One year ago things had been different.

Nora Phillips had been a 21 year old college student at Georgia State, majoring in Botany and living what could only be described as a very typical, very average life. She was blonde and pretty, she'd grown up in a firmly middle class family and had done all the things that were expected of a southern belle like cheerleading and dance team and pageants as a child. She'd always had a knack for science, though, and had an absolute love for plants and growing her own food, in high school she'd help charter a fairly popular town co-op, and so it wasn't a surprise when she'd applied for the Botany program at the state university and been accepted. Her parents had been happy, thrilled even. She had thrived away from home, dating frat boys and classmates, tailgating on the weekends, cheering for the football team on season, and being blissfully, blissfully unaware of the horrors of the outside world.

That all changed during spring break of that year.

Nora had chosen to drive home for the week, to surprise her parents and younger sister and indulge in some much needed R&R. She hadn't heard from anyone in a few weeks, but that was normal for Nora-to get involved in a heavy semester and fall of the grid while studying, so she had just assumed her parents had been giving her space. It was only about a three hour drive home, so she'd left rather late in the afternoon, the sky just beginning to dusk as she finally turned off the exit towards Briarton. Something had felt off. The town, normally small but bustling with locals, was abnormally quiet for a Friday evening. But not for lack of people, no they were all over the place, moving slowly, no one meeting her gaze as she drove slowly by, and Nora thought she'd been dreaming when she finally made eye contact with a man and sworn his eyes looked black. What am I thinking? She had tried to laugh it off to herself, even as the feeling of unease continued to follow her through the five minute drive to their cozy town home, more people passing her, all of them the same, looking dazed and black-eyed as if they'd been possessed. No one smiled, no one waved. Her dread grew when she'd passed what looked like a small family standing prone in front of their house, clothing covered in dark red splatters like….

"Blood?" Something was very wrong. She had turned into her driveway and found it silent, the lights off on the porch and in the home, no movement coming from inside although her father's trusty work car and mother's SUV were sitting in their usual spots in the driveway. She fought down bile as she hurried up the steps and to the door, which to her horror was cracked open, just enough for her to see a bloody foot sticking out from the foyer, purple nail polish still intact; her mother. She fought down a scream as she started to open the door farther only to have someone behind her reach around and slam it shut fast, forcing the cry she'd been holding in to spring forward. She whirled around, so lost in the scene and the shock that she'd never noticed another car parked across the street from her, much less the two men inside of it.

"You can't go in there." A deep, but kind voice had cut off her voice as the man had taken her arms in his hands, holding her firmly in place as he bent down to meet her tear filled eyes. When had she started crying? She didn't know, everything was hazy, a nightmare she was having a very hard time comprehending.

"Wh-what is this? What's going on?" The panic and despair in her question wasn't lost on the man, who grimaced slightly as he pulled her away from the door and down the steps, and she'd finally been able to get a good look at him and the other man who was in the driveway, a gun drawn and body tense, his eyes never even coming to her, trained around them. They were both tall, brawny, handsome, and they looked related but she couldn't be positive what she was looking at, nor did she really care at the moment either. "Are y'all police officers? What happened to my mom? Where's my dad? Where's Ellie?"

The man had taken a deep breath as he'd lead her away from the house and towards their car, the other man trailing behind him, still tense and still focused. "This is going to be a lot to explain."

That was the day her world had been turned upside down. The day she had learned about evil, about demons, about a whole other world that existed around her that she'd never known about. They had been nicer then, the two brothers, more patient, more kind. Briarton had been the first of the demon takeover, Nora one of the only ones spared from the fate that had befallen everyone else. They didn't know why it happened there first, only that it had and was now spreading slowly, like some kind of infection. They hadn't known what to do with Nora and the frightened girl couldn't be left on her own there, and so they'd offered to take her with them, temporarily, while they tried to figure out what was causing the infestation and how to stop it. If they could.

That had been a year ago.

The first month, when they hadn't known that the infestation was Lucifer's first battle on the world, there had been hope. Reports from other hunter's had come in that these town takeovers were happening in all the corners of the United States, all small, none with survivors. It was then that the brother's had deemed it unsafe to release the girl, no, she'd have to stay with them, she'd have to learn, she'd have to fight, or at the very least, be useful. They'd taken her back to the bunker they'd set up in some other small town she'd never heard of, where they trained with her while more and more reports came in of demon takeovers, of dead hunters, of dead angels, of dead humans. Slowly, the shift had come, the kindness and patience seeping away from the brothers as the world grew darker and more dangerous.

She had been useful to them when it came to things they didn't have time for, staying behind at the bunker to cook, to clean, to start gardens where she could spare time outside while they went out saving the world, always coming back a little more broken, a little more jaded. Over time, they had gotten her tattooed, the same sigil they bore themselves, teaching her to shoot a gun, teaching her to chant old Latin that would help bring people back from their demon forms, or to trap them so they could look for information, or gather intel. She was taken along with them to test her strength and abilities, and that was when they had shifted against her. No longer was she looked at as human, now she was a hunter. Now she was one of them.

It came with a cost, a brutal, violent cost.

Sometimes when Dean or Sam were inside of her, on top of her, behind her, sweaty and dirty and silent, she'd picture one of her old boyfriends, remembering how gentle their love making had been, remembering how they'd worshipped her, whispered sweet things to her, and it would help her through it. It was easier to take those moments over the beatings or the verbal lashings she often faced weekly, she could phase herself out of sex, pretend it wasn't her, pretend it wasn't him, pretend it wasn't them. She had never thought she would have to compare what assaults may take a top spot, but sex was sex, a release, a reprieve, and so she would moan along because she knew now that's what they liked and then she would have a break, at least for a night, sometimes for the rest of the week. They never talked about it, never acknowledged what they did to Nora, nor did she ever talk about it with them. They all just pretended that it was normal, that it wasn't forced, that it wasn't rape. Nora would try to remember how they had been those first few months together, and that would help too. Back then she could've been in love with Dean and his brooding intensity, or Sam and his kind eyes. Back then she could've given herself willingly to one of the handsome brother's and been happy, despite the horror of it all. But life didn't go that way, of course, why would it? She was as jaded and broken as they were. As the world was. Now it was just going through the motions, surviving.

Tonight, after she had washed away the blood, the dirt, the grime of the day away and she stood in front of the mirror naked, she could hardly believe she was the same person. The little bit of baby fat she'd held from the before was gone, replaced with muscle and bones from never quite eating enough but working her body so hard, bruises littering the once flawless skin from the fights, from the beatings, she never knew anymore. Her eyes looked dull, and sad, but it just made her feel tired again. She hardly reacted when he entered behind her, his own green eyes full of sorrow that mirrored her own, in the slightly steamed mirror, placing a hand over the hip that she had just ghosted her own fingers across. They didn't speak a word as he bent his head to ghost his lips across her neck, nor did she react as his fingers dipped lower, exploring the still wet skin of her body. She turned to face him, her slender fingers brushing against the sharp plane of his cheek, and she allowed him to move his lips to hers hungrily, needing and longing still unspoken. It's better than beatings, she reminded herself as he led her back to the threadbare bed in the small room. "Dean," she breathed out as he lowered her on her back, and he paused for just a moment, seemingly startled by the sound of her voice. "I'm sorry."

He surveyed her for only a moment before he was on top of her, bringing her thin wrists above her head with just one of his own large hands, pinning her in place before he entered her with a rough, quick thrust. "Mistakes are failure. Failure is death." He repeated her earlier lesson in that same gravel voice she could remember so vividly from their first day, before the thrusting became more hurried, one of his hands moving down to cup her cheek almost an exact copy of her earlier move, and he dipped his head down to capture her lips again, harder than before, a warning to stop talking. So she did. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to float away, to a place where these boys didn't exist and neither did the demons outside their walls, nor the demons inside them.