A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry about the delay but I picked up extra hours at work, then there's school and all that fun stuff. Anyway thanks for the reviews last chapter! Hopefully I got to all of you, if not I apologize, leave me another one and I shall personally send you a thank you. Now I won't make you wait any longer. Here is the next chapter! :D

ENJOY!

Chapter Eight

The Truth is Out There

Early the next morning – just as the sun was peeking its rays in through the widows of the cabin – Sam, Dean and Bobby were busy gathering things they'd need to successfully complete the supply run. Croats would hopefully be the only threat they'd run into, but the three of them knew better than to leave camp without hunters basics, just in case. Despite wanting to join them on their escapade, Dean instructed Bobby to stay behind. He needed someone he trusted to keep an eye on things, in case demons reared their nasty faces Bobby knew how to handle them. Most of all he wanted someone to keep tabs on Merle. Daryl's idiot brother had caused enough problems, and Dean wasn't about to leave camp without someone watching that pain in the ass. If he had it his way Dean would just lock the son of a bitch in HQ's cellar so he couldn't associate himself with anyone; but unfortunately he'd have to settle with Bobby watching him.

"You think we'll need this?" Sam asked holding up Ruby's knife.

"When don't we." Dean derided sarcastically. He tore the blade from his brothers' grip and tossed it into the duffle bag.

When Rick and Daryl arrived about 20 minutes later, carrying their own weaponry, the Winchesters were finishing their packing.

"Ah. Sam you wanna give 'em the crash course in demon hunting?" Dean asked throwing a jar of salt in the bag. Sam nodded and began a brief explanation on what to do in the event of a demonic ambush. He emphasized the fact that demons can't be killed with mortal weapons. The look on the two men's faces quickly changed from utter indifference to somewhat alarmed and for a second Dean forgot they were still trying to grasp the concept of zombies and demons.

While Sam gave his lecture on demon slaying etiquette Dean took the opportunity to pull Bobby aside to give him the rundown on what needed to be taken care of while they were gone, and to once again make sure he kept Merle in eye sight.

". . . Basically, if it comes to it, let Dean and I handle it." Sam finished. "We know how to get rid of them."

When everything was ready Dean swung the nylon strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder. "You need this?" he held up the map, looking at Daryl.

"Nah. I can get us there no problem."

With a shrug, Dean tossed it back onto the table and proceeded out the screen door. He stood alone on the porch for a second looking out over the camp. Things were slowing starting to fit back into their normal mold. The aftermath of the ambush was almost completely gone. It was somewhat uplifting to see people move on from such a horrifying thing with such effortlessness. He wished he could pick up and move forward as fast as everyone else seemed to.

"We good?" Sam's question suddenly pulled Dean back to the matter at hand and away from his inner thoughts.

"Err, there's one more thing." Dean tossed his brother the duffel bag and bounded down the stairs. Rick had mentioned something about vehicles, and with the awful streak of bad luck he and Sam were having they were probably out of gas.

The Head Quarters building was equipped with a damp cave like cellar which could only be accessed through the pad locked metal doors to the structures' west side. The interior was lit only by a single bulb with a pull string hanging directly in the center of the wooden rafters. The cinderblock walls and dirt floor made the space feel like some sort of medieval dungeon than an actual celler. It did little to help with storage, the cellar was far too damp and roach ridden for necessities like food or other perishables. However the space was perfect for Bobby to reconstruct a demon safe room much like the one he'd had at his house. Every sigil a hunter could dream up was spray painted on the stone walls. No demonic creature was getting in or out unless they wanted them to. Even though for the most part the cellar was for demons, Dean liked to keep a case of fire arms and a few spare gallons of gasoline down in the 'crypt' as he liked to call it.

The rotted wooden stairs cracked and bent as Dean's weight pressed against them – creaking and whining from the pressure. Dim yellow light trickled into the dark room from the open door lighting it just enough for Dean to find what he was looking for. He gripped the first can of fuel his eye caught setting conveniently at the bottom of the steps, and returned to find his brother and Cas waiting with the others.

"Thought this might come in handy." He said handing off the can to Sam in exchange for the duffle bag. "We ready?"

"I want to come with you." Cas said before they could leave. He was dressed, armed and ready to go. "I have a bad feeling Dean."

The eldest Winchester slowly shook his head and firmly placed a hand on the fallen angels shoulder. "Cas buddy. I need you here with Bobby."

"But Dean."

"Stay here." Dean insisted as if to plea. If the fallen angel went with them Dean couldn't be sure his friend would be safe, if he was with Bobby – away from the outside- his odds of survival were much higher. That didn't mean he wasn't going to take into account what Cas had just predicted. If his heads up was legitimate and not concocted from boos or drugs, the four of them should be able to take care of the issue.

Cas' shoulders drooped and he slightly hung his head. "Be careful." He muttered.

The others started off and Dean lingered to pat the sad angel on the back. "I will be."

Cas fiddled with the strap of his gun and frowned slightly, his blue eyes staring in the direction the brothers and others had gone. The urge to run after them was hard to fight down. It was still ingrained in his mind that he was the Winchesters' protector, and the itching sense of doom he felt was driving that instinct home.

The feeling of being watched pulled his attention away from the gate and as his eyes searched the camp, he saw the older Dixon brother staring him down. Cas had to admit that Merle's cold glare and crossed arm stance was intimidating, especially with the knife hand. Cas doubted the man would survive long facing an army of angels or a horde of demons, but a Croat wouldn't stand a chance. A fallen angel probably wouldn't have much hope either.

"Cas! You out there?" Bobby's voice called from inside.

Cas kept his attention on Merle who rubbed his hand under his nose and sniffed. He turned on his heel, heading back towards the cabin he shared with his brother. Cas waited until the door had completely shut before he went inside headquarters.

"Bobby." Cas nodded at the old drunk that was bent over the map Dean had left.

Bobby sat back and squinted at the fallen angel. "You look terrible."

Cas's eyebrows knit together. "Is this a sarcasm?" He still didn't completely understand the idea, even though Dean had tried to explain it to him a hundred times.

"No, it's a literal. When's the last time you slept or had something to drink that wasn't alcohol?"

Cas looked away, trying to remember.

"You don't know, do ya?"

"I had water yesterday," Cas said quickly.

"Really? Well that's fantastic. Glad to see you're sobering up."

Cas's jaw clenched. "Is there a reason you needed me?"

"Yes there's a reason I called you in here." Bobby stood and strode over to the taller man. "I'm worried about you, boy. We all are."

Cas blinked a few times blankly. "Technically I am not a boy in any sense. Jimmy Novak was a grown man and I've been in existence long before recorded time.

Bobby blinked at Cas. A smile and a chuckle escaped him.

Cas cocked his head and frowned quizzically. "I do not understand. That was not a joke."

"It's just, well, that's the most you that you've sounded in a long time." Bobby shook his head. "But seriously, Cas. Dean can't think straight when he has to keep wonderin' if the Croats and demons have got you and you don't even seem to care. Hell, that boy who just came in with that group seems like he can protect himself better than you."

Cas looked away. He had a sudden need for a drink.

"Castiel, you listen to me." Cas jerked at Bobby using his full name. It didn't happen often. "You may be the sob story of the decade, left behind by your brothers and sisters, but we're your family now. And all of us are worried about you. Especially Dean. Next to Sam, I think you're the one he worries about the most. I don't want to see him get hurt because you keep up this act you got goin' on or because you get yourself killed. So straighten up." Bobby slapped Cas's shoulder and went back to sit heavily. "Now that's enough of the emotional crap. Go make yourself useful straightenin' the camp up."

Dismissed, Cas wandered back out to the porch and down the stairs. He wandered towards his cabin, not paying attention to the other people in camp. No one usually acknowledged him anyway. He wasn't the Winchesters or Bobby or Ellen. Unimportant. The gun on Cas's back bumped against him as he quickened his pace to his cabin. He was just nearing it when a voice called out.

"Hey! Wait!" Cas turned and saw the boy, Carl, jogging up to him. "Hey, do you know what time my dad will be back? Judith is cranky and I forgot her favorite toy in the car. We were going to get it later but things came up."

"I'm sorry. I don't know." Cas nodded with a half smile and turned back to his cabin.

"This where you live?"

"Yes."

"All by yourself."

Cas looked back over his shoulder. "Yes."

Carl nodded. "That must be nice I guess. You get your alone time. I have to share with my dad, Judith, and Beth. Back at the prison I had to share a room, too."

"You were in prison?" Cas attempted to do the math in his head. The boy did not look old enough.

"Sort of. We lived there for a while until the Walkers over took us." Carl shifted the sheriff's hat on his head.

Cas nodded. "I'm sorry about the state the world is in."

"It's not your fault," Carl half laughed.

"How's your arm?" Cas asked suddenly.

"It's great actually. Just a little sore." Carl pulled up his sleeve and revealed the lightly blood stained bandage. "Didn't hurt much at all." He cracked a smile. "Always kinda wanted a tattoo."

"Good." Cas smiled slightly and turned again to go inside.

"Hey, uh, Cas, if you want, you can join Beth, Judith, and me for dinner. If the others aren't back yet."

Cas paused with his hand on the door-handle. "I would like that, actually."

"Awesome. We'll see you at our cabin in a couple hours then. Don't forget!" Carl turned with a wave and jogged back towards the other side of the camp and his own cabin.

As the group trekked farther and farther into the wilderness, not a word was spoken. It wasn't like there was that much to talk discuss anyway, Dean figured Rick and Daryl's silence stemmed from the fact they were having trouble trusting he and Sam. Whatever the reason, the lack of casual conversation was probably for the best – the slightest whisper could give away their position and make them venerable. Although, Daryl seemed to be the only one capable to navigate the leaf cluttered ground without making a sound. Everyone else walked with leaves crunching and twigs snapping under their feet. The redneck lead the caravan of four, using nature to help guide him as if he was a native hunter. He hadn't stopped since they started, never falling or tripping on roots, so when he suddenly came to a halt, Dean immediately griped his shot gun more firmly.

Fluidly Daryl crouched and removed the crossbow from his back. With a finger drawn to his lips he indicated for the other three men to stay quite. They mimicked Daryl's stance despite them not knowing what was going on.

"Walkers." He pointed into the distance as if he'd read Deans mind. "Two of 'em."

The two monsters were difficult to make out from a distance, their brown decaying skin and mangled clothing blending in with the surrounding landscape. Dean had to squint to make them out – they had to have been at least 50 yards away.

"Good eye." Dean was impressed.

"Mhmm." The Redneck stalked closer strategically placing his feet away from any potential noisy leaves or sticks that could give away their position. As far as Dean could tell the two Croats had no idea of their existence. The two grotesque forms continued to aimlessly roam the forest oblivious to the human flesh watching them.

"How do you wanna do this?" Dean asked lowering his voice and cocked his gun.

Daryl gave him a sour glare. "Put yer gun down. Firen that thing'll give us way to any walkers nearby. This don't make that much racket." He motioned to his crossbow.

"I agree no guns." Rick spoke up. He looked at Daryl. "What are you thinkin?"

Daryl adjusted the string on his weapon. "I can get em from here. . ." his voice trailed off seeming to get distracted by the trees just over his head. ". . . Better yet."

He slipped his crossbow around his torso and like a monkey, jumped into one of the nearby trees.

"What's he doing?" Sam asked looking to Dean who replied with a shrug. Rick seemed less concerned and just watched.

"Hey, uh, Tarzan. What the hell are you doing?"

Daryl was halfway up the tree and stretched out across a sturdy branch before he responded. "Better view. Now hush!"

Dean scowled, but did as he was told. He didn't like taking orders from other people, especially stubborn southern rednecks. He listened and watched as the quick click and hum from the tree tops above brought down the first of the two Croats ahead of them. Much like the accuracy with which he navigated the woods, he managed to strike the beast dead in the eye socket, and Dean found his respect for Daryl grow ever more present.

Nestled among the dying foliage Daryl carefully shifted as he secured another bolt into place and situated himself to make another kill. From the ground Dean watched as the arrow went soaring through the trees and stuck itself into the remaining creatures' skull.

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Dean asked as Daryl scaled back down to the ground with the cross bow on his back. He jumped from a good five feet and dusted off his pants when he spoke.

"Huntin'" He looked at Sam and Dean. "Wild animals." He clarified.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that goes without saying."

Daryl reloaded his crossbow with one the last arrows still secured to the front of the weapon and then slung it around his torso again. "Why do you an yer brother do it anyhow?" he asked leading them down the steep slope to where the walkers had been.

Despite the incline, it was a relatively easy hill to maneuver down if one found the right footing. Dean and the others followed after Daryl as best they could, he moved so fluidly on the uneven rocks and pitched ground it was as if he simply floated down the small hill.

"I understand why I hunt. Puts food on the table. But demons an monsters? Shit, that seems like a god damned death wish to me." Daryl finished his statement as he waited for the others to catch up with him.

"It's kinda a long story." Sam explained hesitantly as Daryl went to remove his arrows from his kill. He wiped the sickly residue on his shirt and fastened them back onto the front of his crossbow. "It ain't like we don't got the time." He chided bitterly.

Dean pursed his lips and glared at Daryl. Rick must have felt the tension boiling inside the oldest Winchester because he stepped between the two of them, breaking eye contact. "Now's not the time." He told the suborn redneck.

"You tellin me you don't wanna know?"

"I'm tellin you not right now." The sheriff looked at Sam and Dean. "I'm sure you'll tell us when the time is right."

It wasn't like they had much choice. If Dean and Sam wanted to keep everyone safe with new threats looming over them, they were eventually going to have to tell them everything. Dean wasn't too keen on spilling his entire life story to people he'd only just met but he had a feeling Daryl wouldn't be happy until he did so.

"Sheriffs right." Dean feigned a small friendly grin, weather it fooled the redneck or not he didn't care. "Now's just not the time, we've got a task that needs to be done."

Surprisingly, Daryl's scowl faded and he wordlessly went back to leading the way- dancing in and out of the brush with ease. As the four of them continued to hike is silence, Dean tried his best to enjoy the serenity the picturesque orange and gold landscape created. Sam and Cas on multiple occasions noted the tranquility they found while among the trees, Dean however was having some difficulty focusing on just the calming foliage. Force of habit kept an eyes constantly on the lookout for something that wanted to cause him or his brother harm. Cas said something bad was going to happen, and for the first time in a long while Dean was getting the feeling that it wasn't just the drugs or alcohol talking. He wanted to believe that the fallen angels warning was about the two Croats from earlier, but deep within the concave vortex of his soul he knew that wasn't the case. Soon his friends warning was all the could think about- not the tranquil landscape or the warmth of the sun beating against his skin- but the idea that something was going to happen. He just hoped for the life of him it was something the four of them could handle.

"There's the cabin." Dean suddenly heard Rick say.

Just above the inclined terrain the top of the old hunting cabin came into view, meaning they were over half way to their goal destination.

"Yeah. Best make it to the road from 'ere." Daryl suggested. "the land'll be easier to navigate, direction too." Before they reached to top of the hill the redneck turned his footing south- the direction of the road. They walked for only a short time before the main thoroughfare came into view. He'd spent so much time captive inside his own walls; Dean had forgotten how eerie a sight the vacated streets were. He and Sam had driven down countless numbers of deserted back roads or county ways but all the roads were that way now – vacant, overgrown, broken. It was one of the things brought on by the apocalypse that one wouldn't realize was so haunting until it was witnessed. The empty roads and abandoned cars sent a spine tingling chill through Dean.

The group of four men wondered down the road a good few miles, only having to take out around a dozen Croats over the length of their journey alongside the abandoned pavement. Soon Daryl had them back in the woods heading north.

"Should be just up 'ere." He said a while later. "The trees are thinin." The redneck ran ahead a few hundred feet and stopped just short of the break in the tree line. Almost immediately Dean sensed the alarm in Daryl's body language. He picked up his pace neglecting to keep his steps silent. The sound of crunching leaves and twigs behind him indicated Rick and Sam's quickened pace in order to keep up.

"Jesus. . ." Dean's bottom lip dropped slightly as he took in the sight that had stopped Daryl in his tracks. Dozens of dead Croats littered the ground surrounding the Hyundai and motor bike. From the wretched stench poisoning the air, the massacre had happened not long before they got there. Most of them were missing their heads – a few of which were still snarling absentmindedly, unable to move.

"Who the hell did this?" the eldest Winchester added, as they carefully stepped around the putrid corpses. A single head, growling and biting the air Daryl stepped on as he surveyed the area.

"I think I know." Rick was standing a few feet away, holding a blood stained samurai style sword.

"Dead Pool?" Dean chided sarcastically referencing the comic book character.

"Michonne. . ." Daryl corrected, realizing the swords significance before Sam or Dean.

"Who's Michonne?" Dean pried sounding irritated.

Rick and Daryl were both enthralled with the weapon, turning it over and over examining it. "She was with us." The sheriff finally explained. "This was hers. We lost her a while back, or at least lost track of her."

Immediately Daryl began flipping over the bodies one after another. "Wanna give me a hand Pretty Boy? Need to make sure one of these ain't her."

Dean hesitated. He didn't know what the sword wielding mystery woman looked like but he helped anyway all the while keeping an ear turned to his brothers direction to hear what he and Rick were musing over.

"If she's not here, and without her primary weapon, there's a good chance she's turned already." Sam told the sheriff solemnly.

Rick however didn't sound quite as convinced. "Even if she had gotten bit, it wouldn't have been like her to just turn. She would've taken herself out before it got her."

Dean fell into place beside his brother. "None of the bodies were her. Daryl's looking to see if he can find any foot prints leading away."

The crisp October air fell silent a moment as they watched Daryl work his magic utilizing his tracking skills. Over head the sun was already on its way to setting which meant that their daylight was slowly beginning to dwindle. If they wanted to keep things moving and get back before dark, standing around would get them nowhere.

"Tell ya what." Dean suggested feeling anxious. "Sammy and I will fill up the cars while you help Mountain Man over there look for prints."

He needed to talk to Sam alone. Even if the other two were in on the 'truth is out there' crap, Dean felt better discussing it with his brother without an extra set of ears hovering close by. The sheriff took the hint, and strode over to where Daryl was studying the ground.

"So what are you thinking Sherlock?" Dean asked taking the oil can from his brother to fill up the Hyundai. He'd poured half the gallon into the SUVs fuel tank before Sam spoke. "I don't know. I think it's a little weird she left her weapon behind and got away without getting bit."

"Maybe she freaked and ran." Dean shrugged.

Sam shook his head. "Not with the way Rick was talking about her. He made her sound. . ."

"Bad ass?"

"Yeah."

Dean smiled. "Chick with a Samurai sword. Hell yes she's a bad ass."

The youngest Winchester gave his brother a glare to indicate joking wasn't the best thing to be doing at the moment. Dean cleared his throat and threw back on his serious face as he moved to put gas in the motorcycle. "So you got any other theories?"

"Demonic possession." Sam sounded as if he didn't wanna mention it, like doing so made it true.

"Hey, let's not jump to dramatic conclusions so fast." Dean whispered stealing a glance in Rick and Daryl's direction. It wasn't like the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but saying but saying it out loud made it sound so much worse. "I'm sure there's something less 'up our ally' to explain what's going on here."

Like poison, Cas' warning seeped into his conscious mind and his anxiety worsened.

"I'm not so sure Dean. . ." Sam retorted.

Dean finished topping off the motor bike with gasoline not uttering anything more. He didn't want to dwell on his brothers thought but was finding it difficult to focus on anything else. It wasn't like he and Sam couldn't handle demonic possession, it was Rick and Daryl that made the eldest Winchester slightly edgy. If Michonne was possessed, it would be harder to deal with correctly.

"Daryl found some human tracks leading towards the road." Rick said suddenly coming up behind the two brothers. "He's pretty sure they belong to her."

Sam and Dean simultaneously looked around but found no sight of the redneck.

"Where'd he go?" Dean asked.

"He's following them on foot, wants us to follow." Rick paused and glanced at the two vehicles then back to Dean. "You know how to ride a bike?"

"Yeah."

Sam's brows furrowed and he glanced quizzically at his brother. "When did you ever learn how to ride a motorcycle?"

"Senior year. Borrowed the history teachers during lunch." He smiled. "Sweet ride."

"No time to reminisce." Rick tossed the cycle's keys to Dean. "You gonna lead the way or me?"

Dean did his best to hide the slight bit of excitement coursing through him knowing the circumstances wouldn't allow it. He handed the empty gas can to his brother and startled the steel horse fighting a grin.

"You pave the road Chief." He insisted kick starting the engine with a thunderous roar.

A slightly less obnoxious sound came from the Hyundai when Rick turned the ignition and with Sam in the passenger seat made for the road. The pale green SUV wasn't the best vehicle for off road driving, but if by some miracle they'd managed to get it hidden in the woods, then surely they could get it out again. The view behind the large car was limited, leaving Dean to do a lot of guessing. There was a lot of starting and stopping, which he figured was due to Rick trying to navigate his way around the trees. Lucking for him, the motorcycle fit easily through or around the foliage.

Michonnes trail veered towards the road, the opposite direction of camp and Dean tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in his gut. Now that they had vehicles it wouldn't be a long trek back to camp, however they didn't have much fuel at their disposal and it was getting darker. Night time always seemed to make things worse when he and Sam were trying to save people like they were in some sort of horror movie.

Daryl was standing at the edge of the road when they reached the break in the trees. Rick quickly pulled the Hyundai onto the pavement and parked just short of where the redneck stood. A mix of curiosity and apprehension couldn't keep Dean from eaves dropping on their conversation when the sheriff got out to speak with Daryl.

". . .The way the tracks was goin she went off that way." Daryl pointed farther east.

"We can't leave her out here unprotected." Rick told him.

"Well we can't very well stay out here looking for her." Dean butted in as he approached.

Daryl shot him a sour look and Rick paced back and forth thinking as the early evening shadows danced across his dirty shirt. The commotion eventually lured Sam out of the passenger seat and to the empty spot next to his brother.

"Why don't you and Sam take the supplies back. Daryl and I will keep looking for her, we'll stay in the cabin overnight and be back in the morning." Rick suggested.

"No." Dean put his foot down. "There's no way I'm leaving you two out here with Croats and demons running around."

Like clockwork, Daryl's expression turned into a heavy glower. "It ain't like we haven't been out here before with 'em."

"But that was before you met us." Sam pointed out. "We've got targets on our foreheads, now you do too."

Daryl's scowl shifted into more of a frown; however the same fierce determination stayed on his brow. "Don't matter. I ain't leavin one of us out there."

Rick nodded in agreement.

A painfully long and silent lull consumed with heated frustration from both sides radiated around them. Rick and Daryl were adamant about finding this woman – Dean understood that, but he was adamant about getting everyone home in one piece before Cas' prophecy had time to manifest.

"Fine." Dean hissed out of frustration. "We get in the cars, go until dusk. The second it's too hard to see without headlights we high tail it back to camp with or without Michonne. We'll come out again tomorrow if we have to. I refuse to leave either of you out here by themselves."

Surprisingly the redneck backed down hearing Dean's strict ultimatum. He was going against his better judgment, but Rick and Daryl made it very clear they weren't giving up without a fight.

"I can work with that." Rick noted, glancing Daryl's way as if to make sure the redneck went along with the idea. "We'd greatly appreciate it."

"Yeah well I know what it's like to lose someone and want them back." Dean nonchalantly brushed it off like it was no big deal, while Sam gave his brother a long meaningful glance. Rick, along with Sam got back in the Hyundai and Dean got a strong sensation that he wasn't going to get back on the motorcycle just from the look Daryl was giving him.

"Eh, I'm more of a muscle car guy anyway." He said coolly tossing the bike keys back to Daryl. Masking the small amount of disappointment on his face Dean reluctantly got into the back of the SUV- drivers side.

Rick started the engine and rolled down the window to instruct Daryl to take the lead. ". . .Drive slow." He added as the man on the bike passed. "keep a look out for her."

Still not thrilled with the search party idea, Dean slouched in the seat, arms folded, staring into the woods just outside the window. "What's this girl even look like?" he quarried. It was the second time he'd been instructed to look for the woman without knowing any details.

"Dark skin, sturdy build. Her hair is pulled into dread locks. She'd be a hard one to miss."

"Awesome." He sighed dully looking back out the vehicles window.

The atmosphere within the pale green SUV was stiff and uncomfortable. For the first time since meeting him, Dean envied Daryl- who was free of the tension and on his own vehicle. Part of the discomfort divulged from the silence mixed with claustrophobic tunnel of woods on both sides- at least the sky was still visible; otherwise he feared he'd suffocate.

With Daryl at the lead, once again they'd fallen into their previous pattern. It made sense having the redneck at the front, after all he was their walking GPS. Dean had been in a leader position for so long it felt odd to be taking orders again – since John had died.

He quickly found something other than his father dealing his soul away to think about. For one, the longer the group of them drove away from camp, the more Dean regretted his ultimatum. The longer they drove the darker it got and the less fuel they would have when they finally went back. On top of that, he'd spent the entire day out of camp, and even though he knew Bobby and Ellen could hold down the fort, he didn't like the idea of being gone so long. Then there was Cas' warning that was eating away at the inside of Dean's skull. Nothing tremendously exciting or dangerous had occurred yet which meant their car ride was about to get very interesting or the entire thing was just another useless detail. Unless of course something traumatic was happening back at camp.

Dean rapidly shook that thought out of his head. "It's time to head back."

"You said until we need to use headlights." Rick reminded him.

Dean clenched his jaw. "That wasn't a polite suggestion. That was an—"

Before he could finish scolding the sheriff, Rick slammed on the breaks to avoid crashing into Daryl. The velocity almost sent Dean flying without his belt, but he managed to keep himself mostly seated.

It was obvious what had caused the near collision; standing in the middle of the vacant street was the dark skinned woman with dread locks.

"I'll be damned." Dean was beginning to think she didn't actually exist.

At the same time Rick and Daryl jumped from their transport and ran to her. As he watched, Dean felt his stomach churn sickly within his gut. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the cuts and scrapes on her body. It was her lack of movement or any form of inclination of recognition as the two men she knew ran towards her that shot up a red flag. From how suddenly Sam got out of his seat and bolted to stop the others Dean knew he'd sensed it too. With the duffel bag at the ready he got out shouting for them to stop.

"What's yer problem?!" Daryl huffed, tearing his arm out of Sam's grip.

"She's not your friend." He told the redneck. "Not really."

"Ouch Sam." Demon Michonne said in a familiar yet slightly darker snarky tone. "That really hurts."

Sam scowled. "Meg."

"Long time no see eh?" she winked

"What the hell is going on?" Rick and Daryl looked more than just confused; Michonne shouldn't have known who the Winchesters where.

"Michonne is being used as a meat suit for a demon, a demon that happens to be a reoccurring pain in our asses." Dean spat.

Daryl yanked his crossbow into fire position and took a few steps closer. "You let her go!" he snarled.

Meg laughed. "Didn't they tell you? Your little crossbow can't kill me, it will however kill your friend. I'll just feel a tickle."

He hesitantly lowered the weapon ever so slightly, stepped back and glowered at the creature.

"Besides." Meg continued. "As long as I'm in this body, Deano over there won't jab that magical pick stick of his into my chest."

Dean fumed. He was going to have to think of something quick in order to keep Meg around and Michonne alive. Demons were notorious for killing their meat suits simply for the thrill or out of spite. Plus she kept eyeing Rick and Daryl fiendishly, which made Dean even more uneasy.

"Why don't you go find a new lifeless husk to poison and give us back Michonne?" For Rick and Daryl's sake he thought he'd ask – not beg, but ask- before he pulled some kind of dramatic stunt.

Meg paced back and forth eyeing the redneck and the sheriff ignoring Dean's demand. They too watched her, standing just a few feet behind the Winchesters never letting go of their own weapons. The sinister smile never once left her face.

"Don't even think about it. They're protected." Sam warned seeing the mischievous gleam in her black eyes.

"I can sense it." She sighed sounding annoyed. "Is that your handy artistry?"

Sam's eyes shifted to his brother standing beside him almost shamefully.

"So Deano's the artistic one. . ." she paused and cocked a brow, wrinkling the dark skin on Michonnes forehead. "Bethcha slicing and dicing human meat was fun."

Dean's nostrils flared and his fists clenched. There wasn't a fiber in him that wasn't burning to drive Ruby's knife into Meg's chest- to the hilt. And yet he knew she was an asset. She had explanations to questions he needed answers to. There was a larger part of the whole apocalypse he wasn't seeing; more than death and Croats or viruses. Lucifer was roaming the earth somewhere in a dying vessel and he needed to milk whatever he could from a demon, and Meg had just fallen into their hands.

"He did what he felt was right." Rick defended. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"The other monkey speaks." Meg chided unamused with his sentiment. She looked back at Daryl and smirked but said nothing.

The redneck and the sheriff were staying abnormally calm given the situation of finding out someone close to them was being possessed by a demon. Friend or not it was usually quite upsetting to those not accustomed to such things. Michonne was one of their group, finding her as a meat suit could not be easy news to swallow.

Time ticked by, bringing with it the heavy blackness of night. Their time was way past up and Dean didn't have a choice. He couldn't kill the girl, and he had a number of questions he wanted answered. What he was about to do would surely cause an up roar from Rick and Daryl, but it would hopefully save Michonne as well as get him his answers. He gave Sam a look, one that somehow translated to his younger counterpart what he was about to do. The taller brother positioned himself to keep Rick and Daryl at bay when Dean did what he had to do. In a flash the took his pistol and clipped the woman's shoulder.

All at once Rick and Daryl began yelling as Meg in Michonnes body fell back onto the asfult. Dean however ignored the profanities and the threats coming from the two men Sam was fighting to keep calm. Meg remained on the ground laughing as Dean stood over her. "Won't be so funny when you realize you can't smoke out of there now."

Her laughing faded and slowly her dark face morphed into a heavy glare.

"Devils traps in graved on bullets means yours stuck in there. . ."

A few feet behind were he stood, Sam got the others to listen to what Dean had to say. "No smoking out. . ." he knelt down and threw on his infamous smug smirk. "Makes you my little bitch."

For the first time the demon had no snarky or sarcastic comeback. She was fuming – Dean could tell- But the anger was only a thin veil separating her anger from fear. She'd finally gotten herself stuck.

"Rick you got hand cuffs?" Dean asked not breaking eye contact with Meg. He waited for the officers approaching steps before holding out his hand for the metal restraints. With her demon powers taken from her she didn't even fight when he yanked her arms toghether to detain them.

"What are you planning to do with her?" Rick asked as Dean loaded her into the middle back seat.

Sam and the others huddled around the outside of the Hyundai, intently watching Dean and Meg.

"We'll take her back. Interrogate the demon, excersise it and hopefully get you back the real Michonne." Sam told him.

"Is that safe?" Daryl probed. "Bringin' an demon into camp?"

"We're more than equipped to handle this bitch." Dean huffed returning to stand with the group; and slowly a smile brushed across his lips. "Gentlemen I get the pleasure of showing you The Crypt."

A/N: Michonne as Megs meat suit! and of course now we know that Bobby built another safe room cuz he's awesome like that! *I'd also like to thank my cousin MyDarkAngel710 for writing the part with Cas, Bobby and Carl. It ended up fitting really well with what I have planned in the coming chapters.*

*Also SPN and TWD have now returned! What do you guys think? Dean is lying to Sam again, which we know usually never ends well. And poor Cas is being hunted by angels. And don't even get me stated on the Walking Dead. When I briefly got a chance to talk to Daryl Dixon himself (Norman Reedus) at Comic Con a few weeks ago he said Season 4 was going to be intense! Boy two episodes in and he wasn't lying! And for those of you even slightly curious, I went to Comic Con cosplaying Cas and met Norman Reedus. It was fantastic.

Anyway please leave me a review! :D