SUMMARY: Objects of great supernatural existence and design can seem to have a mind of their own. The Colt is no different. It has a consciousness that extends no only to the gun itself but each individual bullet. Even into the shell casings left after a shot taken has some kind of existence. The Colt and final bullet is gone, but Dean clings almost desperately to the shell left over from his single shot that killed the Demon's son. John Winchester said that the Colt was made for a Hunter, like them but on horse back. Could the little life left in the shell casing send Dean and Sam into its place of origin to meet a throwback of those early days of Hunters, where the Moon and the Sun float in the sky side by side, all animals have a human voice and the first thing that Dean lays eyes on is a young woman with eyes the color of fresh blood and looks incredibly familiar.

DISCLAIMER: All characters and plot lines of "Supernatural" belong to their respective creators. Tuscarora and other major land features are existing parts of Nevada and belong to themselves while all characters and lay outs of such places and so on are completely fabricated by yours truly. Several different "spirits" and "gods" are based on Native American legend and creational stories, though they are also completely fictional.


Thanks to everyone for reviewing! I'm glad you guys like the story line, when I have time I can individually respond to the comments but right now thanks to all!


Like Us, But On Horse Back

"Not necessity, not desire - no, the love of power is the demon of men. Let them have everything - health, food, a place to live, entertainment - they are and remain unhappy and low-spirited: for the demon waits and waits and will be satisfied."
-
Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter Twelve: Definition, Explination, Fear, Submission, Pain and Apology.

"Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. There is much fear in you."

-Yoda

Dean stared at her for what seemed like a small eternity. He didn't realize that he was breathing deeper and more relaxed than he had in the last three days, hell probably longer than that. It could have been months since he last felt this calm. He couldn't tell that the blade Celia held against his throat had eased up, giving him room and lessening the threat all together.

He didn't notice his acceptance of this situation. The last few days had been foreign to him. Compassion, trust, acceptance without test; everything that Celia represented and did for them was beyond Dean's comprehension. It was like wearing someone else's skin; he knew it existed, knew it was something normal but couldn't manage to get the feeling of oddity shaken off.

With Celia's knife at his throat, his gun at hers; blood colored eyes glaring at him and horns splitting through her skull and the plain declaration that she was a god. This felt normal, it felt right and like he was finally getting his life back on track. Dean felt an unbridled joy rolling around in his heart. He mentally thanked Celia and what ever hell beast had placed her on this earth for her existence. He almost smiled.

He still felt the painful bite of betrayal. As much as he wouldn't admit it Dean had trusted himself and Sam into Celia's care. It hurt that she had 'betrayed' him by being what she said she was.

A scraping at the door and soft whines and growls assured him that the dogs were outside and unable to go for him for threatening their mistress.

"A god?" Dean asked, classic skeptic and Winchester Hunting charm in his voice. Dean scoffed, "You don't expect me to actually believe that bullshit. You're not a god."

"Ya know what, yer right. I'm a bit more of a commission, truth be told. 'The girl-child of the Wind born mortal to carry on his line when the time comes'. Roughly translated," Celia gave a bare shrug. "So if we're gonna be technical I guess as close as yer gonna get is a changelin'. 'God's over steppin' a little."

"Please. This isn't Shakespeare-"

"Ya know A Midsummer Night's Dream then?" Celia cut him off and raised an eyebrow at him. Dean gave her a look that said I was speaking. "Sorry, go on."

"Thanks." Dean snorted.

"Yer welcome."

Dean's face twisted, a disbelieving look on his face, "You're something else." He growled.

"'Cause I have manners? I was raised better'n than to interrupt someone and not apologize." Celia said proudly, she lifted her head slightly. "Anyway ya were talkin' 'bout Shakespeare." She urged him back to his monologue.

Dean narrowed his eyes, "You're not a god, not a 'changeling'. You're just some breed of demon or you're a person possessed by one. Who ever told you you were a god was trying to use you."

There was a silence for a second, then-

"May I speak?" Celia asked.

"What?"

"May I speak? I wasn't sure if ya were done talkin'. Hunters in positions like this have a habit of makin' long speeches. I don't want to interrupt ya twice in the same hour, that's bad form."

Dean looked absolutely shocked. That feeling of comfort, being back in the saddle as it were, was fading fast. "You know I'm a Hunter?"

Celia sighed, "Yeah. And Sam, too." Dean tensed at the mention of his brother.

"How?"

"Boy, ya think yer the only one come up here lookin' to carve a name outta my hide? I knew what ya were the second I laid eyes on ya, ya got the smell of one, its down deep in yer bones, in yer blood. Yer heart beats slower than normal men, when ya move its purposeful. Ya don't waste any energy in movin' more than ya have too, I can barely hear ya breathin' which with my ears is somethin' to be proud of. Ya got a hard look in yer eyes and ya think I wouldn't notice yer scarrin'?" Celia sighed with a raised eyebrow, "Dean ya all around scream predator. Yer a wolf. No, Sam's a wolf. Yer more like a bobcat or a wolverine. They're more dangerous than a wolf."

Celia hesitated, looking at him for a second.

"Yeah, I'd peg ya bobcat. Ya got that same lean look to ya." Celia assured him, Ya didn't used to, she thought privately.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean spat. "You've been sizing us both up this whole time!"

"No I've been tryin' to help ya this whole time. Just makin' an observation." Celia sighed, "Anyway, 'bout me being a demon. Yer only half right, I am possessed."

"But you're a self-admitted god. Gods can't be possessed." Dean mocked.

"Now, we just went over this. I'm a changelin' if it has a name. And when it happened I had barely a single breath of air, I was too young to even be called infant." She twitched, giving her head the barest of shakes. "Like I could shake that off then."

"You been in control of this girl for twenty years?" Dean spat, suddenly sure that an exorcism would kill the host behind the red eyes, if it wasn't already destroyed.

"Actually I'm twenty five going on twenty six. But if yer lookin' for black eyes and that creepy voice don't waste yer time. I'm in control, not the other way around. Yer probably lookin' at the only host that caged the demon instead of being rotted out. I'm fascinatin', aren't I?"

"I don't believe you for a heart beat." Dean snapped.

"I wish ya would." Celia said truthfully. That stopped Dean and he stood staring at her uncomprehending.

"What?"

"Dean, there are few individuals in the world that can appreciate what it takes and what sacrifices are made to put the monster on a chain and keep going. I've been fightin' this one for twenty five years, and yeah there's been a more than my share of stumbles on the road but I've done pretty damn good if I have to say. All he's ever gained on me is turnin' my hair and eyes red." Celia said, there was a sincerity and a pain in her voice, then she spoke as if an after thought, "And the horns, too."

"So you're telling me that you were commissioned by the god of the Wind to be born, then a demon possessed you and for the last quarter of a century you've been fighting it and winning for the most part while trying to eek out a 'normal' human existence as a cattle rancher in Nevada?" Dean summed up.

Celia thought for a second, considering his words.

"Wouldn't believe it myself but crudely put yes." Celia assured.

Dean almost burst out laughing, his green eyes hardening. "If that's true, man, sucks to be you."

"Mm hmm." Celia nodded slightly.

"What demon?"

Celia turned her head slightly and Dean nearly jumped out of his skin, the blade scraping across his throat.

"Sam!" Dean snapped.

Sam stood completely unarmed with the Rosie at his hip with her ears cocked. He looked unthreatening, unprepared and his face was written with belief.

"One of the first." Celia said at the slight skeptical look on Dean's face. "He saw the rise of the world and spat out lesser of his kind for millennia before he made the mistake of crossin' me."

"Does it have a name?" Sam asked stepping forward slowly.

"Shikoaka, the Big Dog, the Swallower." Celia said. A shadow passed across Sam's face and his head lifted, shoulders drooped and a shaky sigh passed his lips.

"Ya know him?" Celia asked quietly.

"I think you should start at the beginning." Sam said and he reached out taking the .45 and knife and set them on the table. Dean glared around at his brother and looked ready to reach for the gun and knife but Sam stared down his brother and Dean snorted, grumbled under his breath.

"Alright. Ya boys want any particular breed of pancake?" Celia asked, turning back to scoop up her mixing bowl and stir the batter inside, stepped over and turned on the griddle in between the four burners on the stove top. "'Cause I warn ya, I'm a chocolate chip and blueberry girl."

Dean grudgingly stuck with coffee, a few bites of a chocolate chip, blueberry pancake had been all he'd been able to take and he nursed the 'very weak' coffee that Celia had made especially for him. Which was the only way that Celia would allow him to have the drink at all. And she kept throw glances at him as if expecting him to vomit all over the table.

Sam was sitting cross legged in his chair across from Dean and Celia sat at the head of the table. They looked expectantly at Celia and Dean's eyes kept flicking to the gun and knife.

"Go on, Red." Sam urged, Celia nodded, chewing her forkful of pancake and swallowed a mouthful of fresh milk that she'd taken from one of the cows in the herd.

"Alright. Ya gonna believe me when I speak?" She asked looking between the brothers.

Sam nodded and glanced at Dean who had hardened. The elder Winchester received a sharp kick in the shin under the table and Dean nearly spilled his coffee. He growled as Sam and grunted an assent.

"Alright. Well what ya heard 'bout gods being immortal is bullshit. They can die just as quick as anyone else with a beatin' heart. They get sick all the time." Celia said.

"What gods are you talking about?" Sam asked, Celia cocked an eyebrow at him. "There's a lot of religions out there."

"Well Sam most of those are and extension of the true gods. They all have many names and shapes and spread out to thin over the world and minds of many. But most of those gods are fabricated from glimpses of the other. There's Wi'peta for fire, Uktena'mni for water, Hop'ojaja for wind, Inyan'makoce for earth, Sun, Moon and Ocean who are the generals of the Creator. Least ways that what my kin reasons and we'll go with that, it's gonna be confusin' enough as is. With me so far?"

Sam and Dean nodded.

"And they had a brother, Shikoaka, who was made from the nightmares and fears and hates that the Creator cast off because the Creator can't be bothered with that shit so he made it into a livin' animal and put it next to the others in the spirit world.Well they made the world together and there are a hundred and a half stories I could tell you about how this happened and that happened and if ya want ya can ask later." Celia sighed, rubbing her temples. "But movin' on, being made out of nothin' but discord Shikoaka hated the whole thing and reeked havoc when ever his brother's and sister's backs were turned. 'Cause ya know they're always cowards underneath. Well he crossed the line when the Big Four all found themselves mates with the sons and daughters of the four tribe Cheiftains of men. See 'cause the Moon and Ocean were already an item and the Sun was asexual."

Dean snorted a little into his coffee and Celia pressed on.

"Shikoaka decided to weddin' crash, but he couldn't do it himself. But one of the Chieftains didn't want to give up his daughter to the Wind so he helped get Shikoaka an invitation and in the doors. Well the Big Dog aligned himself with man and he tried to kill off the sons and daughters and pissed the hell out of his brothers and sisters and they literally tore him apart. And because it was man that had helped him they cast Shikoaka's natural evil on man to fester and give him the bad nature that led to war and hate and so on. And they locked Shikoaka's heart into the trunk of a massive tree and as long as it beats mortal man feels the pains of the curse. And the four gods go on and have their half blood babies and make lines for themselves in man's world and forget they even had a black sheep in the family until someone busted the heart out of the tree. Lot of speculation 'bout what happened but what the medicine men figure happened is Shikoaka used the ill will of men to get strong enough to start spittin' out true demons and corruptin' spirits. Everythin' that Hunters go for are indirect results of him, feel free to thank him, he gave ya yer jobs."

Dean and Sam narrowed their eyes bitterly but continued to listen in silence.

"But the Big Dog decided to make it his personal mission to kill off the blood lines of his brothers and sisters, especially Hopi'ojaja , who's consort was the daughter of the Chieftain that he blames for his misfortunes. So the gods have gotta do somethin' to keep themselves and their blood lines alive. 'Cause they have a bad habit of droppin' dead from time to time they use that mortal blood line, like an heir-ship, and every 'chosen' pup of that line gets a healthy dose of the soul of that particular god. It…warps the kid, gives them a view of the world that has been cultivated since the Sun rose first over the desert. It's not fair honestly," Celia looked down into her cup of coffee and stirred it slightly with a spoon, "Kid never gets a chance to be their own person, influenced in the womb. Whatever they could have been, whatever I could have been, snuffed out before seein' the light of day."

Celia was quiet for a second, pushed her plate of half eaten pancakes aside and sighed, then she pressed on.

"Well, bout twenty six years ago Hopi'ojaja's last in the blood line met with an end. No one really knows how, he just wasn't there anymore. So here's the Wind in a bind and needin' someone to carry on his blood. So he goes to the blood line and speaks to my father, Fell Northwind a Blackfoot Indian and my mother Kipcha Kuruk, a Pawnee-Nez Perce and tell 'em to go a head and start procreatin' and in nine months I'm good to hit the scene, bit of the Wind for a soul and everythin'."

Sam and Dean were a little taken aback by the bitter and dismissive attitude that Celia displayed for her own creation and birth.

"But here's where it gets complicated." Celia said. Dean rubbed a hand across his flush face.

"As if it wasn't already…"

"Hold onto yer britches. The Big Dog decided to cut Hopi'ojaja off at the pass and really do him some harm and finds me, kills of his host at the time and the first breath of air I take doesn't even have air in it. 'Course Shikoaka wasn't expectin' any kind of resistance but the best laid plans sometimes fail and he had himself in a bear trap before he could back out. The Wind tells me I was stronger because both of my parents were his descendants and I got a double dose of mojo. Medicine men tell me it's 'cause of being born under the Crow or 'cause I had a warriors blood from both my parents. One had the sand packed to tell me I was strong 'cause I going to live a life of pain and hardship and that the Creator took pity and touched me a little. Figures that the last one has been the closest to the nail head so far. In 'bout a week of my birth, green eyes turned blood red, black hair the same and two buds were pushin' at my skull. I had horns before I had a full head of hair." Celia drained her coffee in a draw and sighed, slumping down, crossing her fore arms and hiding her face through them to the table.

It was the most that Celia had ever spoken in one turn and it had been exhausting laying everything out for the Winchesters…a third time and she honestly never wanted to do it again.

The two brothers sat in silence, processing what she had related to them. The story seemed outlandish even for them and dug into obvious pains for the red eyed woman.

"Been fightin' him ever since." Celia muttered into the table top and gave a shaky sigh. "He likes givin' me nightmares, it's 'bout all he has the strength to do. I've just 'bout stripped him down to his bones. For me he doesn't seem to put up much of a fight anymore but…he is what he is…I know he's…I don't know…"

"Red?" Sam asked tentatively, and Celia lifted her head and looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"How did you get adopted into this family?"

Dean whipped around hard and looked at his brother, it had been the last thing that Dean had expected Sam to ask.

Celia swallowed heavily, "When I was a pup, barely two or three, there were prairie fires like the ones in the last few weeks and my home town and everyone of Windin' Tree, Nevada didn't make it. Caught us in the middle of the night. I got out just barely, rode my pony Blackbird across the river, kept going and didn't look back 'cause Fell told me to, wandered the desert and ran into nine year old Elijah Greer…by chance Sam…" Celia's face fell back into the table top. "I kind of followed him home."

"The same Blackbird that you were riding when you picked us up?" Sam asked, thinking of the buckskin horse.

"He wasn't even a yearlin' then, good mustang can live thirty years. He's in his bounds being twenty-two." Celia defended her favorite horse quietly then dropped her face back into the table.

There was silence again and the two brothers stared at Celia's red haired pony tail and the ram's horns. Dean couldn't help himself and reached out; he brushed his fingers lightly over the ridges of the left horn as of making sure it was real. Celia twitched but didn't pull away.

Sam and Dean each heaved a heavy sigh and looked at each other. It was an unspoken agreement that they were going to stay were they were at the table until a decision was reached.

Dean heaved a heavy sigh and brushed the back of his hand across his jaw line. "We'll exorcize it." He said resolutely.

Celia jerked her face up from the table and stared at him with startled eyes. "What?"

"Don't worry Red. It'll be easy, we are Hunters and we have done our fair share of exorcisms." Dean assured her, standing smoothly. "Sam-"

"Already on it." Sam rose to his feet and was starting for the door. Celia looked between them, horror struck her face.

"Yer serious." She muttered.

"I thought you knew about Hunters, we do this stuff." Dean sighed and lifted and eyebrow at her.

"Fuck no!" She lurched up and back, the chair she was sitting in pitched over and crashed to the floor with a rattle of wood. Celia scrambled back from them in a panic.

"Red?" Sam asked, freezing on his way to the door and the Impala.

"NO!" Celia looked terrified, the fear was down deep in her eyes. The blood color darkening so much they were burgundy, not black but burgundy. Dean had never seen someone so afraid, not even in mirror on those nights that he swallowed pill after pill and drank poison after poison.

Memories, phantom pains and excruciating terror ravaged through Celia without mercy.

Dean knew she was going to bolt before she even moved. He had a feeling that Sam wouldn't have been able to hold onto her and he knew that he didn't have the strength or stamina to chase her. He lunged at her before she took a step. It was oddly like catching a rabbit in mid leap. Celia yelped as Dean's arms crashed closed around her torso and yanked her back as she tried to lunge for the door. Celia stumbled and trashed in terror.

"NO! PLEASE! LET GO!" Celia begged, practically wailing. Dean planted himself, leaning back into his unnaturally low center of balance, adrenaline rushing through his veins and making it possible for him in his heat stricken state to over power her. Celia in her fear stricken cloud was unaware how easy it would have been to over power him. She only trashed and struggled lost in a fit of emotion and shocked out of her strength. But her world was reacting to her horror.

The already dreary sky was darkening, clouds churning into steel blue-gray, the temperature rose sharply, desert heat rushing up to the morning instead of waiting for mid-day and pushing into the house. Dean and Sam flashed looks at each other as the angry howl of wind tore into the surface of the land and ripped up dirt, dust and clay as if trying to start a sand storm. There was a rattling, hissing deep in the bowls of the house, the pipes rattled and water rushed up pouring out of the kitchen faucet and bubbling up from the drain in bare seconds the sink was full and the water spilling over onto the tiled floor.

Celia kicked out the table crashed over, the coffee mugs, plates of chocolate chip, blueberry pancakes plunged to the floor and shattered, the chairs pitched over and accompanied the sound of breaking ceramic with splintering wood. Sam stood unsure what to do, he had a feeling with the sound of scratching and whining at the door that if he stepped out side that it was possible he would be attacked by the two German shepherds if not all three dogs, he was unsure of Alamo had it in him to go for someone.

The more Celia struggled more she found that the cage of Dean's arms tighten, trapped against the elder Winchester's chest like an animal. She was sobbing now, fear she hadn't felt in years exploding behind her eyes, body racked with gut wrenching jerks and pains as memory after memory slammed into her. Somewhere deeply buried inside a monster dug its claw deeply into her and started to slash into the inside of Celia's soul.

"Sam!" Dean barked, breaking his brother out of his trance, Sam jumped his head jerking up and staring at Dean.

"Sam?" Celia gasped as if she'd forgotten he was there, she didn't realize the Winchesters were there. The thing trapping her was a phantom made of night mares, a wraith. It wasn't Dean. "SAM?! SAMMY HELP! PLEASE! Nanichawai Sam! Kai nasukkuse gizhaan napuisai! NANICHAWAI!" Celia trashed, begged, pleaded with Sam, wailing in terror. Sam was struck deep in his heart and chewed the bottom of his lip, unsure.

"Sam!" Dean barked.

"But Dean-"

"Sam we are helping her!" Dean barked, "Getting rid of this demon, it'll help her! Sam go!" The order made Sam swallowed thickly. He took a deep breath and shoved the screen door open, bowling two of the three dogs aside, Alamo lunged forward trying to push passed Sam and baring his teeth at the younger brother. The collie skidded as Sam swiftly shut the door and jogged over to the Impala, shading his face and eyes from kicked up dust and fighting the wind.

Celia went limp, all the strength went out of her she slumped down, collapsing against Dean's frame for support. Her chest and body jerking spasmodically in pain, tears and dry-heaves.

"Dean…Dean…Ahote…please…ya can't." Celia begged.

Dean felt a spike of pain in his chest. A deeply innate sorrow to see her distress, her fear. Dean loosened his grip just barely and eased her down to sit on the floor; he knelt behind her keeping her trapped against him. Celia showed no more signs of struggle, only pain. Dean pressed his elbow into her ribs to keep her still and lifted the hand of the same arm and gently brushed the back of his knuckles across her cheek.

"Red…Celia, breathe. We're trying to help you." Dean whispered reassuringly in her ear. "Just breathe." Dean had seen violence, denial and shock when it came to an exorcism. Even a spike of fear that was crowed out by the demon within, but he'd never seen such a rash and terrified reaction in his many experiences. Her terror seemed so complete, so pained. The calm and collective young woman that he'd grown somewhat accustomed to had splintered in a heart beat, shattering like a brick through a stained glass window. It disturbed him, startled his resolve, but if she was telling the truth the only way to get rid of Shikoaka or whatever demon she was fighting was exorcism. He was steady in that. They were helping her, the same way she had been and still was helping them; fighting off an illness though her case was more of a disease.

Dean inwardly and totally forgave her, the 'betrayal' he'd suffered earlier that morning blamed on the demon, not her. He felt suddenly assured that he had been right to trust her and all his caution and nervousness and anger plunged head first into attacking he demon and sending it to Hell, he disliked seeing her fear and tried to comfort her. Dean knew his crushing hold on her torso had at the very least had bruised ribs if not cracked or broken them. Dean stroked the back of his knuckles along her jaw in short, gentle movements; trying hard not to frighten or hurt her any more than he already had. The icy cool of his silver ring a shock between his heat stroke flushed skin and her fear and stress fever flesh.

Celia was following his commands, trying to breathe slowly but choking on sobs and gut wrenching coughs. He was unsure how to deal with an exorcism that the host was in charge. He was used to beating them senseless and tying them down. This was a more delicate situation, which was enough to make Dean nervous, it felt wrong when there was a real person pleading for you to stop instead of a demon trying to order you around and feed you lies about family members that had passed away.

That didn't change his conclusion of what was necessary to be done.

Dean spoke quietly in her ear.

"Stay calm Celia. What are you so afraid of?" Curiosity getting the better of him.

"Him…he'll…Ahote he'll kill ya…he killed the last…he'll kill Sammy…leave me alone…" She whimpered shivering and looking wild eyed into space.

"Celia we're trying to help, you. Do you understand that?"

"Ya think yer helpin' me…" Celia panted. Dean swallowed thickly at her tone and sighed.

"Dean?" Sam muttered, shoving Valentine back with his boot from the other side of the screen.

"What?"

"We have a problem."

"Problem solved." Dean sighed shakily, dusting off his hands.

Celia slumped back against the railroad tie fence post, her arms handcuffed around the thick wood, it was a gate post just outside the barn. A Devil's Trap practically dug out of the hard pack earth around her.

"Why'd ya have to tear up my yard?" She sighed, defeated and crossed her legs in the dirt.

"Dean if this demon is Shikoaka, if she's telling the truth this won't hold it back." Sam growled softly, rubbing his arm gingerly. He and Dean still sporting scratches from a scramble to lock the three dogs up, Sam pulled them one by one in the door and shutting them in different rooms. Buckshot was in the bathroom, Valentine in the mud room and Alamo in the bedroom Dean had taken over; the brothers could still hear the frantic barks and scratching of claws on wood.

Dean sighed, Sam had been shooting down his every attempt to contain Celia since Sam lifted the problem of just how strong (if it was it at all) this particular demon was. Dean looked down at a book at his feet Sam had pulled from the trunk; it was a sort of encyclopedia of monsters and spirits as a book got. It was opened to a page practically littered with Sam's short, neat scrawl. Like every page in every book that Sam owned he'd made notes in margins and between lines. Dean couldn't read some of the notes but written in dark, large letters at the top was 'Shikoaka'.

But for all the notes that had been made there seemed to be little that actually helped; if Sam had know he would be crossing the demon in the future he would have done better research, he'd just taken flippant notes when ever he crossed them in other research, just like every other monster in the particular book. An old college habit for future study that carried over in usefulness in the Hunter world.

"Sam, she'd tied with concentrated iron handcuffs around a railroad ties post with a ten foot diameter Devil's Trap." Dean said again. "With a rock salt pentagram because you wanted one."

"Dean-"

"Ce-Red, how deep does that post go?" Dean asked, tripping over her name and nickname, unsure what to call her now.

Celia sighed, "It's an eight foot post, two and a half feet are sunk in the ground in Nevada rock concrete, it's easier to get unwanted in-laws outta yer house." She dead panned tiredly and let her head fall back and stare up at the swirling and darkening clouds.

Dean quirked a tiny smile before it faded. Sam swallowed thickly.

"You're helpful." Sam tried quietly to reconnect, Celia had been air headed since her meltdown and though she had perfectly good reason to be upset Sam hated it and wanted to turn back time and start the whole morning over.

"I'm hopin' ya'll change yer minds. Yer good boys, I don't want to see ya dead…" Celia's attention drifted and she bowed her head, her chin tucking into her chest and she let out a shaky breath. "I don't want to live with that…"

Sam looked pleadingly at Dean who shrugged it off with a slight snort, though he felt uncertainty creeping up on him.

"Dean, in Dad's journal-"

"Sam!" Dean's patience finally snapping, "You already told me and I know you want to research but I'd rather stop this son of a bitch than look at web pages! Do you want to do this or not?!"

"No! I don't! I think this is the wrong way to do this." Sam snapped back. Written in their father's journal, alone on an other wise blank page was the inscription: Shikoaka – Avoid.

"Oh, c'mon Sam! She told us herself, it's a demon! How the hell else do we get rid of it?!" Dean barked back. the air cracked sharply, splitting and screaming and making Celia and the Winchesters flinch.

"Was that lightening?" Dean asked.

"Heat lightenin'." Celia corrected quietly. "Storms comin'. Bad one…" She threw back her head and sniffed a few times, like a hound dog scenting a fox trail. The Winchesters watched in silence.

"From the east, it's gonna be muddy for a few days…cain't tell if it'll start a fire…hope it doesn't."

"You can smell that?" Sam asked, looking at her like an exceptional bacteria doing tricks in a biology class.

"I have a good nose." She said curtly but not without the broken weariness in her words, "Makes bloodhounds look bad sometimes."

She gave up no more than that. Her silence made Sam shift nervously from his left foot to his right and back. It would have settled his stomach if he knew that was her natural state. But he had probably heard her speak more than Celia's own brother and it was a foreign thing to the younger Winchester. Sam turned the leather bound book around a few times in his hands, trying to put off actually opening it to find the Latin for the exorcism.

Dean growled, he really hated being the bad guy the whole time and snatched the book from his hands and started flipping through the pages.

"How are ya going to do it?" Celia suddenly broke the eerie quiet, Dean looked up to find himself looking her dead in her blood colored eyes.

"What?"

"I want to know which particular method ya plan to use." She stated without much more life than a half dead rabbit.

"Methods."

"If intend to use somethin' that someone else already tried maybe it'll save ya the trouble…if yer still keen to go on with it." Celia rasped tiredly and slid a little lower into the earth against the post. She uncrossed her legs and bent her knees up towards her chest.

"Are you telling me that you've been through this before?" Dean asked, his hands freezing on the page he'd just turned in the book.

"Three times." Celia muttered into her chest, twitching and giving and annoyed jerk when her hair got caught in the splinters of the wood post.

"Three?" Sam and Dean asked sharply. Celia nodded.

"The first time it was a true priest, the one before Cormac took over the flock." Celia's voice died after that. Dean and Sam stood waiting thickly, when no more came they stepped in.

Literally. Dean and Sam crossed the boarder rings of the Devil's Trap and crossed the ten feet to crouch, sitting back on their heels to study her. Their natural curiosity and assurance that Celia was immobilized pushing them to pry.

"And?" Sam prompted quietly.

"He was a mean bastard, I was nine, no ten; kidnapped me from Sunday class. Had given me the evil eye since the first day I walked in on hallowed ground. He just kept screamin' at me and smackin' me in the back of the head with a bible. Traded for a King James at one point, felt like a dictionary. I had a concussion by the time he was caught doin' it. Had to go to the hospital, my first CAT scan."

Dean and Sam looked at each other, as unsettling as it was they cast aside the first attempt. What the former Tuscaroaran priest had done was as far from an exorcism as a person got.

"The second time?" Sam said, she shifted, easing himself down to sit on his hip.

"A Hunter, name of Grant Wash or Walsh, somethin' like that." Celia sighed, "Stalked me like a wolf, confronted me once or twice before he cornered me. Didn't have a Devil's Trap, just tore me up until I couldn't breath, guy didn't have any kind of class or finesse. He was an animal, he was spittin' rites and prayers at me between kicks. I could feel my spine movin', twistin' before Jo-" She hesitated and swallowed, refraining from using John Winchester's name. But Dean and Sam both caught the slight trip in her words, "-before jerk got his own beatin'. Nathaniel and one of his buddies came lookin' for me and found the guy kickin' me in the guts. Wasn't much left when Eli finally got his go round at him."

"How old were you?" Sam prodded.

"Couple weeks off of fifteen." Celia sighed, "Spent my birthday in the hospital, it was a crappy one anyway. Didn't get anythin' really good, new saddle. It was alright."

"Who's Nathaniel and Eli?" Dean asked quietly, the names spiking a very faint memory.

"Nathaniel was my father and Elijah's my brother in the Greer family." Celia sighed. Dean cocked his head.

"Nathaniel Greer was your father?" Dean asked quietly, a shadow passing over his face.

"I don't want to talk 'bout that right now." Celia said curtly, rolling her head around to look up at him coldly. Dean blinked and immediately made the conclusion that Nathaniel Greer was dead and it was clear that Celia was embittered by it and unlike Sam who looked ready to press the matter and received an elbow in the gut from his elder brother he knew that he sure as hell hated it when he was being pressed about John's passing.

"And the third time?" Dean pressed, feeling a little queasy and dizzy set the leather bound book aside and eased himself down to sit directly in front of Celia; his mind spinning, almost blurring as it roared at him.

"The third one was a Hunter, too, two or three years ago. And he was fond of blood lettin'." Celia looked Dean dead in the eye then lifted her head and stretched her neck. At the base of her throat and extending down her chest nearly out of sight under her tank top was a distinct scar. Pale, pearl colored tissue was shaped like a Christian crucifix, the cross of the scar running from one collar bone to the other. Sam stared at the scarring like it was an offending snake and Dean only hardened.

"Saved myself on that one. He got damn close, had to run into the desert. Spent three days getting' myself back in order before I wasn't feral anymore. So I wouldn't hurt anyone." Celia looked around at Sam, "At least I wasn't in the hospital." She muttered as an after thought.

The Winchesters studied her in silence and Sam licked his lips to keep them from drying out.

"So if ya were plannin' anythin' like that they didn't work. All it did was scare me."

There was the reasoning for Celia's frantic reaction to the idea of an exorcism Dean thought and he didn't blame her for that.

"Red, why didn't those exorcisms work?" Sam asked, shooting a glance at Dean and hoping his elder brother was listening and soaking in what Celia was saying. If Sam couldn't discourage Dean then maybe Celia could.

"The Big Dog… I don't want to let him go." Celia rasped tiredly and sniffed quietly. The sky split over head, the heated air rumbling as another strike of heat lightening struck over the air.

"Why?" Sam pressed, her watched carefully as Dean's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, signs that the elder Winchester was thinking rapidly.

"'Cause if I'm stuck with him he cain't hurt anyone." She responded truthfully. "Ya lock a dangerous dog on a chain don't ya?"

"Or you euthanize it." Dean responded coldly. Celia and Dean locked eyes and they stared at each other, like they were trying to communicate without speaking. Neither wanted to break eye contact first.

"Dean. Please. Don't do this." Celia pleaded suddenly, and Sam had the distinct feeling that he had missed out on a conversation. Dean's head lifted and a small puff of air passed out of his nose. It seemed like he was acknowledging the fact that Celia had made it clear that he was in charge, it seemed sort of primal to Sam. Male over female, the latter submitting and looking for mercy when she found that the fight was useless.

It was animalistic.

"Dean." Sam pressed, vouching for Celia against his brother. Dean didn't even look at him, just locked his eyes on Celia.

"Dean there's no doubt, no denyin' that I'm…that he's capable of damage and I hope and swear that there's someone as steady as ya there to pull the trigger when that time comes but Dean why smack a dog across the muzzle until it goes for ya just to shoot it." Celia's voice hardened in her own defense, but there was fear in her eyes. She seemed to have a distinct feeling that she wasn't getting through.

Celia swallowed thickly, "I understand the obligation ya feel-"

"Do you?" Dean asked sharply, cutting across her.

Celia inhaled sharply, thickly. Understanding crossed the faces of the two brothers.

"You're a Hunter." Sam stated.

"I…" She looked ready to deny the accusation, the hard eyes of Sam and Dean bit into her, "No…I'm not a Hunter. I've had a few kills, local trouble, but I'm no Hunter."

"'More than one kill makes you a Hunter.'" Dean quoted shortly. "Nathaniel Greer said that."

Celia pressed back into the post and looked at Dean with as little emotion as possible.

"Ya knew him."

"No. I heard about him, saw him once or twice." Dean said, Sam was shooting looks from Dean to Celia and back again. "Good man, good Hunter. Dad talked about him a lot. Never understood why I never saw the man."

Ya did more than ya remember, Celia growled quietly to herself, then spoke "He was a police officer."

"Didn't stop him from taking a week off to go Hunting, did it?" Dean pressed.

Celia grit her teeth and growled softly, Sam had the distinct feeling that Dean was trying to get her in a rage, maybe to justify an exorcism. It was easier to tell yourself what you were doing was right when your subject was spitting curses and threats at you.

"Dean-"

"He trained you, I can tell. Probably trained your brother, too. He's a Marine right? Saw a picture, the kid with the pony tail, that's Elijah right?"

"Dean, stop." Sam ordered. Celia was grinding her teeth and hissing low in her throat.

"Elijah must be following footsteps, his dad was a Marine too. I know. He and our father were in the same company in Vietnam."

The ringing silence after the statement was only broken by Celia taking a pained deep breath.

"That's how Dad knew him, right?" Dean pressed.

Celia swallowed and looked him dead in the eye. "From what I've been told." She submitted quietly.

"You know us, don't you? Knew our dad?" Sam asked quietly. Celia tiredly nodded.

"Winchester." Celia nodded quietly. "And yer momma, too, but only just."

This hardened the elder brother to a point he looked ready to kill.

"You're full of shit, lying bitch." Dean snarled. Celia only looked him back in the eye and said nothing. "Just some goddamn demon trying to save its own skin." Dean snarled, snatched the book up and got to his feet, he tore through the pages, found what he was looking for and started barking a complicated rite in Latin.

Celia's heart seized, terrified. She felt pain sear up her spine and the monster in her chest snarled. She threw her head back, her skull slamming into the fence post and she muffled a painful wail gritting her teeth as the blossoms of pain exploded, flooding her system and choking her.

"DEAN! STOP!" Sam lunged back to his feet and tore the book out of his older brother's hands.

Celia let out a gasp of pained breath and choked coughing a few time and slumped down into the earth as the pain lessened.

"Jesus Christ." She panted.

"Dean do you honestly think that if Dad knew her, knew about her and there is no doubt that he did if he knew Nathaniel Greer well enough to go Hunting with him, even after Harvelle, do you honestly think that he wouldn't have done something?" Sam snapped in a low growl to his brother. "Especially if it was a demon?"

Dean struggled for an answer. "He let her slide because she'd a war buddy's kid."

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I don't believe it either." Dean muttered and rubbed a large hand across his face.

"Dean she's done nothing but help us, out of her way help us. It's not in any demon's nature to do that, not to the extent that she did. I believe her when she says that she's in control of this. Cut her loose." Sam made the last sentence a command. Dean narrowed his eyes at him then glanced sideways at Celia.

He felt a small spike of guilty pain flood his chest. Her head was hung and her eyes glazed and she was shivering violently. He'd done that to her, in a fit of rage because she admitted to know his mother. He'd hurt her. He felt a long buried surge of need to protect her.

Even from himself.

Dean smacked himself mentally, there was one way to have solved this from the beginning.

"Cristo!" He barked at her.

"Sonofabitch!" Sam snarled. "Why the hell don't we think of that first?!"

Celia only looked up blearily at Dean for a second then her head dropped back into her chest and she concentrated on breathing. There was no sign of flinch, black eyes or demon in any way shape form or fashion, either she wasn't possessed or she really was in control.

"Damnit." Dean snarled in his brother's face and matched grudgingly over to Celia, she saw him coming and cringed away from him as if Dean had his hand raised to strike her. Dean bit back another spike of guilt and swallowed thickly, kneeling down next to her.

"Red, Celia…I'm sorry." He reached around and swiftly unlocked the handcuffs, Celia pulled her hands into her lap and rubbed at her pained wrists and numbed hands. She looked at him suspiciously. Then in a blur punched his arm hard in the bicep. Dean yelped and toppled over, his skin and muscle stinging.

"Fuckin' jerk." Celia snarled at him and went back to rubbing her sore wrists. "Should make ya muck the stalls."

"Alright, I deserve that." Dean muttered rubbing his sore bicep; he lifted the tee shirt sleeve and saw the beginnings of a dark bruise blossoming.

Since when do I bruise easy? Dean thought to himself. He pushed himself to sit up and took a deep breath. Celia continued to massage her palms and the awkward silence lingering made Dean's skin crawl. Sam stayed back, letting his brother try and make amends, but the younger brother recognized the same pride in both of them.

It was hard for Celia to accept that she'd melted down in front of them, lost herself in terror enough to be cuffed around a fence post and badgered into spilling private details of her life.

It was hard for Dean to accept that he'd crossed a line, gone too far on an assumption and hurt Celia for the sake of it and churned his stomach to think how wrong he had been.

Sam knew from dealing with his brother that prideful and stubborn souls like that needed to do things at their own pace and couldn't be pushed or negotiated into acting fast; so he tried to not listen as they spoke to each other.

"Are you possessed by a demon?" Dean asked quietly.

"And I'm in control of him." Celia assured him. "It's a struggle, hard and everyday. But I've got him."

Dean nodded quietly and there was a second stretch of silence.

"Did you really know my Dad, my Mom?" Dean pressed.

Celia nodded.

"Why did you let us lie to you then? If you knew who we were."

Celia sighed a looked around, "I figured there was a reason why ya wanted to lie to me…"

"You didn't like it did you?"

Celia shook her head silently.

"I'm missing something, aren't I?" Dean pressed.

Celia swallowed thickly and bowed her head looking away.

"A lot of somethin'." She muttered.

"Tell me." Dean commanded gently.

Celia looked up sharply then shook her head, "Ya forgot for a reason. I cain't cross that, its not my place…"

Starting to come together, isn't it? Again Celia's a CHANGELING (not really a God just the great-great-great-great so on and so forth granddaughter of one) that is POSSESSED by a DEMON named SHIKOAKA and she in control of him (why? In chapters to come!), hope no one finds that a little to hard to swallow…the planet mary and all her woes…