Crowley wasn't happy at the prospect of being left in the basement, but as we ascended the stairs to the sound of his curses and threats, I found myself caring for his plight less and less. With the door to the basement closed we were afforded some peace. It didn't help us to resolve the task at hand, however, and I knew that I wasn't going to come out of this in one piece.

"Maybe there's a cure," I suggested half-heartedly.

"This would not be the sort of thing you could cure," Castiel shook his head in a solemn manner, "A cure implies you are diseased, and you are not. The things inside of you are a part of who you are, the only way to permanently remove any of them would be death."

"Yeah, I was afraid you would say something like that," I dropped onto the couch and leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands. Regardless of all the other blood in my veins, there was a part of me that had started out as human, there had to be. It might have been diluted and sullied after years of manipulative breeding but I could feel it deep down. I just couldn't be a monster, I couldn't become one of the things I hunted. Although, I did feel like something of a hypocrite for killing off other creatures. It was as Castiel said, none of us could help the life we were born to, or the species.

How were they any different from me?

"Don't make that expression," Bobby settled behind his desk, "It ain't gonna' help none."

"Sorry, but I'm at a loss as to what, if anything, will help," I retorted, "As far as I can see I can either die or be a slave to Crowley."

"Or you can run," Dean said, "O'course, that can't go on forever either."

"Thanks, that's not actually helping," I said.

Sam came to sit beside me and dropped one of his long arms around my shoulders. Gently he tugged me in against his side and gave me a consoling squeeze. They were acting like they'd just discovered I had a terminal illness. Well, that wasn't far off from the truth. This could be incredibly terminal if anyone else found out about it. Other hunters weren't so understanding. Things had to be black and white, there weren't any shades of grey. Probably because that kind of consideration was a commodity few hunters could afford. A monster could convince someone they weren't what they appeared, that they could go against their nature, and then turn on the innocent as soon as they were out of the line of fire. That's how they were going to see me. I was different from the others because I was a hybrid, but I was still capable of incredible evil.

"Maybe it'd be better if I –"

"If you say leave I'll lock you in that panic room until you're forty," Bobby warned, "We're gonna' figure this out, without any more self sacrifice. I see that enough from those two idjits," he looked more pointedly at Dean who tried to laugh and shrug it off as if he had no idea what Bobby was talking about.

"I think it'd be better we sleep on this," Sam was the voice of reason yet again. He ruffled my hair at the back of my head, "You should take the spare room upstairs, we'll sleep down here."

"Wait, there's a spare room? What the hell have I been sleeping on the floor for?" Dean asked.

"No use complainin' now," Bobby said, "Go on Evelyn, we'll deal with everything. You should sleep."

"What about all the bodies outside? You can't dig enough graves on your own, it'll take you hours."

"I dealt with that while you were in the shower," Castiel told me, "I can move quickly when the occasion calls."

"It's true," Dean nodded.

"I – I don't even – no, I'm not going to think too deeply about that," I decided and, with Sam's help, managed to vacate the beaten up sofa, "No one sneak into my room, got that?"

"Why did you look at me when you said that?" Dean asked.

"You know why she did," Bobby told him, "I'll sit outside that room with a shotgun if I have to, keep that in mind."

"Hey, I would at least buy her a drink first!"

I didn't think I wanted to be present for the rest of the argument. I'd only been joking, but I supposed my dead-pan tone made it sound rather more serious a statement than I'd intended. With the aid of the banister I dragged my sorry carcass upstairs and into the spare room the boys had mentioned. My bag was already thrown onto the bed, one of them must had moved it earlier on for me. I shoved it onto the floor and collapsed, face down, atop the covers. Getting changed was just too much effort, I would deal with clothes and other complicated things in the morning. Right now all I wanted to do was shut out the rest of the world, and forget for a few hours that my life was pretty much over.

Home had never really been a thing I'd known as a child. I lived wherever my parents could afford to stay. Sometimes that was a motel, sometimes it was the back seat of their car. Other times it was on a friend's sofa. But I remembered the time we stopped off for a few weeks in a cheap motel outside of Oregon. I can't recall the job that had drawn them to that place, I don't even know how often they went out and left me alone. What I did remember was being six years old and pretending not to listen while my parents argued outside of the room they'd paid for until the end of the month.

My mother was hysterical. While she tried to keep her voice down, it raised gradually as my father pushed her to become increasingly emotional and angry. I wasn't under any illusion that their marriage had been perfect. Love was a strong emotion, but it didn't cancel out all the wrongs they committed against each other, intentional or not. I was too young to understand exactly what they were fighting about. But I heard my name.

What had I done wrong?

The door opened and I jumped a mile before I hurried off to hide behind the bed.

"Evie?" my mother came to me and scooped me up into her arms, "Did we scare you?"

She'd been crying. Again.

I shook my head, I didn't want to cause any more trouble than I might have already. I reached up and brushed my hand against her cheek, wiping the tears away clumsily. She took my fingers in her elegant digits and kissed them tenderly. My mother was like some kind of a Princess in my eyes, some angel who could never do any wrong.

Or so I thought until that day.

Now I remembered.

"Evelyn, are you awake?" my mother's voice found me in the middle of the night. Dad was gone, probably out on the hunt. He wouldn't be back for a few days. She kissed my forehead and tickled my cheek with her fingers until I was roused from my sleep.

"Mummy?" I asked softly and tried to make her out in the darkness, "What's wrong?"

"Shh," she eased me out of the bed carefully, "We're going to take a little drive."

I was so tired that as soon as she had me up in the warmth of her arms I dozed off again. I remember feeling the rock of the car as we drove to who knew where. My mother didn't say anything, or if she did I was in too deep a sleep to be woken by it. Finally we stopped, the car doors opened, and I was taken from the warmth of the passenger seat and out into the cold night air.

I opened my eyes as much as my exhaustion would allow. The stars were out, and the sky was clear of cloud cover. The unmistakable sound of water as it caressed the shore was getting ever closer. My mother was walking toward it, me in her arms, and I forced myself to a clearer level of consciousness. The first slosh sounded when she stepped into the freezing water. Her body tensed at the sensation, but it didn't deter her. She took another, and then another. Soon she was up to her waist in it, and my feet had broken the surface. The chill bit at my toes, and I curled up tighter to get away from the cold.

"Don't be scared, it's going to be okay," her voice might have been soothing, but the look in her eyes was frightening. They were as icy as the water around us, dangerous, almost devoid of humanity. Carefully, she eased me from her chest, and started to lower me toward the surface.

"Mummy?!" I gasped before I sank beneath the water. I hadn't taken a breath, I wasn't ready. Was I going to die here?! I thrashed hard as the water pressed in around me. The sound of my struggles dull and muffled against it. The more I kicked, the tighter she held on. My clothes clung to me, and I heard a ringing in my ears. It was like everything was becoming distant and faint. If she held me under any longer I would pass out from the fright and lack of air, then I would be unable to save myself.

Not that I really understood how to do that. Instinct took over and I lifted my arms, palms facing this strange woman who had taken control of my mother. I opened my mouth as my body quaked and a great power burst forth. I had –

"Evelyn!" someone was leaning over me, their hands on my shoulders. Restrictive hands that were trying to hold my body down. My eyes snapped open and in my panic I brought my hands to their chest. The person flew away from me and slammed against the wall before they dropped like a sack of potatoes to the floor. I sat bolt upright in the bed, glancing around the room fearfully before I remembered where I was.

This was Bobby Singer's house.

I was in the spare room.

I'd just blasted Sam Winchester into a wall.

I fell to the floor in my hurry to get off the bed before I hurried to Sam's side. I helped him to sit up and asked, "Are you okay? Oh my God, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to – I mean – I don't even know how I – say something!"

"Ow."

"Really, just ow?" I asked. Carefully I checked the back of his head. It wasn't bleeding. Good, I didn't want to kill him or anything. I hadn't even wanted to hurt him. That nightmare had felt so real, I must have mistaken him for the person trying to hurt me when he'd shaken me awake. I sat back and brought the back of my hand over my forehead. Cold beads of sweat clung to my hairline. Sam must have heard me from the hall. Because I spent so much time being alone, I didn't know if I was one to talk in my sleep, or to scream or thrash. With all the things I'd seen during my life as a hunter the fact that I did wasn't really a surprise. But I'd never managed to go all demon on anyone like that before, not while I was awake at least.

"Hey, what the hell just happened?" Dean asked as he burst into the room, gun in hand, no doubt anticipating some kind of a break in or sneak attack.

Sam held up a hand to his brother, "It's okay, it was just an accident."

"An accident that leaves a Sam shaped dent in the brickwork?" he asked, "Was there a demon? Did you kill it?"

Castiel dodged around Dean and helped me to my feet. When he was sure I could stand under my own power he gave Sam the same assistance. He surveyed the room and quickly surmised, "It appears Evelyn has some latent demon abilities."

"Like I said," Sam pressed, "It was an accident."

"You threw my brother against the wall?" Dean asked, "You threw this guy against the wall?"

"I don't know – I was having a dream and then next thing I know someone is over me and I freaked out, it's not like I meant to!"

"Look, Dean, it's my fault," Sam defended me, "I tried to wake her up and she didn't know it was me. For all she knew it could have been Crowley, okay?"

Dean didn't look as convinced as I'd like, but he still lowered the gun. This was going to take some getting used to, I knew that. I certainly didn't want to cause injuries to anyone else in the house. Sam was a big guy, and he was strong enough to take a hit like that with minimal injury. If it had been Bobby I might have caused some serious damage. I shuddered when I thought about it. Whatever it was lurking inside of me, I despised it. I didn't want to be a demon or anything else like that.

"Have you ever done anything like that before?" Sam asked.

I shook my head, "No, I don't even know how I did it that time."

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked, "The way you were kicking and screaming it didn't seem like it was anything good."

"I don't remember," I lied. There was no good way to tell people that my mother had, apparently, tried to kill me when I was a child and I had suppressed the memory. That had to be at least twenty years of therapy right there.

"Perhaps," Castiel began, "I should stay here for the night. I do not require sleep, and I feel confident I could counter any powers Evelyn is inclined to display while she is unconscious."

"Well, it's not like he'll make a move on her," Sam agreed and pushed Dean towards the door, "But if anything really bad happens, you call us. Got that, Cas'?"

"Understood."

"Yeah and don't throw him out of the window or anything," Dean warned me.

"I'll try, dad," I retorted. Dean nodded once and then allowed Sam to eject him from the room. I wasn't sure that I wanted to sleep anymore. If I had another dream like that, well, I didn't know that it was just dream. And I didn't know if it was the only time she'd done that to me. Had my father tried to kill me too? Other hunters? Had they both known what I was the whole time and thought they would stop Crowley finding me? Then again, why wait until I was as old as that instead of just getting rid of me as a baby?

My head hurt.

I laid back on the bed and stared hopelessly toward the ceiling. The bed sank with Castiel's added weight and he lay next to me, eyes alert and bright, fixed on the same point as mine. For a moment there was silence between us. Resolute and stoic. Then he broke it by saying, "I have never understood why humans feel the need to stare at blank surfaces when they're thinking. Surely it would be better to close their eyes."

"I guess it just helps them to block out other things without closing off their vision completely," I reasoned.

"That would be sensible for a hunter, yes," Castiel agreed, "But you are tired, and sleep would serve you better than worrying needlessly."

"Needlessly?"

"Yes. You are worried that you have to resolve this issue alone, despite knowing that there are three hunters in this house alone that are willing to help and protect you. There is also an angel, who would like to do the same."

"That's a sweet sentiment coming from a soldier of heaven."

"Sentimentality is something I am still coming to terms with."

"You're pretty good at it for a beginner," I turned my head to smile at him, "Keep practising, I'm sure you'll be a pro in no time."

"Thank you," he smiled but it was shy and kind of awkward, the kind of smile a person gives when they're not sure if they're being mocked or complimented. Castiel watched me a moment before he suggested, "You should help with the practice. As – as a payment, for the protection."

"Are you trying to flirt with me?"

"I don't understand the concept, though I am often accused of partaking in such things. Does it sound as if I am flirting?"

"God, I hope not," I teased.

"I'm not sure what my father has to do with this."

I laughed helplessly. Perhaps the answer to my humanity wasn't in some dusty old book, or a spell, or some complicated procedure to remove the demons inside of me. Maybe it was just in the company of a few good hunters, and one socially inept angel. I turned on my side and huddled up next to Castiel. He was warmer than the sheets, and knowing I wasn't alone might be enough to keep the nightmares at bay for the time being.

"Is it customary for people to sleep beside one another in this fashion?"

"Stop talking, Cas'. I'm trying to sleep."

"Apologies. I uh – I will be here when you are awake."