"Hey," Dean greeted Rosie through the phone. She had left her brothers three weeks earlier - right after the hell house case - and had gone back to Nebraska to seek Caleb's help with her new ... gift, for a lack of better understanding.

"What's up?" she asked her brother, turning down the car radio and putting her phone on speaker. Her and Caleb were on their way to Pastor Jim's church. They were hoping that the demon expert would be able to shine some light on her situation. According to their own research, she was definitely showing signs of demonic ability.

"I have someone here that would like to talk to you," Dean told her. She could hear some arguing on the other end of the line as he passed the phone to whoever he was with, but then she was greeted by her father's voice.

"Dad," she whispered, nearly dropping the phone in surprise. Caleb looked at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge how she was feeling. In all the time she'd been staying with him, she hadn't mentioned her father once. "You're back?" Rosie asked, smiling at Caleb to let him know she was fine. "What happened?"

"We've recovered a weapon that I've been looking for, for a long time," John told her. He seemed to hesitate for a second before he continued: "We can use it to kill the demon that killed your mother," he explained. "Now we just have to find him."

"You don't mean the colt?" Caleb cut in, ripping the phone from Rosie's hands. "How do you even know it will work? How do you know it's the real deal? If it really is the colt, do you have any idea who, no what, will come after you to get it? That thing - "

"Caleb," John cut him off.

"John, this is insane," Caleb shook his head.

"What are you guys talking about? What's so special about this gun?" Rosie asked, taking the phone back from Caleb. He just shook his head at her, refusing to answer the question, so she turned to the phone instead: "Dad?"

"I'll explain later," John told her. "I've got to go."

"Dad!" Rosie yelled, but she was too late. He had already hung up on her.

"Fine, I guess I'll explain," Caleb sighed before Rosie could start to nag at him for answers. "Okay so, according to legend, anything shot by this gun, using one of its thirteen original bullets, will die. I mean anything."

"That's impossible," Rosie scoffed.

"It's not," Caleb shook his head, "but in order for this thing to work, you have to use one of the original bullets, or you're gonna find yourself in a very sticky situation. Now, the thing is, you can't be absolutely sure until you actually fire it."

"Our dad wouldn't risk our lives like that," Rosie told him. "He has to be sure."

"Even if he is," Caleb turned to her, "that gun is gonna cause a lot of trouble. Your dad didn't tell you how he got his hands on it, but I can assure that he's had to kill to get that thing. I can also assure that a lot of people, a lot of monsters, demons, won't hesitate to kill him in order to get their hands on it either."

"But if it can kill anything - " Rosie started to argue.

"There's only thirteen bullets," Caleb reminded her. "God knows how many of those have been used up, already. Your dad's not gonna waste any. He'll only use one of those bullets, and that's - "

" - to shoot the thing that killed my mom," Rosie finished.

...

"Father?" Caleb called, walking past the rows of wooden pews that lined the sides of the old church. Rosie followed close behind him, slightly worried that the pastor hadn't answered them yet. No matter how late it was, he was usually at there, ready for any lost soul to wander into his place of worship.

"Jim!" Caleb called, louder this time. "You here?"

"Hey, Caleb," Rosie interrupted him, walking onto the small podium at the front of the church. Something seemed to be a little off to her. Pastor Jim's bible was still there on his reading desk, opened about halfway through. Some of the candles in the back had been blown out, though there didn't seem to be a draft.

"No!" Caleb yelled, storming past the podium and down to the basement where the pastor kept his arsenal. He hadn't noticed it before, but as soon as he realized that the door to the basement had been left wide open, he knew something was wrong. Jim always made sure that it was locked tight.

"Caleb!" Rosie ran after him, nearly crashing into his back as he suddenly came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. She pushed her way past him, trying to find out why he had stopped. "You've got to be kidding me," she whispered, taking in the sight before her.

Pastor Jim lay dead on the ground, a knife embedded in his throat.

" ... and so it begins," Caleb shook his head, walking over to his old friend. He pulled the knife out, wiping it clean on his shirt before putting it back up on the wall. "Help me carry him up the stairs? We have to burn him."

"Shouldn't we bury him?" Rosie kneeled down beside Jim, gently pushing his eyelids down over his eyes, dabbing away the small spots of blood that had splattered onto his face. "You know, Catholicism and all?"

"No," Caleb picked the pastor up by his shoulders while Rosie grabbed his ankles. It wasn't the first time that she'd had to carry a dead body, or even a friend's dead body for that matter, but it still felt wrong. "We can't take any chances," he told her. "We have no idea what killed him."

"I have an idea," a familiar voice called from the top of the stairs, sending chills down Rosie's spine. She gently lowered Jim's legs down to the floor, turning around to face the last person - if she could call even her a person - that she'd ever expect to find in a church. "Surprise," Meg smiled, her eyes turning black.

"What do you want?" Caleb glared up at the demon.

"Hmm," Meg hummed, ignoring Caleb and walking straight up to Rosie. She didn't waste any time getting to the point, telling her exactly what she wanted: "Your daddy dearest has something I want, " she growled. "Where is he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rosie lied.

"Where is he?" Meg repeated, taking a menacing step towards her.

"I don't know," Rosie spat, glaring up at the demon.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas - " Caleb started to read the exorcism rites that pastor Jim kept in the armory. He didn't get very far, however, as Meg decided to send him flying into the pastor's arsenal.

"You leave him alone," Rosie growled, moving to stand in front of Caleb.

Meg laughed mirthlessly, sending Rosie flying off to the side as well. She walked over to the armory, picking up the knife that she'd used to kill Jim. Caleb tried to crawl away from her as she moved to stand over him, twirling the knife around, looking down at him with a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

Rosie pushed herself up, looking around for a weapon to use on the demon, but came up empty. She started to panic as she watched Meg bring the knife down to Caleb's chest, but before she knew it her entire body felt like it was on fire, the room illuminated by a familiar, bright, white light.

Meg was thrown back against the door, her eyes no longer black. Fear marked her features, and for a moment she looked almost human. She shielded herself from the light, that Rosie had realized was coming from her hands, before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.

"You know," Caleb laughed nervously, "that was pretty impressive."

"Yeah, thanks," Rosie nodded, pulling her friend up off the floor. She was thankful that her powers had seemed to flare up at just the right moment, but she was terrified by the fact that she hadn't been able to control them.

"Let's get out of here," Caleb told her, dusting himself off and pulling her up the stairs. Rosie had been able to save them this time, but he doubted they'd get that lucky again, and though Meg had seemed scared, she was sure to come back.

"What about Jim?" Rosie asked, looking back down to the basement.

"There's no time," Caleb shook his head, feeling bad for leaving his old friend down there to rot. He knew he didn't have a choice, however, and kept moving. "She'll be back," he told Rosie, "with reinforcements."

...

"Rosie," Sam greeted his sister. "Where are you?"

"I just left Lincoln," Rosie told him, driving past the Omaha city limit. Caleb had made her leave, telling her it'd be best if they split up. He had convinced her that he would be fine on his own, reminding her that he had been a hunter a hell of a lot longer than she had. "Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as if her brother could see her through the phone. "You headed this way?"

She could just heard the words "Lincoln," "safe," and "Caleb," before Sam covered the mouthpiece, preventing her from hearing the argument on the other end of the line. She could hear Dean shout: "Don't!" as Sam returned to the phone.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Rosie asked, her stomach twisting itself into a tight knot. She worried that something bad had happened to their dad. He had been with her brothers the last time she'd checked, but she had yet to hear his voice. She was about to ask about him, but then she remember that they'd mentioned Caleb ...

"It's nothing," Sam told her.

"Don't lie to me, Sam," Rosie warned him. Her brother covered the phone again, no doubt debating with Dean on how much they should tell her. "That's it," she snapped, making a u-turn right in the middle of traffic. "I'm going back there."

"Don't!" Sam shouted. "It's Caleb - "

"Is he - Did Meg -" Rosie swallowed, trying to hold back her tears. She knew she shouldn't have left, despite what the hunter had told her. Meg had managed to take out a demon expert inside a freaking church, for crying out loud. How could she ever think that Caleb would be able to handle the demon on his own?

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered

"Knights Inn Motel, Omaha," Rosie told her brother, ending the call as she pulled into the abandoned motel parking lot. Whether they liked it or not, her brothers were going to come an get her, and together they were going to end that demon bitch, once and for all.

...

"Hey, haven't seen you in a while," Rosie greeted Gabriel as he popped into her motel room later that night. She had barely looked up when he had suddenly appeared in the door opening, slowly getting used to his surprise appearances. Plus, she just didn't have any energy left to yell at him.

"You've been busy," Gabriel reminded her, sitting down next to her on the bed. He gently pushed her hair back behind her ears, wiping away some of the tears that stained her cheeks. He didn't want to risk upsetting her again, and so he didn't ask her what had happened. She'd talk when she was ready.

"I have," Rosie smiled half-heartedly.

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, neither one of them sure what to do or say. Rosie briefly debated on telling the trickster what she'd found out about her abilities, and how they might be demonic in nature, but she didn't want to risk scaring him off. Meanwhile, Gabriel knew that he could easily find out why Rosie had been crying by simply going through her memories, but he wanted her to tell him herself, and so he waited for her to speak.

"It happened again," Rosie finally told him, looking up at him through he lashes. He was confused for a second before he realized that she was talking about her abilities. "I managed to scare off a demon," she chuckled.

"You did?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow, surprised at how quickly her powers had seemed to develop. He was happy that she'd been able to protect herself, but the idea that all of hell probably knew about her abilities by now had him worried. It wouldn't be long before heaven found out, too.

"Caleb was there when it happened," Rosie nodded, pulling him from his thoughts.

"He knows?" Gabriel asked, surprised that she had trusted her friend with her secret. As far as he knew, she hadn't even told her own brothers. It had been just between the two of them, and if he was honest with himself, the thought that she'd told someone else, especially Caleb, made him slightly jealous.

"He did know," Rosie nodded. Gabriel wondered why she had used past tense, but then he realized: "I made him promise not to tell anyone, to take it to his grave. I didn't mean for him to take it so literally," she laughed bitterly, letting her head fall down into her hands as she cried.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Gabriel told her, pulling her into his chest. He let her cry it all out, trying to find a way to make it better. He felt like a complete asshole for being jealous of Caleb earlier. Man, was he glad that he wasn't in that guy's shoes right now.

"Thanks," Rosie hiccupped, letting go of him as she tried to slow her breathing. She refused to make eye contact, embarrassed that he'd seen her cry. Instead, she looked down at his chest, which only made it worse once she realized that she had ruined his shirt. "Sorry about that," she pulled on the fabric, trying to wipe away the splotches of mascara that she'd left there.

"That's ok," Gabriel snapped his fingers, making the stains disappear. "You should get some rest. Your brothers should be here soon," he told her, getting up off the bed. She nodded at him, pulling the covers up over her body.

"I really don't want to be alone right now," Rosie whispered, gently pulling him back towards her, linking her hand with his. "Will you stay?" she pleaded, looking up at him as she intertwining their fingers.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Gabriel smiled, sitting back down. He took off his shoes, laying down on top op the covers. He allowed Rosie to lay her head in his chest and cuddle into his side, wrapping an arm around her waist. Even if he'd had the ability to fall asleep, he knew that he wouldn't have been able to with her lying so close to him.

"Thank you," Rosie hummed, slowly drifting off.

...

"You know, we saved this kid the other day. Her name was Rosie, too," Dean told his sister. He picked up her backpack, holding out his hand out to help her up. "She was a cute little thing," he smiled at her.

"You trying to make me jealous, Dean?" Rosie quipped, raising an eyebrow at him as she allowed him to pull her off the bed. Her brothers had arrived early that morning. She had been jolted awake by their incessant knocking, and she was glad to find that Gabriel had long since disappeared.

"Are you ok?" Dean asked, surprised at how normal she seemed to be acting despite everything that had happened. He knew Caleb's death, and even Jim's, had to have hit her hard. For a long time, both men had been great mentors to his sister, taking care of her when their dad couldn't. Caleb, in the end, had been like a brother to her.

"I will be," Rosie nodded.

"We'll find dad. We'll find Meg, too. We've got this," Dean showed her the colt, twirling it around in his hand. Rosie clenched her jaw, that gun being the reason that her friends were dead ... the reason her dad was gone. Again. "She'll get hers," her brother assured her. "Don't worry."

"I know. Thanks, Dean," Rosie hugged him. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean squeezed his sister's shoulders, allowing her to hold on for a bit before he gently peeled her off of him. "Let's go," he told her, throwing her backpack over his shoulder as he pushed her out the door. "Where's your car?"

"I don't want it anymore," Rosie told him, sliding right into the backseat of the Impala.

...

Dean, Sam, and Rosie made it to Sioux Falls in just under three hours - or, to Singer Salvage Yard, to be precise - and after having some holy water, which was conveniently kept in a hipflask, splashed in their faces, they had been allowed into their uncle Bobby's home. Initially, Rosie had been against the idea of coming there, scared that they'd put Bobby in harms way, but now that she was comfortably seated, reading up on some demon lore, she was feeling a whole lot better.

She had been about twelve years old when she had last seen her uncle Bobby, and she had almost forgotten how brilliant a hunter he was. He had books on every subject imaginable spread all around the house, stacked nearly to the ceiling. After explaining their situation, her and Sam had immediately grabbed a couple of books each, sitting down at Bobby's desk in hopes of finding a way to kill Meg.

Dean had taken a slightly more relaxed approach, sitting down on the couch and accepting a flask of whiskey, along with a flask of holy water, from their host. "Bobby, thanks for everything," he smiled, taking a sip of his drink. "Tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

"Nonsense," Bobby told him, "your daddy needs help."

"Well, yeah, but last time we saw you - " Dean shook his head, remembering the big argument that John and Bobby had had about eight years earlier. "I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot, cocked the shotgun and everything."

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Bobby shrugged. "John just has that effect on people."

"Yeah, I guess he does," Dean chuckled, taking another sip of whiskey.

"None of that matters now," Bobby shook his head, sitting down on the arm of the couch. He looked down at Dean before looking over at Sam and Rosie, who were busy bickering about something or other that they'd read. He almost couldn't believe how much they'd grown. "All that matters is that you get him back."

"Bobby, this book - " Sam looked up from the page. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Key of Solomon?" Bobby asked, walking over to Sam and sitting down on the corner of the desk. He took a sip of his whiskey, running his hand across the page. "It's the real deal, alright," he sighed, his eyes scanning over the section that Sam had been reading.

" ... and these, uh, these protective circles," Sam pointed out one of the pictures. It was a drawing of a pentagram, surrounded by a number of sigils that he didn't recognize and some words that he could only guess were Hebrew. "They really work?"

"Hell, yeah. You get a demon in, they're trapped. Powerless, " Bobby nodded, flipping through the pages to show them some of the more intricate demon traps. "It's like a Satanic roach motel," he explained.

"You should've been a poet, Bobby," Rosie chuckled, looking up at the hunter.

"Man, knows his stuff," Dean smiled, walking over to them.

"I'll tell you something else, too," Bobby continued, taking another sip of his whiskey. As much as he didn't want to dampen the mood, he knew he had to tell them: "This is some serious crap you kids stepped in," he sighed.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked. "How's that?"

"Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions," Bobby explained, "maybe four, tops. This year, I've heard of twenty seven so far. You get what I'm saying?" he looked at all three them individually, trying to bring home his point. "More and more demons are walking among us. A lot more."

Rosie looked down at her hands, silently wondering if that had anything to do with her abilities. If Bobby was right - If the number of demonic possessions had only recently started rising, then it could hardly be a coincidence.

"Do you know why?" Sam asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"No, but I know it's something big," Bobby sighed, walking over to the window to look out over his property. "A storm is coming ... and you kids, your daddy ... you are smack dab in the middle of it."

Just as Bobby turned back around to face them, his dog started to bark. At first, he didn't think much of it, but when the barking suddenly stopped, a loud whine ripping itself from the dog's throat, Bobby turned straight back to the window. "Something's wrong," he growled. Rumsfeld, the dog, was nowhere to be seen. Only the dog's chain was left, hanging broken on the fence.

"Is it her?" Rosie asked, jumping out of her chair.

"Has to be," Dean growled, walking over to the window to see for himself. As far as he could tell, the yard was empty, but he knew she had to be out there. He could feel it. He quickly closed the curtains, making sure she wouldn't be able to see them.

"Sam, quick, hand me some of that paint, and a brush," Rosie told her brother, pushing the desk over to the middle of the room and climbing on. "I think it's time to test out some ancient magic. Sorry about your ceiling, Bobby."

...

After she finished painting the pentagram on the ceiling, Rosie quickly pushed the desk back against the wall, and not a minute too soon either, as Meg suddenly burst through the door: "No more crap, okay?" she snarled, sauntering right over to Rosie. Her path was blocked by Sam, who protectively moved to stand in front of his sister.

Meanwhile, Dean walked up behind her, unscrewing the flask that Bobby had given him earlier, ready to melt her face off with some holy water. Meg could hear him coming, however, and sent him flying into a stack of books, knocking him out cold.

"I want the colt, Sam," Meg growled, following him and Rosie as they moved across the room. Little did she know, she was walking right into their trap. Or under it, technically. "I want the real colt," she repeated. "Right now."

"We don't have it on us," Sam lied. "We buried it."

"Didn't I say 'no more crap'? I swear - " Meg laughed, shaking her head. "After everything I heard about you Winchesters - I've got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First, daddy tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real deal with you chuckleheads. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually, we were counting on it," Dean smiled, walking up behind her. Meg turned to look at him, surprised to see that he was already back on his feet. She was even more surprised when she looked up, the red paint on the ceiling still fresh.

"Gotcha," Rosie winked at her.

...

"Where is he?" Dean asked, dangerously looming over Meg, his hands on the arm rests of the chair that they'd tied her to. It had been quite a struggle to get her down on the chair, let alone tie her up, but they had somehow managed.

"You just won't take 'dead' for an answer, will you?" Meg growled, glaring up at him.

"Where is he?" Rosie repeated, pushing Dean out of the way. She was getting sick and tired of the little mind games that Meg was playing, and she was trying her hardest not to physically lash out at her.

"Dead!" Meg repeated, getting right in Rosie's face, testing her patience. Bobby had explained that Meg was really just an innocent girl, possessed by the demon that had killed Caleb and taken her father. Hurting the demon, would mean hurting the girl, and Rosie trying to avoid doing just that.

"No, he's not! He's not dead! He can't be!" Dean shook his head, letting his emotions get the best of him. "What are you looking at?" he snapped at Sam, walking out of the room to try and collect himself.

"Keep reading," Rosie ordered Sam.

"He will be!" Meg growled, gritting her teeth as Sam read the exorcism rites.

"Wait!" Dean stormed back over to her. "What?"

"He's not dead - " Meg finally confessed. Her chair started to move around as she unsuccessfully tried to leave the body that she'd possessed. She hissed in pain as she reached the edge of the demon trap. " - but he will be after what we'll do to him."

At Dean's command, Sam started reading again, nervously looking over at Meg every few seconds. She was really starting to struggle, trying desperately to pull herself free from her binds. Her cries kept getting louder as Rosie and Dean continued to question her. It didn't take long before she cracked.

She told them that John was in Jefferson City, Missouri, but refused to tell them anything else. It was at that point that they realized the girl that she had possessed wasn't going to make it, blood streaming from the demon's nose, mouth, and ears, her bones cracking painfully with every move she made.

"Finish it," Dean growled at Sam. Meg protested loudly, insisting that they let her go, seeing as she'd told them the truth. Ignoring her pleas - and later her death threats - Sam completed the ritual. Black smoke escaped through the demon's mouth as she screamed in pain, disappearing through the floorboards.

"She's still alive," Dean called suddenly. Sam and Rosie looked up, only to see that the girl had lifted her head. She was barely breathing, but she was alive. Bobby rushed off to the kitchen to call and ambulance, while Sam and Dean hurried to untie Meg.

"Thank you," Meg wheezed, looking up at Dean.

"Shh, Shh," Dean tried to soothe her. If they were going to keep her alive, they'd have to make sure she moved as little as possible. After the fall she'd taken in Chicago, not to mention the pain they had inflicted on her, her body would be in bad shape. "Just take it easy, alright?"

"You," Meg gasped as Rosie walked into the room with some blankets and a bottle of water. She tried to get out of the chair, but Dean pushed her back. "You're one of them," she cried. "I saw you - "

"She's in shock," Rosie told her brother. "She doesn't know what she's talking about."

She felt bad, knowing that Meg - or, her vessel - had really seen her. Apparently, she had managed to temporarily drive the demon out of Meg back in Minnesota, allowing her to take control for a few seconds, which explained why she had looked so scared. After what Meg had seen, Rosie wasn't surprised that she thought that her to be possessed by a demon. Hell, she was almost starting to think so, herself.

"Come on," Dean told his sister. "Let's get her down."

They each grabbed one of Meg's shoulders, gently lifting her of the chair. "Sorry, sorry. I got you," Dean tried to calm her as she whimpered in pain. "I got you. It's okay." Her bones crunched unpleasantly as they lowered her to the floor. She was on the verge of passing out

"It's been a year," Meg wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

"Shh, just take it easy," Rosie told her, putting one of the blankets down over Meg's lower half. She tried to pour some water down her throat, but she refused. "It's okay," Rosie assured her. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I've been awake for some of it," Meg snapped at her, putting on a brave face. She pushed Rosie's hand away, spilling the water all over the floor. "I saw what you did. You're one of them, aren't you?"

"I - " Rosie hesitated. "I don't know what I am anymore."