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It's been two days since your run-in with the demons. Despite hearing of similar happenings in the nearby towns, you decided to keep to yourself. The allegations made by the blue-eyed angel more than unnerved you. Although you're quite certain of being human, you still can't shake the feeling of unease. Now that you've got two hunters and apparently angels looking for you, you conclude it's best to keep low and out of the way of any supernatural occurrences.

You're lying in bed with headphones over your ears. The blasting music as an attempt at distraction is nothing more than background noise. You can't help your nagging curiosity. Why is there a sudden explosion of demon activity? And what were the demons who captured you trying to summon?

You had purposely allowed yourself to be taken, faking faint as they brought you to the warehouse. During the ride, you kept hearing the name Lilith and something about having what they needed to break the seal of Agiel.

With a groan, you take off your headphones and turn off the CD player. Nothing is helping and you're growing increasingly restless. You glance out the window of your bachelor apartment and notice the sun has finally set. Fed up with your solitude, you think it's safe enough to venture outside for a little shopping. You quickly grab your keys, phone, and other minor necessities before closing the door behind you.

On your walk to the corner store for a case of beer and possibly a box of strawberries, your mind wanders back to the conversation between the two hunters and the angel. Clearly, they know something about these seals and the person named Lilith. You're almost curious enough to seek them out for answers. Almost.

You give a quick glance around the store. Other than the cashier currently scanning the merchandise, there is an old woman standing by the fridge examining the boxes of eggs. You relax a little. You don't know how angels operate, but you feel there's less chance of you being found if you move after daylight. Maybe they're resting by now. You wonder if angels sleep. Walking out of the store, you decide to take a back alley route as to further avoid mingling among other people. This way, you'd be able to enjoy a bottle without scrutiny. Enlivened by the prospect of public drinking, you quickly lift a beer from the box and pop off the cap. You take a large gulp and exhale in satisfaction. When you look up from your bottle, you abruptly lose your smile.

A few meters down the alleyway stand two men. Behind them, the light of a back entrance throws shadows over their figures. Despite their silhouetted appearance, you recognize them immediately.

"Did you really think you could out run angels?"

You remember his venom filled voice all too well. The angel, Uriel. You gulp nervously.

"Uh... yes?" You take a step back, eyes darting for an escape route. Things don't look good. You're about to open your mouth, but something forces it shut. Your eyes grow wide with alarm.

Uriel has his hand raised. "That should stop you from uttering any more vexing spells."

You look to the other man, remembering him to be more sympathetic. He remains idle, watching you with cool eyes.

Out of options, you turn to run. However, before a single step is taken, Uriel appears in front of you. His hand shoots out, grabbing you roughly by the shoulder.

"You won't be getting away anymore."

The surroundings suddenly shift, and the ground beneath your feet disappears. You feel the onslaught of vertigo, then the immediate pressure of gravity. Touching solid surface again, you stumble sideways. When you get your bearings, you realize you're now in a completely different place. Your head moves back and forth as you glance about the strange room. Just as your eyes find two familiar hunters blocking the entrance to what seems to be the kitchen, you're quickly yanked back. A hand presses down on your shoulder and you're forced into a chair. You jerk back to glare at the angel manhandling you. He gives you a snide grin in response and snaps his fingers. The next thing you know, your hands and feet are fastened to the arms and legs of the chair with ropes. The bag containing your strawberries and beer has vanished from your hands. You make more noises from your throat, still unable to verbalize your protests.

"Do you have the ingredients ready?" Uriel barks.

The hunter you remember as Dean passes over a metal bowl of mixed herbs and animal bones. He's clearly discontent with the angel's commands.

You grunt and groan behind sealed lips, pleading with your eyes at either of the two hunters to help you. They watch you with discomfort but make no indication of coming to your aide.

Uriel picks up a silver knife from the table and your eyes widen as the blade slowly approaches. Fear shoots through you when you see the callous indifference on his face. You fight against your restraints, trying to jerk as far as away from the weapon as possible. Your efforts are futile.

Uriel presses the edge against your forearm and you wince. The incision is made slowly. A clear red line thickens as blood pools along the cut. Uriel sets the knife back on the table and twists your injured arm to the side. He holds the metal bowl beneath the wound and lets the blood drip in.

At a wave of his hand, the contents inside disappear. Looking down, you notice a circle of archaic runes has appeared around you, and Uriel steps behind the markings. With a flick of his wrist, the runes catch fire, making your jolt. However, the flames soon die down to a glow, illuminating the circle with pulsing embers. The angel snaps his fingers and the hold on your mouth disappears. You take in a few deep breaths at the sudden release. Keeping your glare aimed at the ground, you hold your tongue from further exacerbating your situation.

You search the far reaches of your mind for a solution. Whatever they did, you can't seem to find the spells to break free. It's as though a part of your memory has been blocked. You close your eyes and breathe out your nose. Your insides boil at how easily you were captured and you curse your predicament. What can you do? They're angels. You have no idea how powerful they are, and you're disarmed and out-numbered. There's no choice but to accept the situation.

"All right. You win. So what do you want?" you say through gritted teeth.

Uriel looks down his nose at you. "You are to stay here until further instruction. If you try anything, I will roast you alive where you sit."

You narrow your eyes but otherwise say nothing.

"And you two." He switches his attention to the hunters. "Make sure she doesn't leave your sight if you value keeping all your limbs."

The men glare back, but Uriel ignores them.

"Castiel, you are to uncover as much information as you possibly can from the immortal while I am away seeking revelation. I will expect a full report upon my return."

Having been standing motionless near the window this entire time, the second angel finally moves upon the address. He does, however, remain taciturn, and only returns a grim nod.

Uriel pulls his lips into a tight grin, his eyes shining with a dogmatic pleasure. Without another word, the angel disappears. The sound of fluttering wings echoes the departure.

Everyone in the room visibly relaxes.

Dean raises his hands, clenching them into fists. "God! What would I give to smash that arrogant prick face of his."

You see the blue-eyed seraph frown. "Uriel can be... abrasive. But he is only following orders."

Dean scoffs. "Yeah, whatever. You say it like that excuses the way he's been treating us like worms the whole time."

Now that the tension has died down, you look around the room once more. Homey would be a polite way of describing this dwelling. Your eyes trace across the scratched up wooden floors then the coffee table to your left. You spy four circular imprints on the planks. You assume it's where the table is supposed to be before it was pushed against the couch to make room for your trap. Behind the couch is a bay window and the surrounding walls are covered by tacky wallpaper marked with dust stains and age. As for the rest of the furniture, there are various bookshelves standing in the corners, filled with odd tomes of lore. You believe this must either be the living room or the study. It isn't until you crane your head over your right shoulder that you realize there's a fourth person in the room.

The man is wearing shoddy jeans, a plaid collar shirt, and a beige vest. Atop his head is a battered old baseball cap. He looks mildly uncomfortable when you meet his eyes.

"So..." You begin once you turn back to the front. "Now that you have me sufficiently trapped. I believe we can start with the twenty questions." In your current state of mind, you can't help the sarcasm leaking in your tone.

From the looks of everyone here, you doubt you're in any immediate danger. It seems all your captors want is information… for now. You'll play the role of an obedient prisoner; you've nothing to hide anyway. Besides… there's quite a bit you can learn here. Haven't you been dying of curiosity for the past few days?

The two men look at each other, unprepared with your cooperative behavior.

"Uh... okay." The hunter you remember as Sam shifts his weight to his other leg. "How about we start off with your name."

"Alice," you say simply.

Sam gives a slow nod. "Alice what?"

You shrug. "Just Alice. I don't have a last name."

Dean makes a face. "C'mon. Everyone has a last name."

You expire a sigh. "My name is Alice, just Alice because I was an orphan. The orphanage that took me in told me I was dropped on their doorstep with nothing but the name Alice sewed over my blanket. So no last name. However, if you want, I can give the serial number they gave me when I was entered into the system." You watch the faces of the two men twist with chagrin. You can practically feel the awkwardness rolling off them.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." Sam mutters.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Please. It was hardly a tragic experience. The staff members were all quite nice to me. I was cared for, had a warm roof over my head, and plenty of food. I should probably send them some flowers."

Dean flexes his jaw, seeming much less sympathetic. "The spell you used when you poofed out on us. If you're not a witch, how are you able to use magic?"

The edge of your mouth twitches and you're instantly conscious of the staring angel to your left. "I didn't exactly poof out. I was there the entire time. The spell I used just makes me impossible to detect. I could be hanging off your back and you wouldn't be able to tell." You take a small pause. "As for the magic. It was just a simple incantation. Anyone who understood the spell and the words would be able to use it. "

You see their skepticism.

"Where did you learn all this? I doubt your orphanage was giving out magic 101."

You're unimpressed with his sardonic tone. You look down and chew your lips. The story will sound ludicrous to anyone's ears and you don't know how to explain it in a sensible light. "You're not going to believe me."

"Why don't you try us?" The scoff on Dean's face is enough indication of how he'll react. His friend, however, regards you with more sincerity.

"I have a book of spells that only I can read." Your words send their eyebrows soaring. "The book suddenly appeared in my apartment last year, and I've been studying it ever since."

Dean shoots you a look like you've just told him pigs could fly. "Right. A book of spells that only you can read magically appeared in your apartment one day. Isn't that convenient."

You shoot him a pointed look, you already said he wouldn't believe you. "I'm not lying."

The taller hunter doesn't seem to disregard your words so quickly, but he remains silent. His eyes continue to study you while he ruminates on your explanation.

"Where is this book?"

You glance to the left. The angel in the trench coat has stepped forward and looks like he's ready to take off at a moment's notice. You answer him slowly, "It's on my bookshelf in my room." Is he really planning on finding it now?

You blink and the angel is gone. A few seconds later, he appears again next to the two hunters, giving them a start. He looks down at his hands, and you see the familiar book bound with dark leather. The angel lifts the tome closer to view, "Is this the one?"

You nod mechanically. You don't like how he just entered your home, but you're even more alarmed by how quickly he found your apartment.

Sam and Dean move to either side of Castiel as he lifts the buckle and opens the book. Furrowing his eyebrows, he flips the pages at random. Sam tries to lean in for a better look, his face produces an equal look of confusion. "What language is that?"

Castiel shakes his head. "I've never seen these symbols before." He passes the book to Sam, who then brings it to the man in the baseball cap behind you. The angel returns his gaze to you, prompting you with the same question.

You shrug. "I don't know. All I can do is read it. I don't know how I can either. I've shown it to others. Scholars, professors, random people I've met. Hasn't worked for anyone else."

Dean crosses his arms. "And you have no idea how it just appeared in your room?"

You shake your head. "There were no signs of forced entry. Nothing of mine was stolen. I literally have not one clue. I was wary at first, but I didn't find any dangerous spells in the book either." You stare lazily at the ceiling, running through the text in your memory. "No animal sacrifice or child murder. Just a few small spells that came in handy once in a while. I even found the cure for werewolf bites in there too." You blink when you remember. "Speaking of which. How was she?"

Sam pats the side of his leg, momentarily distracted. "Uh, yeah. She's fine. No reaction to silver at all. Probably still at the hospital."

You nod, satisfied. "So, anything else?"

There's an impatient sigh behind you.

"Oh, for the love of..."

You glance at the man with the baseball cap.

"Um, Bobby? Problem?" Sam asks.

"Yeah." He gestures towards you. "Do ya really think all this is necessary?" When the boys don't answer, the man named Bobby throws his hands in the air. "From what you've told me, you've basically just kidnapped a girl, who's also a hunter by the way, hasn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, cured someone from turning into a werewolf and is right now answering all your questions rather compliantly."

You raise an amused eyebrow when you see the three boys looking oddly ashamed. When no one moves, Bobby rolls his eyes. "Good Lord..."

He walks up and steps over the glowing circle without a second thought. The boys are planted where they are, unsure if they should stop him. After a few seconds, they cede to let Bobby do as he likes. You gladly thank the man when he unties the last rope, rubbing your sore wrists. The cut that Uriel gave you is still bleeding.

"He's right."

You look up at the angel.

"I apologize for our treatment. You didn't deserve it."

Castiel steps towards you and you lean back. He moves his hand to your cut, evaluating your expression. Your eyes flit from his face to his hand but otherwise say nothing. He places his fingers over the bleeding wound. The flicker of strain in his eyes does not escape your notice. When his hand begins to glow, there's a flash of heat radiating from your cut. You wince, but the pain immediately fades. Once Castiel pulls away, your arm is completely healed and clean of any bloody smudges.

"Wow." You marvel at your freshly healed skin, twisting it around. "Thanks. I guess."

When Bobby and Castiel step out of the circle again, you decide to stand up and stretch. Glancing over to the hunters, their expressions tell you that they have more questions. You decide to continue your complacency and sit back down. "Okay, so what else would you like to know?"

The two men are taken aback as your obedience still appears to be a foreign trait. Unwilling to wait for the speechless hunters, Bobby decides to speak. "When you were captured by the demons the other night, did you happen to know what they were trying to do?"

Your brows knit as you try to recall the events. "All I know is that they were going on about breaking some seal called Agiel. They needed the cup and three more ingredients to break it: the blood of a newborn vampire, blood of a freshly turned werewolf, and the blood of a human. They brought in a mature vampire and werewolf to turn the two girls they kidnapped. One of them we saved, the other one, I reckon you buried. I was the last one."

Dean breaks out of his daze, his mind beginning to piece together the information. "They didn't know you weren't human."

Your face falls. "Okay. I'm still not saying that." You shoot the angel a disbelieving look. "I'm gonna need more proof than just angel boy here's say-so."

Castiel opens his mouth to interject but is cut off by Sam.

"Speaking of which. If you were able to use your spells, why didn't you get away? How did you even get captured?"

"I was investigating them!" you say defensively. "There hasn't been this much demon activity since... ever! The only way I could think of to get more information was to let them capture me." Which unfortunately led me to you guys. You look to the ground and trail off. You don't know what else the hunters can possibly ask for. You've pretty much told them everything pertinent… unless they wanted to start dissecting your orphan childhood. Perhaps it's your turn to get some information. You peer up to examine their thoughtful faces. "You guys know what's been going on, right? Who's this Lilith, and why are there so many demons running around?"

The men exchange looks, wondering whether or not they should tell you.

"Lilith is the first demon ever created by Lucifer, and she's been breaking seals around the world in order to release him from his cage."

Your eyes widen.

Dean and Sam turn their heads to Castiel with vexed expressions, unhappy with the way he just spilled the beans. The angel looks back, slightly confused. "I see no disadvantage to her knowing this."

The rest of their conversation falls on deaf ears. Your brain is still having trouble adjusting to what had just been said. You wonder for a moment with the sincere belief that you must have misheard. "Lucifer." You mouth out. Even wrapping your lips around the name feels strange. "As in, the devil, Lucifer?"

Castiel nods.

You stare at the four of them, scanning their faces. From the men's reactions, the angel probably isn't lying. Oh, what the hell. Demons exist, and now, so do angels. You've been living much of your life as a hunter, are you really going to be surprised by this? But isn't the devil supposed to be the ruler of hell? And yet he's in a cage? Did the angels put him there? Or… God, possibly? If there's angels, God must then exist, right? Your forehead creases as you try to make sense of your thoughts. You think you need to brush up on your bible stories. If God or the angels threw Lucifer in a cage, then the seals they're speaking of must be something like locks…? "So how many seals does she need to break to do this?"

"Sixty-six," replies Dean.

You nod slowly. "And how many has she broken?"

The men turn to Castiel again. The angel's expression becomes grim. "We don't know exactly, but we believe she has broken more than half."

You shoot him an incredulous look.

"We're doing the best we can to stop them. So you can see why we couldn't afford to let you leave." You're pushed back again by the heated pressure of his gaze. "Not when Lilith is searching for an immortal."

You lower your head, feeling lightheaded and surreal. "Why does she want an immortal?"

Castiel tightens his jaw. "We don't know... yet."

Peering down at your lap, your mind continues its steadfast digestion. Should you trust them to protect you? Even if you escape, they'll likely just find you again. You have no idea how to ward yourself against angels, plus this Lilith character doesn't sound like something you can handle alone. The angel before you seems relatively easy to work with, but you balk at the idea of enduring the other one. Decisions, decisions. Your mind runs through the different routes you could take and the possible outcomes of each choice. You toy with various ideas before you settle for the one least risky.

"So…" you say with a measured tone. "It seems like my best course of action would be to stay here…"

You can tell the men aren't too happy with the arrangements the angels have foisted on them. Whatever their relationship with heaven or the angels, it seems shaky at best. Dean sighs, pulling a hand down his jaw. He's obviously mulling out the finer details but in general agreement. "Yep."

Sam offers you a wry grin. You suppose he thinks you're in the same boat as them now.

You temporarily quash your insecurities and push yourself to embrace the circumstances. Your interests seem more or less aligned, so the practical move right now would be to make them see you as an ally. There's still a lot more you can learn from them, and you've better chances at maintaining your safety if you secure a friendship.

"Well then." You stand up, smiling as cordially as you can. "Guess I'll be imposing on you a while longer."


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