Chapter Four:

The safe place turned out to be a dingy, stain covered, extremely crappy, probably cockroach infested hotel room. Standing barefoot in the middle of the room, I debating rather or not I wanted to take a shower. I was covered in ash and sweat, my makeup felt like a thick layer of goo on my face and my left foot was bleeding. Overall, I felt gross. Did I want to risk a sexually transmitted decease by taking a shower? No… well, maybe yes.

A hot shower sounded really good right now. Just the thought of it sent a shiver of anticipation across my body. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling out all my bobby pins and placing them on the dresser by the TV. Exhaustion hung on my limbs, making it a chore to move. Now that the adrenaline had worn off I could feel aches and pain all over my body. My lungs burned, my head pounded, and I was cold. And tired. I had forced myself to stay awake, to square my shoulders and retain my ever calm appearance.

"Here," Sam said suddenly, stepping out of the bathroom.

I turned to face him, noticing the first aid kit he held in his hands. I smiled gratefully at him, "Thanks."

"Yeah," Sam said as way of thanks. He motioned for me to sit on the dresser, "Go ahead and sit up there."

I did as I was told, leaning back against the dresser and placing my hands behind me for balance as I pulled myself up and sat. Sam knelt down in front of me; he shot me a quick glance before turning his gaze back to my bleeding foot and gently took hold of my leg, his touch surprisingly gentle for a hunter, and balanced my heel on his knee. I watched his fluid moves as he inspected my foot, before opening the first aid kit and pulling out an alcohol wipe and tore it open. I flinched slightly as he begun to clean my foot and adverted my gaze.

My eyes fell on Dean. He was seated in a chair by the window where the only table had been placed. He turned toward us after peaking out to see if there was anything suspicious lurking in the night, before his eyes fell on me. I felt a blush slide across my checks, feeling the phantom touch of his hands on my hips. A look I didn't quite understand flashed across Dean's face before he turned back to the table. He had laid out his gun, taken it apart and now he began cleaning it. Was that supposed to be a comfort or a threat or just away to keep his hands busy?

"Start talking," Dean ordered in a gruff voice, not bothering to look at me.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," I said, my snarky attitude matching his distant one. I shook my head at Dean's gun, "I can't take you seriously while you're dressed like Aquaman."

"Okay. I think it's safe to say we are all hunters," Sam interjected. He tossed the blood stained alcohol wipe into the trashcan next to the dresser and pulled out a large square Band-aid he placed against the majority of the bottom of my foot, covering the cut. He smiled up at me, done, and stood.

"I'm pretty sure it's not safe to say anything, Sam," Dean responded. Jeez, what happened to the guy who had risked his life to save mine? The guy I shared that moment with?

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam said, before pointing to his partner, "This is my brother, Dean."

I gave them a sickly sweet smile, "I'm Arianna Tabitha Marie Van Helsing, but you can call me True."

"Van Helsing?" Sam scoffed, looking first to me, then Dean, and then back again, "As in-"

"Yes, as in Abraham Van Helsing. I'm his descendent," I waved my hand dismissively.

"But he's not real," Sam said, staring at me with amused disbelieve.

"Neither are werewolves, vampires, ghost, ghouls, and demons," I rattled off, "They say unicorns aren't real either, but they're still running around Scotland like they own the place."

Sam's eyes widened at me in astonishment. He opened his mouth, but Dean cut him off.

"You lied to us," Dean said snapping the barrel of the gun into place as he rebuilt his gun, "You knew something was after you. Not telling us was dangerous."

"You lied to me first, Agent," I shot back, "Yeah, I knew something was after me, but it's complicated. I didn't know for sure if it was who I thought it was, or if I could trust you."

"And what is it you think it is?" Dean asked, growing impatient.

"A demon," I said. I swallowed down the lump in my throat, not meeting either of their eyes, "If it is the demon I'm thinking of, it has been around a long time. I've been hiding from if for as long as I can remember."

"Is that why you changed your name?" Sam asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, that's a part of it."

"So what happened tonight, then?" Sam asked, sitting down on one of the queen sized beds and disgracing the first aid kit behind him.

"I saw a demon, slapped a one way ticket to hell on his ass, but not before he set fire to the room," I folded my arms across my chest, thinking back to that moment. I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms.

"So it's over then?" Dean asked, looking impressed, "Case closed?"

"Not exactly," I said with a sarcastic nod, "The demon mentioned another demon coming for me. But yeah, for you case closed. You guys, you don't need to worry about me. I got this."

"Yeah, that's not gunna happen," Dean said with a shake of his head. He slammed a full magazine into the slot of his gun, the click of it somehow sounding like a silent promise. He stood up from the table, and came to stand a few feet from me. At 5'5" inches I was average height for a woman. Dean was only a little over a head taller than me, about 6'1", but he still seemed to tower over me. "You're stuck with us, sweetheart, at least until we gank this son of a bitch."

I blinked up at him. I could feel the hate he had for these demons radiating off of him in waves, a hate much deeper than simply not wanting them all dead. He had a bone to pick with them. Dean fixed an unwavering gaze of determination on me, and like magic my heart rate slowed. There would be no talking him out of this. Even if I said no, he'd find away to intervene. Just like tonight. They must have been fallowing me, and I was glad. For the first time since my father had died, I actually felt safe. I wanted him to stay with me.

"Fine," I said, slightly more eager then I had meant, "We'll work together."

"Good," Dean gave me a satisfied look, "Then we need to figure out why this demon is after you. Pissed anyone of lately?"

"I'm a Van Helsing," I said, "I piss demons off just by breathing."

"But you said this demon has been after you for a long time," Sam said, as Dean returned to his spot at the table. "Why?"

"The Van Helsing's, even before they where the Van Helsing's, have been hunting monsters for hundreds of years," I explained, "Millennia even."

"So you've always been a hunter?" Dean asked, eyeing me closely and looking slightly disappointed.

"All my life," I said, confused at the look, "Now don't interrupt. Before I was born, my Aunt Rosemary killed a demon, actually killed it as impossible as that seems." Sam and Dean shared a look, but I ignored them. "The demon she killed had a lover. One who swore to eradicate the Van Helsing bloodline. So it's been hunting us down ever since."

"What about the rest of your family?" Sam asked with a pity filled look, suddenly realizing what I was implying, "Are they- I mean, can't you go to them for help?"

"The only one left is in England," I said. Even if she could look past the last time we had seen each other, there was a chance she wouldn't get here in time. I wasn't about to wait around for her, either.

"Then you'll just stick with us," Dean said as if that were the simplest thing in the world, "The demon will show up eventually and we'll kick its ass."

"I appreciated your confidence," I said with a smile.

"Okay, then" Sam said, sharing a look with Dean. There was a silence of an unspoken conversation between them, clearly agreeing that that was the end of the discussion. Sam turned back to me, his tone taking on a forced nonchalance, "So, if your family has been around for so long, you've got to have access to a lot of information, though, right? Like how to break a demon deal?"

"Sam, don't," Dean gave Sam a sharp look.

Interesting subject change. The air in the room became thick with enough strain I could cut it with a knife. I raised one brow in curiosity, looking from Sam's hopefully look to Dean's pained one. Realization dawned, and I gapped at them, "Someone you know sold their soul?"

Dean sighed, looking downcast, "It's a long story."

A ping of sorrow shot through me. Which poor bastards did they know sold their? Or worse, which one of them did? Judging by Dean's lack of interest in finding a way to scratch the deal, I'd bet it was him.

"You have to have access to hundreds of years of information, right?" Sam stood and hurried over to me. If Dean felt tall, Sam was a giant, loaming over me so I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes, "Ways to break a deal?"

"I can't help you-"

"There has to be something," Sam said.

"She said no, Sammy," Dean said.

"Please," Sam flashed me those puppy dog eyes and my heart melted despite my resolve. The pleading tone of his voice could have made a stone cry, "There has to be something."

"Look, I'm sorry, but even if I thought there was a way to break a demon deal, I still can't help you," I looked around Sam to Dean, "I left the Circle. That's why I'm alone. Any information they have about this, I no longer have access to."

"The Circle?" Dean and Sam asked in unison.

"It's a league of hunters biased out of the U.K.," I explained, rubbing my forehead. This was exhausting, "It was started during the dark ages."

"But the Circle?" Dean scoffed. "Seriously?"

"I didn't make it up!" I snapped, "It was named after the Knights of the Round Table. Anyway, I left the Circle, so I can't help. Nothing short of finding the demon with you contract can help."

"But it was just named after the legend, right?" Dean asked, skipping over the bit about his deal, "I mean, they weren't real, right?"

"What are you stupid? Of course they were real," I took a deep breath to clam my growing temper, "I'm an open target and I'm in the hands of you two newbie's?"

"Hey!" Dean retorted, offended.

"Then why'd you leave?" Sam asked; bring the conversation back on point, but I could still see I had offended him as well. "If it was safer with them, why don't you go back?"

"The Circle isn't what it used to be," I muttered, "Its main focus was destroying evil at any cost rather than saving lives." Including the lives of it hunters, meaning me.

"So there's nothing you can do?" Sam asked. Was the first time I said it not enough? "A favor you could cash in?"

"Just drop it, Sam," Dean snapped in a harsh tone that even had me flinching back. He stood up from the table and turned his back on us, looking out the window.

Awkward.

I could understand where Sam was coming from. If my sister had sold her soul I'd want to save her, even if we weren't talking. Yet, at the same time, she would have brought this on herself. I know that sounded mean, but in the Circle it was illegal to sell your soul. If they found out they killed you, simple as that. I was raised to believe that if you where stupid enough to sell your soul then you'd get what you had coming to you. Nothing was worth eternal damnation.

I cleared my throat, but couldn't think of anything to say. I could bring up the fact that someone was trying to kill me, but somehow that sounded selfish. So I just sat there in the awkward silence, drumming my fingers against the dresser and swinging my feet back and forth. I hated awkward silences. All that awkwardness and silence of everything that wasn't said, but we all knew needed to be said, just hanging in the air. It made me twitch, so I focused my mine elsewhere.

I was so deep in this shit I didn't know how I'd get myself out of this mess. Whatever problems Sam and Dean had where huge and I wasn't sure where I fit in with this. Sam's focus was more on Dean rather than helping me and that could be a problem. Dean seemed to have his sight set on the task at hand, but his choices weighted on him. That could also be a problem.

This demon was bad news, and I didn't want to risk my life trusting two guys who wouldn't have my back. I could ditch them, but I didn't want to. It has been a long time since I worked in a team and I missed it. It was so much easier, and safer, to work with others. Not to mention it was less stressful, even if you worried about your teammates dying all the time. I've had to work with people I didn't trust before, I could do it again. I'd accept their help. It's the least I could do since they went through all the trouble of offering it and all.

I glanced up to find the silence was still stretching on. Finally Dean grabbed his car keys and tossed them to Sam. He said, "Why don't you get us some food, when you get back we'll figure out our next move."

As if on cue my stomach gurgled at the mention of food. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until then, "Food sounds amazing."

"Okay," Sam said softly. He glanced at me before grabbing his jacket and making his way to the front door, "Any request?"

"Steak," I said, watching him slide his jacket over his Aquaman outfit. The dark leather of the jacket did not match the bright orange and green, making him look silly. I smiled, "Medium well, baked potato, and a side of seemed broccoli."

"Burgers it is, then," Sam gave me a half smile before leaving. The door closed with a soft click behind him.

I sighed, and turned to Dean, "I'm gunna get cleaned up."

I jumped off the dresser, flinching when my injured foot slammed against the floor, turned and disappeared into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. I turned on the shower and looked at myself in the mirror. I surprisingly didn't look as bad as I felt. My hair was a just woke up kind of messy, my mermaids outfit was dirty and torn, and despite the smudges of ash across my checks my makeup wasn't running. My props to Claire. I stripped out of my mermaid costume and underwear tossing them to the side. I stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain shut.

The water felt amazing, just as I predicted it would, and the bandage on my foot stayed in place. With the heat blasting I stood with my face toward the water unmoving, letting the water wash away all the grossness that weighed me down. I basked in the feel of it for a few extra minutes before I turned away. I use the complementary shampoo to clean my hair, and then practically used the whole tiny bottle of conditioner to detangle my hair. I scrubbed my body and face with the complementary bar soap until the water ran from murky grey to clear. The water had turned cold by the time I got out.

Using one of the neatly folded towels I wrapped it around myself. It was a thin, short piece of cloth, the hem brushing my upper thigh. Tucking the upper corner of the towel into the wrap around my chest, I collapsed onto the toilet seat. I looked down at my mermaid outfit with distain. I really didn't want to wear it and it was kind of ruined. That only left me one choice. I opened the door and peered out. Dean was still sitting at the table, but he had pulled out a computer and was staring intently at the screen, clicking the mouse pad ever so often. He'd also changed into a black t-shirt and jeans, his bare feet bounced against the wood flooring in boredom.

I marveled at the arch of his back, his shirt pulled tight across his broad and muscular shoulders. His jaw, which was covered in a day's worth of stubble, clenched and unclenched as he considered whatever he was reading. He lifted his free hand, running his fingers through his thick hair. I clenched my hands into first to fight the sudden desire I had to walk over and do the same. He really was stunningly handsome.

Good god, what the hell was wrong with me? Dean was a walking neon sign of bad ideas. Now was not the time to allow myself to get distracted. Especially with a guy on the fast track to hell, no thank you. Not when my life was at stake. I was in deep, deep shit.

"Hey, Dean?" I asked, pushing through my train of thoughts.

"Yeah?" Dean asked. His gaze found me as he leaned back in his chair. A look of desire and lust spread across his face as his eyes trailed down to the towel. The look both exited me and made me nervous.

"Do you have anything for me to wear?" I asked, pointing behind me, "My clothes are kind of ruined."

"Um, yeah," Dean pulled his eyes from me and stood. He walked over to one of the duffle bags and pulled out a long sleeved, button up, flannel shirt. His eyes found mine again and he walked over to me, holding his shirt out for me to take.

"Thanks," I said, taking hold of the shirt. I pulled it, but Dean didn't let go.

"You're welcome," Dean said in a husky voice, stepping closer.

He was directly in front of me now, our hands holding the shirt brushed against each other. Slowly Dean reached up his other hand and ran his fingers along my check, brushing my hair back as he tucked it behind my ear. He leaned forward, closing the distance between us, and pressed his lips against my temple.

"Now that's a horrible idea," I said, meeting Dean's eyes. The lust in his eyes was enough to make my knees weak.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean said softly, taking another step forward.

My body caved of its own accorded and I leaned into him. Dean took me by the chin, tiling my face toward his as he closed the distance between us, pressing his lips against me. The world went black around us and despite my better judgment I kissed him back. Dean lips left mine as he trailed burning kisses down my neck. He dug his teeth into the sink where my neck met my shoulder, causing me to gasp. I nibbled on his earlobe in return. That was enough for Dean.

Shirt forgotten, Dean released it, wrapping his arm around my waist as he buried his other hand in my hair, nipping his way along my jaw line, returning his lips to mine. I tossed the shirt behind me and allowed my hands to slide across his shoulders, pulling at his shirt until the tangled into his hair, holding his against me. Dean's hands moved along my body, finding the tuck of the towel, his fingers slowly beginning the towel free. I knew what was about to happen, but I couldn't stop. I wanted to kiss him. I moved my head, brushing my lips against his.

The door to the hotel room flew open with a bang as Sam walked into the room. I jumped way from Dean, holding the lose towel against me as Sam's eyes fell on us, a sly smile playing on his lips as he realized what had been happening. He was holding a brown bag and drink tray.

"Uh, hey guys, hungry?" Sam asked around a chuckle.

Dean ran his thumb across his bottom lip and he turned to face his brother, looking slightly annoyed, "Starving."

Embarrassed, I gave Sam a small smile, the blush on my face made me feel like a tomato in the sun. I cleared my throat and stepped back into the bathroom, closing the door. I blew out a breath and glanced at myself in the mirror. Just as I thought, I was red with humiliation, but I smiled at myself. This, whatever it was, really was a bad idea, for so many reasons, but it had also been amazing.

I turned away from the mirror and snatched up the shirt from where it had landed and set it on the sink. My body was dried, so I just wrapped my hair in the towel and slipping back into my underwear. I discarded the towel and then I slid the shirt over my head. It was way too big, falling like a skirt across my thighs. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows, made sure all the buttons were done (except for the top two.) I begun running my fingers threw my hair in an attempt to straighten it, and left the bathroom to face the two brothers.

Dean and Sam were sitting at the table, Sam was flipping through an old book that had probably seen better days, and Dean had just taken a massive bite out of a cheese burger. They paused and looked up at me. Dean's cheeks were puffed up from the food, and that same sly smile was still on Sam's lips.

Dean swallowed his food and flashed me a look that knotted my insides, "My shirt looks good on you."

Sam scoffed and Dean took another bite of his food, looking smug, clearly not as embarrassed as I was for being caught. I bit my bottom lip and smiled at him, two could play at that game.

"Imagine how good it would look off of me," I retorted. Dean nearly choked on his burger and I gave him my own smug smile. Sam chuckled and shook his head at me.

I walked over to the table and plucked up one of the containers of fries, "So, what are we gunna do?"

A pause as the Winchester exchanged a look. Sam said, "The demon will probably attack you again, and soon. It would be more likely to do that if you where alone."

"What?" Dean snapped, "And let the demon kill her?"

"You heard her, Dean," Sam said, "She's a hunter. She could handle it. And we'll be there to back her up."

"I am not letting her but herself in danger," Dean argued.

"Her is right here," I said, waving my hand for attention and annoyed they were treating me like I was invisible. "I'm not a child. I can make my own choices."

"This is stupid," Dean said. He put down his burger and whipped his mouth on a napkin. I could see the wheels turning as he tried to think up a better plan. "It's not happening."

I walked away and sat down on the bed, "It might be the only way." Both eyes turned to me. "The demon today was child's play, easy. The next one will be ten times worse. It will be the real deal."

"All the more reason you shouldn't go around with a huge sign that says 'I'm here, kill me.' Its suicide," Dean leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm done hiding," I stood back up. I wasn't about to back down, "I have spent my life protecting this world. I don't want to be afraid to live in it now."

"True-"

"Tomorrow I'm going back to Claire's," I said, cutting Dean off, "I will let this demon find me or I will find it, and I will send it straight back to hell. With or without your help."

"Fine," Dean sighed, but he didn't look happy, "but if we are going after the demon, then we are going to kill it. I don't want to risk it getting out of hell and coming after you again."

"How do you suggest we kill it?" I asked sarcastically, "I know my aunt killed a demon, but I don't know how she did it."

Dean stood up and walked over to his duffle bag that sat on the bed behind me. He dug around before pulling out an old gun. He held it out to me, almost reluctantly. Forgetting my fries, they fell from my hands as I took the gun. I flipped it over in my hands in amazement.

It was an old six shooter, worn from years of use, made during the nineteenth century. The barrel was made with iron, perfectly detailed with the words 'I will fear no evil' craved into it in Latin. The handle was smooth wood with a pentagram etched into it. It fit perfectly into the folds of my hand.

"This gun was made by Samuel Colt," I said, amazed.

Sam and Dean shared a look, the suspicion rising. Sam stood and took a few steps toward me, "How do you know that?"

I scoffed, "Who doesn't know that? My dad told me the stories, showed me the pictures. I thought it was just a legend. Samuel Colt and the Gun that could kill Anything. It was a fairytale. It really can kill demons?"

"Yeah," Dean held out his hand.

I handed it back to him. I understood why Dean had been so reluctant to hand it over to me. I wanted it.

"Then we're set," Dean tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, "Finish eating and then get some sleep. We'll need it."

"I love it when you take charge," I said with an eye roll.

After cleaning up my French fries and discarding them in the trash, I took Dean's seat at the table, which was covered in fast food wrappers. I grabbed one of the already open burgers and slid it across the table to me and took a bite.

"Hey! That's mine," Dean said, rushing over and swiping the burger out of my grasp.

I chewed the bite I had taken slowly, savoring the juiciness, and stared at Dean while I did it. He looked at his burger far more upset then he should have been at the bite that was missing. When he noticed me staring, he glared at me and I laughed. I reached into one of the bags and pulled out another burger. No one protested to me eating that one.

We ate our fill, downing the food with pop, before we turned our attention to the fact there were only two beds. My suggestion that I got my own room was shot down before I even finished suggesting it.

"Then what are we going to do? Share?" I asked before thinking that thought threw. Both pair of eyes shot to me, but my eyes only found Dean, and I suddenly remembered that all I was wearing was his shirt.

Dean opened his mouth, but Sam quickly said, "Why don't we just take turns sleeping. One of us could stay awake and keep watch. I'll even go first."

"If you think that's best," I said, giving Dean a wink.

Sam buckled down in front of his computer, still sipping on his soda. I walked over to the bed closest to me and put Dean's duffle bag on the floor. I crawled under the covers, and relaxed into the pillows. Dean dropped onto the opposite bed from me, face up and fully dressed, and shot me a glance. I smiled at him before rolling over so my back was to him. I closed my eyes and within seconds sleep overtook me.