A/N (Hey guys! Once again, we do not own Supernatural, but Sophia is our bundle of p*ss and vinegar and we aren't afraid of pitching a hissy fit over her! Hope you enjoy this chapter!)
Ten minutes was too short a time for how long the drive seemed to feel.
The crunch of her tires on the gravel of the parking lot had her breaking from her thoughts, searching for the source of Angila's distress. The diner was full with the lunch time rush… wait.
Sophia flung the truck into park, slamming open the cherry red door, her hand resting on a gun at her hip. Something was most definitely wrong. The lights were off in the diner… in the middle of the day. Sophia, unsure of the issue at hand, stepped quickly, pushing the door of the diner open, squinting suddenly at the darkness. The blinds were all drawn, no light pouring through. She scrambled to grab the flashlight she always kept in her left pocket, flicking it on quickly. Her gun was primed and ready, the barrel of the Glock 26 staring out like a third eye.
Horror fell through her faster than water through a siv. In front of her was Angila, tied to one of the iron chairs at the bar. At her feet, the Sheriff lay, dead. Another body was at the edge of her flashlight and Sophia turned, a pained cry tearing from her lips. It was Jarry's wife. Caroline.
Soft cries brought her back to focusing on what she did best. Saving. Sophia took a step forward, and Angila began to shake her head sharply, her eyes wide and over her right shoulder muffled yells coming through the crude gag around her mouth. Instantly, Sophia began to turn, but she didn't get the chance.
Something hard struck her at the back of her head and she collapsed, unconscious.
Nausea was overwhelming as Sophia opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling as it spun. What did she drink?! This hangover was worse than the one when... Wait.
Sophia pulled against the ropes tying her to the chair. Adrenaline struck away the dizziness and sickness as she attempted to focus her eyes on the moving object in front of her. Not an object. Jared.
Coughing slightly, Sophia looked up at him in confusion. "Jared? What… Why are you…?"
His bright blue eyes flicked to black, and his voice, twisted from that calm tone and kindness, to masochistic, twisted anger. "He's not home anymore, Sophie."
Sophia growled. "Get out of him you son of a gun."
Sophia scrambled for an explanation. The diner was monster proof, demon proof! Her head spun with confusion and pain. Her gun was by the door, small and useless.
The demon tilted Jared's head until his neck cracked angrily. "Hm… let me think about it." The demon leaned forward, Jared's forehead inches from her own. "You know, I think I like this skin. Jared's got a family, doesn't he? Two little girls? A precious wife? Wouldn't it be just a charm if I went and visited them?"
Sophia leaned back, then threw her head forward, knocking her head against the demon's. Her head began to spin again as it fell away, cursing. Maybe headbutting when you had a concussion wasn't such a great idea. But it did the trick, getting him far enough away that she could continue to saw the ropes against a loose metal screw of the iron chair.
The demon in Jared began to laugh, a gravely, terrifying tone. "You know, you're a very paranoid person." His grin grew. "The salt? The demon traps? It's a tad overkill, don't you think?"
Sophia took a deep, shaking breath, attempting to see past the twirling of her vision, her hands still sawing. It was slow going. Too slow.
"How did you get into my diner." Her words were shaky with anger
He grinned widely, his teeth bloody. "It was really too simple. See, I possessed your little fry cook here, and just slipped right in. None the wiser." He grabbed Angila's face, his eyes sharp. "Little Angila here, all I had to do was ask her to dust this morning. One phone call. And the salt line above your door was gone! Then you come in here and lock me in this grease trap. Not very nice."
Angila whimpered, closing her eyes, tears pouring down her face, the gag muffling her cries.
Sophia tried to gain his attention again. If she could just get these ropes off, she knew she'd be able to subdue him and start the exorcism. As it was, she was at his mercy. One wrong word, and Sophia knew the demon would kill herself and Angila. The world spun, but she pushed that and the nausea aside, forcing her words to be strong. "Why are you here. What do you want?"
She figured there was no real rhyme or reason to his being here. She figured that, being a hunter, this sort of thing came with the job.
She figured wrong.
"I'm looking for a little Winchester. You seen one around here? Terrible sense of humor? A thing for pie?"
Sophia felt a grand sense of protection for her fellow hunter. So she told the truth. "I don't know anyone by that name." Well… she didn't. Dean never did give her his last name. But he did have a thing for pie...
The demon lunged forward, ripping her and the chair up. Sophia let a sharp gasp when the weight of the chair yanked at her arms. "Don't play games if you don't like losing, little Sophia."
Grunting from pain, Sophia prepared for the demon to pause, stuck in the trap that was etched into the base of the chair...
But he let loose, and the chair clanged back onto the floor. At her surprised, suddenly anxious expression, the demon gave a thick, sickening laugh. "You thought you could catch me in that tiny demon trap of yours? You thought wrong. Angila was easily persuaded. That demon trap is gone. Have any other tricks up your sleeve? No?" His grin disappeared and Sophia recognized the look in his eye. She sawed at the ropes with even more fervor.
"I know he was here. He's looking for the same person I am. Where did he say he was going?"
Sophia huffed in anger, "I don't know what you're talking about." The adrenaline was helping her focus. She needed these ropes off now.
The hit came out of nowhere, straight in her middle. Sophia didn't have time to tense of anything, and she took it, full force, to the sternum.
Sophia gagged, forcing herself not to do more than whimper, her eyes watering in pain. "What does… this have to do… with Angila?"
The demon laughed, a twisted expression taking up Jared's face. Sophia could hardly bare to watch that thing puppeting her friend. "Well, I've had my fair share of run ins with you hunters. And I'm a little short on time. So, if working on you for answers doesn't start working, I'm going to have to start getting creative." Sophia grimaced at the thought, becoming desperate. Yes, Angila could be a handful, but in the three weeks she had worked at the diner, Sophia had gained respect for her kind nature. She didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.
The demon picked up a silver fork from a knocked over tray. "How did you put it? 'Next time I won't miss?' You use that line on all the misbehaving boys. Especially for little Angie's sake."
Sophia couldn't contain the howl of pain as the demon jammed the fork into her mid thigh.
But it was a blessing in disguise.
Her yelp of pain became a growl of release when she managed to rip free of her bonds, the rope snapping. She shoved the demon backwards with her arms, tripping him with her feet so he fell. She turned desperately to Angila, yanking the gag from the girl's mouth, yelling with all she had, "Is there a demon trap still left in tact?!"
"Sophia, I'm scared. What… what's happening. Why is Jared like this?"
Sophia shook the girl with a tad more force than she meant. "Angila! Focus! Is there still a…."
She didn't get to finish before she felt her legs come out from under her, her head smacking into the ground sharply. The world was spinning, and she couldn't hear. There was too much ringing in her own head. She felt something sharp and she blinked, attempting to focus.
Sophia was lying on the ground next to the glass display case that was filled with dismembered pastries. She hadn't been there a moment ago… what... Glass was raining down on her, but she couldn't feel. She couldn't focus. There was too much rolling around in her head. It was like her mind was detached from her body and she couldn't get it to move.
Her entire body rebelled as she attempted to stand, bent double, unable to hold back the need to purge everything from her stomach. Her body coughed, but Sophia didn't feel much in control. The world was dipping and spinning sharply.
But one thing did register through the fog of her mind and that was the image of Angila, torn up from her bonds and being held with a knife to her throat.
If Sophia could be any more sick than she was in that moment, it would have been then.
Sophia's voice echoed dully in her ears, her words slightly slurred, but she pushed forward. "What… do you want."
"I want you to tell me where he went. Or the girl gets it." Sophia felt a cool sense of dread, and, worse, she felt she had no other choice.
"Okay. Alright. Just… Just put the knife…." Sophia paused as the demon in Jared tightened the blade against the girl's neck. Sophia swallowed, nodding slowly. "Okay… okay… He said... " Sophia swallowed back the revulsion she felt for telling this demon. "He said he was going to Stanford. That's all I know! I swear!"
The demon relaxed then, his smile widening to sickening proportions. "I believe you."
The knife slashed through the girl's throat and Sophia screamed, lunging for the gun beneath the counter, filled with bullets etched with demon traps. She didn't think, just shot, catching both the demon and, therefore, Jared straight in the chest.
With her breath breaking in shaking sobs, Sophia stumbled forward, the demon's screams echoing dully through her ears, as if she were under water. With shaking, slurred words, she began the exorcism. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Adiuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae perditionis venenum propinare. Go back to hell, you slimy rat."
And it did, the spirit of the angry demon rising up almost in slow motion, Jared dropping to the ground dead. Sophia gagged again, doubling over, her head making it near impossible to think.
But then she heard a sharp pop, like the sound of when a pilot light ignites.
Flames jumped forward, engulfing the kitchen, the heat near blistering and taking her breath away.
She stumbled, barely able to keep standing, her one thought being to get away. The fire was engulfing her diner, her way of life. And there was nothing she could do but stumble over the dead bodies of her friends and customers. Nothing she could do but fling open the broken, bent glass door of the diner. Nothing she could do but sob as she stumbled to her truck, the world spinning, and drive. She only made it a few miles down the road before she had to pull over, the motion of the truck paired with the spinning in her head causing her to double over retching, her body hanging out the window before she could manage to pull the stubborn door open. She threw up so hard that tears spilled down her face.
She coughed, forcing herself to focus. What came first. Something tugged at her fuzzy mind. Something important.
Sophia blinked hard, pulling herself up by the door of her car. Her phone sat, unharmed, on the seat of her truck. Her left leg nearly gave out from under her with the pain building up in it and the length of her back. But she couldn't focus on it. Her head spun too badly.
Something important…
She touched her phone, clicking through the numbers, looking for the name 'Bobby' but finding a different one. Dean. He was a hunter… Something about… that demon… was looking for… for… Dean's brother. Fear fell down Sophia's back like a bucket of cold water. Not his brother.
The phone began to give off the small tone that signified that it was connecting the call. It rang twice, before a voice answered, shouting over the song so he could be heard over... was that Thunderstruck?
"Yeah?" His voice was way too chipper.
Sophia blinked. What was she doing…?
"Who is this?" The music disappeared.
Oh… right. "Dean?"
There was a pause. "Sophie? I knew you'd call. Couldn't get enough of me?"
Sophia stumbled, managing to catch the edge of her seat, pulling herself into the truck. "Dean… your brother 's 'n dnfger." Her words slurred together
Concern pooled into Dean's tone. "Sophia? What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Taking a deep, shaking breath, Sophia whimpered, "Your brother… is… in danger, Dean."
"Sammy? Sophia, what are you talking about?" Dean's voice was strained.
Didn't he understand? "Demon…" His brother was in danger. Didn't he understand? His brother.
Dean's voice called from her phone, calling her back to attention. "A demon? Are you okay, Sophia?"
Sophia slurred her words again, shaking from the strain of talking. "Brother…" Tears slipped down her face. What she wouldn't do for her brother right now. Chrissy. Her Christopher.
"I'm on my way to Sam. Sophia, are you okay?" His voice snapped her back to reality. She was sitting in her truck. She turned the key in the ignition, the roar of the engine giving her some clarity.
"Yeah. I'm… okay. Hit my head. I'm going to Bobby's. Get to your brother... fast." Sophia hung up then, figuring she was more of a distraction than an asset when she felt like her head was screwed on backwards and upside down.
With a shaking hand, Sophia put the truck in gear, gunning the engine. She would have heard dim sirens in the background if it hadn't been for the ringing in her ears. It took everything in her not to just pull over and take a nap.
She took up a dim mantra in her head that said, Two hours. Bobby is two hours away.
There was very little in the way of traffic on her way towards her home away from home. Almost straight south. Bobby was there. Sophia kept her mind on target, her head spinning so sharply that she could barely manage anything more than changing gears and moving forward. It was on days like today that she cursed her love of standard transmissions.
It fluttered through her mind once or twice that it may not have been the best idea to drive in her condition. The fact that every once in a while, the entire world seemed to dip sideways wasn't helping her prognosis any. There was blood spilling over her jeans from the spot on her leg and if Sophia shifted too much, she would press glass further into her skin. She didn't feel it, though. No, her head was spinning much too fast for her to even think of pain.
All she could think of was getting to Bobby.
Bobby would know what to do.
Bobby was a fine friend of hers. Well, truly, he was more like an uncle or father than friend. When Sophia's brother had disappeared, Bobby had taken her under his wing. He had picked her up, got her sober, and set her back on her feet, telling her to 'do what you do best and save people.' And she had. Sophia had been saving lives since she could hold a gun. Nearly her whole life. It was a family business. It was a family demise.
Sophia coughed, a hand curling around her middle, before the engine began to rev a little too loudly and she changed gears, focusing on the road again. She just had to make it to Bobby's. A highway sign said Sioux Falls 30 miles. Thirty miles on a highway at 60 miles per hour. Thirty minutes to Bobby's house. Thirty minutes.
Sophia coughed again, shifting down. She could see the city lights in the distance. She needed to avoid main roads. Just get to Bobby's.
The path to his house was so well etched into her memory that Sophia didn't really have to think. She turned off the main road and onto a small off the way sort of road. She focused herself for one last turn, the sign, Singer Salvage Yard was the last thing she could see, as she let off the gas, put the truck into neutral, and rolled down his driveway.