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When Miriana arrived at Bobby's, she found that Sam and Dean had left, as they had received a tip off from a hunter friend of Bobby that demons were gathering in a small town outside of Minnesota.

"Dean said he was sorry, but they had to rush off and catch them before they disappeared," Bobby explained, handing Miriana an icy cold beer which she subsequently opened and took a long refreshing swig.

"Yeah, I understand," Miriana said with a sigh, "Demons are fickle bastards."

"He wanted me to fill you in about-"

"The apocalypse and everything, I know. Our angel friend appeared again," she said, before Bobby could launch into an unnecessary and long winded explanation.

"The angel told you?" Bobby asked, sounding thoroughly surprised.

Miriana gave a short laugh, "Don't sound so surprised Bobby. I'm not completely invisible to everyone except you and Sam and Dean."

Bobby held up his hands, "Look kid, I didn't mean that-"

Miriana cut him off again, "I know. I was only kidding."

Bobby took a long draught of beer, then leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"So angel boy's appearing to you too. You another one of God's warriors or something," Bobby questioned.

"No I don't think so," Miriana replied, "He didn't seem to have a good answer as to why he was there. Why he decided to speak to me."

"Maybe he's got a thing for you," Bobby suggested with a smirk, "You're not a bad lookin' girl, you know."

Miriana felt a blush spread up her cheeks, "Thanks, Bobby, but I highly doubt it." It's more like I've got a thing for him, she thought, although she would never admit it to Bobby.

"Well, you've gotta admit, havin' and angel perched on our shoulder is pretty damn useful."

"Dean certainly doesn't think so," mused Miriana.

"Yeah, he's just being pig headed," Bobby said with a sigh, "you know how stubborn he is."

"I understand why, though. I mean after everything that's happened. I'm not exactly the poster girl for the church and God, and everything, am I? I only have to believe in angels because I've had one stood in front of me."

Bobby nodded, "I know. I just wish he'd relax a little sometimes."

Miriana drained her beer in one long, final swig and put the empty bottle down on the kitchen table with a loud thud.

"I should probably get going soon," Miriana said. She didn't really want to leave; she had always found Bobby a comforting sort of person. He was uncomplicated and easy to talk to, and he was as close as an uncle to her.

"You can stay the night if you want. I've got a bed made up in the spare room," Bobby offered, but Miriana shook her head.

"No, I've got things to do. Thanks for the offer. And the beer," she added. She got to her feet and stretched her muscles, which were still aching faintly from her encounter with Seth's vengeful spirit. She picked up her car keys from the table and walked slowly to the front door, Bobby close behind her. Bobby patted her shoulder as she opened the door.

"You take care, kid. World's gettin' tough," Bobby said in a gruff voice. Just like Dean, he never found it easy to express his feelings. Miriana understood; she was no different.

"You too, Bobby," Miriana said quietly.

She opened the front door opened her car and clambered inside, waving to Bobby as she started the car. As she turned onto the highway outside Bobby's house, she tried very hard not to focus on the uncomfortable coil of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

***

It took Miriana several hours to reach the motel that Sam and Dean were staying at, and by the time she had pulled into the parking lot, the sky was a deep midnight blue. She could see Dean's Impala parked a few spaces down. Just as she was about to get out of the car, when she saw Sam's unmistakeably tall, broad shouldered figure slip out of a door halfway down the motel building. She waited for Dean to follow behind him, but no figure followed Sam's, and he shut the door behind him, casting furtive glances around him. Miriana had the strong feeling that he was up to something he shouldn't be; Sam rarely ever did anything without Dean, and she didn't think that he was just slipping out for a light night snack. She slunk down in her seat slightly, in case Sam cast a look in her direction and saw her watching him through the windshield of her car. But he didn't see he, and he appeared to be waiting for something, shifting from one foot to another. He didn't even seem to have a weapon with him, which was very unusual. It was very stupid of him to leave the motel he was staying in unarmed, what with all the demons after him and Dean. She was considering confronting him, but just as she placed her hand on the door handle, a car pulled into the parking lot and drew to a stop in front of Sam, who opened the door and folded his tall frame inside. The car, which Miriana recognized as a Mustang, was an obnoxious shade of yellow that was vivid even in the darkness, with black stripes running from the bonnet to the boot, and ad the air of a car that had been used often and rarely serviced, evidenced by the loud rattle of the engine. She couldn't see the person who was driving clearly except for a vague silhouette, but it looked like a woman, as far as Miriana could tell. The car turned in the lot and drove onto the road out that ran past the hotel. For a few short seconds, she struggled to make a decision; at first, she thought she should wake Dean and tell him that Sam had slipped off, but instead she made the choice to follow Sam and discover what he was doing. Her curiosity had been piqued, and by the time she had woken Dean, Sam and the woman in the car would be long gone. She started her car, and it pulled smoothly out the lot and onto the road. She deliberately drove a little slower than usual, so that Sam would not realized her was being followed. She had a feeling that her skulking around and following him would not go down well. At least there was no chance that Sam would hear her car, as unlike the battered in front, Mustang, her Mercedes was a new model, well cared for, and therefore a virtually silent drive.

As she followed behind them, careful to stay as hidden as possible, she felt a growing sense of unease, accompanied by a string of worrying questions. Why was Sam sneaking out in the middle of the night, without his brother? Who was the other person in the car with him? Did Dean know what he was doing? She had an answer to the last question at least: she very much doubted Dean was aware that his brother had left the motel, he hadn't taken the Impala either and this suggested to Miriana that he didn't want anyone to know he had left. Suddenly, the cryptic warning Seth had given her before his death sprang into her mind, and she felt a shiver race up her spine. Both Dean and she knew of Sam's powers, although neither of them understood them, or why he had been given them, and now she wondered if the months without his brother, when Miriana had not seen or spoken to him, had driven Sam into testing his powers. But no, it couldn't be that; after all, he had promised Dean he had not gone down that road, and he wouldn't lie. He had told her at Dean's grave all those months ago, promised that he would not delve into his powers. She had believed him wholeheartedly. However, the more she thought about it, the less she could convince herself that it hadn't just been lies he had fed her.

After about fifteen minutes, and several turns down dark roads, the Mustang came to a stop outside a run-down warehouse that loomed up out of the darkness. Miriana parked her car around the corner, underneath a sign that gave the name of the street, four twenty five Waterman. She climbed out of her car, shutting the door behind her as quietly as possible, hoping that Sam wouldn't hear her. She poked her head around the corner, to see Sam and the woman climb out of the Mustang and walk through the doors of the warehouse, which were hanging off their hinges, the wood chipped and the glass cracked. She slipped after them, treading as quietly as possible, and followed them through the battered doors. She found herself in the main room of the warehouse; the high windows were streaked with grime, so that only a little of the harsh orange light from the streetlamps filtered through the dirty glass. There was rubbish and debris strewn everywhere, pieces of broken machinery lying discarded around the room like rusted corpses. There was a metal grille at the front of the large room, and Miriana hid behind this, and she blended in well with the shadows due to the black leather jacket, black jeans and black boots. The woman flipped on a light inside the room, and a light bulb flared into life, casting a pool of harsh white light, and Miriana could see her features clearly.

She was pretty, with long flowing dark hair, dark eyes and full rosy lips, and she was dressed in jeans and a tight fitting top. Miriana couldn't shake the odd sense that she knew her from somewhere, but she couldn't think where. The woman brushed her arm against Sam's sleeve and murmured something that Miriana couldn't hear. When the woman stepped forwards and Sam stepped to one side, she saw something that made her heart jump with fear, and the hairs on her arm stand on end. The sense of trepidation she had felt in the car had increased tenfold.

There was a man bound to a chair with thick ropes in the centre of the room, his head lolling as if he was unconscious. Miriana had the strong urge to run out and stop Sam from whatever it was he was about to do, but she was felt frozen to the spot by some strange desire to see what was about to happen. The woman stood at the back of the chair, arms folded, her dark eyes flicking from Sam to the bound man in the chair very few seconds. Miriana glanced up to see an iron pentagram hanging above the chair, and when she looked at the floor, another pentagram was sprayed onto the floor in red paint. Demon. She wondered how long the demon had been bound within the devil's trap, as he had been in the warehouse as soon as Sam and the woman had entered, and how he had got there. Another shiver of fear passed over her; she pressed up against the grille a little harder, trying to see what was happening. Sam kicked the chair, and the figure raised his head blearily.

"Where's Lilith?" Sam questioned in a deadly quiet tone. The demon raised his eyes to Sam's, and Miriana saw them flicker a deep liquid black, drowning the pupil and iris.

"Kiss my ass!" he spat. Sam let out a breath and his face contorted with hatred.

"I'd watch myself if I were you," Sam retorted sharply. Why is Sam interrogating a demon without Dean? Miriana thought to herself, worried about the answer she might find.

"Why? 'Cos you're Sam Winchester, Mr. Big hero? And yet here you are, slutting around with some demon. Real hero," the demon hissed. Miriana's mind reeled, and she felt a burst of hot anger blossom in her chest. The dark haired woman was a demon, and Sam was sneaking out in the early hours of the morning with her like they were having a sordid affair. After every problem they had had with demons over the years, and here was Sam consorting with one.

"Shut your mouth!" Sam snapped. She could hear the anger and tension in his voice, saw his fist curl in agitation. The demon woman behind the chair shifted, her eyes on Sam's face, measuring his reaction.

"Tell me about those months without your brother. All the things you and this demon bitch do in the dark. Tell me hero," his voice mocking Sam with every word. Every line of Sam's face was alive with fury, his broad shoulders full of tension, his tightly clenched fists shaking at his sides. Then he lifted his hand, fingers outstretched and squeezed his eyes shut, his face screwed up in concentration. The demon bound to the chair began to choke, as if he was gagging on something stuck in his throat. Black smoke began to pour out of his mouth, gushing over his lips like black blood, coughing out the demonic spirit as if it were water. Sam made no sound, uttered no incantation, he simply held out his hand and the demon was being forced out the man's body, purged out like a poison. Miriana was rooted to the stop, unable to move, she was so stunned and shocked by what she saw. All she could think was, he promised me, he promised me he wouldn't...

The demon smoke cascade to the floor like a black fountain, sinking into the floor, fire flaring up in a circle around the chair, following the line of the pentagram etched onto the floor. The fire died down, the hot red light fading into darkness, the man slumping back into the chair. Miriana sagged back against the wall, breathing heavily as if she had just run a marathon, barely able to believe her eyes. She saw something flicker in the darkness; she looked across to see Dean pressed up against the grille like she was, watching the scene before, a mix of panic, anger and confusion in his eyes. He looked at her, his eyes searching for an answer in hers. Sam was checking the man's pulse, and the woman leaned over him, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

"How'd that feel?"she asked. Sam glanced up from untying the thick ropes around the man in the chair.

"Good, no more headaches!" Sam said excitedly, and Miriana was reminded forcibly of a young Sam bounding in after he had shot his first shotgun shell and hit the target. But she wasn't happy to hear the excitement in his tone after what he had done.

"None! That's good!" she exclaimed, as Sam pulled the ropes of the man.

"Hey, Hey, I got you, it's alright," he said to the man, who was coming round, muttering and gazing around the room groggily, on the verge of unconsciousness.

Dean moved at the other side of the room; he was clearly stepping out to face Sam, and Miriana followed him, crossing her arms across her chest. Sam's eyes fell on them, and a look of horror passed over his face, and he let go of the man and held up his hands, almost in a gesture of surrender. His green eyes were wide with anxiety.

"So, Dean began, stepping forwards into the light, his boots thumping loudly across the floor of the warehouse, "Anything you wanna tell me, Sam?"

Sam's eyes passed from Dean's furious face to Miriana's, perhaps hoping that she would understand, but the desperation in his eyes increased at Miriana's thunderous expression. There was no way she could understand any of what she had just seen.

"Hold on, okay, just let me ex-" Sam began to plead, but Dean cut across him.

"You say let me explain? You can explain this?" the fury in his voice was barely controlled, "Why don't you start with, who she is," he jerked a finger at the woman, "and what the hell is she doing here?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably, his eyes shifting from Miriana's face to Dean's, a pleading expression on his face. The dark haired woman gave an oddly predatory smile, showing off perfectly even, white teeth.

"Good to see you again Dean," she said, "Miriana," she inclined her head in Miriana's direction.

"Ruby? Is that Ruby?" Dean asked, but Miriana didn't need to hear the answer. The burst of anger she had felt before flared even hotter in her chest, and she clenched her fists so tight her nails dug deep crescents into her palms. She felt a flare of hatred accompany the anger at the sound of Ruby's name. She was nothing but a manipulative, cold heated demon, no better than the rest that crawled out of the pit every day, and she couldn't believe that Sam was still clinging to her. Miriana took a step forwards, her narrowed eyes focused on Ruby, and Sam held out a hand as if to stop her, but it was Dean's restraining hand on her upper arm that stopped her leaping on Ruby and tearing out her throat. There was a long second of silence, and then Dean rushed forwards, grabbing the knife from his belt and swinging it towards Ruby's chest. Ruby punched Dean hard in the side of his face and Dean staggered backwards; Miriana took the opportunity and smashed her fist into Ruby's face, and she was about to hit her again when Ruby gave a vicious punch to her stomach, and Miriana fell backwards onto the floor, winded.

"No, no stop, stop!" Sam was shouting, Dean had recovered from the punch and was still attempting to sink the knife into Ruby, the wickedly jagged blade glinting in the harsh light. Miriana tried to get to her feet, but Ruby's fist had felt like an iron bar, and she gasped desperately for air, clutching her throbbing stomach. When she looked up, she saw that Ruby had hold of Dean around his throat and had him pinned against the wall; Miriana struggled desperately against the crippling pain in her stomach to try and help Dean. Sam was still shouting, pleading with Ruby.

"No, Ruby, stop it!" Sam barked.

She gripped Dean tighter for a few seconds whilst he struggled to prize Ruby's fingers away from his throat, choking and trying to get air into his lungs. She glared at him for a little longer, then she released him, and he slid down the wall, retching and clutching at his bruised throat. Miriana managed to get to her feet, massaging her stomach, still aching from Ruby's powerful punch to her stomach and glanced at Sam, who was watching the scene unfold before him with wide eyes.

"Aren't you an obedient little bitch," Dean spat at Ruby, who merely glared at him in response. Suddenly, the man in the chair groaned and shifted in his chair, breathing heavily.

"Ruby! Ruby, he's hurt. Go!" Sam commanded. Ruby and Dean were still having glaring at each other, unveiled hatred in their eyes, but she turned away to the man in the chair and slung his arm over her shoulder and helped him to his feet.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Dean snapped, as Ruby headed towards the door supporting the man, who seemed close to unconsciousness.

"ER," she snapped back, "Unless you wanna go another round first?"

Dean said nothing, merely watched her go, passing through the front doors of the dilapidated warehouse. Miriana felt like running after her and repaying her for the crippling punch to her stomach, but she decided against it, as her temper, until she managed to her it under control, would only make the situation worse. They all stood, wrapped in a tense, angry silence for what felt like minutes, until Dean, with a furious glance in Sam's direction, strode out of the room without a word.

"Dean. Dean!" Sam called, but his brother didn't stop. Sam then turned to Miriana, holding out a placatory hand, his eyes begging for her to understand, but she shot him the filthiest look she could and swept past him.

"Miriana..." he called weakly, but she ignored him. She heard the grumble of the Impala's engine and saw the glare of the headlights as Dean pulled away from the pavement and drove off down the road. Ruby's beaten up Mustang was gone. No chance she could have a catfight, then. She heard Sam's footsteps behind her and felt him put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, and his hand dropped to his side, his face crestfallen.