I guided Dean back to my motel room in the Impala, and by the time we'd arrived, Sam had regained consciousness.

"You got a First Aid kit?" Dean asked, as he lowered his brother onto the couch.

"In the bathroom, and there's whiskey in the fridge," I called back.

"What are you doing with whiskey?" Sam mumbled. I raised my eyebrows at him, and a pained smile played on his lips.

"Morgan, by the way. Wilde."

"No freaking way!" Sam echoing his brother perfectly was strange. They were so alike, even though I could tell they were trying to deny it.

"That's right, Sammy," Dean interrupted as he brought in the First Aid kit and an already open bottle of whisky, "THE Morgan Wilde took down sixteen vamps while you were bleeding out. What d'ya think she made of that, huh?"

"Both of you were taking a massive risk," I answered for him, "You'd just rolled in to town, you charge into a nest of vamps unprepared, not knowing how many there would be. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but that's more than a little reckless."

"Well look who's talking," replied Dean, his voice suddenly cold, "You're only a kid, and you were on your own! Before you talk to us about recklessness, take a look at yourself!"

"Dean," Sam winced as Dean poured the alcohol onto a long cut on his side, "She saved our lives. If she hadn't come, we'd be vamp chow already."

"C'mon Sammy, she's what, seventeen?"

"Fifteen, actually," I butted in, "But I know you were hunting long before that age."

"That's different! We weren't alone!"

"No, you weren't, but… but…"

I couldn't finish my sentence, as the room took an almighty lurch and my head began to spin. In all the rush to get Sam patched up, I'd forgotten about the bite on my neck. My vision swam black and white, and I felt a strong pair of arms catch me before I hit the floor.

I didn't know how long I blacked out for, but when I opened my eyes again, Sam had a bandage pressed to my neck and Dean was lifting me onto the bed. I tried sitting up, but my body wouldn't respond.

"You alright, kid?" Dean asked, his initial animosity forgotten again.

"I've had worse, if that's what you mean," I returned.

"It's weird though. Seeing a hunting legend like you just... like this."

"C'mon, we all make mistakes, right? We're all human."

"About that," Sam said. I froze, and I felt my pulse rise quickly. Did they know? Had they thrown holy water on me when I was out?

"We just need to check. Silver, holy water, all that."

I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. They didn't know. I wanted to keep it that way.

I reached over to the cabinet by the side of the bed, and took out a silver knife. I drew it over my forearm, my blood trickling out in a steady stream. Then I extracted my 'holy water'. In truth, it was just distilled water, and didn't hurt me when I poured it down my throat. Although I was a demon, I had no intention of hurting the boys, and I didn't want them to jump to conclusions.

They smiled, satisfied, and proceeded to do the same tests with their own knives and real holy water.

"Right, that's the formalities. What happens now?" I inquired.

"We thought about that too," Sam replied. "We know you're a kid. But you're the best hunter either of us has ever seen. What you did back in the vamp nest; that was unlike anything we've ever seen! But however good anyone is, no one should hunt alone."

"Where's this going?" I asked, warily.

"We want you to come with us. Be on our team," answered Dean.

I didn't know what to say. When I'd escaped Hell, I thought it'd take decades to even find the Winchesters, and double that to get them to trust me. But now, after less than three years topside, they were offering to work with me. I was stunned. But of course, I knew the answer.

"I'd like that. After all, you're gonna need someone to keep you in line!"