"When she was just a girl
She expected the world
But it flew away from her reach
So she ran away in her sleep
Dreamed of para- para- paradise
Para- para- paradise
Para- para- paradise
Every time she closed her eyes."
Calypso listened to one of her favorite songs in the back of the impala, on her way to Chicago. She closed her eyes, not falling asleep, but thinking. Reliving the good points in her life, almost as if she was dreaming forced dreams. It was something she did often. Dean was driving silently while Sam was asleep in the passenger seat. He had driven all day, and was taking his break while Dean took over for a while.
"When she was just a girl
She expected the world
But it flew away from her reach
And the bullets catch in her teeth."
Calypso looked out the window at the diamond specked sky, wide eyed. She still wasn't used to seeing the night sky. It was so strange to be able to look at it without-
"What're you listening to?" Dean asked, interrupting her thoughts. She turned, a peaceful expression on her face. It was one of those rare moments where she didn't have to worry about anything.
"It's a song called Paradise," she replied, taking out one of her headphones so she could converse. "It's... Comforting. I can relate to it."
"Life goes on
It gets so heavy
The wheel breaks the butterfly
Every tear, a waterfall
In the night, the stormy night
She closed her eyes
In the night, the stormy night
Away she'd fly."
As the song reached the chorus again, she blushed.
"That sounded stupid, didn't it," she laughed nervously.
"Nah," Dean told her. "That's what music is for."
"Yeah," she agreed, smiling dreamily. "You know, when you have a bad day, it's there for you. Same thing with books. They cheer you up really easily. I love it!"
"So lying underneath those stormy skies.
She said oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.
I know the sun must set to rise."
Dean laughed at her enthusiasm. It was cute, watching her get excited over simple things. It reminded him of how Sam was as a kid, a bit.
"Geek," he joked. Calypso stuck her tongue out at him.
"Moron," she shot back. Dean smiled and turned back to the road while Calypso put the headphone back in her ear.
"This could be para- para- paradise
Para- para- paradise
Could be para- para- paradise
Whoa-oh-oh oh-oooh oh-oh-oh."
Yes, it could, Calypso thought, smiling. Yes, it could.
The next morning, they arrived in Chicago. After checking into a motel room, the threewent out to investigate the scene of the attack they were looking into. A girl had been killed in a locked apartment. The alarms weren't set off, the windows were shut tightly, and nothing seemed to be touched. Except the girl, of course.
It was clearly their type of case.
They pulled up outside the apartment building and unloaded, dressed as employees of the company that made the alarm in the girl's apartment. Neither Dean nor Calypso enjoyed it.
"I feel like a man," Calypso complained as Dean took a tool box out of the trunk. Sam looked at her.
"You look fine," he reassured her. She shook her head.
"I don't care how I look. But, seriously, this thing makes me feel like a friggin' man!" she explained. Dean came towards them, carrying a tool box of what Calypso knew were weapons and other devices.
"You know, I've gotta say Dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork," he stated, then smiled. They started walking "What was that play that you did? What was it – Our Town. Yeah, you were good, it was cute."
"Look, you two wanna pull this off or not?" Sam asked. Calypso shrugged.
"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?" Dean said.
"Whose?" Sam pointed out.
"Ours," Dean told him. Calypso rolled her eyes. "You think credit card fraud is easy?"
"Well, it's not hard," Calypso told him. "Not if you know what you're doing."
She smiled cheekily at Dean and scurried to the door, stopping only to send a smile back to Sam and Dean, now many steps behind her.
They were guided into the apartment by the landlady, an unfriendly woman with the tendency to speak her mind. The woman told about how she discovered Meredith, the murdered girl, looking almost as if she was torn apart by a wild animal. Then she left them alone to look around.
"So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothin'," Dean summarized a few minutes later.
"I'm tellin' ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said.
Calypso nodded, looking around thoughtfully.
"Yeah, it definitely feels weird in here," Calypso. "Feels like death and... Something else. I can't really sense that part as well."
Dean looked down at the EMF meter which beeped frantically.
"I think I agree with you both," Dean said.
"So, you talked to the cops?" Sam asked.
"Uh, yeah," Dean replied. He smirked. "I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law."
"Yeah?" Sam asked. Calypso stopped letting her eyes wander around the apartment and looked at Dean, awaiting an answer. "What'd you find out?"
"Well, she's a Sagittarius," Dean said dreamily. Calypso sighed and rolled her eyes. She turned her attention back to the apartment, Dean's words going in one ear and out the other. "She loves tequila, I mean—wow. Oh, and she's got this little tattoo—"
"Dean!" Sam interrupted, steering him back on topic.
"What?" Dean said. "Yeah. Uh, nothin' we don't already know. Except for one thing they're keepin' out of the papers."
That caught Calypso's attention.
"What?" she asked.
"Meredith's heart was missing," Dean told her and Sam.
"Her heart?" Sam asked, stunned.
"Yeah," Dean repeated. "Her heart."
"So, what do you think did it to her?" Sam asked. Calypso was one step ahead of him. She was going through creatures in her head, trying to fit one of them into the situation.
"Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was. Werewolf?" Dean suggested.
"No, I already checked the lunar cycle," Calypso said. "Nowhere near a full moon for a good two weeks. And it can't be a spirit 'cause I'm not sensing anything. Except that thing I can't make out. But I can tell it isn't a spirit, at least. Maybe something close to it?"
"Maybe," Sam agreed. Dean looked at the bloodstains on the carpet and seemed to notice something.
"See if you can find any masking tape around," Dean told Calypso.
She raised an eyebrow.
Why?
It turned out that Dean wanted to play connect the dots with the large bloodstains. Calypso watched, wondering what she was supposed to be looking for. But when Dean was finished, it was clear what he wanted to show her and Sam.
"What the hell?" Calypso muttered, looking at the odd symbol that Dean had put together.
"Ever see that symbol before?" Sam asked his brother.
"Never," Dean replied.
"Me neither," Sam said.
The three looked at each other, the same question on each of their minds.
What the hell were they dealing with?
They went to a bar that night, the one where Meredith used to work at. Of course, Calypso was a little young to be there, but the Winchesters had it covered. She now had a fake ID, claiming she just turned 21. Of course, she couldn't bring herself to drink anything. Not to mention that Dean wasn't letting her go anywhere near liquor. She didn't really want to. It smelled weird, and probably tasted even weirder.
Calypso had the shared task of finding out what Meredith was acting like before she was killed. She'd asked around a bit, but the girl had been normal for the last days of her life. As she wandered around, looking for anything out of the ordinary, she noticed Dean, given up on the mission, flirting with the bartender.
Calypso rolled her eyes. Dean was so focused while hunting, but when it came to girls with big boobs, he couldn't help himself. Why were all guys like this? Couldn't they tell most of the big ones are fake? If they did, it didn't seem to bother them.
Calypso looked over at the door to see Sam come inside and sit at an empty table. She quickly joined him, eager to stop looking around the bar she had memorized two hours ago. As she sat down, Sam took out his father's journal, leafing through the pages. Dean soon joined them.
"I talked to the bartender," he stated. Calypso laughed.
"You've been talking to the bartender for almost the entire time we've been here!" she pointed.
"Did you get anything?" Sam asked Dean. He grinned. "Besides her number?"
"Dude, I'm a professional," Dean protested. "I'm offended that you would think that." Calypso scoffed as Sam gave his brother a knowing look. "All right, yeah." Dean chuckled and held up a napkin with the number on it.
"You mind doin' a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?" Sam asked. Calypso looked between the two, uncomfortable with the way this conversation was going.
"Look, nobody knew anything weird about Meredith," Calypso changed topics. "Everyone said she was normal. She didn't act weird before she died. It was a shock to everyone." She looked at Sam. "Did you have any luck with the symbol?"
"Nope, nothing," Sam said. "It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess."
"Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?" Dean asked. Calypso nodded, remembering.
"Right. Yeah," Sam agreed. He pulled out a newspaper clipping about the first man's death. "His name was, uh—his name was Ben Swardstrom." He handed the clipping to Dean. "Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal—the door was locked, the alarm was on."
"And no connection between the two?" Calypso asked.
"Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least," Sam replied. "Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds."
"So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number," Dean asked. He smirked.
"Will you please shut up!" Calypso told him, hitting the table lightly in a joking manner.
Sam suddenly got out of his seat and walked away, much to the surprise of Dean and Calypso.
"What?" Calypso asked.
"Sam?" Dean called at the same time. But Sam didn't turn back around. His eyes were set on something. Calypso couldn't see what, though.
After exchanging a look, Calypso and Dean followed, shoving their way through the crowd with mumbled apologies from Calypso. They showed up behind Sam as he was talking to a petite, clearly dyed blonde haired girl.
"...I thought you were going to California," Calypso heard Sam say as she walked up.
"Oh, I did," the girl answered. Her hair was very short, almost a rebel haircut. "I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar."
"Who?" Sam asked, confused.
"Oh, it doesn't matter," Meg replied. Calypso heard a hint of an accent, but couldn't quite place it. British, maybe? She couldn't tell. "Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while."
Dean cleared his throat loudly, but was ignored. Calypso looked over at him and shrugged. Maybe the girl was a college friend. It wouldn't be the first one Calypso had met. But there was something about the girl that seemed a little off. Like a facade. Calypso knew the girl was hiding something. She just couldn't tell what it was.
"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked. Clearly not a college friend, then. He'd know more about her, if she was. Where did he know the girl from?
"No, Massachusetts—Andover," the girl explained. She smiled. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"
"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again," Sam admitted. So he only met her once, Calypso assumed.
"Well, I'm glad you were wrong," the girl said. Sam nodded. Dean cleared his throat again, even louder than the first time. The girl turned to him, annoyed. "Dude, cover your mouth."
"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg," Sam said, sounding uncomfortable. "This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean. And, uh, my sister, Calypso."
Meg was clearly surprised.
"This is Dean?" she asked, then looked at Calypso. Something flickered in her eyes. Triumph? It was too quick to tell. "And you're Calypso? Nice contacts. Purple's a cool color."
"Thanks," Calypso said hesitantly. She was suspicious. How did Meg know so much?
"So, you've heard of me?" Dean asked.
"Oh, yeah," Meg said angrily. "I've heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage."
Calypso's eyes widened in shock. She looked over at Dean, who was almost as taken aback as she was.
"Okay, look, that was uncalled for," Calypso told Meg icily. Her arms crossed.
"And you, always jumping to his defense?" Meg said, turning to her. "Refusing to take sides? Don't you support your family?"
"Yeah, I do, which is why I'm telling you to back off, bitch!" Calypso said loudly, but calmly. Meg and Calypso stared at each other aggressively for a few seconds before Calypso felt a hand lightly touching her arm. She turned to the right to see Sam shaking his head and rolled her eyes. "Fine. She's not worth it anyway," Calypso said over her shoulder as she stalked away.
She couldn't hear Sam's apologies or Dean's excuse to leave, only the buzzing in her ears. It was odd. Calypso usually didn't have a temper, but Meg's presence seemed to bring out the worst in her. And she didn't like it.
"Callie!" a deep voice called after her. She knew it was Dean, but didn't turn around. She did, however, slow down enough to let him catch up to her. "What just happened?" he asked once he was next to Calypso.
She frowned, her mind clearing once again. What had happened? Meg's presence happened. Something was way wrong.
"I don't know," Calypso replied slowly. She wasn't lying. She really wasn't sure what was going on. All she knew was that something obviously wasn't right.
"I didn't realize you had such a big temper," Dean commented as she stopped walking.
"Neither did I," she admitted. Calypso looked around the bar. "I guess we need to wait for Sam, to get answers."
Dean nodded.
So they waited.
Sam finally emerged from the crowd a few minutes later. Calypso waited until they were in the parking lot to ask the big question.
"Who the hell was she?" Calypso asked, a faint anger coming forward, like an echo.
"I don't really know," Sam told her. "I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, it's weird."
"And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage?" Dean asked. "What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?"
"Look, I'm sorry, Dean," Sam apologized. "It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—"
"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying?" Dean asked "I mean, am I keeping you against-"
"Both of you, just shut up!" Calypso yelled, fed up with the argument. She turned to Sam. "You, don't rant about Dean to some stranger," She turned to Dean, "And you, don't be so sensitive about it. I remember a few choice words coming out of your mouth, too. Now," she said, turning to Sam, "Please, tell us as much as you know."
"I think there's somethin' strange going on here," Sam said.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean said. "She wasn't even that into me."
"Believe it or not, not all girls are," Calypso told him. He ignored her.
"No, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead," Sam suggested. Calypso agreed.
"Why do you say that?" Dean asked.
"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?" Sam pointed out.
"I don't know, random coincidence. It happens." Dean said.
"Yeah, it happens, but not to us," Sam pointed out.
"Not to mention, Meg was hiding something. She was acting the entire time," Calypso said. "It took a minute for me to figure it out, but it's true."
"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.
"Because I know how it looks when someone hides their personality in public," Calypso explained. "They seem charming and nice, but they really aren't at all."
"How do you know that?" Dean asked. Calypso looked pointedly away. "Right, sorry. You don't like to talk about that stuff."
"It's fine," Calypso told him. "What's our next move?"
"Maybe there isn't a next move," Dean said. "Maybe Meg is just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on," Sam told his brother. Dean smirked.
"Well, I bet you'd like to," Dean joked. Calypso rolled her eyes. "I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Sam also rolled his eyes and laughed. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" He pointed to his head and grinned as Sam became serious again.
"Do me a favor, both of you," Sam said. "Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor."
Calypso nodded. It sounded reasonable enough.
"What are you gonna do?" Dean asked.
"I'm gonna watch Meg," Sam replied. Dean laughed.
"Yeah, you are," he said.
"I just wanna see what's what," Sam claimed. "Better safe than sorry."
"All right, you little pervert," Dean said. Calypso couldn't help herself. She giggled.
"Dude," Sam complained.
"I'm goin', I'm goin'," Dean said. He and Calypso crossed the street, not exactly enthusiastic to do research, but they both knew it was necessary.
Joy.
They discovered that Meg checked out and, after a couple calls, the symbol from the bloodstains was a sigil for a Daeva. A Daeva was essentially a demon of darkness. They were supposedly savage creatures, like animals, and had to be summoned by someone – or something. So, clearly they had to find whoever controlled the thing and take them down.
After both Sam and Dean came back to the motel room following their little excursions, they met with Calypso by the table in the kitchen.
"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?" Dean asked in confirmation after Sam told of how he followed Meg to an abandoned building. He saw the black alter and Meg using a bowl of blood to contact someone.
"I totally called it," Calypso pointed out. Sam shot her a look and she shrugged.
"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing," Sam explained.
"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl," Dean said. He chuckled as both Sam and Calypso rolled their eyes. "And what's the deal with that bowl again?"
"She was talking into it," Sam explained. "The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."
"With who? With the Daeva?" Dean asked.
"But didn't you tell me that Daevas were like animals?" Calypso asked. "Complete savages?"
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "This was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse." Calypso pursed her lips, remembering what Dean had showed her an hour or two before. They exchanged a look before he sat down at the table with files covering it, and looked through the papers. "Holy crap."
"What?" Sam asked.
"What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my –" He cleared his throat. "– friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time."
"What?" Sam asked, coming over to look at the records.
"The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born," Dean said. He pointed to the place of birth section of the page.
"Lawrence, Kansas," Sam read aloud. Calypso took a step back. It was something huge for Sam and Dean, but not necessarily for her.
"Mhm," Dean agreed, picking up the second file. "Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from." Lawrence, Kansas, Calypso already knew. Sam sat down across from Dean, shocked, leaving Calypso standing alone, a few feet away from the table.
"Holy crap," Sam said.
"That about sums it up," Calypso agreed.
"Yeah," Dean said.
"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started," Sam thought out loud. "So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?"
"I think it's a definite possibility," Dean said. Calypso sighed. What more evidence did they need? Sam had seen her at the black altar. She showed up randomly, when she was supposed to be in California. She had hearts on a stick, for crying out loud! Was this not suspicious enough?
"But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence?" Sam asked. What if it was just to draw them in? Calypso became unsure. It could be a trap. That's what she would do. "And how do these Daeva things fit in?"
"Beats me," Dean admitted. "But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."
"No, we can't," Sam said. "We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her."
Maybe it was a trap. There was always that possibility. But Calypso wasn't confident enough to say anything. It was only a maybe, after all.
"I'll tell you one thing," Dean said. "I don't think we should do this alone."
Who would help them?
Dean tried calling his father, though all three knew he wasn't going to answer. They just didn't want to say it out loud.
Calypso and Sam brought weapons in from the impala as Dean spoke, and overheard the last part of the message he left.
"We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom," Dean spoke into the phone. "So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." He hung up.
"Voicemail?" Sam asked as Calypso set the weapons down.
"Yeah," Dean said. He gestured to the bags Sam was holding, as well as the ones Calypso had set down. "Jesus, what'd you get?"
Sam chuckled and Calypso looked up at him, grinning.
"We ransacked that trunk," Sam told him. Calypso stretched out her back. "Holy water, every weapon that we could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."
"Of course, we don't know how to kill Daevas, so we're just winging it on that part," Calypso added. "I mean, how do you kill a shadow?"
Dean nodded, and the three began loading their guns silently. This was big. If they actually killed the thing... But if they did, what if the Winchesters left Calypso? They wouldn't have any other goals. They'd go different ways, and she would be alone. Again. She bit her lip, scared.
"Big night," Dean said, out of the blue. No kidding.
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "You nervous?"
"No. Why, are you?" Dean asked. Sure he wasn't. Even Calypso was nervous, and this thing wasn't even connected to her.
"No," Sam claimed. "No way." It was silent for a few seconds. "God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Calypso warned with a slight smile.
"I know," Sam said. "I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month." Calypso doubted there would be time for that. "Go back to school—be a person again."
"You wanna go back to school?" Dean asked. Calypso could feel a fight coming on.
"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing," Sam told him.
"Huh," Dean said simply.
"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Sam asked defensively.
"No," Dean claimed. "No, it's, uh, great. Good for you."
"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?" Sam asked. "Callie?"
She gave a halfhearted shrug.
"I don't know," she said softly. "There's so much I can't do. So much I don't want to do. I don't know if it's ever gonna be over for me, now that I know this stuff."
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin'
to hunt."
"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself—" Sam said.
"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam," Dean said, walking over to the dresser.
"Maybe I should..." Calypso began awkwardly, looking at the door. "Maybe I should go..."
"No, stay," Sam insisted. He turned to Dean. "Dude, what's your problem?"
Dean was silent for a while, then turned back to Sam.
"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh?" Dean asked. "I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"
"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom," Sam guessed. Calypso tried to blend into the wall.
"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man," Dean said. He returned to the dresser, quiet, then turned back to Sam again. "You and me and Dad—I mean, I want us... I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again." He looked over at Calypso. "A family with a new member."
Calypso was touched. She still wasn't sure how she fit into the old family equation, but if Dean was willing to try to squeeze her in, well, she was willing to try, too.
"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before," Sam told his brother gently. Calypso saw Dean's face go from hopeful to heartbroken.
"Could be," Dean said sadly. It almost broke Calypso's heart to see Dean without his barriers. Dean, so protective and loving of his family. All he wanted was for things to be the same, again. But they wouldn't be with her here, would they? She was the one thing that stood between Dean and his wish.
"I don't want them to be," Sam told him. "I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."
He and Dean shared a look and Calypso's mind wandered. So Sam would be gone, but Dean would stay, probably with his dad. Where would she go? John Winchester didn't seem like the type to adopt an inhuman girl into the family.
What was she gonna do?
They left soon afterwards, and arrived at the warehouse quickly. Calypso brought up the rear as they climbed up the elevator shaft to reach the top room and was again the last one to securely hide herself behind the crates. She didn't look around the room much, gun in hand and knife in her pocket. Meg stood at an altar by a window, speaking in an ancient language that Calypso could not understand. Then the girl stopped.
"Guys," Meg said calmly, without turning around. Calypso's heart sank and she closed her eyes for a moment, disappointed. "Hiding's a little bit childish, don't you think?"
"Well, that didn't work out like I planned," Dean said lightly. Meg turned around to face them. Well, the crates, anyway.
"Why don't you come out?" Meg suggested, though it was said more as a command. Calypso followed Sam and Dean out from behind the crates, hoping that one of them had a plan B. "Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam replied.
"So, where's your little Daeva friend?" Dean asked.
"Around," Meg claimed. Calypso frowned, perplexed. What did she mean by that? "You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good."
"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," Dean told her coolly. "The shotgun's not for the demon."
Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. What if Meg wasn't human and couldn't be killed by a gun? That would be a bit of an issue.
"So, who is it, Meg?" Sam asked. Calypso felt a chill and shivered, but dismissed it as a draft. "Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?"
"You."
Calypso paled. A trap. Why didn't she throw the idea out there in the first place? She could've kept them out of this mess. God, she was so stupid!
The draft came again and this time, Calypso froze. That didn't feel like a draft. It felt like something's cool breath on the back of her neck. She turned around slowly, heart racing, to face whatever was behind her.
And she screamed.
This was the Daeva. This was the demon of darkness. It looked exactly how Calypso pictured the dementors from Harry Potter, with a torn, black cloak and a hood. But underneath the hood was what terrified her. There was no face, no features. Just gray skin, hanging loosely off the skull. Eye sockets, yes, but only black pits where the eyes should have been. Its mouth seemed to be stretched into a grotesque smile, bloody and rotting away. It was a thing made of nightmares and pure fear. And when it knocked Calypso out, she couldn't move her arm up to protect herself.
Calypso woke up first, with her arms tied together behind a post. Her head pounded and she groaned as she struggled to remember what had happened. Calypso suddenly straightened up with a gasp as the image of the Daeva rose to front of her mind once again.
She was startled as she turned to find Meg only a few inches away from her, Calypso's knife in hand. The girl looked at her in an interested way, the way a scientist would look at an experiment. Calypso squirmed, feeling the ropes burn against her skin.
"Daevas look very frightening, don't you think?" Meg asked with a smile. "Of course, humans can't see them, which is a shame. But you aren't human, are you, Calypso Daemgelus?"
"Don't call me that," Calypso protested. It was supposed to sound loud and confident, yet it came out small and meek.
"Oh, that's right," Meg said, sounding overjoyed by Calypso's anger. "You don't use that last name. Too many bad memories I suppose? Connections to before you ran away? Like dear Mr. Red Eyes-"
"Stop it!" Calypso yelled, finally finding the strength. The memories filled Calypso with terror, just as they always had. Meg smiled and was about to continue when a sound came from another post. Calypso looked in the direction to see Dean slowly waking up.
And a few feet away from him was the Daeva, with its black robes and sunken face. It wandered around in circles, seeming aggravated. Calypso just stared at it, the color draining from her face.
"Callie?" Dean asked, trying to see where her eyes led, but, to him, there was nothing there. "What are you looking at?"
"You don't see it..." Calypso whispered, afraid what would happen if she spoke loudly.
"See what?"
"The Daevas, of course," Meg said. There were more than one? Calypso wouldn't let herself look around to check. "Don't worry, it's natural for her to see them. She isn't human, remember?" She went over by Dean. "Because humans can't do anything right. Like how you got caught."
There was movement again, this time from Sam. And by Sam there was another Daeva. Calypso decided to just look down at her legs. If she saw another, she would have a frigging heart attack. She saw Meg's feet travel over to Sam and stop, waiting. After a moment, Sam finally opened his eyes.
"Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend... is a bitch," Dean said loudly. There was a pause.
"This, the whole thing, was a trap," Sam realized. Really? Good job on figuring that one out, Sam! "Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it?" Meg laughed. "And that the victims were from Lawrence?"
"It doesn't mean anything," Meg told him. "It was just to draw you in, that's all."
Calypso clenched her fists. The deaths were unnecessary, meaningless. Why did she even kill them?
"You killed those two people for nothing," Sam spat, on the same page.
"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less," Meg quickly shot back.
"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time," Dean said. He smiled. "But why don't you kill us already?"
"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Meg asked. She leaned in closer. "This trap isn't for you."
Calypso raised her head slightly, wide eyed, coming to the conclusion.
"Dad," Sam said for her. "It's a trap for Dad."
Dean looked up at Meg, who smiled down at him.
"Oh, sweetheart—you're dumber than you look," Dean told her. "'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."
"He is pretty good," Meg admitted. "I'll give you that." She walked over to Dean and sat down, straddling his legs. "But you see, he has one weakness."
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"You," Meg answered. "He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy."
"I would raise my hand and wait to be called on, but, for obvious reasons, I kinda can't," Calypso said out of the blue. "There's a flaw in your plan. They can't kill me."
Meg laughed, delighted.
"Of course not," she told Calypso. "You're not supposed to be touched. My bosses have taken a special interest in you. They want to see you up close. See how you tick."
"Oh, sounds fun," Calypso said, sounding indifferent, though the idea of meeting Meg's bosses terrified her.
"Fun for them, I suppose," Meg replied, twirling Calypso's knife around. Calypso watched with narrowed eyes, ignoring the Daevas wandering around the room. "They love their experiments and tests. You'll be a popular subject."
"Wow, I'll have friends for once," Calypso said sarcastically. "You know, if the Daevas can actually get the better of John Winchester. He won't go down easily, if he goes down at all."
"Yeah, it's gonna take a lot more than some… shadow to kill him," Dean agreed with Calypso's statement.
"Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they're invisible," Meg informed them. She looked at Calypso, who was ready to protest and rolled her eyes. "Yes, we know. Except for you." She turned back to Sam and Dean. "Their shadows are just the only part you can see."
"Why are you doing this, Meg?" Sam asked. "What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?"
"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do—loyalty," Meg told him seriously. "Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess."
"Go to hell," Sam growled.
"Baby, I'm already there," Meg responded. She smiled and slid over to him, leaving Calypso's knife on the floor. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty." She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?"
"Get a room, you two," Dean groaned in annoyance.
"Guys, come on, I'm fifteen, I don't need to see this," Calypso complained at the same time, looking the other way.
"I didn't mind," Meg continued as if she didn't hear them. "I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun."
Calypso turned back around to see Meg kissing Sam's neck. She let out a quiet shriek and turned back around.
"Fifteen!" Calypso reminded them shrilly. Sure, she may have been able to kill without batting an eye, but when it came to love and, god forbid, kissing, Calypso was a bit squeamish.
"You wanna have fun?" Sam asked. "Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now."
Calypso frowned. Sam wouldn't usually do that. What was he planning? Was he getting free somehow? Didn't Meg take his knife, too? Maybe she didn't. Maybe it was only Calypso's that was taken.
Calypso heard Meg continue to kiss Sam, then a noise on Dean's side of the room. And naturally, so did Meg. She stopped kissing Sam and got up slowly. Calypso looked over to see her walk behind Dean's post, and toss a small object into a corner. Calypso knew it was a knife. Small, yes, but still useful. Meg swung back around to Dean's side of the post, and smiled. Dean chuckled guiltily and Calypso rolled her eyes. He had to make a noise.
Meg slid back over to Sam, and began kissing him again.
"Does age mean nothing to you people?!" Calypso yelled, looking away once again. And, once again, they ignored her.
"Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?" Meg asked Sam.
"No," Sam replied breathlessly. "No. That's because I have a knife of my own."
Calypso whipped her head around in surprise, just in time to see Sam break free of his ropes and grab Meg's shoulders, knocking his head against hers. She fell to the floor as Sam groaned in pain.
"Yes!" Calypso cheered.
"Sam!" Dean called at the same time. "Get the altar."
Sam rushed over to the altar and overturned it, causing the gory decorations to go everywhere. Calypso saw a change in the Daevas immediately, as they all turned and quickly traveled to the center of the room to Meg, their posture suggesting they were mad. Good.
The Daevas grabbed Meg's legs and dragged her across the floor, though her fingernails trying to get a hold of the floor as she screamed. But she couldn't get a grip, and was pulled out the window and dropped to the street seven stories below.
"Ouch," Calypso said sympathetically as the girl fell. "That's gotta hurt."
She looked around the Daeva free room to see Sam cutting Dean free from his ropes. After he was able to, Dean got up and accompanied Sam to Calypso's post to free her.
"Thanks," she told Sam once the ropes were off her wrists. She stood and walked over to her knife, then picked it up. She then joined the Winchesters by the window, staring down at Meg's dead body, sprawled on the sidewalk.
"Certainly looks dead," Calypso noticed, breaking the silence.
"I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around," Sam said. Calypso smiled and turned back around.
"Yeah, I guess not," Dean agreed. "Hey, Sam?"
"Hm?"
"Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o'-crazy, huh?"
He smiled and walked away, Calypso following close behind.
By the time they got back to the motel room, the Winchesters and Calypso were exhausted. Calypso needed to sit down, take a shower. She wasn't up for anymore running around.
"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked as they walked up the hall to their motel room.
"I said it before, and I'll say it again—better safe than sorry," Sam explained again.
Calypso nodded and Dean unlocked and opened the door to the room. They entered, only to see the silhouette of a man standing by the window.
"Hey!" Dean said loudly. Calypso could barely see, blocked by the boys in the back of the entryway. Sam quickly switched on the light and the man turned around. Calypso's mouth fell open. There was no way. "Dad?"
"Hey, boys," John Winchester said simply. Both smiling, Dean and his father walked towards each other and shared a long hug. Though she couldn't see his face, Calypso knew Sam was watching sadly, wanting to do the same thing. Dean and John pulled apart after a few seconds. "Hi, Sam."
"Hey, Dad," Sam said softly. He and his father didn't hug, but looked at each other as if they wanted to. Sam placed the bag of weapons on the ground.
"So, I take it that you aren't a reporter for the Colorado Tribune?" Calypso asked John coolly, finally recovering from the shock.
Sam and Dean looked from Calypso, her arms crossed, to their father, and back again. They knew each other? How?
"No," John admitted, amazed. "I'm sorry I lied about who I was. I needed to talk to you."
"Was I a potential case?" Calypso asked, not sounding distressed or angry. In fact, she only sounded politely interested.
"No, no," John said hurriedly. "You were never a case. I just wanted to check in on you."
"Why? Did you know my mom?" she asked. John nodded.
"Yes, I did," he told her. "She was a friend of mine."
Calypso nodded and took a few steps closer.
"Did she ask you to look after me?" she asked.
"Yes, she did."
Calypso's eyes shined.
"I knew she wouldn't leave me alone," she whispered, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
"She never wanted to leave you in the first place," John told her.
"Wait, what's going on?" Sam finally cut in. "You two know each other?"
"Sort of," John replied. "We only met face to face once. You were 13, right?" Calypso nodded. "I interviewed her about how she was doing after her mother's death. It's a long story for another time." His eyes went back to his boys and Calypso smiled. It was contently quiet for a few seconds.
"Dad, it was a trap," Dean finally said on a more somber note. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."
What was there to be sorry about? He and Sam handled the situation well. Calypso was the one who should have been apologizing. All she did was sit there, tied to a post. She didn't even fight! God, she was useless.
"It's all right," John told him. "I thought it might've been."
"Were you there?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive," John admitted. "She was the bad guy, right?"
"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean replied together while Calypso nodded mutely, then looked around, confused. Was this the military? Was she supposed to say 'yes sir' and 'no sir' all the time? Maybe she should just stay quiet...
"Good," John said. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."
"The demon has?" Sam wondered.
"It knows I'm close," John answered. "It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell—actually kill it."
"How?" Calypso asked, still by the door. Then she bit her tongue. Did she say something wrong? Did she speak out of turn?
John smiled, so she assumed not.
"I'm workin' on that," he replied vaguely.
"Let us come with you," Sam begged. "We'll help."
Calypso saw Dean shoot Sam a warning look.
"No, Sam," John refused. "Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt."
"Dad, you don't have to worry about us." His gaze went to Calypso. "Any of us."
"Of course I do," John disagreed. "I'm your father." He paused, looking at his youngest son. "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."
"Yes, sir."
"It's good to see you again," John told his son. "It's been a long time."
"Too long," Sam said. Calypso smiled tightly. She knew John wouldn't hurt her, but something about middle age men made her nervous.
Sam and his father finally embraced with wet eyes. A minute later, they pulled apart and the three looked around their group tearfully. Calypso looked at her feet. She knew this was coming, but hadn't expected it so soon. She was being shunted aside, excluded from the group. That was okay, though. She was used to it.
Calypso tensed suddenly, and looked up. Something was wrong. Evil pushed against Calypso, it's cold anger a warning of what was about to happen. So when she saw a Daeva behind John, poised to attack him, she screamed.
Though it was only for a moment, three very confused faces turned her way. Calypso stared back meaningfully. Didn't they see that she was trying to help them? Before she could say anything, the Daeva sliced upward, throwing John into a set of cabinets before the man fell to the ground. Then Sam fell, too.
"No!" Dean yelled, before joining his family on the floor.
Calypso looked around in shock, then pulled out her knife and headed straight into the fight. She was needed.
The Daeva attacking Sam was right in front of her, raising its claws and about to bring them down. Calypso, not thinking for a moment, jumped in front of Sam as the Daeva sliced down.
The pain was like a whip slicing across her face, stinging so badly her eyes began to water. But Calypso didn't have time to acknowledge the pain. She raised her head back up, snarling, and jumped on the Daeva, her knife stabbing through where she guessed its heart was. The Daeva screeched, sounding like a song on one of the tapes from the impala, and seemed to melt away. Calypso guessed that it was dead.
It was only afterwards that she would wonder how she killed a demon with a plain knife.
She looked around the dark room and widened her eyes. There were three other Daevas, two attacking Dean and John, and the last one looking straight at Calypso. She brought her knife up again, eyes narrowed. She heard movement behind her as Sam got out of the way.
The Daeva dove forward, but Calypso stepped aside and it missed her. She turned around quickly, but the Daeva had already done the same. They just stared at each other for a moment, at a stalemate. Calypso could keep dodging, but she would never touch the thing. The Daeva could keep charging at her, but she would always dodge. One of them would have to break the pattern.
It ended up being Calypso. She darted forward to attack the Daeva's side, and got a good slice in before the demon whipped around with a snarl and shoved her up against the wall. She let out a cry of pain as a doorknob dug into her back, but the Daeva kept pushing her harder into the door, its hands on her neck. She glared at it, then swung her feet out. They connected with what Calypso thought were the Daeva's legs, and it toppled to the ground. Calypso wasted no time before she brought the knife down, straight into the heart of the creature. It died the same way its brother did, screaming and melting.
Calypso looked around the room again, keeping tabs on how everyone was doing. Clearly not well. Dean and his father were being sliced apart, the Daevas unyielding. But where was Sam?
She looked around again and saw Sam at the bag of weapons he had dropped when he had seen his dad. Calypso saw him take out a flare, and didn't understand at first. What use would that be? Then she got it. Sam was a genius!
"Shut your eyes!" Sam called to his family. "These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!"
He lit the flare and the room was instantly showered in a brilliant white light and smoke appeared everywhere. Calypso watched the Daevas disappear right in front of her eyes and took a deep breath. She gagged on the smoke, then began to feel her way to the exit, coughing.
"Dad!" Calypso heard Dean call from the left of her.
"Over here!" Came the reply. There was scuffling. Calypso finally broke out of the smoke and waited for everyone. First came Dean, supporting a very bloody John. Sam followed, carrying the bag of weapons.
"Is everyone okay?" Calypso asked calmly, her knife still at the ready, just in case.
"Define okay," Dean told her.
"Alive."
"Then yes."
They exited the building and hurried down an alley to the impala. Calypso was handed the bag of weapons and quickly placed them in the backseat of the car.
"All right, come on," Sam said worriedly. "We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Dean protested. He paused, looking at everyone regretfully. "Sam, wait. Dad, you can't come with us."
"What?" Sam exclaimed in disbelief. "What are you talkin' about?"
"You three—you're beat to hell," John worried.
"We're gonna be okay," Calypso reassured him. Sam looked at her as if she betrayed him, but all she knew was that if everyone was together they had a bigger chance of getting killed.
"Guys, we should stick together. We'll go after those demons—" Sam tried to convince them. Calypso reached up and held her necklace tightly, hating herself for wanting to split the family up. Still, it was for the best.
"Sam!" Dean protested. "Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us." Dean seemed to despise himself for saying this. "He—he's stronger without us around."
"Dad-no," Sam begged, putting a hand on his father's shoulder while Dean and Calypso watched sadly. "After everything-after all the time we spent lookin' for you—please. I gotta be a part of this fight."
"Sammy, this fight is just starting," John tried to convince his son. "And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son." Sam shook his head. No. "Okay, you've gotta let me go." Everyone was absolutely silent for a moment, Sam, Dean, and John close to tears. Sam looked at his hand, still on his father's shoulder, and patted the area once before letting go. The man looked at Calypso sadly, who stared back up at him with a clear, emotionless face. John and Dean shared a look, then John walked back to his truck. He looked back at them one more time. "Be careful," he warned before getting in his truck and driving away.
"Come on," Dean ordered after a moment.
The three quickly filed into the car and watched John's truck turn a corner, going out of sight. Without a word, Dean started the car and backed down the street, rounding a different corner than John.
Calypso looked out the window at the city lights, worried. She had been the one to research Daevas, and she knew they couldn't be killed, just set free. So what had she done? She was worrying herself. What was so powerful that it could kill an immortal creature?
What was she?