A/N: Chapter revamped 2017-09-13. Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favs! It means a lot to me, and is very encouraging :)

Eight days had passed since Sam and Dean had rushed Jenna to the hospital with a severe head trauma. They had visited her often, though the visits were always hard on Dean who blamed himself for letting her get kidnapped by Crowley and get dragged into this mess in the first place. During their visits Sam sat by the side of her bed and talked to her in the hopes that maybe she could hear him. Along with news on their search for Malphas, he told her random bits of everyday life while Dean paced uncomfortably or stared out the window lost in his own mental anguish over what had happened. The last time the brothers had visited her, Jenna had still been in a coma. The next time they would go, she would be gone.

Back at the Men of Letters bunker Sam and Dean continued the painstakingly tedious search for Malphas. Something had changed. Where up until the last couple of days there had been nary a hint of his presence, suddenly demonic sign was abound. For a demon that didn't want to be found he was either being careless, bold, or intentionally letting his activity be seen. Every corner of the continent seemed to be a buzz. Yet with all the sign, they were no closer to locating him. It was, if anything, too much and they would need a miracle to try and sift through it all and narrow things down.

Sam had his head buried in a newspaper, while Dean scoured the internet on his laptop when suddenly there was a loud knock at the front door. Sam put down the newspaper and Dean stood and drew his sidearm. As Dean walked up the stairs and approached the door cautiously, Sam followed. It was unusual for them to get visitors. There weren't many people who knew of the bunker's location. There was Charlie, but she was in Oz, and there was Cas, but he just let himself in.

Sam's heart raced as Dean reached for the door handle and opened the door. On the other side was Crowley. The demon had his arms folded across his chest, and was tapping his polished black shoe impatiently on the ground. "Hello boys," he greeted them. "You know, you really should consider getting a bell," he told Dean.

Sam huffed and shook his head. The demon's presence here surprised and confused him. By the look on Dean's face, Sam suspected Crowley's unannounced visit had taken him by surprise just as much. "What are you doing here?" Dean grumbled.

Crowley toed the line at the entrance to the bunker, unable to cross due to the complex warding protecting the building. "Can't I stop in for a visit?" he asked teasingly.

"No," Sam and Dean answered in unison, their bodies blocking the door even though they both knew he could not cross.

Crowley placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me, boys," he replied overly-dramatically. "I thought we were friends."

"We are not friends," Sam responded quickly and without hesitation. There was loathing in his voice. The fact that once in a while Crowley proved useful didn't change the fact that he was a demon, and it didn't erase the things he had done. Crowley had exploited a loophole in Bobby's contract and refused to return his soul, which he stole away to Hell. In his quest for the demon tablet, he had gone back and started systematically killing the very people the hunters had saved. He had killed Kevin Tran's girlfriend and mother, and had kidnapped and tortured the prophet into translating the angel tablet for him. Crowley was a monster.

Dean hadn't budged from the doorway. "Now why don't you tell us why you're here," he demanded of Crowley. "This isn't a social call."

Heaving a great sigh, the demon rolled his eyes. "I have information about Malphas," he offered. The first thought through Sam's head was that it was a trap or a ploy. Nothing was ever quite as it seemed when it came to Crowley. There was no way that he would just show up at their doorstep and offer them something they needed if he wasn't getting something in return.

"Okay, so talk," Dean replied curtly.

Crowley raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, not having to speak to know what was on each other's mind. Crowley, couldn't be trusted but they had nothing else to go on. It would take them a lifetime, if not more, to sort through all of the sign and by then Malphas would be long gone. If Crowley had information, they should at least hear him out and see what he was after. "This had better be good," Dean muttered unhappily and Sam scratched away part of one of the wards, allowing Crowley to enter.

The three of them headed down to the strategy room. While Dean went and fetched a couple of beer for himself and Sam, Crowley paced around the table examining the world map which was littered with the location of all the current demon signs. It made Sam uneasy, having Crowley here perusing over all of their work, as if he were bared open and violated. Sometimes though, in their line of work, they had to work with the enemy. It didn't mean he had to like it.

When Dean returned, Crowley glanced up from the map and look at him affront. "Not going to offer a girl a drink?" he asked.

Dean handed Sam a beer and sank down into a chair, popping the lid off his own and took a long swig before answering. "Nope," he replied, shaking his head. Sam chuckled at the look of offense on the demon's face.

Crowley glared at the hunter. "You know Squirrel, you're a piss poor host," he grumbled.

"Don't care," Dean replied dismissively. Crowley huffed and snapped his fingers. A glass of Scotch appeared on the table in front of him and he sat down.

The two of them could bicker back and forth all day. "Look, you came here to tell us something," Sam interjected, before either could make another jab at the other. "What is it?"

Crowley sighed, clearly disappointed. It seemed the demon rather enjoyed their contemptuous banter. "In case you haven't noticed, Malphas is up to, well, a lot lately, to say the least," he told them. Sam and Dean nodded. Pinned on the map in the center of the table were the locations of all Malphas' suspected activity. A lot was an understatement if anything. The Prince of Hell seemed to have his meddling little hands in everything. "Well, wouldn't you like to know what it is?" Crowley asked. "To connect the dots, so to speak?"

"Yes, so why don't you just get to the point," Dean snapped impatiently.

Crowley went on to tell them what he had learned. Without access to the woman, Malphas was setting up for plan B: a multi-faceted strike to destabilize Earth. By targeting military bases, he planned to create chaos. Malphas would start World War III, but he wasn't going to stop there. The power grid, banks, hospitals, pharmaceutical companies, and more would all be his. As the world would fall apart, the human race would have no choice but to turn to him, and accept his help in return for their servitude.

"Do you have anything else?" Sam asked once the demon had stopped talking.

Crowley held out his empty palms. "Afraid that's all for now boys."

Dean stood up to dismiss him. "Okay then. I guess we're done here," he told him coolly. Sam let out a sigh of relief. Being near Crowley made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and made every muscle in his body tense until it hurt. However, Crowley stood but didn't leave. Sam noted that he looked rather like a lost puppy dog. Dean exhaled noisily and rolled his eyes. "What is it, Crowley?"

Crowley shifted his weight awkwardly, hands shoved into the pockets of his suit jacket. Sam cocked his head curiously to the side as he watched him. The demon always carried himself with such presence and self-confidence. "The woman…" Crowley asked tentatively. "have you heard anything?"

Sam's mouth gaped open for a moment, and glancing at his brother he saw his expression matched his own. "Get out!" Dean shouted, pointing at the door. Crowley disappeared and Sam and Dean were left shaking their heads at the spot the demon had occupied only moments before.

Kenneth and Anne James were ordinary people. They had been highschool sweethearts and married when Anne was eighteen and Kenneth was twenty two. Though they tried for years, Anne was eventually told by her doctor that she would not be able to bear children and she had given up. Eight years later, by some miracle, she found herself pregnant. After the nine months that followed, their little girl was born. They named her Jenna.

It was at a very early age that the parents had realized there was something different about their daughter. Once she was able to speak, Jenna told them about the things she saw. Horrible things. She told them about monsters, men with black eyes, and people filled with light.

Kenneth and Anne took Jenna to their family doctor, who referred them to a psychiatrist. Jenna was eventually diagnosed with schizophrenia, even though all of the doctors that consulted on her case agreed they had never before seen the illness present itself in someone so young. There was though no other reasonable explanation for the delusions and vivid hallucinations the young girl experienced.

Over the years, Jenna was prescribed a myriad of different medications that were supposed to help manage her illness. Though she was convinced she was crazy, nothing stopped her from seeing the demons and other creatures. All she could do was try to hide it the best she could, to try not to cause her parents any more pain and suffering.

Then she had met the Winchesters and been kidnapped by the very King of Hell, and everything had changed. The world, the real world, had opened up to her, and for once in her life things had begun to make sense. How on Earth was she supposed to go back to living a normal life as if nothing had happened.

"How have you been?" Kenneth asked, as the family sat down for their first dinner together in nearly a year.

Jenna pushed some peas around on her plate with her fork. "I've been… okay," she answered.

"We haven't heard from you in months," her father told her, as if she wasn't painfully aware of the worry they must have felt. "And then we get a call that you're in the hospital. That you'd been in a coma for eight days…."

Jenna put down her fork and looked up at him. He had not so much as touched the food on his plate and his face was contorted with worry, and confusion, and grief. Though he tried to keep the emotion from his voice, he failed miserably. A lump formed in the pit of Jenna's stomach. What could she possibly say to comfort him, to make this all okay.

"We went looking for you, you know," her mother, Anne, added. Her frail hands tugged at the corners of the cloth napkin on her lap. "We asked around, people who might have seen you…"

"I'm so sorry, mom. I should have called." All Jenna wanted to do was jump up, hug them both, and beg them not to worry about her. They had done more than enough worrying over the last twenty-eight years, and she would never forgive herself for the sleepless nights and grey hairs she had caused them.

"About a month ago we found a homeless man, he said he knew you," Anne told her. "He said the last time he saw you you were being chased by three men into an alley. He never saw you come out, and when he went to check, you were gone."

"Did they do this to you?" her father asked. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, dad, they didn't hurt me," Jenna answered. "I got away. I met these two guys... good, kind people. They helped me," she said of Sam and Dean, though she did not mention what happened after.

"Honey, what happened to you?" her mother sobbed. "Why were you in the hospital? Who did this to you?" The pitch of her voice kept getting higher and higher and her hands continued to fret with the napkin in her lap.

You would never believe me if I told you, Jenna thought to herself. "I… it's… it's complicated," she said not knowing what to tell them. WHat she did know was that this was why she kept her distance. This was why she stayed away. She couldn't bear to see them like this and know that she was the source of their suffering.

At the hospital Castiel had promised Dean that he would not tell Heaven where Jenna was. He had agreed to allow the woman to live for now and see what choice she would make. However he had known that neither Heaven nor Malphas would give up until they found her so he had burned Enochian sigils into her ribcage to conceal her from angels and demons alike, in case they learned her true identity. It was a move he hoped he did not regret.

Now he found himself once again in Heaven's war room. This time talking to Ingrid. Like Hannah, Ingrid and Castiel had history where they had fought on opposing sides, but also like Hannah, Ingrid was loyal to Heaven, and when Metatron revealed himself for what he truly was, she had done the right thing and helped to overthrow him. Castiel could not fault her for the choices she made when all she had ever done was what she thought was best for Heaven.

"There seems to be something to the intel you received from the Winchesters," Ingrid informed him, snapping Castiel out of the thoughts and the doubt he was drowning in.

Ingrid wore a smart-looking navy-blue power suit and a white blouse. Her dark, almost-black hair was let down, and flowed over her shoulders in loose waves. She was a low-ranking angel in intelligence, but one of the best analysts they had. He had put her in charge of analyzing information on Malphas' activities.

Ingrid pointed to a location on the large world map they had in the war room. "Here west of Fayetteville in North Carolina there have been a rash of livestock and pet mutilations, as well as unexplained and bloody deaths," she informed him. "The Fort Bragg military base is nearby. We have reason to believe that Malphas' demons have already infiltrated some high-ranking command."

Castiel nodded solemnly. If what Sam and Dean had told him was true, and it appeared as if it was, this was very, very bad. If Malphas's demons were possessing military command they would be in control of somebody very deadly weapons that could be used against their own people or to start World War Three.

"We have seen similar activity, here and here," Ingrid continued. "We have been looking at various points of interest in the vicinities to try and determine probable targets," she explained. "We believe he may be after the Clinton Power Station in Illinois, and possibly Celgene Corporation, they are a major biotech company located in Summit New Jersey."

"That makes sense if what Crowley told the Winchester's is true," Castiel noted. Wreak havoc and hold the human race hostage, trading them their continued existence for their eternal servitude. It was a plan of monumentous proportions, but it wasn't outside of the realm of possibilities. It looked as though the Prince of Hell was well on his way to lining everything up for his take over.

At the mention of the demon's name, Ingrid's body tensed. "I don't see how you can trust him. He's a demon, the King of Hell…"

"I don't," Castiel told her firmly. "But I do trust Sam and Dean. And what we see here," he gestured to the points on the same map she had been using, "only supports the theory." Ingrid nodded, but herexpression was one of dislike. "Keep searching and see what else you can find," Castiel told her. "We need an actual location where Malphas is hiding."

Ingrid nodded again. "On it," she assured him.

Castiel stood for a moment more, watching as she dove headfirst back into her work. Part of him wished he could just stay here and assist however he could on the hunt for Malphas, because on the other side of the war room sat Hannah, leading the search for The Thing That's Should Not Be. And Castiel had not only had her in his grasp and let her go, he had actively interfered with any attempt to locate her by burning the Enochian sigils into her ribs. If Hannah saw through his lies, any hope of his past sins being forgiven and being welcomed back in Heaven as Jehoel had promised would be squashed like a bug.

It had been a week since Jenna's parents had picked her up from the hospital. After the awkwardness of the initial evening, Kenneth and Anne seemed to have recognized that Jenna wasn't ready to talk about what had happened. All they told her, was that when she was ready, they would be there. How could she tell them though, when she knew they would never believe her.

The early morning news was playing on the TV when Jenna joined her parents in the living room. She sat down on the chocolate brown suede couch, and tucked her feet underneath her while she sipped at a hot cup of coffee.

Her mother sat on the other end an open novel in her hands. Judging by the cover it wasn't some trashy romance novel, Jenna thought, and a smile spread across her lips. Some things never changed. Many things never changed. Her dad sat, leaned back in the recliner, newspaper in his lap and coffee at husband side, just like he always had when she was a kid.

Anne looked up from her book and smiled a two her. "Good morning, sweetheart," she greeted.

"Good morning mom, dad," Jenna replied, smiling back. It had been so long, and she's hadn't realized just Howe much she had missed them, how much she had missed being a family until she had come back. Of course, any other time her 'illness' would have eventually driven her away as she tried to spare them any more suffering.

The voice of the newscaster droned in the background, and the warm fuzzy feeling of belonging was replaced by the dread that the thing she she saw would never let her stay and live a normal life.

Following the rash of cattle mutilations that started in Albion Nebraska, it appears as if copy cat criminals are popping up all around the country. Similar cases have been discovered near Fayetteville, North Carolina, Clinton, Illinois, and Summit New Jersey...

Jenna's attention disengaged from her parents and settled fully on the news program. A chill ran down her spine and she crossed her arms reflexively across her chest. Deep down in her gut, she knew it was Malphas. It had to be.

"Something wrong, honey?" Anne asked, her brow wrinkled as she regarded her daughter.

Jenna let out a heavy sigh. Everything was wrong. There was a cosmic battle brewing for Hell, Heaven and Earth, and here she was, hiding in her parent's living room trying to pretend like nothing was going on. "I just don't know what to do," she admitted.

Kenneth picked up the remote and turned the TV off, offering her his full attention. "Tell us what's going on. Let us help you," he encouraged her.

Jenna stared down at the coffe cup he held in her hands. "You couldn't possibly understand," she replied quietly.

"We're your parents," Kenneth reminded her. "We don't have to understand. We love you, and whatever it is, we will do whatever we can to help you."

"I made this deal. I, I didn't know what else to do. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But, I don't think I can do it," Jenna explained, choosing her words very carefully. "And now I don't know if the guy is even still alive, but if he is, I have to find him. If I don't something really, really bad is going to happen," she sobbed, surprised by the floodgates that had opened as she let her burdens spill out. How long had it been since she had someone to confide in.

Anne's face went ashen. Her frail hands clasped together in her lap and she stared at her daughter, and Jenna immediately regretted saying anything at all, but she had needed to. She needed to get there thoughts off her chest before they buried her alive and she suffocated on them. "Who have you gotten yourself tangled up with?" Her mother asked anxiously. "Is it a gang?" Jenna shook her head. "The mob?" Jenna shook her head again. "A loan shark?"

"No mom," Jenna told her, her voice slightly exasperated. "It's nothing like that."

"We'll go to the police," her dad told her. He was leaning intently forward in the recliner. "Whoever this guy is, we'll get you protection," he assured her with the confidence of someone who believed the world was exactly as he was told it was.

Jenna closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "You don't understand, the police can't help me."

"Don't be silly, of course they can," Anne insisted.

"No they can't. This isn't just some guy. This isn't just some regular deal, okay?" Jenna snapped, her voice harsher than she intended. The coffee in her cup nearly spilt as her hands shook. Jenna struggled to maintain her composure, but it was so hard. With everything that was going on in the world, and everything she knew now, and all of the doubts and uncertainties she was struggling with.

"What on earth do you mean?" Anne asked.

Jenna let out a long sigh, and closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the look on her parents' faces. "I traded my soul to the King of Hell. If I don't help him defeat this other demon who is trying to overthrow him, he gets my soul for all eternity." She waited, but her confession was met by silence. Finally she opened her eyes and peeked at her parents. Both stared at her with a stunned look on their faces, like deer caught in the headlights.

It was her mom that eventually spoke first. "Honey, listen to me… this is your illness. You're not well. You need help," she told her as she reached out to take her hand in her own.

Jenna pulled her hand away and tears pricked in the corner of her mother's eyes making Jenna feel even worse than she already did. "No. I'm not sick. Demons are real," she replied sternly. This was turning into a train wreck, but it was too late she'd already boarded and now she was picking up speed and spiraling out of control with it. All she could do now was hold on for dear life and see where it ended up. "You wanted to know where I've been, what happened to me. Well here you go. I'll tell you."

"Jenna…" Her father spoke softly as he stood and walked over to her.

"Those three guys that chased me into the alley were demons working for Malphas. He's a Prince of Hell." Once Jenna began talking, it was like a torrent. The words kept on flowing as she frantically recalled her tale. "The two guys that saved me, their names are Sam and Dean Winchester. They hunt monsters for a living. We were going back to their bunker, where we could be safe while we figured things out, but we stopped at this motel. The Creston."

"Wait, I know that name," Kenneth exclaimed. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head. "I saw that place on the news. There were three murders there."

"Yes. Malphas's demons followed us there," Jenna exclaimed, looking up hopeful that maybe somehow something would get through to them and they would understand. "But anyways, we were at the motel and I ran, quite literally, into Crowley. He's the King of Hell and he kidnapped me and teleported me to this mansion."

"He teleported you?" Kenneth asked incredulously, and Jenna knew her words weren't getting through. "Are you even listening to what you're saying? Jenna, you have to know this isn't real."

"I am, and I know how it sounds, but this is what happened," Jenna insisted, she just needed to get it out there before it swallowed her whole. One day they might realize she wasn't crazy. That day, she knew, would probably not be today but that didn't matter. "Crowley promised me my freedom in exchange for helping him defeat Malphas," Jenna continued her confession. "Problem being, if I backed out of the deal, he gets my soul. I didn't know what else to do, so I agreed."

Anne clasped Kenneth's hand in her own, and they gave each other a sad, knowing look. It was a look Jenna had seen so many times before. "I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner," her father told her. "That we didn't find you before your illness got worse."

"But we can get you help," Anne assured her.

"I'm not sick!" Jenna protested. "This is what happened. I made this deal with Crowley and then Malphas showed up at the mansion and attacked him," Jenna continued insistently. "I got in the middle and that's the last thing I remember before I woke up in the hospital. The doctors said I had a severe brain bleed from the head trauma." Turning her head, Jenna lifted a section of her straight red hair, a feature she got from her mother though her mother was now almost entirely grey. Underneath she revealed the row of stitches that closed the deep gash on the back of her head.

"You're confused. It's the head injury," Anne pleaded, squeezing her husband's hand tighter.

Jenna knew her parents were just trying to make sense of what she was saying. It was the same conclusion any reasonable person would come to, but it didn't mean they were right. "I'm not confused, mom. I know what happened. I know what I am now," Jenna told her unequivocally. "All the things I've seen, they're real. I can see creation. I can touch it. I am The Thing That Should Not Be. Crowley, he showed me what I can do. It is a gift, not a curse."

"Jenna, you're not well," Kenneth told her sternly.

"Please," Anne begged. "Let us call Dr. Ross and make an appointment for you."

"I'm not crazy! I don't need a psychiatrist," Jenna shouted, jumping to her feet. "Don't you get it? I was never crazy!"

Her mom held out her hand. "Honey please, calm down. If you could only hear yourself. All this nonsense about demons. They're not real."

There was no way she could make them understand. No matter what she said, she would still sound crazy. Jenna knew she couldn't stay, not anymore, and it broke her heart. "I'm sorry. I love you both so much, but I have to go," Jenna told them, tears in her eyes. "There is a war going on, not just for Hell, but for Heaven and Earth too. Like it or not, I'm a part of it now. I don't expect you to understand. I don't expect you to believe me. But, I can't keep running from what I am and from what I have to do."

Jenna rushed out the door and she didn't look back, because she couldn't bear to see her parents' tear-stained faces knowing that once again she was the one who had made them cry. Scrounging what change she had left, she caught a bus back towards the hospital. During one of their long evening chats Crowley had told her about reapers. They collected the souls of the dead and helped them cross over and get to where they were supposed to be. If anyone could get her into Hell, it would be a reaper.

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