"This is the cloud that swallows trust, this is the black that uncolors us, this is the face that you hide from, this is the mask that comes undone."
~ Metallica, Some Kind of Monster
"It all started and ended when I was born." Jane said, sitting down on the bed, already exhausted from thinking about how her newfound comrades might react.
"Started, because that was the day my father claims he realized how powerful I was and the possibilities that held for the family. Ended, because my family deemed me so precious that protection would mean isolation, and because my mother grew weak after having me, which meant that, sooner or later, I would have to take her place. After she had another child, she was bed ridden. I'd recently learned from a cousin that my father had decided to end her life himself, end her suffering. The only problem is, unless it is completely justified and or is the will of God, Baltan are forbidden to end the life of another of its kind. I guess that's when he first had contact with demons. I went to visit my mother's room and walked in on...on..."
Jane's hands came up to her face, pressing on her eyes to stop the tears that stung like the memory:
A dark room with a dark figure, the gleam of a dagger caught by the beams of light streaming in from the hallway, crimson branching over the white sheets from the head of the mattress where her mother lay, chest carved gruesomely, messily. She had watched in horror as the figure disappeared out the window. Desperately, she'd run to her mother's side, hands diving into the blood, prayers soaring from her lips as she tried to muster all the power in her tiny body to heal her mother. But she was already dead. There was sulphur on the windowsill, and she had grabbed a pinch and saved it in a capsule now hanging from her neck, but she would never tell anyone that.
Sam and Dean came to her side. Sam sat next to her, resting a hand on her back hesitantly, unsure of what to say. He looked up at Dean who stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed in distress. Jane's crying was clearly affecting him, and his nose crinkled up as he tried to think of a way to diverge the topic to something more positive, but Jane began speaking again before either brother had a chance to give any real comfort.
She cleared her throat, quickly wiping away the tears and straightening, "God, I'm sorry," she chuckled half-heartedly, sniffling, "I'm usually not like this...Anyway, like I was saying, that was when, I suspect, my father starting making...deals with devils. Souls kept disappearing too; people, monsters. It was subtle—surprisingly, Heaven never noticed, and if they did, they certainly weren't doing anything about it. My older brother, Joshua, he started acting a lot colder towards me. He started taking orders from our father, acting more and more obedient. He would accompany me on hunts and always watch me. Eventually, he became my guard, keeping me locked up in the main house and only being let out when my father commanded him. I tried to escape several times, but I never made it passed the gate. I think by the third time, Josh was just sick of me. This last time, the final time, I started an argument with him at dinner, excusing myself from the table, and once in the foyer, I bolted. He chased after me, and my father called two of his new goonies to help."
"But they weren't enough to stop you." Dean said with a smirk. Jane looked up at him and gave him a feeble half-smile of pride.
"Yeah."
"Wait," Sam said, "you said you were special; you're going to take your mother's place. Her place as what?"
"...As a leader." Her hands twisted in her lap as she sighed, "The Baltan have a council between all the clans. Sub-clans and The Origin. The Origin is the first clan, the strongest...my family. The leaders of each clan are one man and one woman, but the woman of The Origin is the 'alpha' of sorts. They are the judge; the mediator; the Head of the Council. My mom was that mediator, but after she died, the duty fell to my father since I was too young."
"Why would you run away from something like that? You could have power over your father and he wouldn't be able to hurt you anymore, right?"
"You would think so," Jane said defeatedly, "but because my father has been in the position for some time now, the rest of the leaders have grown to like him. He's kept me locked away and they must have been led to believe that I didn't want the responsibility...that I didn't deserve it. I...I lost my chance. Now there's rumors that they're looking to make someone else the replacement, but I can't imagine who. Josh is too weak, and my younger brother..." Her voice trailed off. She hadn't thought about her brother Jacob for a very long time, not since her father had told her he'd killed himself while he was shipped off to Boarding School. No specifics. No funeral (at least not one she was allowed to go to). She was given some of his ashes, but it never felt like enough.
"Now my father is looking for me. Those demonic sonsabitches are hunting me, and I guess it's all because he lost his favorite weapon and wants it back. But I don't see why I should help him. I'm not his toy, and he's done nothing but go against the objective we were created to do."
"He's your father, Jane..." Sam began.
"Sammy." Dean said. Sam looked up at his brother, who shook his head.
"Alright, well if that's how you feel, you can stay with us for the time being. We've gotta figure out how to defeat this ancient "thing" before Crowley throws another fit." Dean said, eyeing the blood stain on the rug as he gathered their things. Sam followed suit, telling Dean he'll go borrow a car from the Cat Sithes and go find the Impala.
As they walked out of the room, Jane tugged at Dean's shirt, making him stop and turn towards her. Her face was serious, but her eyes were filled with emotion, a mix of hope and thanks and hurt. He looked back at her, contrarily, in confusion and concern. Was she going to start crying again?
"Dean?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Thank you." She blushed as the words passed her lips, like a sacred whisper. It was filled with so much gratitude. Dean looked at her, he really looked at her. Her big, hazel eyes; her short auburn hair framing her face, her lips parted ever so slightly as she anticipated a reply; her shoulders back. She had a faint constellation of freckles that twinkled over the bridge of her nose and faded onto her cheek bones. He blinked, his mouth opening and closing. Then he nodded, not pulling his gaze from hers.
A ghost of a smile and she was walking past him, out into the hall with two backpacks lugged over each shoulder.
It was early morning when Sam returned in the Impala. There was a heaviness that settled on each of their minds like the fog that rolled in over the hills. It filtered through the trees, their branches blurred from view below. The light of the arriving dawn shone down on the driveway and glinted off Baby as Dean drove them away from the inn. Jane sat in the back seat, her head back and eyes closed, listening to the hum of the engine and letting it lull her to sleep.
Sam glanced back and smiled, happy to see that their new comrade was finally at ease, even if only for a short while.
"She asleep?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Yeah. Dean, what are we going to do about this monster that has no name? It sounds so ridiculous, and you and I both have had our share of ridiculous."
"You can say that again. And what's with this whole 'no name' business, anyway? You'd think this thing was Voldemort or something." Dean scoffed. His green eyes squinted as speckles of sunlight distorted by the fog hit the windshield.
"You got me." Sam replied with a shrug.
"Well, all I know is that we have to stop this thing. If what Crowley said is true, then we're in for...WHAT THE HELL?!"
The impala swerved to the side, but the body still clipped the windshield. Hard. It crashed almost all the way through, and Jane was flung in the back seat, colliding into the side door. The impala skidded in the same direction, the horrifying screech of rubber on asphalt trying with all its might to cease movement. Jane was now struggling to gain balance behind Dean who was pinned in the driver's seat by the headless corpse of the male Cat Sithe. The inn keeper had been stabbed in the chest repeatedly and quickly. The pleasurable afterthought of a morbid job.
Sam was on the other side of the car in the passenger seat still. Shards of the windshield had left cuts on his face, and he squinted one eye as he grimaced. It must have been injured as well. His other was open wide in horror as the car kept dangerously moving. Jane tried to battle the momentum but it was no use. She looked behind her past the back seat and down the open road leading to the inn. A figure in a black suit and dark glasses stood there, legs shoulder width apart, hands at his sides, just staring back at her and the car. The second she looked back, there he was again, now feet away from the impala. He crouched, holding out a fist.
The force of a battering ram colliding with metal, and they were airborne. Just as quickly as the impala had left the ground, it came crashing back, now tumbling over...and over...and over...
Then everything ceased. Like all sound had escaped the atmosphere. Even the usual ringing that accompanies one's ears after a disaster had left. Jane could only see darkness, then she opened her eyes. Painfully. Barely...but they were open. What they saw was unbelievable, and relieving. She had been laid gently across the pavement, side by side with Sam and Dean. She could hear them breathing faintly. She turned her head, starting to feel her body already reinvigorating itself, and stared up the road. Her bones ached as she tried to sit up, and she peered over Dean's chest slowly rising and falling. He had a large gash above his left eyebrow, as well as a few smaller cuts from the shards of wind shield. His jaw looked slightly swollen—she was sure a bruise would eventually form there. A dark, sticky blob had stained his shirt over his stomach.
She made a move to touch his face, but then she heard voices. Pulling her attention away were two men in black. They were passing threats with a trench coat-clad angel. All three were brandishing weapons. Castiel's angel blade caught the sunlight cutting through a break in the thick foliage above. Jane squinted at the scene before her, looking around at the rest of the world. The impala lay in a heap on the side of the road, its windows obliterated and doors crushed. She glanced over at Sam, who was in the same shape as Dean, his eye puffed up around his cut. Sticky, drying blood was messily painted down his cheek.
The standoff between the celestial and devilish beings continued, and their rising voices snapped the tension between them. They went at it, one on two. Jane panicked, watching helplessly as she felt life finally return to her legs. She padded her pockets, but her own knife was not there. She'd left it in her bag...in the car. She frantically searched the Winchesters, finding a demon blade in Dean's jacket.
"I guess this will have to do." Jane croaked as she stood. She huffed and stepped over the older Winchester, limping to Castiel's aid as fast as her legs would allow. With each step, her vision became clearer and her anger burned hotter. She hadn't realized it, but her eyes had turned gold now. Her hazel had been swallowed up by the deep color, her irises like two small flowers floating in the middle of twin pools.
Castiel glanced back at her for a split second, "Jane, you are hurt. Stay out of this fight."
"I'm afraid she's already in it." An all too familiar voice growled. A knife came to her throat.
"Josh." Jane growled.
A grunt came from one of the demons as Castiel stabbed him in the chest. His bones sparked and burned under his vessel's skin as his dark eyes flashed for the final time.
"YOLANDO!" The other called, lunging at Cas in pure rage. Castiel maneuvered to the side, grabbing the demon's arm and snapping it without hesitation.
The demon cried out from the pain, "So, you're planning to break every last bone in this poor man's body?" He spat at Cas's shoes, which only angered the angel more. Without responding, he plunged his blade through the demon's throat.
"That should be a good enough answer." He said, dropping the limp body.
"Cas..." Jane choked out, grabbing at Josh's hands and trying to find air for her lungs. Castiel took a step forward, his piercing blue eyes roaming over the knife held to her throat before locking with hers. He nodded at her and disappeared.
"Ha," Josh laughed, huffing from the effort he was exerting on his sister. Like Jane had said before. He was weak.
"Looks like your little friend got scared and flew away." Josh whispered in her ear triumphantly.
Jane made an effort to laugh but ended up with a horrid cough, "You are so..." She struggled, "S-s-stupid!"
Hands clamped onto Josh's scrawny shoulders, surprising him and pulling him back into Cas. Josh failed to let go, but his grip loosened enough for Jane to breath. She grabbed his arm and bit down. Hard. Josh yelped, gold slowly pouring into his eyes. Jane didn't even have to see them to know.
"Shït Castiel. You have to do it now!"
"But Jane..."
"Do it NOW." Cas flipped the Angel blade up in his hand and thrusted it forward, so deep it pierced through both Davidsons. Jane coughed up blood, but Josh got the brunt of it. The gold disappeared and they both fell off the knife like Cas was peeling meat off a skewer. A Baltan kabob. Jane fell to her knees and scrambled out of the way of her brother's unconscious body. She knew the lull wouldn't last. She scanned the road frantically, her eyes landing on one of the former demon's weapons. She crawled over, prying it from a hand frozen by death. Castiel kept his gaze fixed on Josh, waiting for him to wake.
The weapon was yet another one of the Baltan's precious knives. Jane couldn't believe it. They were so hard to make, and yet her father seemed to be mass-producing them, just handing them out to his demonic lackeys. This one was also crafted less elegantly, with a jagged blade that measured almost from her elbow to the tips of her fingers. Someone powerful must be working for him, she figured. What she couldn't understand is why Heaven hadn't taken action yet.
With the weapon grasped tightly in her hand, she limped back to Castiel, only a few feet, although it felt like a mile. Her other hand rested on her back where the Angel blade had pierced her. She could feel the warm liquid dripping and soaking through her shirt and into her palm, but she continued on. Her expression sent a pang of worry through Cas. No expression showed on her face. Her eyes glowed like fire. Her knuckles now strained white from gripping the massive Baltan knife.
Josh gasped awake at Castiel's feet. Jane stood, looking down at him with the same monotonous glare. Castiel looked at her. Her eyes weren't gold. She was completely in control of what she was doing.
"Jane." Castiel said sternly. All the noise from the birds and the distant cars and even the wind in the trees seemed to cease around them, like they were standing in some kind of vacuum. She dropped to her knees, her eyes fixed upon her brother, now gulping air with urgency as he gripped his chest. The moment he met her eyes, he lunged. A shot rang out and he fell to the ground again, cursing and gasping, his hands grabbing at his bloodied clothes trying to find the bullet. Jane still remained unfazed.
Castiel pulled his eyes from the red puddle that now spread out on the asphalt. He saw Dean, on his knees, still holding up the gun he'd found in his back pocket. He stared back gravely, his eyes drifting from the angel's to Jane, resting on Josh. There was no reason he could think of to stop her. All he saw was a monster trying to kill his friend. A monster who had been tainted by the evil ways of demons. A monster that threatened Jane's life. He dropped the gun and sat down with a groan, his head aching. He glanced behind him at Sam, who still lay unconscious on the road. His chest was rising and falling, faintly but steadily. He would be fine.
"Any last words, brother?" Jane asked, pity now coloring her tone.
He chuckled wearily, rolling onto his back in defeat and staring up at the trees.
"You'll always be," he coughed, the nauseating squish of blood in his throat, "Father's little bïtçh."
"No, Josh. You will. You have been for a long time. I'm sorry it had to end up like this."
"Just do what...what you have to..." He coughed again.
"You don't have to die you know. We are family after..."
"Fûçk you Jane. Fûçk you and your twisted fantasy about our family." Josh said more clearly. His body was beginning to heal.
"We are...broken. We can't be fixed. Father...Tobias is the leader. He knows what's best and whoever defies him...they end up like you. Always running for your life. If you don't k-k-kill me, he will."
"Josh, I..."
"Just DO IT JANE!" Josh yelled, catching her off guard. He shot out his arms, grabbing her and pulling her to his chest in an embrace, the blade in her hand burying into his chest to the hilt.
"Holy shït." Dean muttered, watching with wide eyes.
"J-J-J..." Josh sputtered before letting go and falling back.
"JOSH!" Jane screamed, unable to move.
"J-J-J...Jacob. He's...he's coming for you next Jane...Run."
And death overtook him.