A/N: Revamped this chapter 2017-08-18. Hope you're enjoying it. If you feel like leaving a review, I'd love to hear what you think.

What Jenna had always believed to be her curse, her illness, had turned out to be much more. After being attacked in an alleyway, she found herself with the Winchesters, who explained to her that the demons she had been seeing her entire life were real. Sam and Dean opened her eyes to a world she'd spent twenty eight years trying to block out. Now, together, they were trying to stay one step ahead of the demons that were hunting her and figure out what her sight really meant.

The motel room where they were staying had been secured as best as they could. The windows and door were salted. The whole room had been warded. And inside, Sam and Dean had an arsenal, ready to kill anything that got through. But all was quiet and uneventful as the evening rolled on.

"I'm going to head over to the reception office and see about that cot before it gets too late" Jenna told the two brothers. "I saw a gas station half a block away. I was thinking I might grab some water and snacks while I'm out. Did you want anything?" The water in the hotel, she had discovered when she tried to take a much needed soak in the tub, was brown from rust and sediment. There was no way any of them were going to be drinking anything that came from those taps.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I'll go." Dean told her, as he looked up from the laptop he had resting on his knees as he sat in bed trying to find any information he could on what the woman might be. As long as they laid low, paid cash, and didn't do anything to attract unwanted attention to themselves, the demons ought not to be able to track them to the motel. Still, letting that woman, who had just be thrust into all this madness and had no experience as a hunter, walk out that door. It didn't sit well with him.

"I'll be quick," Jenna assured him. "If I see anything at all out of sorts I'll come right back. I can see the demons, remember."

Dean closed his laptop and shook his head, casting her an uncompromising look. "Not happening."

Jenna leaned her shoulder against the motel room wall and sighed. "Look, I get that you're worried. But right now, I could really, really use the space to clear my head a bit," she admitted. "This is all so much to take in. Someone has to go, and the fresh air would do me good."

"She's got a point," Sam smiled sympathetically.

Dean got his hackles up. "You can't seriously be thinking about letting her go?" he demanded harshly.

"Why not, Dean? She's right. Someone has to go. The demons don't know where we are."

Jenna stood there and listened for a moment as Sam and Dean argued. Their concern was appreciated, really it was. The thing was though, it wasn't up to them. It was up to her. "Guys!" Jenna cut across the two of them. "I don't need your permission."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it. What could he really say. Jenna wasn't their prisoner, and she was right. She was a grown woman who could make her own choices.

"Okay then," Jenna said, pushing herself off the wall and standing up straight. "I'm glad that is settled."

"If you're gone more than fifteen minutes we're coming looking," Dean told her.

"Not because you have to," Sam added softly, "But because we want to make sure you're okay and that the demons didn't somehow track us here."

Jenna was already walking towards the door. She threw a glance over her shoulder. "Yes mom," she said teasingly.

Sam chuckled. Maybe there some fire inside her after all to match that red hair of hers. Dean on the other hand, didn't think it was funny at all and simply glared, unimpressed. Her going out there on her own, when only hours earlier she had been running with three demons hot on her tail, it felt wrong. It felt irresponsible. If anything happened... the thought grated on him, because somehow he knew it would be his fault for letting her go.

It had been a long time since Castiel had walked through the white corridors of Heaven. It was strange to be back Once this place had been his home. Once upon a time these halls had felt familiar and inviting. Now though, he felt like an outsider. He felt unwelcome. Not that he blamed the rest of the angels. The things he had done, they were practically unforgivable. Time after time he had chosen the Winchesters and humanity over his own kin, over his mission. He had slaughtered his own brothers and sisters as he tried to become the new God. No, he didn't blame them at all.

That said, he had no idea why he was here. He had been called upon, but the reason for it remained hidden from him as he approached the meeting room at the end of the hall. When he opened those doors he was met by the waiting faces of half a dozen angels. Joshua was not amongst them. In God's absence, and after the disasters of Naomi and Metatron, he had stepped in to lead the angels in a more peaceful direction. The truth was, he was doing a good job of it. A better job than Castiel ever did. The angel on angel violence had all but stopped, and they were able to once again focus on their missions.

Castiel squinted and looked at each angel in turn. The seraph Jehoel was there, plus several lesser angels. Hannah was there too. When Castiel's blue eyes fell on her, his posture stiffened. Once they had gotten close. But the last time he had seen her, she had been in charge of his interrogation and he had watched her die. Death of course, as he had learned, wasn't always as final as it seemed. As of yet, he did not know why she was back, but she was.

"Why did you call me here?" he asked gruffly.

"We need to talk." It was Hannah that stepped forward and spoke.

Of course, it would be her. "And what exactly do we need to talk about?" Castiel asked curtly.

There was a tension between the two angels that was palpable. Hannah pressed her lips together and raised her chin slightly. It was apparent that she regarded her actions as necessary. She had done only what she had to do, what he had forced her to do. Castiel too, had made his choices and done what he had felt was right at the time. Free will, it was a muddy thing. He would be lying if he pretended that he didn't understand why the other angels clung to the certainty of their missions. It was easier to follow orders than to give them.

Out of the awkward silence one of the other angels, Eremiel, spoke. "It's just that... there are rumors," he explained.

Castiel watched the other angels as they shifted their weight uncomfortably. "What rumours?" he demanded impatiently.

"The demons have located a powerful weapon," Eremiel told him.

Castiel's eyes narrowed, and his facial muscles tightened. It was never good when demons were involved. The black-eyed, twisted souls were bent on nothing but death and destruction. Putting a powerful weapon in their hands was a recipe for disaster. "They plan to use it against Heaven?" Castiel assumed.

"No."

Castiel let out a sigh, and with it some of the tension he was holding dissipated, only to be quickly replaced. If the demons had located a weapon and they weren't planning to use it against Heaven, then there was only one reason why he would have been called here. "They plan to use it against Earth?" he asked, certain that must be the answer.

Eremiel shook his head.

"What then?" Castiel asked, hardly able to contain the annoyance in his voice. It was like pulling teeth. If this weapon was so dangerous, they should just get to the point and tell him why they summoned him to Heaven.

"There is a civil war going on in Hell," Eremiel explained.

"I am aware," Castiel replied. "But I fail to see what concern that is of ours. The angels' priority is with Heaven."

Hannah took a tentative step towards Castiel, trying to close the distance that had come between them. "Because it doesn't matter what or who they plan to use it against," she explained, her eyes settling intensely on his. "They do not understand what it means. If they go through with this, it will be the end. Of all of us. Of everything."

A long silence followed. The rest of the angels stood uncomfortably, gathered in the center of the room. They were all looking at him. "Is it… ?" Castiel finally asked, his voice breaking the still merely nodded, her eyes never leaving his. A deep frown marred his face as he contemplated what she was telling him. "It can't be. It's a myth. A story that has been told over and over since the beginning of creation."

"Castiel, don't be so naïve," Hannah replied, taking another step towards her former friend. "You know as well as any of us about the prophecy that was spoken twenty eight years ago."

Castiel turned away abruptly, and began to pace from one side of the room to the other with his hands folded behind his back, almost oblivious to the other angels' presence. Oblivious to the fact that they were all there, staring at him and waiting for him to say something. To do something.

"This is bad," Castiel thought aloud. "This is very bad." If what Hannah and the others were telling him was true, they were in a lot of trouble. They were facing a threat unlike any other they had ever faced before.

It was Jehoel, a seraph like Castiel, who spoke next. "You're our last, best hope Castiel. Please, help us. If you do, your past sins, they will be forgiven. You will be welcome back in Heaven."

"What do you expect me to do?" Castiel asked. This was beyond the powers of any one angel to stop.

"Lead the army of Heaven," Jehoel told him.

"I can't," Castiel protested.

"Of course you can," Jehoel assured him. "You're a soldier, Castiel."

That had been true once. As he looked at the faces of the angels staring back at him and saw the desperation in their eyes, he wondered if maybe it could be true again. Perhaps yes, he could lead Heaven's army, because if he didn't then who would. And one thing was certain, someone needed to or they were all doomed.

The gas station down the road from the Carsten Motel where Jenna and the Winchesters were staying was relatively quiet. Anxiously, Jenna stole glances at the cashier and the couple of customers that were there grabbing smokes or whatever it was they were grabbing. Half of her expected to see black eyes staring back at her. After the day that she had had, her regular paranoia was amplified off the charts. But she didn't. They were just human, like her.

Quickly she grabbed three bottles of water from the cooler, a couple bags of chips, and a handful of other snacks. She rushed to the cashier counter and deposited the items beside the till. With her hands free she dug around in her pocket and pulled out some crumpled notes.

"That'll be twelve seventy two," the clerk, with his short, curly blond hair rattled off uninterestedly. He was noisily chewing gum as he spoke.

Jenna counted the money she had, but it wasn't enough. It had been a dreary, rainy morning, and pan-handling had been slow. Not that it was exactly reliable to begin with, but usually she managed enough to get by or at least to put some food in her belly. Then again, most days she wasn't chased off by demons and sent on the run with a pair of monster-hunting brothers. Regardless, the heat of embarrassment and shame crept up onto her freckled cheeks. Having spent the majority of her adult life homeless, she ought to have been used to it by now, but she wasn't. Not really.

"I'll just take the water and the chips," Jenna mumbled. She had lowered her head, unable to look him in the eye. No, shame, and guilt, and regret still had a habit of swallowing her whole.

"Whatever you say," the clerk replied, still chewing his gum as he gave her the new total. Jenna hurriedly handed over the money, turned and high-tailed it for the door. The sooner she could get back to the motel, the better.

The Carsten came into view and Jenna remembered that she needed to stop at the front desk and ask about a cot. She just hoped that Tim, the least motivated night clerk on the planet, would be bothered enough to put down his phone for a moment to see if they had one available. It always astounded her how much people complained about their jobs, or slacked off, or did everything in their power to avoid working. That was the thing about being homeless, everyone always assumed that she was just a lazy addict, but nothing could be further from the truth. Jenna would have loved nothing more than to have a job and actually be a contributing member of society. On the occasions when she had actually managed to snag one and hang onto it for more than a day she had worked her butt off and she had been so happy and so thankful to have a job to go to. It was just hard to do when you looked at your coworkers and saw demons and monsters.

About twenty yards from the office, Jenna looked up, expecting to see Tim texting on his phone. Instead she was staring through blood spattered windows at a grisly scene. Tim was dead, no doubt thanks to the two demons that had slit his throat and were currently draining his blood into a basin. Jenna let out a strangled cry and brought her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound, dropping the bag she was carrying. For a moment she couldn't think. She just stood frozen in place watching the scene unfold with abject horror. That was four. Four people, she had watched die since she woke up this morning.

Oh God. Sam and Dean. She had to warn them. They had to go. Now. They had to run. Somehow she willed her limbs to move, and heart pounding she turned and raced back towards the motel room. As she glanced expectantly behind her she saw no one. The demons, they hadn't seen her yet. If she could just…

"Uhmph." Jenna stumbled backwards landing on her butt on the hard asphalt. When she looked up she saw a handsome man impeccably dressed in a black suit. Despite his medium stature, he carried himself in a way that was so self-assured and confident lending a command to his presence.

"Are you alright?" The man asked in a sexy British accent.

Jenna opened her mouth to speak, "I... I,"she stammered, but she couldn't get the words out. There was something off about him. When she looked at him, he looked human, but it was almost as if she caught just a glimpse of something else. Had there been the faintest hint of red behind those brown eyes, she wasn't sure. He certainly wasn't one of the black-eyed demons. Speaking of which, Jenna glanced behind her expecting the two demons who had killed Tim to be closing in. The parking lot was empty. They must still have been in the office.

"You what, love?" The man asked calmly.

Returning her attention to the well-dressed man, Jenna began to seriously doubt if she had seen anything at all. Perhaps it had just been her panic-stricken imagination, because when she looked at his face all she saw were soft, brown eyes gazing back at her. "I.. I have to go," she sputtered as the man reached down to help her to her feet. God, his hand was so warm. "You need to run, it's not safe, there's…" Jenna trailed off, realizing how crazy she must sound.

"Not safe?" The man in the suit repeated patiently.

"I have no time to explain," Jenna told him as she grabbed his hand in hers. "There are demons. Please you have to run," she explained as she tugged on his hand for him to follow, but he didn't budge, and she wasn't strong enough to drag him. He doesn't believe me. Of course he doesn't believe me. Who would? He probably thinks I'm crazy... Jenna thought frantically. "Please," Jenna begged, her voice cracking as the panic started to take over. "They will kill you."

"Oh, I doubt that," the man replied.

What. Jenna stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly agape. The calmness with which he was taking all of this in was unsettling. Shouldn't he be running, either from the demons she claimed were going to kill him, or from her crazy ass...

"Crowley!" Dean's angry voice cut across the parking lot. Jenna turned her head and saw him and Sam rushing toward her from the motel room. "Crowley, you let her go, or I swear I'll…"

"You'll what?" the man snarled back mockingly. Crowley, his name was Crowley.

Then it hit Jenna, like a freight train to the chest. What she thought she had seen, the red that lurked behind those eyes, it had been real. She hadn't imagined it. "Shit," she cursed. Just as Jenna went to drop his hand and run, Crowley returned her grip with crushing force. "Ouch!" Jenna yelped more out of shock than pain.

Crowley pulled Jenna into him and wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her body pressed tight against his like a shield between him and the Winchesters. If she had thought his hand was warm, the heat radiating off his body was incredible. It was like there was a furnace burning inside of him. Being so close she could smell him: clean, expensive cologne, and just the faintest hint of sulfur.

"Let me go," Jenna pleaded as she made a futile attempt to wriggle free from Crowley's solid hold. "Please." Inside her chest her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear the blood rushing through her ears like a raging river. It was a deafening noise that only she could hear.

"Sorry, love," Crowley crooned. A wicked smile spread across his face as he dipped Jenna backwards gracefully so that she could look up into his eyes. "About those demons…" He let his words trail off and his eyes glowed a solid red. There was no need to finish the sentence. A picture was worth a thousand words. There was no mistaking what she saw this time. Maybe he wasn't a black-eyed demon, but he was a demon no less.

Crowley brought Jenna back to her feet, letting the realization of what he was truly set in. Underneath her, her knees trembled as if all the strength had been sucked out of them. If it wasn't for the demon's arm around her waist, she would have collapsed to the hard asphalt of the parking lot.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Jenna stammered.

"No apologies necessary," Dean told her. The hunter had his eyes fixed squarely on the demon that was holding her.

She was supposed to have been able to see the demons. She was supposed to have been able to avoid this sort of situation. Not even half an hour ago she had been assuring the oldest Winchester that it would be fine. Now she was here, held hostage by the red-eyed Crowley with two more demons not far behind. "There's more, in the office. Two demons. They killed the receptionist. I ran. I tried to get to you and Sam. I tried to warn you."

"It's okay, this isn't your fault," Sam assured her as he stepped up next to his older brother. His face twitched as he stared loathingly at Crowley. There was a history between them, that much was clearly evident. Jenna couldn't help but wonder what it was. A question for another day, if she ever got out of this.

Dean looked past Jenna and Crowley and his posture stiffened. "Looks like we've got trouble," he remarked. The two demons, they weren't in the office anymore.

"Are they yours?" Sam asked Crowley angrily.

"No, Moose, they're not mine." Crowley replied coolly. "I keep my word."

"Then how did you find us? what are you doing here?" Sam growled.

"Come on now boys, your modus operandi isn't exactly difficult to discern. It was obvious that you would be in some cheap motel. All I had to do was wait for my enemy's goons to determine which one. They find you. They call home. I intercept said call. A thank you should be in order. If it weren't for me, you'd have a lot more than two demons on your hands."

"Your enemy?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight anxiously. The two demons, they were getting closer.

Crowley rolled his eyes at Sam's discomfort. He raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around Jenna's waist and the two demons stopped in their tracks, forced to their knees by his telekinetic powers. "Me and the Hardy Boys here are having a little chat. Afraid you're just going to have to wait in line," he told them, before returning his attention back to Sam. "Yes, my enemy. King of Hell, remember," he said, gesturing to himself. "Some traitorous little whore always wants my throne. Right now that traitorous little whore happens to be Malphas, and the bastard is leading a rival faction of demons against me. I've got a bit of a civil war on my hands down in Hell."

Dean rolled his eyes at the demon. "Cry me a freakin' river. So you've got trouble in paradise. Don't care."

Sam held up a hand for his brother to be quiet. "Hold on, Dean. Crowley, did you say Malphas? As in the Prince of Hell, second in command to Lucifer. That Malphas?"

Dean arched an eyebrow. That was interesting, good catch Sam.

"No, the other Malphas," Crowley sneered. "Of course that Malphas you dim-witted twat."

Sam's head was spinning. Here was this woman, who could see... things. They weren't sure exactly the extent of her sight. Then there was Crowley and Malphas duking it out for Hell. "What does she have to do with any of this?" Sam asked, trying to put all the pieces together. Instead of getting any answers, he was just ending up with more questions.

"She is of great interest to my enemy," Crowley replied cryptically.

Dean groaned. "So you figured you'd just come and take her for yourself?"

"Yes," Crowley replied shrugging his shoulders, a cocky smile spreading across his face.

"How about not," Dean growled as he pulled out his demon blade and took a step towards Crowley.

"Come on Dean, you and I both know you aren't going to kill me," Crowley stated calmly. The demon was completely unphased, if not mildly amused, by the hunter's advance.

"You don't want Malphas to have her, now I get that," Dean told him. "But there is not a snowball's chance I'm letting you walk away with her."

"Oh Dean, you're adorable," Crowley teased. "But, I don't need you to let me do anything."

Sam shifted his weight nervously. They had had plenty of run ins with the King of Hell, former King of the Crossroads, over the years. They'd also worked along side him more times than he cared to admit. Their relationship was, well it was murky. It wasn't really clear. That said, he wouldn't put it past the demon to gut them given the opportunity and the proper motivation.

"Why don't you just leave her with us," Sam offered, keen to avoid a violent run in with Crowley if possible. He was, after all, still a business man. Perhaps he could be reasoned with. "We'll keep her away from Malphas and his demons, and you can go back to securing your rule over Hell."

Crowley snickered at the offer. "Right, because you and Squirrel have been doing a bang up job so far, haven't you?" he shot back. "What the bloody hell was she even doing out here on her own? I expected more from you boys." He sighed and dropped his hand, releasing the two demons he had been holding off. "Well, it's been lovely, but I've got a kingdom run. Toodles boys," he said with a wave. Sam opened his mouth to protest, but the King of Hell and the woman were gone.