Jo raised the bat above her head. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go! Boy meets girl, girl meets boy, the inevitable happens before girl finds out boy is a demon.
It's official, Jo. Your taste in men is messed up!
"Stay where you are and don't move!"
AJ, the demon, whatever, raised an eyebrow. "You'll only end up hurting this body." He said. "And I don't think you'll do that."
"Oh, and you know me so well." She sneered.
"I've seen more of you than you would care to realise. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well."
"Okay, eew." Jo said. "In this world of double-entendres, you gotta be careful with what you say, yeah?"
AJ cocked his head to the side. "There we go. You come across as this hard little party girl who no one can rattle, but you fall to pieces as soon as someone shows you the slightest bit of affection." And the words stung so much more because they were true.
"Alright, hey, I get it. You've been reading my diary, haven't you?"
"Not yours." The demon said.
Dad's journal.
"What is your deal?" Jo whispered.
"I'm here to infiltrate the enemy." The demon said. "Your father had some very important information the Hierarchy wanted. Unfortunately, he's been dead for some time."
"You don't say." Jo said dryly, watching as he picked up the Journal and began to slowly leaf through the pages.
"Your dad's rather long-winded. I hope he gets to the point soon." The demon replied, not in an inch upset by Jo's attitude.
"Point about what?"
"Now, Joey dear, if I told you that, I would have to kill you." He said, without a hint of irony.
"You're going to kill me anyway."
"You could have stayed all tucked up and warm in bed. Then no one needn't have died. Do you really think I'm going to tell you anything? Especially when you hunters have an awful habit of coming back to life." Judging by the glint in his eyes, Jo was almost certain he was referring to one person in particular.
"Why are you doing this?"
"The same reason you do. To stay alive." The demon said curtly.
"Who are you?"
"An enemy of She who would be Queen." And there was no mistaking the vehemence in his voice. "Have you ever heard of the adage 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'?"
Jo nodded dumbly. "You're fighting Lilith."
He raised his eyes to hers. "I needed an edge. Your father may have just given me that edge, and for that I will spare you and your family."
"I'm touched. Really."
When AJ next looked up, his eyes were a sparkling milky white. "Should my endeavour work, I shall owe your family a great debt and you will be honoured among my kind." The demon said civilly.
"Great."
"Do you know Dean Winchester?" He asked suddenly, as if struck with a sudden thought.
Her mouth went dry. "Me? Know Dean Winchester? Hell, no." She squeaked. But even as she opened her mouth, she knew she had put her foot in it. He looked at her, those creepy eyes narrowed. She felt like she was going to faint, or throw up.
"Tell him that Belial is coming to retrieve what he stole."
And then AJ collapsed to his knees, before a dark cloud began to wrench itself from his body and he screamed. Jo watched wide-eyed as the dark, angry cloud circled above the two of them before being absorbed into the walls.
There was a cough. Jo looked down. AJ sat cross-legged on the floor, massaging his temples. "Oh, my head." He groaned softly, and Jo sank down by his side.
"Are you okay?" She touched his shoulder.
He gave her a look. "Just peachy." He said tightly.
"Well, this is awkward."
"You're telling me."
And, of course, that was about the time Bobby and her mother walked in. Ellen silently looked around at the mess and slowly raised an eyebrow. Her face was impassive. AJ and Jo glanced at each other like guilty children.
"Do I want to know what's been going on?" She asked.
"Mom-"
"Ah. I don't want to hear it."
"Listen, Ellen, we were-"
"And you can shut it to." She looked him up and down. "I'm in a bad mood already," Ellen said pleasantly. "So I strongly advise you to not. Piss. Me. Off. Clean up this mess."
Bobby gave them a sympathising look as he followed her into the staffroom.
"When I'm fifty she's still gonna be telling me to grow up and stop making a mess." Jo lamented.
"She's concerned. That's what your parents are supposed to do."
And so Jo and AJ began cleaning up the papers that the demon had been going through so eagerly. Jo scanned each page she touched, hoping for some insight into her dad's great secret, but nothing really jumped off the page. It all seemed to be the usual stuff.
"Hey, look at this." AJ was holding a letter. On that letter was the postscript to Henry. "Do you have a Henry in your family?"
"What? No." Jo took the envelope. "What the heck-?" After a moment's indecision, she opened the envelope. A single sheet of paper fell out, covered with Bill Harvelle's handwriting.
"Don't you know it's rude to read other people's mail?"
"You're awfully chipper for someone who's been possessed."
"Who said it's my first?"
Jo left it at that and turned her eyes down to the page.
Henry,
I don't know whether you've been told this yet, and I don't even know whether I should be telling you, but you have to live. For all our sakes.
Your father was always in two minds on if he was going to tell you of your true heritage or not, so for all I know you have a completely different name and life now, now that your dad took you guys off the road.
The first thing you must know is that demons are real.
In 1835, Samuel Colt made a gun for a hunter. It's said that this gun can kill anything. That man, that Sam Colt, was your ancestor.
Jo and AJ looked at each other.
There will be people, things out there trying to kill you. But if you're reading this letter, then you've managed to find the few people in this wide world that can actually help.
Legend says that Samuel Colt knew this would make his family targets, and that he divided up his notes among his closest allies. I have seen the notes, but I do not possess them anymore. I am thankful for that. They are incomplete.
To get to them, you must go to a man named John Winchester.
The final secret lies with the fourteenth.
WA Harvelle.
The boy wandered alone through the dimly lit streets, ands in the pockets of his jeans. Occasionally he would kick at a pebble and watch it bounce down the street.
Harry wanted to go home so badly.
He had no clue why it happened; all he did know was that when other teenagers were worried about pimples and who they were going to take to the prom, he was out avoiding his foster-family's house like the plague, bunking with friends and generally living rough. What should have been the time of his life had been turned into a living hell.
By himself.
He'd never actually seen it in person, which was a small mercy. No, several of his friends had.
Hence the reason he didn't have any friends anymore.
Harry couldn't remember it ever having not been there, since his father's death, whereby he was passed around the relatives like a hot potato before being finally taken into care.
He never stayed with the foster families for very long, either. Ever since his doppelganger had pushed that little boy down the stairs. So he decided that the only thing he could do was go it alone. For a long time there was no hope.
Until he met Kate and she introduced him around that whole new underground culture. And maybe, just maybe, he could find someone willing to sort his problem out.
Though Harry still had difficulties fully accepting the supernatural.
Something grated on the cement behind him, and Harry jumped, his feet actually momentarily leaving the ground. He whipped his head around so fast that it made his neck ache.
"Hey, sweetie. Fifty for fun?"
She was what TV told you a streetwalker would be like. Tall and thin with thick, lustrous hair and pouty lips. Harry probably would have checked her out if he hadn't been so pee-your-pants frightened.
"No thanks. 'Nother time, maybe." He mumbled, getting away from her as quickly as he could. No time for distractions.
Harry was almost down at the end of the street when it happened.
"You should have taken it up." The doppelganger stepped out from under the stoop of a deserted house. "Probably the best offer you're ever gonna get."
"Leave me alone," Harry hissed. "Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of."
"But Harry, it's so much fun out here. And I like making you squirm."
"Alright, I'm here." Harry stopped walking. Turned around slowly. "What the hell do you want?"
"I want you dead."
"Come on, then." Harry said. "Come and get me. I'm open."
"Listen to all that bravado. I know you are dying inside. I made it happen." The doppelganger stepped into the light, and Harry stumbled a step back at the familiar sight of his own face. "You are a coward."
"Yeah. Yeah, I am. I'd rather be a live coward than a dead hero any day."
It dove for him. Harry bunched his fist and drove it up into the doppelganger's chin. Blood sprayed. Harry felt bizarre about the fact that he was beating up on himself. "Insignificant wretch!" It spat. "I can hardly understand why She wants you gone."
"She? Who's she?" Harry panted, rolling to the side as the doppelganger moved in the pummel him again.
"You are not even worthy to breathe Her name." The creature sneered at him.
"Oh, what a pity. I guess I can live with that." He hissed through gritted teeth.
And that was when the first shots were fired. The doppelganger dropped and was still. "Holy crap, man!" Harry shouted. "Where the hell were you two? The dude was gonna puree me, for God's sake!"
"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm sure you can still be pureed." A woman's voice came out of the darkness. The voice was hoarse and hard. "But if you don't want to, then I suggest you be a good boy and do exactly what I tell you."
"Who the hell are you? Where are Sam and Dean?"
Sally Wandell came forward. She was pale and thin, and seemed to radiate 'evil'. "Don't you worry that cute little head of yours. My friends are taking care of them."
Harry didn't like the sound of that. Not at all. "What do you want?"
"Just this." And she reached forward under his jacket.
"Hey-!"
She pulled out the Colt. Harry started forward. "You can't – That's-"
"The marvellous, magical, demon gun." She said. "And those two fools entrusted it to you. Now why would that be?"
"Well, I…"
"Let me tell you why." The woman again reached forward. Harry prayed that it was a trick of the light that made her eyes appear so black and dead. She took hold of the cord around his neck, searching for the amulet. "It was instinctive, you see. They would have not turned the weapon over to just anyone."
There was a bullet on the end of the cord. It was old and battered, and she turned it over in her fingers searching for the proof of what she knew had to be there. Harry just stood still within her grasp, petrified.
There was a number engraved into the side of the bullet.
14
"The fourteenth bullet." The demon breathed, and Harry knew without a doubt that's what this woman was. A demon. "Ha. You might have well been wearing a sign around your neck saying 'My name is Colt'."
"My name isn't Colt." Harry said. "I don't know what you're talking about." He ripped himself backwards, away from her. Slowly she raised the Colt. "Don't make me use this." She said. "It would make one hell of a mess."
"What do you want?"
"I want the fourteenth bullet." Harry's fist tightened around the pellet. "The last puzzle piece. And then our Lord Belial can finally take back his power from that upstart Lilith."
"You know, news of a apocalyptic demon war just doesn't have the same effect on me as it once did."
"Dean!" Harry breathed out in relief. "Sam. You're not dead."
"No. I'm kinda that way." Dean agreed. He turned his attention to the woman. "Hi, Sally. Long time, no see." And that was when he shot her.
"Ohmigod." Harry stepped forward. "You killed her."
"If only." Dean rolled his eyes. "That bitch is always following us. It's getting kind of creepy."
Sam bent to retrieve the Colt. "It wont be long before she's up again. We better split."
But just as he finished speaking, the black smoke began to funnel out of the body and into the night sky. Dean pressed something into Harry's hand. "That'll keep you from being possessed."
"I really need to talk to my therapist." Harry muttered.
After it was gone, the three of them stared down at the female body before Dean stepped forward and tentatively kicked at her boot.
"Gerroff." The woman growled. "Oh…" She rubbed her forehead before squinting up.
"Good morning, sunshine." Dean grinned.
She looked up at him. "Oh, God. I've died and gone to Hell."
Sam smiled.
"Nice to see you too." Sounding slightly affronted, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
"Captain Sally Wandell." The woman introduced herself to a stunned Harry. "Um, sorry about the-" She cocked her head to the side.
"Hey don't worry about it." Harry said, feeling numb. "What happened to you guys?"
"Ah, you know. The usual."
"Usual." Sam agreed. Harry just stared at them, still processing the fact that this was indeed normal for the Winchester brothers.
"I'd hate to be you guys." Harry stated. "Never really knowing when someone was gonna-"
"Sam, behind you!"
"-Pull a knife on you," Harry finished lamely.
"All of you. Get back before I slit his throat." The doppelganger hissed, a wicked-looking blade pressed firmly against Sam's jugular.
