OK, I didn't even realize that this chapter had been posted so messed up. So Sorry to anyone who read it and... well... tried to read it.
Special thanks to 95 for bringing it to my attention!
I still do not own SPN or any of the characters, that's Eric Kripke and the CW's baby. However, I do own Kylie "Kai" Dillinger.
And before anyone asks where I got the name, I went through about seven random name generators.
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I couldn't help it. I screamed, kicking away quickly while the demon kept trying to make a grab at me. I reached in to my bag, grabbing for a salt bomb to throw at it. This was new. This was terrifying. None of them had ever come after me in broad daylight. None of them had ever been dressed as a cop.
I threw the salt bomb quickly, shielding my eyes as it hit the demon square in the face. The thing howled in pain, and I scrabbled for another one. I could feel the salt get everywhere, and in the back of my mind I realized that this would be a pain in the ass for anyone to clean up later.
The demon grabbed my ankle, gripping it hard. I pulled away, and felt something painful pop in the wrong way. I screamed again, making as much noise as I could. The glass behind me broke, and I felt a second pair of hands grabbing for me. I swung up, punching the second assailant in the nose. The second person was another police officer, and I looked up to see black eyes as he split in to a smile. I spit up at his face, aiming another punch at his nose. This time there was a sickening crack as the body part broke, and demon number two howled in pain.
"HEY!" I heard a voice shout. Dean's. He shouted for Sam, and both the demons stopped to turn and face where the voices came from. I used the opportunity to bite the one closest to me on the hand while kicking out at the face of the first demon with my other foot. Both howled in pain, letting out a stream of cursing.
"KAI, GET DOWN!" Sam shouted. I complied quickly, rolling myself and my bag in to the floorboard of the car. I found a knife, unlike any I'd ever seen. It was silvery and almost a triangular shape for the blade, but short enough to be a dagger.
I grabbed it quickly, and looked up. One demon was still in front of the broken window, in a fight with Dean. The other was a short distance away facing off against Sam. Without thinking, I sat up and stabbed the closest one through where the window had been, straight through the chest. It glowed, almost, a fiery yellow that seemed to blink and fizzle, before I pulled out the knife. As I looked over at Sam, he stabbed at the other demon with a sharper blade, one that looked like a hunting knife on steroids. The demon did the glowing thing again, blinking and fizzling like an ember just barely holding on, before Sam removed the blade and the thing collapsed.
Within seconds, Dean and Sam were in the car with me, and we were leaving. I heard sirens almost three minutes later, and watched as they drove past us in the opposite direction. They were heading towards the motel.
I didn't say anything for the longest time. They asked me if I was alright, if I was hurt, but all I did was nod a little here and there. I was still in shock over what happened. After a few minutes of interrogation both of the brothers left me be to sit in the back seat, quietly freaking out over what had happened.
They were still attacking me.
They'd found me with the Winchesters, the people who said they would protect me. And they had protected me again. Protected me and saved me again.
And I had stabbed a Demon.
I had killed a demon.
And as I looked down in to my hand, I saw that I didn't bear the dagger anymore. No, now it was on the floor, bloodstained and staring at me in an almost accusatory tone. They bleed. It seemed to say. They look like humans. They talk like humans. They appear to be human.
They bleed like humans.
Eventually, it was almost noon. Dean had ditched the highway since then. Ditching the highways would add on a few more hours, not including any traffic. But eventually, we pulled over at some destitute looking wooded area without a lot of people. Another car hadn't passed us in over ten minutes.
"Alright," Dean started, putting the car in park and turning it off. "We've got to wash the blood off the side of the car and put something over the windows. Kai, are you alright?" He turned to ask me. I didn't look him in the eyes, though. I kept staring at the accusatory dagger.
I had never actually killed before.
I was starting to understand why they had been hesitant on teaching me Hunter stuff, much less letting me go out with that knowledge solo.
"One of my ankles is out of socket." I finally said. I had felt the pain the entire time, but had been steadily ignoring it.
"Which one?" Sam asked.
"Left." I answered. I knew the brothers would be nodding at each other on something.
"I'll get the ankle." I heard Dean mutter. "You grab the bags and the water."
"Sounds good." Sam replied. Both of their doors opened, and a few moments later the one to my left did as well. I flinched, still staring at the dagger.
"Alright, Kai," Dean said slowly. "I'm going to put your ankle back in place. Do you mind if I see it?"
I complied quietly, and flinched as he moved to touch the area. "Yeah, it's definitely out of socket." He said, loud enough for Sam to hear. "Alright, on the count of three, I'm going to pop it back in. You with me?" I nodded once, now sitting sideways across the back seat and looking down at my hands. They looked just as accusatory as the dagger had. "One," he started. I could feel the pause in his breath. "Two," I thought there would be another pause, but instead there was a short jab and another popping noise. I didn't make a single noise of pain this time, though. I just kept staring down at my hands.
"There we go, ankle's back in place." Dean said, sounding as falsely chipper as he could. Almost like a gruff older sibling. "Good job on taking it like a trooper. Anything else hurt?"
"Dean," I started, looking up at him. "Do demons possess people?" I knew he'd seen the dagger. It was a hard thing to miss. He'd seen me stab with it, after all.
After a few moments thought, he answered. "Yeah." He told me gruffly. "Yeah, they do."
"Did I kill a man?" I asked next.
"No." He replied forcefully. "You killed a demon. For all we know, the poor bastard he was possessing was already dead."
"But he bled like a person." I told him. "He screamed like a person and acted like a person and was a person, once."
"All demons were people, once." He replied. "They've been to hell and been tortured and twisted in to something not human anymore, and then they grab bodies of other people to walk around in."
I didn't know how to respond to that.
Instead, started to get out of the car. Dean moved to let me pass, and I noticed him reach in for the dagger in the process. I walked up to Sam, and asked him for a trash bag to tape up over the broken glass. Dean started to sweep out the debris in the car while I went to work on one window, and Sam on the other.
Was this what the Hunting life was like? You do your best to save people, they very nearly die, and in the end a different person is dead and the car is broken and you're not sure what to do but just clean out the car on the side of the road that nobody has really passed in twenty minutes.
They were right. A punk-ass kid shouldn't be left alone to handle this stuff.
"Why do demons want Kevin?" I eventually asked.
"It's a long story." Sam answered, throwing me a rag wetted with a bottle of water. I remembered what it was for. To clean off any blood.
I looked at the inside of the car first. Not really any at all, besides a little bit in the floorboards from the blade. I cleaned it off quickly and methodically, trying hard to not think about it.
Next came the outside of the door, and it honestly looked like an awful red paint that had fallen down the side. I wiped it off just as methodically, focusing away from the thought that I had caused the stain to be there, that it was my fault all of this was happening.
If I hadn't gotten out that night, none of this would be happening. If I hadn't prayed to Castiel. If I hadn't called the brothers, none of this would've happened.
If I hadn't managed all of that, I would be dead.
Once the car was as fixed up as it could be, we all piled back in quietly and started driving again. I didn't argue about a lengthy drive to Missouri, about going to be with some stranger I didn't even know. I wasn't going to question these brothers anymore.
And as I sat there, in the moving car, I kept looking down. I could still see the dagger there, in my mind, glinting at me in all its silver and red glory. It had looked so strange and foreign and almost pretty when I first saw it, but once it had been used all I saw was a beautiful tool, something to kill with absolute certainty. I hadn't ever killed a demon before, only hurt them.
Now, I wasn't certain if I even wanted to kill them, or even hurt them.
All demons were people, once. They walk like people, talk like people, act like people, and bleed like people. They possessed those poor people, people who had had families and friends and maybe children or a spouse and a life, a whole life that had ended.
All demons were people, once.
Had I just killed a demon, or slaughtered a person?
