Scarlett was a bundle of nerves as she heard a knock on her hotel room door. She stood and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans as she approached the door. Opening it she was immediately engulfed in a bear hug from her Uncle.

"Great to see you girl!! Been way too long!"

Bobby Singer was in his late 50's. Faded blue jeans, flannel shirt and a beat up ball cap. Slightly scruffy beard grizzled with grey. And he was a sight for sore eyes.

She returned his hug, "Too long for sure!"

Behind him were three men. The first was shorter, sandy blonde short hair. Wearing a brown leather jacket and a devil may care attitude. Probably very popular with the ladies, but Scarlett saw eyes that had seen far more than a man that age should have.

The second was tall, younger than the first. Longer, dark hair, an introvert, she could tell. But that same haunted look in the eyes.

The third instantly put her on alert. He was on the short side. Shirt dark hair and light blue eyes. He was wearing dress pants and a white dress shirt and tie and a beige trench coat...decidedly ordinary looking, but she could sense the immense power radiating from him.

Bobby made the introductions. "Shana, this is Dean Winchester and his brother Sam, and our...friend, Cas."

She nodded to acknowledge everyone and Bobby asked. "Let's see that tattoo you told me about." As she started pulling the neckline of her shirt and noticed the men her Uncle called Dean and Sam mirrored her, showing the exact same tattoo. Bobby answered the unspoken question, "It's a sigil to protect from demonic possession." Her hand shook slightly as she let go of her shirt. "Okay, and the marks on my bones?" "Warding to keep you hidden from angels." She felt the headache growing behind her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. "Angels, demons, now how did I get the handprint?"

At this the man named Cas stepped forward. "I made that mark."

"How?"

"I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

"Why?"

"Because God commanded it"

She just stared at him but Bobby looked at Cas and said, "Go on, show her."

The lights in the room began flickering on and off and Shana's eyes were glued to Cas as his eyes began glowing and then she gasped as she saw two dark, shadowy wings spread from his back.

She stumbled back, but managed to speak. "Okay, Angel, I get it. But my question is why? Why me?"

The lighting returned to normal, as did Cas' eyes and the wings disappeared from view. He looked at her, "The reason was not revealed to me, but I believe you are meant to help the Winchesters."

"Help them with what?"

At this point Dean stepped forward and answered her. "Saving people, hunting things, the Family business."

Shana lifted one copper eyebrow, "What things?"

About 4 hours later Shana absentmindedly scooped another forkful of chicken chow mein into her mouth as her eyes devoured the words written in a worn leather journal that had been penned by John Winchester. She was utterly dumbfounded. It was a detailed history of every monster and supernatural being that existed and that he had hunted. Ghosts, Ghouls, Demons, Wendigos, Shapeshifters, etc. including instructions on how to destroy them.

So engrossed was she that she jumped when a tumbler with a shot of bourbon appeared in front of her. She followed the glass and hand holding it up the accompanying arm to see Dean's face.

"You looked like you could use this."

Shana took the tumbler, studied it and looked back at Dean. "Finding out that every childhood nightmare I had is real...think that is worth at least a double, don't you?"

He gave her a cocky grin and a nod and poured a triple.

At her raised eyebrow he smiled again, "You haven't gotten to the real juicy stuff yet."

"Great." And she took a healthy swallow, coughing as it burned it's way down her throat. A healthy slapping on her back came from Sam, who sat down beside her. "It's a lot to take in. No one is expecting you to become an expert overnight."

She smiled a thanks at the younger man. Then shook her head as she looked at the journal. "This is all so incredible. Bobby how long have you been involved in all this?"

"Since Karen died."

The quiet way he murmured his late wife's name made her stop and look at him. He was standing against the kitchenette counter, contemplating the bourbon in his glass, his gaze unreadable.

She looked at her Uncle, "It wasn't a car accident that killed her, was it?"

He heaved a sigh and looked her in the eye. "No, demon took her body for a joyride one night. She...didn't make it."

Shana felt her eyes welling up. Bobby had worshipped Karen. His sweet, kind, adoring wife. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I spent the first six months at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. When I finally crawled out I had to get answers. That is how I got involved with hunting. Didn't want to involve the rest of my family knowing how dangerous it is. I'll level with you girl. Monster hunting is a lethal occupation. Chances of survival are slim to none."

Shana leveled a long look at her Uncle, Sam, Dean and Cas. Slammed down the rest of the bourbon without batting an eye.

"When do we start?"