I do not own Supernatural or related creations made by the SP Crew.

Time became hard to gauge after hunters began to spread the word that someone was helping hunters with lore, supplies, leads, and free cookies. There were some hunters who only called for cookies, I managed to get info from them in exchange.

Shockingly Crowley was very pleased with the development of my reputation among independent hunters, It was generating new leads for him all the time. At least that is what he told me, in fact, Crowley was telling me a lot more as he was stopping by more often.

He said that he wanted to see more progress from my demon related abilities. So I began to, for a lack of a better phrase, be trained by Crowley everyday. It was not the empowering training montage movies had led me to expect.

First off, Crowley had decided that I needed to physically train my body, the human way. So, he was there every morning at the ass crack of dawn to motivate me with a bucket of ice water. The first morning he smiled as I coughed and sputtered before telling me that he would consider any future lack of clothing to be an invitation. I was fairly certain he was joking, but I still got pajamas before the day was out.

Secondly, for some reason Crowley had decided to get me a personal trainer. He went and found the most cheerful and enthusiastic person he could find. This trainer, Greg, greeted me cheerfully every morning as he kept me from caffeine, soda, and anything else he deemed "unhealthy." I was not fond of Greg.

He was good at his job, he was even formally teaching me hand to hand combat. Apparently, Crowley had told him that I had been rescued from human trafficking and was terrified of not being able to defend myself. He thought Crowley was a saint. I supposed it helped his saintly image that his royalness could not keep a straight face in Greg's presence. The bastard just couldn't stop smiling.

Honestly, it was a bit amusing. His underlings would show up to keep him apprised of various things, see him sporting a wide smile, and would almost immediately look like they just shat themselves.

I couldn't blame them, there was something so inherently wrong about a cheerful looking Crowley. Despite the fact that he was there smiling, everyday for months, I never did get used to the sight. Neither did the demons. Castiel noticed and spent an hour asking me if I was sure I didn't need to be rescued, this only served to make Crowley's already wide smile even wider.

On top of the physical training, I was also still taking phone calls from hunters. I decided to invest in a wireless headset and kept my phone on me at all times, sometimes calls would come at awkward moments and I was sure that Greg could be heard cheerfully advising me that my form was wrong in the background.

Crowley made it clear that he wanted my new training to be the top priority, even going so far as to limit the amount of cookies I made.

Physical training wasn't the only thing I was focused on. Crowley had taken it upon himself to really power up my demonic abilities. This was not a pleasant experience. You see, my boss had set up a list of goals he expected me to meet in all aspects of his new training regiment.

I had to be able to fight one of my body guards and win; Fight off possession for an hour; Throw a human shaped being into a wall using demonic powers; Hold a human shaped being in the air for 2 minutes; and try to use my inner demon to sense normally invisible things. I wasn't sure what he was preparing me for, but privately I added my own goal to the list, Don't Die.

That last one would prove to be the most difficult goal on the list.

It was around the end of month seven when things had gotten particularly dangerous. I was doing well on my physical training, but the training of my demonic abilities were at a standstill. I managed to keep a demon out for maybe half an hour. I managed to shove someone a foot or so. I managed to lift someone as if I were giving them a bear hug for a second. I say I managed all of these things because either my body would start to take damage in some way or my mind would throw whichever demon I was using deeper into my mind, causing me to lose whatever abilities I had.

During a fight this could be deadly, already in sparring I had received a broken arm when after an hour suddenly the super strength was gone. My natural and un-powered body was weak, Greg was told to increase my strength training. I still didn't like Greg.

After one particularly unsuccessful attempt at keeping a demon out Crowley got frustrated. I knew there was trouble when he started pacing.

"I don't understand, everything points to you being able to do everything I want you to do. It must be something about you in particular." He glared in my direction and his eyes began to glow a reddish tint. I stepped back in fear, uncertain of what exactly he was going to do.

I forced my body to not take another step back as his eyes continued to turn red. He suddenly snapped his fingers and the demon within me was ripped out. There was no choking or coughing, just blinding pain and it felt like an unseen force, reached in and violently took what did not belong there.

The pain of it brought me to my knees with an audible thud. I glanced up to see dark red smoke pouring out of Crowley's body and suddenly I knew what was coming. I don't think I realized until that moment how terrifying the entire state of my life was. I felt tears rolling down my face as the red smoke descended and tried to force its way into me.

Then suddenly, I was furious. It was one thing for the random demons to attempt possession for experimental purposes, but Crowley doing it out of anger felt like a violation of some kind. Now I realized why I had been stuck at the 30 minute mark for so long.

The key to not being possessed was a strong will, mental fortitude, and the desire to stay in control. Honestly though, I didn't normally care if I had a demon inside me. It helped me in some ways, made me strong, made me feel powerful both physically and mentally. So I never put a genuine effort into stopping any of the demons so far.

That being said, I knew I would not be able to stop Crowley, he was too powerful; too smart. Every time I tried to breathe the smoke was there, I had the realization that if I fought too long I would just fall unconscious and lose anyway. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that time was moving much more slowly then when I usually attempted to stop a demon in smoke form but it didn't really register. I knew I was going to lose this particular battle, but if I had my way, I would win the next one.

In an instant we were in my library, Crowley not bothering to hide his interest. As my abilities grew, so did my library. I had memories and thoughts hidden throughout the pages of the countless books, it was very doubtful that all of them had words or even titles. There were several stories in this cylindrical library lined with doors, except on the ground floor. The ground floor had a large Screen atop a fireplace with a couch, small coffee table and three doors. The rest was a plain wooden floor with shelves lining the wall, filled with books.

It took some time before he decided to address me. "You let me in."

I nodded, "You were trying to suffocate me, I had no choice. I won't always be able to stop a possession."

Crowley looked down right predatory, "Now you have to keep me from taking over your body. You have told me some of your mental tricks."

With that he waved his hand at me, I felt something, like a light shove and fought not to let the surprise show on my face. Instead I put all of my attention on Crowley. I had told him that I had almost complete control in my library, but failed to mention that demons did not seem to be able to use their powers in this mental space.

He stared at his hand before smirking, "I see, there's a problem with that, love. I like to get my hands dirty." He sprang towards me not hesitating even a bit at trying to beat the crap out of me.

I wasn't expecting that, so he managed to knock me to the ground. I rolled away before getting my bearings and standing up again. The next time he lunged at me I used the training that he forced me to do and threw him to the ground as hard as I could.

He let out a small hiss of pain alongside the thud his body made when it impacted the ground. He slowly rolled over and stood up, "You never mentioned that demons cannot use powers in your mind."

I smiled, "No. I did not, but then, I never thought you would possess me as a surprise."

Crowley smirked, "You and I both know that I am not completely powerless here."

The smile slipped from my face as I realized he had noticed the slight movement when he waved his hand before. I had no idea what he was going to do or how.

He stood a little straighter, "You will give me control of your body. I do wonder how long it will take."

With that he raised his hand with his palm up and fingers splayed wide, then he began to form a fist at an almost imperceptibly slow pace. At first I was confused, then I slowly registered a pain rapidly building throughout my entire body. This should not have been possible, I normally felt nothing when within my mental library. I fell to my knees anyway as he made it to closing his hand a quarter of the way.

I could hear a slight sing-song tone in Crowley's voice, "The pain will stop when you give me control."

I don't recall responding, but I said something because he made a sound of disdain before the pain got measurably worse. I didn't fully understand what was happening, the pain was making it difficult to think. I think I heard the sound of books falling.

He told me to give up once more and when I managed to look over at him, I realized that he was enjoying this too much to stop.

I had seen Crowley get like this when torturing things, usually he accidently killed them in his exuberance.

I was likely going to die, stuck in my own head, with no one to miss me except a vaguely familiar angel. I wondered briefly if he would hear me if I said a goodbye prayer. I took one last look at a near maniacal Crowley standing under softly falling book pages before my thoughts became static.

I am not sure what had happened to me, how long I had been unconscious, or where the hell I was currently. The only thing I was sure of was that I was being moved. My whole body hurt and I realized that I was unable to move my body's position. Just before the panic set in I heard the voice of a vaguely familiar angel, "Don't move. You are damaged." I opened my eyes to peek at just in time to see his hand reaching for my face. Then I blacked out again.

Next thing I knew there was someone shaking me by the shoulder. I cracked open my eyes to see a very unfamiliar face. He was an older man with a beard and a ball cap. I sat up suddenly and immediately felt sick. I must have looked sick too, because the man handed me water while telling me, "I will not be cleaning it if you sick up."

I narrowed my eyes before taking a sip of the water I was given. The man seemed to relax a bit when I did. I glanced at the glass before looking back at him, "Tell me this holy water was at least stored somewhere clean…..recently."

If the man was surprised he didn't show it. "Someone left you on my doorstep." Apparently, whatever filter I possessed was gone, "Wow, I can't believe someone found a basket big enough for that."

I gruffly responded, "Don't be a smart ass."

I instantly replied, "Yes sir," before realizing suddenly that I was an adult and that the guy reminded me strongly of someone from my past that I adored. Immediately, I knew that the nostalgic feeling could spell trouble for me.

There was an awkward silence, I seemed to be in a dungeon or something. I decided to speak up first. "Am I a prisoner?"

The man did seem surprised by that but recovered quickly. "What if you were?"

I shrugged, "The Geneva Convention requires that you feed me."

This time he snorted, "What's your name kid?"

I grinned, "My name is Oracle, What's yours?"

I have no idea how exactly this man, Bobby, had heard of me. However, He seemed to be alternating between having a really good impression of me and thinking my appearance was an assassination plot.

It took exactly 18 minutes of watching him silently and awkwardly make me a sandwich before I couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, What is it? You clearly recognize my name, but seem to be having trouble deciding whether to continue making me lunch or stab me with a kitchen knife."

Bobby eyed the nearby knife block before setting a small plate with a simple sandwich in front of me. "I've heard of you. You are the new kid helping hunters. The Cookie Lady."

He sat down as I rubbed my forehead, "I really need to figure out who started that particular nickname."

He continued, "Trouble is, no one knows who you are, where you came from, or how you get stuff out to them so fast. Some of 'em think you're a witch or something else."

I raised an eyebrow, "I can see how unnerving it would be to have such an unknown person in your home. I will tell you everything I can without sacrificing my safety. Sound fair?"

He must have agreed because he just started asking questions, "Who put you on my doorstep?"

I eyed the sandwich trying to decide if it was safe to eat. "I am somewhat friends with an angel who recently pulled my ass out of some figurative fire and decided that you were the best person to bring me to. Any idea why an angel thinks your home is a safe house?"

I took a bite of the sandwich as he ignored my question and asked another of his own, "So who are you?"

When I was done chewing I sighed, "Well, I was a librarian. Then I got possessed. It was not one of life's finer experiences, I got lucky. Someone managed to get that demon out of me. When I was left to get on with my life, I looked into the fact that apparently demons are real, Angels, heaven, hell, ghosts, magic. Also an ever increasing number of things that would love to eat me. I did what any sensible person would do, I locked myself inside and decided never to go out again."

I took another bite of the sandwich, trying to choke down the guilt of the half true tale I was spinning. "Then I started thinking about hunters, people out there actually doing something about the situation rather than hiding like me. I can't fight, I am tiny and apparently much more edible than I previously thought. What I can do is research, I am very good at research. Turns out that is useful. So I adopted the name Oracle to keep my identity and related information from getting into anyone's hands."

Bobby sat back and crossed his arms, "That doesn't tell me who you are."

I matched his pose, "I don't intend to give a bunch of strangers with guns, fake IDs, and violent streaks my identity and address."

We stared at each other for a minute before he continued what I decided was the most relaxed interrogation ever, "Are you a witch?"

I didn't have to lie about this one at least, "No, but I do know a number of spells, and I did locate one for transporting goods to different distances."

It was the truth, I did find one, but I never had managed to make it work. I hadn't really tried that hard either. I was not comfortable with spells, they gave me a bad feeling.

Bobby seemed to be done asking questions, so I took a chance to ask some of my own. "I know I was pretty much dumped on you…unfortunately angels don't seem to grasp the importance of having your wallet, purse, or money on you…..could I stay until I figure out how to access my stuff, it shouldn't take long?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but I started to nervously babble, I hated asking for help. "Also if I have to stay longer, I can clean and cook, and help with research, I am pretty sure I know my way around a tool box decently enough."

Bobby held up a hand, "I was going to say that you can stay until you get access to your money."

He opened his mouth to continue when the phone rang. It was on a wall of other phones, labeled FBI. I really needed to resupply.

I finished my sandwich before realizing that I was still in my "training" clothes. These were basically short exercise shorts and a longer than normal sports bra with the addition of a large flannel shirt that clearly belonged to my new host.

Apparently, spending a ridiculous amount of time with a demon constantly flirting and making crude comments on your body makes you lose any sense of modesty and decorum.

I pulled the shirt tighter around me while waiting for him to end his call.

He hung up and I spoke up immediately, "I am sorry my winged friend dropped me here half naked."

Bobby half shrugged, "It's none of my business, but why were you half naked with an angel?"

I will admit that I panicked. I couldn't very well tell this man that I was working for the King of Hell and was kidnapped by an angel just before my boss killed me.

"We were interrupted and he dropped me here for safety." My mouth clamped shut immediately.

Bobby was staring at me in disbelief, "You mean you and Cass…"

I nodded dumbly, unable to process the truly staggering story coming out of my mouth.

"It's a secret." Yup, so secret even Castiel would be surprised. I was embarrassed just imagining that conversation.

Bobby was silent for a moment before adding, "Well I'll be damned." He looked either gobsmacked by the idea of Castiel dating anyone or the audacity of telling a lie that big.