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DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except the plot and my OC's

Now onto the story

-lem

Sera

First thought: Why is everything so fuzzy?

Second thought: Oh yeah demons and that bloody frying pan. I got knocked out.

Third thought: So who are those guys?

I slowly focused on the room. Nothing. It was a large space, almost empty. An old industrial car crusher was shoved in one corner, abandoned and forgotten about. The walls were a light shade of grey, paint slowly peeling. There were a few windows at the very top. I couldn't see where I was, but it was light. I got knocked out at around 1am, so how long had I been out for?

I went to stand up, but I couldn't. I looked at my wrists. They were bound in rope, as was my torso and legs. I sighed in frustration. I looked down. Around me was a bright red devils trap, almost unearthly in the golden light. Around it were flames. I had no idea what they were for. Did these guys want mood lighting or something?

I heard whispers come from the corridor.

"Dean, what is she? Demon? Shapeshifter? Angel? Do you think she knows who we are?"

"No, otherwise she would have killed us at the diner Sammy."

"Or she has been ordered not to. Winchester's have a high price with the apocalypse on the cards."

I struggled against the rope, then remembered I had a pen knife in my back pocket. I adjusted my position, and nothing. The guys must have took it off me.

I couldn't believe it. Winchesters. Sam and Dean Winchester. The people who grabbed Lucifer out of the lock box and shoved his ass back on earth. But that was just a rumour, right? I mean, yeah, they started the apocalypse, but Lucifer? Angels? Yeah right. But then again, he didn't exactly tell me everything after my little 'vacation'. And everything has been going crazy, and it's something pretty damn powerful. Angels? I've heard crazier become true.

I looked down at my arms. The lacy sleeve on the left was intact, thank god. On the other hand, the right one was shredded, dripping blood. I spat some blood onto the floor as must have heard me and came in.

"You know, I really don't appreciate being tied up. It's kind of boring to be honest."

Sam and Dean looked over at me, then back at each other with stony glances. Dean started traversing the flames around the edge of the trap, a duffle bag in his hand. He put the hand in the bag and brought out about 6 different knifes, copper, silver and a knife with engravings. Wait. Were those demonic engravings?

Dean looked at me with deep green eyes.

"If you are a hunter, you know the drill, right?" I nodded.

"But I don't remember the flames. We are not in the middle ages. See!-"I gestured with my head over to the light overhead, currently switched off. "E-L-E-C-T-R-I-C-I-T-Y." I spelled it out for him as I remembered I had high heels on. I re-positioned my foot ever so slightly, so it was on the rope. I started to saw as I said. "Perhaps you have heard of it. You know, being 2009 and all."

Dean just observed me as he pulled up my left sleeve and adjusted the ropes to turn it on the inside.

"What the- Sammy…"

Sam also entered the devils trap as I felt my left ankle become free. I then started on the right, trying to break the industrial rope.

Sam also looked down at my arm and gasped. There was my birthmark in all its full glory. It was paler than my usual skin, and looked almost like the point of a dagger, or a single flame stretching up my arm.

If they were astonished about this, God help them if they saw my back or hips. They would die of shock.

Dean quickly made cuts along my arms, to make sure I wasn't a paranormal baddie, just your average(ish) woman. Well, to a point. He then chucked salt and a bottle of holy water. Some of it got in my mouth, as I spat out a mixture of blood, spit, salt and holy water all over the shorter Winchester. He stumbled back and looked at his plaid shirt, annoyance on his face.

"You sonofabitch." He muttered as he picked up a knife.

"Who are you really?" Sam asked, as he had to restrain Dean from running me though with the copper knife.

"My name really is Sera. I didn't lie about that."

"Last name?" I sighed. This was going to be a long night, full of migraines and possible murder.

"I don't have one."

"Wadda mean, you don't have a last name. Everyone has a last name!" I sighed again.

"Well done Sherlock! We have the next great detective in our presence. Yes, I probably do have a last name, but I can't remember it."

Sam looked at me with concern. "What last name do you use right now?" Dean asked

"Christo. Sera Christo is what I call myself these days. But it doesn't seem right."

Sam shook his head. "Dean, you're missing the point." He turned back to me, his voice softer. "What do you mean you don't remember?" I cocked my head and looked at him.

"Wow, Cinderella, I weep at our little therapy session. Stop treating me like a wounded animal that needs to be taken care of. Let me out of these ropes, and I'll spill my life story, the bits I remember anyway, if you so desire."

"Not a chance sweetheart. You may not be a demon, or shape shifter, but your eyes, they became pure black. And with your mojo that looks suspiciously like demon blood powers, you 'aint going anywhere sunshine." Great. Now they knew even more, but demon blood? So THAT'S what that fucker was doing. If I ever saw him again, I was going to gouge his eyes out. Slowly. Painfully. And possibly with a spork. I blinked again, and my eyes changed to demonic black, which I hated, but they knew now. Not exactly a point in hiding it. Dean started pacing backwards, and Sam stumbled and almost tripped over the duffle. I snorted.

"Well, look who is graceful, eh?" Dean took the knife with the symbols and approached me.

"But… you're not a demon, holy water doesn't affect you, so how- Sammy? Could this be a side effect from the blood?"

"Possible. If you have enough in your system anyway." My eyes reverted back to normal as they widened.

"Does this demon blood stuff make me have the Jedi exorcism powers?" I was so confused right now. All along, I thought it was just from my vacation, but now, something happened to me for those years I was out of it.

Snap. The second rope came undone. Now I just had to unite my hands and torso, and I was a free woman. But tweedledee and tweedledumbass had answers, which I hadn't be getting recently. I just went out, did his dirty work, and stayed out as long as possible. I might get answers for once.

"You don't know?" Sam questioned "You're going to have to tell us everything you know." My eyes went back to normal as I looked at him with what can only be described as a 'are you fucking serious?' face.

"Untie me first though. I'm not exactly comfy here. It's like sitting on a brick wall for 14 hours straight. Believe me, I've done that. Not recommending it."

Sam went up to me has he started hacking at the ropes on my torso, Dean in the background looking at me with suspicion. I stared back at him.

"I know you don't trust me, Midge-chester, but give me a chance before you shish-kebab me, and chop me into 5 pieces."

"You can't call me a midget-you're the midget-midget, I'm taller than you!" He said indignantly

"I know. But compared to gigantor over here-", I gestured to Sam as he was cutting the rope on my left arm. "You are pretty small." The corner of his mouth turned up as Sam looked between us, irritated.

"Touché."

The final ropes snapped as I stood up, right arm torn to a pulp. Sam reached into the duffle and brought out a medical kit, he poured alcohol over the cuts. It stung like a bitch, but I have faced worse. I screwed up my face in discomfort.

"Cheers Sam."

I started getting up out of the chair as my back clicked, and my neck killed. We were not even mentioning my head and arms at this point.

I approached the edge of the devils trap, with orange flames all around. I crossed over the edge, put it was like a force was pulling me back. I managed to keep my balance as I sat atop a work bench in the corner, legs swinging.

Sam pulled up a chair, as Sam sat down in it, Dean leant against the wall.

"Tell us everything." I snorted.

"Most things, not everything. I aint spilling my life story, here. Where are we though?

"An abandoned car factory just outside of Phoenix." I breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Thank god we are not far from the motel. I thought we would be halfway across the country by now."

"Spill then."

"Impatient sod." I muttered under my breath. "Sit down kids, its story time with Aunt Sera. So before age 16, I was, god knows where. Then age 16, took in by a demon. Personally, I think he kidnapped me. He sent me for a little 'vacation' is what he called it. Load of bullshit. Being on the rack in hell, 8 years straight was not particularly Disneyland-"I looked at the brothers, Sam looking at me with pity, Dean with a combination of sorrow and something that said to me, I've been there, and it sucks.

"8 years? I was only in there 4 months. Was it 8 years hell or human time?" I looked down, taking a sudden interest in my feet.

"Human." I muttered shakily.

"God I'm sorry Sera." I chocked back a sob, as I remember that place, but then I smiled.

"I gave the demons hell, they liked to hear people scream, so I sung instead, even though I can't sing for toffee. It drove them nuts, but it was a little compensation for being in hell."

"I think I remember." Dean said. "Rumour was that there was someone who sung instead of screamed, and some had followed in your footsteps. How did you get sprung?"

"The demon who chucked me in, he went ninja made and pulled me out. He said it was only supposed to be a week, a hell week mind you, just to learn a little bit, but a demon named Alastair found out and always moved me around, torturing me in the process. I hope he is dead." My anger was almost overwhelming, I clutched my fists, short nails digging in to my palms

"Alistair? He put me on the rack too. He's dead." Happiness overwhelmed me.

"Dead? How?"

"Sammy here killed him." I didn't care anymore. Anyone who snuffed Alistair was okay with me.

"Thank god. Anyway- I believed that demon, he didn't seem as bad as Alistair. Still didn't trust him, though. After waking up attached to a drip full of blood, I was very suspicious. He sent me on jobs, to kill his enemies, it was only demons, so I wasn't too bothered. He taught me about how to use a gun, dagger, knife ect. Few years back, I was wounded pretty badly, but I got healed by a stranger. Still don't know who it was." I didn't, but I remembered the guys face. What he was wearing. I don't think I could ever forget. "So now, just nosing around, and then I hear you two dumbasses set Luci out, apocalypse on us. So I have turned to trying to stop this, cause if Mike and Luci have a showdown, its gonna be fucking Armageddon. Didn't particularly ask for it, not on my Christmas list.

Sam and Dean looked at each other with a silent look

"We had better take you back to Bobby's." Sam said

"Bobby?" I asked, confused.

"Bobby Singer, a friend of ours, who lives in Sioux Falls. He should know what's going down, both with you and the apocalypse-"

"But first" I cut in. "We are going to the motel."

"Why?" I started to get severely annoyed then.

"A. Not leaving my van at the motel, 2. I seriously need a shower 3. All of my possessions are back there, 4. Think I will freak people out if I go looking like an extra from the walking dead?"

"Fine." Dean and Sam looked back and forth at one another again. Dean started walking out, and I followed him. My feet were killing, so I took off my shoes as we walked in the fresh air.

"It's like doing the walk of shame." I muttered, as Sam and Dean heard and started laughing as we went into the Impala.

I had a feeling I had just made some allies here. In the most unlikeliest of people.

Dean Turned into the parking lot of the Truman Motel. I looked out of the window and saw a familiar black van, just where I parked it. Before the car even stopped, I opened the door and jumped out. I tried to run to the van, but my feet were still busted from the combination of rope burns and blisters. Shards of glass started working into my feet from broken bottles, but I barely felt a thing as I started unlocking the van. I never kept anything in a motel room except what I needed for the day. My fingers fumbled as the lock finally came undone, as Sam and Dean approached at either side of me.

"Jesus Sera, don't ever-"Dean started

"Whoa." The brothers both looked at each other and back to the inside of the van. I turned around and smiled.

"Stop catching flies there boys, and come on in. Just mind your head."

They both looked at my van. I think they were the only people who had ever saw this, and their reactions should have been videotaped or something. The van was just average, except I had installed sliding walls. They were all open. One had all weapons, the other lore books clothes and everything else I needed. I grabbed a pistol and closed the compartment. I then went digging for some clean clothes.

"Sera." Sam asked "What do all of these mean?" He tapped one of the symbols on the wall, as I stated looking for some jeans.

"As far as I know, most are demon warding, spirit warding, I think even a few are angel proofing. The one thing I am sure of is this." I pointed upwards towards the devil trap on the ceiling. "This is the only one I actually know. Devils trap. Oh and Dean-" I said, not even looking at him but knowing what he was doing "Don't touch my guns" Dean looked startled but dropped it to the floor anyway.

"Where did you find all of these anyway?" I grabbed my rucksack and started putting my clothes in the battered black bag.

"I don't know. Devils trap, easy enough, but this-" I gestured to all of the rest of the symbols "-This is- I don't know." I grasped the bag and pushed the Winchesters out of the van. As I was locking it I asked

"What room you in, I'll meet you there in what, half an hour?"

"Room 16, you?" Dean said

"Room 15. Later."

I scrubbed my hair, feeling trepidation. The steam started rising as I thought about what had just learned over the last, what, day or so?

Demon blood. I thought the worst medical condition I had was poor eyesight and PTSD from hell and that the black smoke powers were just, hell side effects but nooo, demon blood. This explained something, at least. The bags.

I jolted awake. I looked around shakily, thinking this is just another hallucination, from Alistair. My sleeves that were once too big for me were now way above my wrist. My throat was as dry as sticks, feet almost reaching off the end of the bed. The room was almost like a hospital, including the IV bags. 2 blood bags were hooked up to my wrists. The blood was dark, almost darker than usual. I quickly pulled out the lines connecting me to the blood, barely grimacing as I did so.

I stood up. I was shaking on my feet. I found a small bathroom adjoined to the room. It was a little posh, but all of the fixtures looked fake. I turned the tap on, cupped my hands and gasped as the water entered my system. It was the first relief I had felt in, what, over 900 years? Alistair would never allow this even if it was a hallucination. I was free.

I gasped as I felt my face break into a smile. I threw some water over my face and glanced up at the mirror. My face fell as looked in the mirror.

What happened? Last time I looked I was a chubby 15 year old with hazel eyes and long ginger blonde hair. Now, I was so thin, almost malnourished. I had been wanting to lose weight, but I looked all most… ill. My eyes, my god what happened? They were almost black. Was I even the same girl? More importantly, who was I?

I only remembered my first name. Seraphine. Where was I? I heard the door creak open as I spun around. I must have looked absolutely manic.

A man cam though the door, suit coated in dust, cut on his cheek. It slowly started to disappear as he looked at me with pity.

"I'm so sorry, love."

I didn't realise I was dressed and was walking out of the door, almost in some sort of a trance.

I hammered door number 16 with annoyance.

"Hello? Guys! ARE WE GOING OR NOT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WAITING FOR THE GRASS TO GROW!?

The door swung open as I saw dumb and dumber lock the door.

"Sammy, you ride with sera, make sure she doesn't go AWOL-"

"Love you too Dean.-"

"-and I'll drive Baby. Meet you at Bobby's. Take about a day, but still. We need bobby's help on this."

I groaned. I hated long drives.

I almost fell asleep at least 6 times on the journey to Sioux Falls. We pulled into a salvage yard, with a ramshackle old house perched in the middle.

The boys thudded the door.

"Bobby! Bobby open up! It's Sam and Dean." Dean shouted.

"Alright, alright, I'm comin'!" a guy opened the door, average height with a battered cap on.

"Boys, thank god. I thought you idjits had finally said yes. Glad I was wrong." They walked in as I did a mock salute and tried to follow them, but the doorway was blocked by the guy.

"Cool it Bobby. This is what we need to talk to you about. Her. "

"Well you princesses had better come in then." I snorted as I walked in. I liked this guy already.

"So what you are telling me is that you don't know who you are, or what you are."

"And bingo was his name-o." I was so nervous. What the hell was I? I slowly started turning the sliver ring back and forth in anxiety, a habit of mine. Bobby looked at it and his face slowly started turning the colour of porridge, a white grey. His eyes widened as he pinned me up against the wall, a knife in one hand looked at him with fear and he roughly pulled the ring off and looked at the scratching on the inside. A anti possession symbol and the words S.S, 1990 on the inside. He pulled up my left sleeve to show the birthmark and he started at me. I screamed for Sam and Dean, but they mustn't have heard.

"WHO ARE YOU!?" he screamed. It was difficult to breathe.

"Sera. Name's Sera." I said quietly.

"Seraphine? Is that you?"

"Do I know you?" I asked as he put the ring back on and pulled the knife away from my throat. The Winchesters came running down the stairs, looking between Bobby and me. Bobby's eyes were filled with unshed tears, but he was trying to be strong.

"You don't- no you wouldn't. I'm such an idjit. I thought you were dead, I stopped looking." I was so scared. I knew this guy somehow?

"Who are you?" I asked quietly. "How do I know you? Do you know who I am?"

"I'm Bobby Singer. I raised you from 6 months old. Your name-"he looked at me "Is Seraphine Singer."