Author's Note: Just want everyone to know that I personally know nothing about exorcisms or even the Catholic religion, so if there's any mistakes or other bad things, don't hold them against me. Thanks!

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Please remember ..." Sam began, looking from Janelle to Spencer. "Don't come upstairs. No matter what you hear. Don't come upstairs." The father and daughter nodded, although reluctant to agree. "There will probably be a lot of screaming, she'll lie, but it's not her. So don't come upstairs." He looked into Janelle's eyes accusingly. "Don't." Janelle's eyebrows rose in offense.

"I won't," she growled with an attitude. Funny how this guy was trying to tell her what to do in her own home. If she wanted to go upstairs into Julie's room, if Julie was calling for help, she would try to help. She didn't need permission from Sam Winchester to do so.

"Then I guess we're ready," Sam said to Dean. Dean's lips curled and he nodded. Sam passed him and headed up the stairs. Dean looked at Janelle, their eyes connecting for a moment, and he smiled halfheartedly before following his brother to Julie's room.

"Come on, Janie," Spencer said, pulling her toward the kitchen. "I'll fix you something to eat." Janelle watched Dean jog up the staircase and then trudged into the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry," she sighed, sitting down. She didn't want to sit alone with her father while Julie went through an exorcism, as she wasn't sure how either of them would handle it. They neither knew what to expect.

"You gotta eat," Spencer told her, trying his hardest to sound friendly and fatherly at the same time.

Janelle said nothing, digging into the pocket of her zip-up hoodie to retrieve a pack of Turkish Royals and a pink lighter. She wetted the tip of the cigarette with her lips, popped it into her mouth, and lit it. She inhaled the smoke like it was oxygen and exhaled it slowly through her nostrils.

Spencer turned to her to ask what she wanted to eat when he spotted the cancerous stick in her mouth. He looked down at her disapprovingly, and she gazed right back at him, seemingly challenging him to argue with what she was doing.

Meanwhile, Dean locked Julie's bedroom door behind him, and he and Sam stood silently, unmoving. Julie was still tied to the bed, but she was sitting upright, staring them down. Her eyes were dark, evil, and the brothers were sure it wasn't Julie they were dealing with at the moment.

"Hold her down," Sam instructed, and Dean looked at him angrily.

"Why do I always have to hold them down?" he asked. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Just do it." Dean sighed, removing his outer shirt and tossing it onto the rocking chair, and started toward Julie, who was now smiling at him. Dean really didn't get scared of many things anymore, but smiles like that – demonic and menacing – frightened him the tiniest bit.

"Big, strong man gonna hold me down," Julie grinned, her voice deep and angry. Dean smiled mockingly at her and shoved her shoulders into the headboard. "Ooh ..." she moaned. "Kinda kinky. You wanna do that to my sister?" Dean's jaw clenched and he turned to Sam.

"Would you get on with it, please?" he commanded. Sam stepped forward with the papers he'd printed from the internet. He took a deep breath.

"I can see what you want to do to her," Julie nastily said. "You sick bastard." His jaw muscles flexed frantically as he restrained himself from knocking her block off.

"Sam!" he yelled.

"On her knees, isn't she?" Julie continued, raising her eyebrows inquisitively. "With her mouth full of …"

"Shut up!" Dean commanded, slamming her back against the headboard again. She only laughed.

"Exorciso te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei, Patris omnipotentis," Sam relayed Latin. I exorcise thee, every unclean spirit, in the name of God, the Father Almighty. "Et ni nomine Jesu Christi, Filii ejus, Domini et Judicis nostri." And in the name of Jesus Christ, His Son, our Lord and Judge.

Julie, or the thing inside of Julie, began to howl. Her mouth opened wide and the sounds that came out weren't anything close to human-sounding. She yanked at the restraints and tears fell from her empty eyes.

Sam extracted the bottle of holy water from his jacket and began to squirt droplets onto Julie's body. Her exposed skin burned, and Julie's female voice found its way out, mixing with the demonic one of Elathan.

"I am it inside of you!" Julie screamed, that eerie, monstrous voice wracking the brothers' bodies with chills. She suddenly snapped her head to face Dean, her nose brushing his, and her now red eyes impaled his thoughts. "I am your hate, Winchester," she growled. She smiled maniacally, her irises flashing violet for a moment. "I am your hate for your brother."

"Et in virtute Spiritus Sancti," Sam went on, though his curiosity about Julie's last statement ate away at him. And in the power of the Holy Spirit. Her words only added fuel to the fire the shape-shifter had ignited inside of him.

"He went to college because he had a chance," Julie said. "Daddy didn't want you to go because you'd fucked up your life beyond the point of fixing it with education." Dean's nostrils flared in rage, but he still said nothing. "You're a fucking screw up, Dean Winchester. You embarrassed your father. He was ashamed of you." She paused, tilted her head, and grinned. "Why do you think he left?"

"Ut descedas ab hac plasmate Dei, Julie, quod Dominus noster ad templum sanctum, suum vocare elignatus est." That thee depart from this creature of God, Julie, which our Lord hath designed to call unto His holy temple, that it may be made the temple of the living God. He dropped more of the blessed water onto Julie's skin, which heightened her screams, and she fought harder against the tape and rope while Dean held fast to her shoulders.

"You let her burn, Sam Winchester," Julie smiled, turning her attention to Sam. "You knew and you let her bleed and burn!" Sam gulped and paused the Latin. "She depended on you to keep her safe. To keep her alive, and you let her down. You watched her burn for days, but did you do anything?" She laughed and shook her head. "No. You sat back in that happy little world you created and fucking waited for it to happen. That almost sounds like murder to me."

Downstairs, Janelle was finishing her second cigarette, crushing it out on the tabletop as there was no ashtray in the house. The screams from Julie's room were increasing in volume and terrifying howls. Janelle thought this type of thing was only present in movies. Only actors could portray demonic possession because it couldn't happen in real life. But it was happening to her sister. Why didn't it come after her?

One more scream in a different language, and Janelle stood from the table, knocking her chair backward. "I can't stand this," she cried, and she bolted through the house and out the front door. Spencer didn't bother to follow his daughter; she'd just demand that he leave her alone, and he grabbed a Heineken out of the refrigerator.

Janelle stomped passed Dean's Impala and glanced inside; the keys were still in the ignition. He must have hurried inside so quickly that he'd forgotten to grab the keys. Janelle took advantage of this mistake and climbed into the driver's seat, gently closing the door.

At the same time, the exorcism of Julie was getting almost too intense for Sam and Dean to handle. Objects were flying around the room and the demon was revealing secrets about them that neither cared to share.

Suddenly one of her arms was free, and she decked Dean, knocking him to the floor. Before she could do the same to Sam, he'd pressed a small cross to her forehead, which he'd retrieved from the trunk.

"She won't be saved!" the demon wailed, and then Julie fell limp and unconscious. Sam hurriedly restrained her freed arm and then ran to his brother's aid.

"Ow," Dean whined, gently touching his mouth where Julie had clocked him.

"Ever get hit on like that before?" Sam jested. Dean glared up at him.

"I still got all my teeth?" he inquired, smiling sarcastically. Sam recoiled at the blood pooling in his brother's mouth.

"Yeah," he answered, "But you could stand to brush once in a while."

"Eh, blow me," Dean growled, and Sam helped him to his feet.

"I think that's enough for tonight," Sam sighed, and the two left Julie's room, locking the door behind them, though they were unsure if a simple lock would supply any protection. But they both needed a break, needed time to calm down and figure out what to do next.

"I don't understand why the better looking of the two always has to get his face mangled," Dean mumbled to himself, gazing at his tired reflection in the bathroom mirror as he dabbed at the blood trickling from the inside of his mouth as well as from his busted bottom lip.

"Spencer's out back on his third Heineken," Sam said, scratching his head.

"Where's Janelle?" Dean asked. Sam looked at his brother through the mirror and, having completely forgotten about Janelle because of her identical likeness to Julie, shrugged. Dean sighed, glancing at the large spot of blood on the rag. "I'll go find her," he offered. "Chill out for a few minutes, then go back upstairs."

"Hey, did Dad ever mention any relation to Hitler?" Sam sardonically remarked. Dean maneuvered a hand behind his back and lifted his middle finger. Sam smirked as he plopped down on the couch; he needed sleep, but more than that, he needed a shower.

In the Impala, Janelle desired a cigarette, but she chose not to smoke in someone else's car. For one; it was rude, and two; Priscilla did not want her seats tainted with the stench of cancer. She propped her foot up on the dashboard and leaned forward, letting her head rest on the steering wheel, as her hands held onto it at the sides.

Priscilla spoke to her. Telling her that if Janelle was to ever ride in or drive her, she would do everything in her mechanical power to take care of her. Like she did with Dean. Like she did with Sam. Janelle smiled a thank you just as the screen door to her house slammed. She looked up in time to see Dean cringe at the ridiculous bang, and then he continued toward the Chevy. Janelle quickly locked the door, expecting to see Dean get angry, but he didn't.

Standing next to his car with Janelle in the driver's seat, he knew immediately that she was just upset and not contemplating stealing the Impala. He tapped the window with the ring on his finger, and Janelle laid back in the seat, looking up at him. When she made no move to unlock the door, Dean squatted down, leaning one arm against the door and resting his chin on top of it.

The two seemed to stare at each other for the longest time through the window, but it was only a matter of seconds. Dean smiled up at Janelle unexpectedly. Not a charming, flirtatious smile, but a meaningful, sympathetic one. A smile that told Janelle that he understood and that he cared.

Janelle moved closer to the window, closer to Dean, as she observed him. She drank in his handsome, chiseled features for several moments, as he did the same. Then she rolled down the window.

"I'm not coming out, but you can come in," she stated. Dean nodded.

"All right, move over."