a.n:

so I've had this written for ages but never posted. It largely pertains to Amelia and Crowley, a "what if" situation. Castiel will appear, in some shape or form ;)

She should never have pulled over. If she had sped up, put those flashing lights behind her then things would have been so different. But Amelia Novak had just been through hell in twenty four hours and after the initial shock of hearing the wail of sirens she had felt a flood of relief. It was ridiculous but seeing that policeman - normal, law enforcing, protector - made her feel safe.

The policeman walked over and took one long look at the both of them. Amelia remained seated but jittery as a bug, Claire mute and unresponsive. Amelia stretched her mouth into a smile that wanted to be innocent but felt anything but.

"Is there a problem?"

"You were speeding," he said simply. The police man took a look at Claire in the back seat and then back at Amelia. "Can I see your license please?"

"My license? Oh, I - uh -"

"Do you have it, ma'am?" His voice was soft, calm. Amelia decided to pepper the lie with truth.

"I think I left it at home. Look, me and my daughter have been through an ordeal tonight and I just want to be on my way."

"Where do you live?"

Amelia hesitated, address on her lips. The house. Roger is dead, he's bleeding out in the living room. Claire watched him get his throat slit. Amelia said nothing. Her legs felt weak. He didn't seem to find her silence surprising. He asked her to wait there for a moment. Amelia watched him flipping open a notebook and move around the back of the car. Go, she thought, leave him in the dust. Her body remained unresponsive.

After a minute the policeman came back and asked Amelia to rouse her daughter and get into the back of the police car.

"Why?" She thought about bolting again, calling for help. Instead she got out of the car, shivering in the cold when he asked her again to vacate the vehicle.

"You're driving a stolen car, it was reported two hours ago."

Excuses flashed through her mind, each one leading back to her house and the carnage inside. She was too tired to explain so she kept silent. She cajoled Claire out and they both mutely got into the car. Amelia drew Claire close to her side and watched the nighttime town flick by.

They asked her to empty out her pockets and then a female police woman shepherded her daughter away.

"It's ok. I'm just going to take Claire to the canteen. I think you're hungry, aren't you hun?" This was directed at Claire who didn't respond. Instead she stared at her mother for assurance. Amelia looked at the police around her and knew that she had no choice. She smiled in reassurance and hugged her daughter.

"Go with this lady Claire. I'll see you as soon as I can, ok?" Claire didn't answer but for a nod. Amelia watched her disappear through a set of doors, worrying. She hadn't spoke a word in hours.

"Miss Novak? If you'll follow me..." Another police officer lead her down a corridor and into a small room. A shiny table with two chairs were the only thing in there. No two way mirror like she had been expecting. She sat and spotted a security camera on the wall, small black eye fixed on her. The table was drilled to the floor.

"Want a drink? Coffee?"

Amelia nodded, unable to speak. The officer left, closing the door behind him. Finally alone she let out a deeply inhaled breath and felt it shake through her. She could feel tears building in her eyes and knew that it was important that she didn't cry.

I'm here on suspicion of stealing a car, that's all. The thought doesn't hold much comfort. The coffee is brought in by a man who took the seat opposite her. He stifled a yawn, apologising. It was nearly two in the morning.

"Should have got myself one of those." He smiled good natured and laced his fingers together, placing them on the table. Amelia blew on the coffee, never taking her eyes off him. "I'm Detective Daniels."

"Detective?"

"That a problem?"

"No, of course not." She tried to smile again but thought better of it. She took a scolding sip. She couldn't tell if it was good or bad, she couldn't taste anything.

"At 22:45 hours yesterday a red Mustang was reported missing. The car that you were stopped in. The officer that escorted you to the police station said that you were in an agitated state, your daughter almost completely unresponsive." Detective Daniels leaned over the table, eyes gentle. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

He thinks I'm innocent. He thinks I stole the car but he doesn't know about what happened. What do I say?

"Is Claire ok?"

"She's safe. Last I saw she was asleep...Miss Novak -"

"It's Mrs," she brushed her thumb over her wedding ring. Daniels looked back up at her, smiling.

"Right. When you were pulled over you were reported as saying that you and your daughter had been through an ordeal. What ordeal was that?"

Amelia opened her mouth but no words came forth.

These are the police! I haven't done anything wrong so why can't I tell him? Because it's gonna look like I had a hand in killing my neighbour...but he wasn't my neighbour, he was a demon. How can I tell him what really happened without sounding crazy?

As these thoughts rushed through her head, burning to be spoken, the door was suddenly opened. The police officer took a short glimpse at her and then motioned for the detective to step outside.

"One moment, Mrs Novak."

But one moment turned into several and before long over an hour had passed before the door to her room was opened again. Every minute before that was a torment that built and built until she was pacing the room like a trapped animal, hyper sensitive and frayed.

"What's going on?"

"Please sit down Amelia." She remained standing, taking in the look on his face. He knew. It was all over.

"He turned up on my door step, just like that. I had him declared dead but I knew, deep down, that he was out there somewhere. I never took this off." She showed him her wedding ring with a small smile.

"A neighbour said that prior to his disappearance your husband had been acting...peculiar."

Amelia's smile curdled. "He was always the most devout out of the two of us. I believed - believe I mean but then suddenly it just reached disturbing levels. He - he would walk into traffic and I would beg him to stop but he wouldn't..."

"He thought that God was speaking to him?"

"No, he thought that an angel was. Castiel."

"Who?"

Amelia smiled weakly. "Exactly. I thought that maybe he was sick. I convinced him to go to the doctor who suggested a head scan, to go through these different tests. He said that it was waste of time but he did it to put my doubts at rest." Amelia shook her head at the memory. He had been so sure, to the point of arrogance.

"So what was the answer?"

Amelia shrugged. "The doctors said he was healthy but suffering from delusions. They put him on medication. He was so angry...I think he was just frustrated that no one believed him. I can see that now..."

"Why?"

"I saw things that defeat any rational explanation but I just couldn't accept what I was seeing." Did I say too much? The detective didn't seem confused, maybe he was a religious man.

"You're saying you believe him?"

"I believe that Jesus was crucified and resurrected. Why not angels?"

Daniels smiled, scratching his chin. "This is all very fascinating but you still haven't told me what happened when your husband returned home."

"I know. I want to tell you, I want you to understand...but you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I hardly believe what happened myself and I saw it."

"I just want to know what happened to Roger. Tell me about him."

Amelia felt her eyes prickle. "Roger? He's been my neighbour for years. He was, I mean. I can't believe he's dead..." tears ran down her cheeks and she let them fall. It feels like she's been crying on and off all day. She breathed in deep and continued. "Roger was Jimmy's best friend and when Jimmy went missing it hit him hard. He was there for me, him and Lisa...I should have known something wasn't right when Roger came to the door. He acted like Jimmy had been gone for only a week or something."

"Then what happened?"

Amelia was dreading this. Her desire to tell him everything, to share the truth was powerful but the rational part of her was shaking it's head. They'll think you're crazy, or worse that you did it...

"I'd like to call my dad. I just need to see him, please?"

It was late next morning when she was finally allowed to see her father. He hugged her for a long time, like she was just a girl again.

"What's going on Amy? They said that Roger is dead?" He took a seat across from her, thankfully in a room she was sure she couldn't be recorded or overheard.

Amelia nodded. Her face was white, tired and under other stressful circumstances she could count on keeping her composure. This was different. Now her mouth jitters into fragile smiles that break apart. "He had his throat slit. I saw it happen dad, it was in my house. Claire saw. Where is she?"

"She's with your mother. You know she hasn't spoken to either of us? She saw him die?" He sucked in a hissing breath through his teeth as she nodded, shaking his head. "What happened Amelia?"

This was her dad. Unlike her waspish mother he had always been the one she had run to, the one who would listen. Who wouldn't judge. "It sounds crazy. Really crazy."

"I'm listening honey."

"Jimmy came home." Ignoring his surprised face she retailed what had happened when he appeared at her door. She faltered when she came to the part when Roger knocked on the door. She inhaled and fixed him with wide, honest eyes. "This is a the crazy part dad. Roger's eyes went black."

"I'm sorry?"

"His eyes turned completely black and Jimmy hit him. I didn't see it happen then but Jimmy said that Roger was a demon." She waited for her dad to comment but he didn't, just stared at her with a frozen face. But he was still listening. "Jimmy forced me and Claire into the pantry cupboard and started sprinkling salt around. At this point I thought he had totally lost it, that he was dangerous and I told Claire to run. We struggled."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, not like that. He was trying to stop me from going outside."

"Because of the demon?"

"Yes. I know this sounds nuts but it's the truth. I got out and that thing had a knife to Claire. I - " Amelia stopped, hand moving to her mouth. She was shaking. "Sorry. It was fucking - terrible."

He reached for her hand, took it. "It's all right, just take your time."

She breathed in deep and continued, looking at her hands clasped tight in front of her. She told him about the timely arrival of the Winchesters and their escape. She told him about her goodbyes with Jimmy. Hesitating, her voice above a whisper she confessed to being possessed herself. She told him about the warehouse, Claire tied to a chair. Her father sat and listened with a shell shocked face but it steadily grew thunderous. It was here she started to cry, covering her face with her hands.

"I didn't say goodbye to him dad, it wasn't me. I never got to say goodbye," she sniffed, wiping the back of her hand over her face. "I need to know if you believe me. Do you?"

He was silent for a long time, eyes narrowed in consideration. "I believe that you wouldn't lie, not when it's this serious. Do I believe in demons? Honestly I didn't before. I guess I didn't want to believe...but if you tell me that's what happened then I believe you."

Amelia nodded and smiled weakly. "What about angels?"

"Angels?" He smiled, sat back. "Sure, I believe in them."

"Good, because then you'll believe me when I tell you they're assholes."

Her father's eyebrows disappeared into his white hair. "I remember, before Jimmy went missing, he was obsessed with angels."

"One in particular. At the time I just couldn't believe it, even when miracles were happening in front of my eyes...he's a vessel dad, an angelic vessel." She had explained as much as she knew, which wasn't much.

"So for that entire year he was really this Castiel fella?"

"Yes." Amelia watched her father pace up and down. It was something he did when he was trying to figure out a problem. "That's what he is now. He isn't Jimmy any more."

"But he's alive?"

"I think so. I think he needed Jimmy badly, so it wouldn't make sense if he went to all that trouble only for Jimmy to die." She kept the information that the angel resorted to blackmail to keep Jimmy as his vessel. She felt bad enough without being angry. She sat back, tired but lighter for having shared the truth. But explaining what happened to her dad wasn't going to get her out of here. "What am I going to tell them dad?"

"The truth," He said straight away, no hesitation.

"They'll think I've made it up. No one is going to believe me."

Her dad crouched down next to her. "You tell them it was was one of those Winchester's that killed Roger. You didn't kill anyone."

I shot Jimmy... She pushed that thought away harshly. "But I left the scene of the crime with those boys. I left in a stolen car. Whatever way I spin it it doesn't look good."

"Do you want to tell them the truth?"

"Yes. It will probably lead me into a cell but I can't think what else to do." She watched the sky shinning brightly through a tiny window until her vision became blurry smears of light.

You can lie.

The voice was soft, persuasive. It drew her up from sleep, blinking in confusion at the unfamiliar surroundings. Her cell. It had been over twenty-four hours and it had already become hers. She sighed, sat up and immediately froze.

There was a man in the corner.

Castiel?

"'Fraid not. Glad you're awake though, bit hard to converse with a dreaming person."

Amelia scrabbled up and jumped to the floor, eyes wide. A middle aged man was leaning against the wall, watching her cheerfully.

"Who are you?"

"Surprised you don't remember me. Go on, have a good look, it'll come to you." He came closer and Amelia backed away, unable to take her eyes off him. She could feel the hairs on her body standing to attention and her heart beating like a drum. He was a small unassuming man, only his English accent was out of place. As she stared that voice dragged up memories, ones that didn't belong to her.

He gave the order to kill the vessels. Amelia spun around and banged on the door, shouting to be let out.

"Come on, no need for that. I'm just here for a chat. Anyway, they can't hear you."

"You're lying." She was surprised at the steadiness of her voice, the spite running through it. Like she knew him, knew he couldn't be trusted. He tutted, moved to sit on the visitor's chair.

"You can shout until you're blue in the face my love. No one is coming. Now to business." He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. Amelia flattened herself against the door, silent, nervous. He looked around the small room. "You've got yourself into a bit of a pickle, haven't you?"

"What do you want?"

"To help you." A ragged laugh barked out of Amelia's mouth. He looked affronted and then just as quickly guilty. "All right I'm here to offer you a deal."

"No, the answer is no."

"You haven't even heard what I'm going to say yet."

"I don't need to," she looked at the ceiling above her and prayed, silently chanting Castiel's name. Crowley - his name is Crowley! - sighed.

"Who do you think sent me?" Amelia stilled, breath in her throat. She gazed at him, looking for the lie in his eyes. He regarded her friendly, palms outwards.

"That's ridiculous."

"I know but it's the truth. Well, just about."

"Just about?"

Crowley made a so-so gesture with his hand. "He has a lot on his plate and I offered to lighten the load for him. So strictly speaking he doesn't know I'm here...now."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because we're partners. He does me a solid, I do the same."

"You work together? You expect me to believe that? Bullshit." She looked around for something to defend herself with but there was nothing. She remained where she was.

"We live in mad times love and you've just gotta move with them. Look I'm not expecting you to believe me, I just came here to talk."

"How did you get in here?"

"Unlike churches prisons are fair game to those above and below. As I was saying before: why don't you lie Amelia?"

"They'll find out, they'll arrest me." Why am I telling him this? It was like he pulled the words out of her.

"You don't know that. I know you're a bit of a bible-basher, no offense, and don't want to lie but in this case it would only be twisting the truth a little. Your long lost husband comes home. Maybe he thinks you've been having an affair with him next door and beats the piss out of him, either way he's screaming stuff about demons. Then two guys he's been hanging out with - very likely a bad influence - kills your neighbour, finishing the job. Then they kidnap you and your daughter. You manage to get away in a stolen car and here you find yourself. Now what version is going to go over better?"

She couldn't deny that he was talking sense but she couldn't agree with him. "I can't tell your lies, I won't."

"Then you're an idiot. You think he's going to save you? You can pray and pray all you like but he'll just leave you, forget you like he did before. Sometimes you've got to play dirty to survive. Doesn't matter if you're human, an angel or a demon; we're all fighting to exist."

And with that said he was gone.

When it came to the day of her confession she found the words coming out of her mouth easy. They had a flow to them but not too smooth. The things she had to divulge were horrific, that was the truth and it stung. The lies came easy because they were easily swallowed. The police were expecting a rational explanation and that was what they got. She could even believe them herself. She was good at blinding herself from the truth, especially absurd ones.

"I got into the car and drove away."

"I see. You drove away from this warehouse. We've been to that warehouse, couldn't find anyone there. Except blood."

"Blood?"

The detective nodded. He believed her, she was sure of it. But why did he have that look in his eye? "Yeah, blood. Can you please look at this and identify it?" He brought out something wrapped in clear plastic and placed it on the table. Amelia leaned over to look.

"It's my jacket."

"The one you were wearing that night?" When she nodded he took the coat and shoved it aside."We've found traces of blood on the coat Mrs Novak. Your husband's."

"Jimmy's? Well, it must have got there at some point. We - we did struggle."

He nodded and took out a series of photographs and laid down them before her. They were aerial shots of the warehouse floor. "The blood splatter analyst found large patches of blood on the floor of the warehouse, most belonging to your husband. He also found a trail indicating that he crawled away before collapsing here." He pointed to a pillar, where the blood was a dark blot on the concrete. "The blood ends here."

Amelia looked back up at him, licking her lips. "There's a lot."

"Yes there is. You know what the blood splatter guy also said? He said that all this was signs of blood lose resulting from a bullet wound. He says your husband was very likely shot in the chest, with this gun." He brought out a pistol also wrapped in plastic. Amelia sat back, feeling sick.

"Please -"

"Your fingerprints are on the gun, there's gunpowder residue all over your coat. If we dust your hands we'll probably find more." Daniel's leaned close, voice low. "Did you shot your husband?"

"No, no." Amelia shook her head slowly from side to side, her eyes prickling hot. "It wasn't me."

"There's evidence here that could put you away for a long time Amelia, don't dig yourself deeper. Look, it sounds like all this was in self defense. You said that you were kidnapped, you had to get away. You got hold of a gun, you and your husband struggled and then -"

"No! I didn't pull the trigger! I would never do that."

"Your finger prints -"

"It wasn't me!" She was crying now, stressed to breaking point but defiant.

"Then who was it?"

"I can't tell you, I want to, I really do but god...Do - do you believe in demons?" The words were whispered, barely audible but it felt so cleansing to utter. Finally the truth. The detective sat back, blinking and after a few seconds of silence asked her to explain.

The police searched the surrounding area for Jimmy's body, plunging Amelia into a strong sense of déjà vu. She had to go through the same thing when Jimmy disappeared, though at that time she hadn't been arrested on suspicion of manslaughter. They searched all the local hospitals but she knew it was fruitless, as did the search for the Winchesters. She even told them so but she knew her word wouldn't hold much weight now.

A month past, two and Amelia found herself in a quiet, isolated clinic. It was an old mansion built on top of a slopping hill, fields stretching out on all sides. In the early morning mist would hover over the grass and roses and sometimes she would experience moments of peace. Until she saw the bars over the windows and the fence peeking through the trees in the distance. She wasn't a serious threat so prison wasn't in order. She was just here until she was deemed safe to enter society again.

She had gone through an extensive psychiatric analysis, the findings of which point to a mind convinced of it's own sanity and for all intense and purposes she was. Except for the angels and demons. Every night she prayed to God. Never to Castiel. It had become clear that line was no longer connected. While heaven was silent hell was eager to listen to her. Almost every night he would visit her, asking her one thing.

"If you wanna get out all you've got to do is agree."

Agree to possession. Crowley wasn't here to help her or acting from some sense of loyalty to Castiel. He was just here to fuck with her.

"Why?"

"You're talking about demons and no one believes you because there's no proof. I'm the proof. You agree, they'll see that we exist and they'll have to let you out. Oh, don't look like that," he moved to where she was sat on the bed, "I won't touch you unless you give the go ahead."

"You don't need an invitation, you can posses anyone."

"Exactly. I've taken a shine to you Ames and I know you don't believe me but I feel a little guilty for how all this turned out. You know things are going down the drain when a demon is more concerned for you then a bloody angel. An angel, I might add, that was supposed to look out for you and yours." He winced and shrugged, a what-you-gonna-do gesture.

"I don't need him, I don't need you."

"Oh but you do need him. It could take him what, an hour to pop down here? Show them that your hubby isn't actually dead. He's the one keeping you in here."

Amelia fixed him with a withering gaze. "I don't need to be reminded what a - a -"

"Arsehole? Wanker? Sanctimonious little tosser with a stick so far up his jacksie it's a miracle he can walk?" Crowley lifted his brows in surprise. "Sound almost as bitter as you feel." He started at her angry face, smiling. "No, we shouldn't be so hard on him, he's got an entire world on his shoulders. It's understandable why he doesn't have time for the likes of you and me. I can see you're not swayed, I'll leave it for another night. Goodnight my dear." He winked and disappeared.

Amelia let out a breath and slumped back into her pillows.

"It's not fair. I just want you to come home."

"I know, I wish I could."

Amelia walked with Claire through the garden, a few people milling around. Her daughter had regained her voice and with it a determination that was well beyond her years. Being possessed by an angel had done something to her.

"If you can't come home then I'll live here with you," Claire stared at her mother with hope and Amelia felt something within her crack. She took Claire's hand and pulled her into a hug.

"You don't belong in here sweetheart."

"Neither do you. I know the truth, I know you're not like these people." She pulled Amelia to sit on a bench and looked at the roses surrounding them. "Though I guess its kinda pretty here."

"Yeah it is. How have you been? You seem older." It had been months since Amelia had been placed at the clinic and every time Claire visited the more self possessed she seemed.

Claire nodded, the sun in her eyes and cocked her head as she spoke. "It's like you believe there's this door that exists but you've never seen it and you just have faith in what's behind it. That door was opened for me and I saw what was beyond. Just for a moment but I saw." A smile played over her lips.

Amelia stared at the side of her daughter's face in wonder. "That's...I don't know what to say. Is that why you were so unresponsive before?"

Claire turned to her with a shrug. "I guess so. It's funny; when I see my friends I feel so weird. Like they have no idea and their world is so small, so narrow. I dunno, I'm not sure how to act around them anymore."

Amelia pulled her against her side. "You act like the twelve year old you are. We've both been made aware of things that most people will never experience. That's not their fault and in some cases that's a blessing. You're still a kid Claire, hang on to that."

She nodded with a smile but Amelia felt she was treading on territory she couldn't fully grasp. Claire was going through some sort of enlightenment and as Amelia stared at her she felt such a powerful sense of assurance it boarded on prophecy. Her daughter would do great things, she was certain.

"Wee Claire is right you know, you don't belong here with the rest of these crazies."

"Can you not call them that?"

She was reading a book in the recreational room. He had appeared to her when she was in public before but it became obvious that other people couldn't see him. She had begun to take a book with her wherever she went so she could talk behind it but it seemed pointless when other patients also seemed to talk to themselves.

"Reality deniers, those averse to sanity and all that boring stuff. That better?" He sat on the arm of her chair, hands in his pockets and Amelia slid away as much as possible. It was pointless trying to walk away from him, his pursuit was relentless. "What you reading?"

"Like you care."

"No need to be rude. You'll find that most demons when they get topside will have an impressive amount of stolen library books. There's only one book in hell you see."

"The Bible?"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? It's Pilgrim's Progress." He pulled a face, as if distressed by the very name. With a nasty shock Amelia almost found herself nodding in agreement. She got hastily to her feet and Crowley followed her out of the room looking pleased with himself.

"I wish you'd leave me alone. I've told you no a thousand times already. It's not going to change." She walked towards the cafeteria, Crowley at her side. He shrugged.

"I'm an optimist."

"If I did agree what then? You'll let me go?" She snorted and turned to him, not caring that people could see her talking to thin air. "You'll use me to do something awful, I know it."

He shook his head. "As it happens I've grown quite attached to this body so no, I won't keep you forever if that's what you're worried about."

"Well, what about the body you're using? He was a man who could have had a family, friends but now he's reduced to this?"

Crowley looked affronted. "This guy? He was a wall street shark, drug addict and paedophile. So should I let him go on his merry way?" Amelia blinked, opened her mouth to speak but found she couldn't. Crowley nodded at her in understanding. "Nothing is black and white."

"Be that as it may I'm not going to be possessed again. I'll die before that happens."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic! I'm not asking you to go to hell; just agree for ten minutes and you're free of this place. Ten minutes."

Amelia slumped against a wall and stared at him intently. "You keep whistling the same tune but you could make yourself visible, show them what you are."

He wobbled his head in debate, humming. "True, I could but that would just prove that this guy is possessed." He pointed at himself and then at her. "It won't change the fact that you still appear to be human. You're not the first person incarcerated for doing bad things, shouting that a demon made them do it."

"But some of those people were telling the truth."

He shrugged. "Most people don't want to see what's right in front of them. Muggles, as it were. Can't blame them, can you?"

Amelia gazed at him for a long time as he fell silent, considering him with a curious expression. "I remember every second of being possessed. I remember hitting my daughter and shooting my husband but you know the thing that I can't get out of my head is the utter torment that it felt? I had to endure that for an hour while that thing has lived with that pain for hundreds of years. I can't do that again."

He gazed at her for a long time and his expression was unreadable. Finally he lifted his brows and shrugged. "You don't need to tell me. You know I was Scottish when I lived? I died, went to hell and became so warped and twisted I became every Scotsman's worst nightmare: an Englishman."

Amelia smiled before she could stop herself and looked away. When she looked back he was gone.

a.n:

There's another part but it's not quite finished. I need to tweak the end...