Dean couldn't stand the sight of me. A few days later Sam took us on a hunt after Annie and the house of ghosts. I went hot headed and angry into a trap, I was scratched badly across my eye. It's still healing but the scar goes just above my eyebrow to my jaw bone. Dean looked pained looking at me hurt but maybe that's just because we was looking at me. He sent Sam to check in on me occasionally but Sam just gave me sad looks. I told him I could take care of myself, he put his hands up in defeat and left me to wallow in the dark.
One morning I followed them, Sam left the motel in the impala and I watched Dean from the window. I picked the lock when I saw him retreat into the bathroom. I looked through their research that was sprawled out on the table. I sat on the wooden chair next to the window, closing the blinds on the way down. My legs spread the way my father used to when he was assertive. My pack of cigarettes in my jeans and the lighter tucked into my combat boots. When Dean got out I flicked my lighter cap and lit one. The warm orange illuminating my face for him.
"What are you doing here?" He said roughly. He walks over to one of the twin beds and grabs a black tee, putting it on. "When did you start smoking?" You blow smoke towards him and take another long drag putting your elbows on your knees. "Again? About a week ago. I'm here for our official break-up, Dean." He sighs and sits on the bed still covered by the towel.
"Fine. Did you want me to say it?" He sits on the bed putting on his pajama pants. "Dean, I get that I came into your life and our relationship with false intentions but last week... Last week, I came to you. I was having a panic attack and you slammed the door in my face." He walks over to me and grabs my cigarette. Throws it on the floor and puts it out with his slipper. "Get out." I chuckled and nodded. Sliding out of the chair and making my way to the door.
"Y/N I have a job an hour away from you, are you up for it?" Garth was chipper this morning and you didn't care to ask why. "Yep, I'll get dressed and be on my way. Can you email me the deets?" You turned on the shower and started to kick off your shorts. "No problemo, pal." You soon received a ding on your phone that you placed on the counter.
Heading into the small town, it seemed sweet and lively. You had on your FBI power suit. Victim's name: Tara Lodge. Slaughtered in her own home. Doors and locks seemed to have not been tampered with. You parked your SUV in the driveway and headed inside the house.
"Ma'am, this is a closed crime scene. You can't be here." You flashed your badge at the deputy. "What happened here, dep?" He shut his mouth and cleared his throat. "No signs of BE, Miss Lodge was slaughtered last night at 3 A.M. Murder weapon was an ax, found near the entrance. Her brother, Jake, found here like this at around 7. He's in the living room." You nod and make your way to see a disoriented man talking to a local officer. "Jake Lodge? Agent Sanders. I am very sorry for your loss. Can I ask you a couple questions?"
"Mr. Lodge, why did you come to your sister's apartment at 7 A.M.?" He motioned me to have a seat on the couch across from him. "Uh, yeah. I was giving her a ride to work today. Her truck wouldn't start yesterday so I promised her we'd carpool today." His hands fidgeted in his lap. "Of course, Where were you at 3 A.M. this morning?" He looked shocked. Adjusted further from me on the couch. "Are you suggesting I killed my own sister?!" You smiled warmly, "Heavens, no. We, at the bureau, need to gather all information from all angles to make sure to catch your sister's killer." He readjusted his position to the default.
"One more question, was there anything that stuck out when you arrived here? Did it smell like rotten eggs? Cold spots?" He nodded. "It did smell like rotten eggs but what does that have to do with this, with her?" You assured it was a relevant factor to a case like hers.
New Text Message:
Sam: Hey, how are you holding up? Garth says you're on a new case. Need any help?
Me: All good, Sam-I-Am.
Sam is typing…
He stopped. You sighed and put your phone back in your jeans. You got back in your SUV and headed out to get food and eat in your motel, possibly set up some devil's traps as well. Good thing Sam and Dean forced you to get your anti-possession tattoo. You got it on your rib cage, which hurt a lot more than your forearm.
"Agent Sanders, talk to me." You tried your best to not sound as tired as you were. You couldn't sleep, you haven't had good sleep in weeks. Dean kept you warm, his heart beat kept you grounded in a way that white noise couldn't. You had spent the night of the what if's and is he having the same problems as you. Maybe he sleeps on his back again. When you two were together he would sleep on his stomach. From having nightmares of waking up and seeing you on the ceiling burning. Like his mother and Jessica.
"Sanders? The FBI lady with the cool scar?" A man's voice spoke. You chuckled, "Apparently, what can I do for you?" It was the deputy reporting another victim. Jake Lodge. You decided to do some research a bit more before you headed out.
Same M.O.: not a BE, slashes across the abdomen and a slit throat, axe by the doorway. Jake and Tara have a younger sibling named Carter, she's going to meet you at the morgue. First, you had to check out the crime scene. To see if it also smelled of sulfur.
Here you are at the morgue watching an attractive 24-year-old weeping next to two of the victims. "Agent Sanders. Carter, my condolences. Is there anything you can tell me about your siblings and why somebody would do this to them?" She looked at you with despair. "They both worked at our family's warehouse. They were working on a project with Tom Anders. Something about a revolutionary advancement in the research for Curing Cancer. Tom was causing problems but I don't think he's capable of something like this. I know him." After you left you called Garth to find an address for both Tom and which warehouse site they worked.
You grabbed your extra angel blade from your arsenal in the false bottom of your trunk. Double wielding felt powerful. Messy and beautiful, if you have the skill for close combat. You stashed the blade in your under-jacket holsters.
Today was their unveiling for the project. You put devil's traps in the basement office of Tom. Sure enough, when he came in it was with a confused Carter and some dude who was probably his Demon-in-Crime. All but Carter couldn't move from the circle I spray painted on the ceiling. You had been sitting on the meeting table with invaluable knowledge littered on it. Tom Had a knife to Carter's throat within a second. You laughed and took your intimidation stance you used on Dean. Cheryl in one hand and your cigarette in the other. You took a drag as Tom looked nervous at his threat. "We heard about you. You don't seem as tough as you look. If you try anything I'll slit her throat!"
You hopped off the table and flicked the cigarette on the research. "That's what you're going with? Really?" He looked to his partner who just looked at me in confusion. You pointed Cheryl at him. This won't do any good to him. He's a demon, he can't be trusted. Make the right choice. Then moved a little to the left and pulled the trigger. The bullet was sent between Carter's eyes. She was sent down to the floor. "Gosh, I really hate ultimatums." You chuckled and tucked Cheryl in your jeans waistband. You reached in your holsters and brought out the blades. Behind you was the heat of the fire burning away at all their research. "You boys are about to see something real special." You grinned as they shared doomed looks.
Sent Text Message:
Me: All taken care of, boss.
Garth: Did Carter make it?
She would've died anyway. You did the right thing by making her death quick.
Me: Unfortunately, one of the demons got to her. I destroyed the research. That can't be in the wrong hands.
Garth: I have something for you…
Garth is typing…
Garth: Sam and Dean need your help with defeating Dick Roman. You in?
You didn't know, but that could wait until after you visited Castiel at the hospital.
You were concerned, or half-concerned with your recent hunt. Killing the demons felt like the relief you needed. No, you always feel better ridding the world of monsters. That was nothing new.
"Hey, heard about Tommy. Bit overkill don't ya think?" Meg escorted you to his room in her nurse get up. "Overkill? It was a regular hunt. That's all." She giggled and left Cas and me in his room.
"Y/N, I'm glad you're here. We can finish our talk." Castiel sat up in his bed and greeted me with a nervous smile. "Let's skip the sugar coating, I've waited too long for this." It sounded harsher than you intended. Castiel nodded and patted his bed. You obliged and sat down giving him your full attention. "When I explained your father and mother made a demon deal, I didn't tell you the whole story." You straightened your posture and waiting for him to explain.
"Your mother did have a problem getting pregnant, that's true. She- she was banished from her home and found solace in your father. They were on the run, and tried very hard to have a baby- to have you." You nodded. Itching for him to get to it. "Y/N, your mother was a demon."
There it is, the thing that sets you back. "Your father made a demon deal leaving out full disclosure of their situation." That didn't make sense they broke the terms before you were born why wait til you were 9 to kill them. "When it came close to their 10 years deal, they decided they didn't want to leave you alone. When you were 8 they became hunters and searched for ways to prevent their death. When you were 9 and a half, they almost got it. Until one day a little girl prayed to her Guardian Angel not knowing who he was to our kind. She told him how close they were to staying with her." It was… you.
"Me? Why would I- I don't understand." He grabbed your shoulder which you yanked back from his grip. "Your mother being a demon, you being a Cambion, she didn't want you to know of the religion. Why Lucifer was a bad Guardian Angel. Why she convinced you normal people do not pray to their Guardian Angel." You started crying. You tried to start but Castiel's face became blurred from your tears. "I killed them?" Castiel looked away and nodded.
You killed your parents. You killed them because you hoped that Guardian Angels were real. You knew weird things happened to you since your teens, but you figured it was all a coincidence. Not that you were a product of a tortured soul from hell.
Your fault. Your fault. YOUR FAULT. YOUR FAULT! Who kills their own kin?! A monster. You hunt your own kind and you didn't even know about it. What kind of sick soul would do that? You deserve to die by the hands of Dean. He was right to hate you.
New Text Message:
Dean: We need you.
Y/N is typing…
Me: I'll go.
You don't deserve to die, you didn't do anything wrong. All your life you've lived by good morals. You're a cambion with a human soul and human morals. You're going to meet the boys at the cabin and you're going to defeat Dick Roman. No one must know, it's not who you are. It has never defined you.