May 27th - May 30th, 2006

We pulled up in front of an apartment building, Sam and Dean were dressed as employees from an alarm system company. A woman had been murdered in the building about a week before, they figured that anyone with any information already talked to the police. So, they wanted to try a new angle.

"All right, Dean. This is the place," Sam said, looking up at the building.

"Ya know, I've gotta say, Dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork." Dean smirked. "What was that play that you did? What was it... Our Town."

"What? Sammy was in a play?" I asked, surprised.

Dean smirked at me. "Yeah, he was good, it was cute."

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, you wanna pull this off or not?"

"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?" Dean asked.

Sam furrowed his brow. "Whose?"

"Ours." Dean raised his eyebrows. "You think credit card fraud is easy?"

Sam laughed and got out of the car, and Dean followed.

I put my hands up. "Yeah, I know... wait here, keep the doors locked." I sat back in my seat. "I mean, I know the rules, but jeez not even a 'sorry' smile before you leave me here for twenty minutes?"

I sighed and rested my head on my hand as I watched people walk by. Then I went to reach into my bag and pull out Harry Potter so I could start it over again, but Dad's journal caught my eye. I reached into Sam's bag and pulled it out. I decided that maybe if I learned more about the creatures, my brothers deal with all the time, that they might be more willing to bring me along.


After the boys returned, they told me that the landlord said that the woman looked like a wild animal had killed her. Sam also showed me a symbol on his sketch pad that had been marked out in blood in the apartment. We drove to a bar to get some food and talk about the case.

Sam and I were sitting at a table, waiting for Dean to get back from flirting with the bartender. Sam was looking through newspaper articles and Dad's journal, and I was sipping on iced tea. Dean smiled one last time at the bartender and then walked back to our table.

"I talked to the bartender," Dean said as he sat down.

I smirked. "Is that all you did?"

Sam looked up from his reading. "Yeah, did you get anything? Besides her number?"

Dean looked hurt. "I'm a professional. I'm offended that you guys would think that."

Sam raised his eyebrows.

Dean smirked, pulled out a napkin and held it in front of us. "All right, yeah."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You mind doin' a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?"

I fake gagged. "Nasty."

"Huh? Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died, so... what about that symbol, you find anything?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "Nope, nothing. It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess."

"Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?" Dean asked.

"Right. Yeah." Sam flipped through the newspaper articles and read. "His name was, uh... his name was Ben Swardstrom." He handed Dean the article. "Last month he was found mutilated in his townhouse. Same deal... the door was locked... the alarm was on."

"Is there any connection between the two of them?" Dean asked, glancing up from the newspaper.

Sam shrugged. "Not that I can tell... I mean, not yet, at least. Ben was a banker. Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common... they were practically from different worlds."

Dean sighed and put the article down. "So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number." He smirked.

Sam ignored Dean's comment and looked passed him across the room, I tried to see what he was looking at but didn't see anything except drunk people and people playing pool.

"What?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder.

Sam got up from the table and walked away.

Dean looked at me, furrowed his brow, and then called behind him. "Sam?"

Sam didn't say anything and continued walking until he stopped at a table with a short-haired blonde girl sitting at it. Dean looked at me, and I shrugged, we both got up and walked over to Sam.

"I thought you were goin' to California," Sam said as we walked up behind him.

The girl smiled. "Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar."

"Who?" Sam asked.

She shrugged. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while."

Dean cleared his throat and pulled me in front of him, resting his hands on my shoulders. Neither of them turned their attention away from each other.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked.

The girl shook her head. "No, Massachusetts... Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong." The girl smiled.

Sam nodded.

Dean cleared his throat again, louder.

The girl turned her attention to Dean and gave him a dirty look. "Dude cover your mouth," she snapped.

I gave her a dirty look, even though she didn't catch it.

Sam cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh... this is my brother, Dean, and my sister, Maddison."

"This is Dean?" Meg asked with an attitude.

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"So, you've heard of me?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice... the way you treat your brother like luggage," Meg snapped.

"Sorry?" Dean asked, confused.

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth," she continued.

"Hey, you don't know any—" I started, and then Dean squeezed my shoulders.

"Meg, it's all right," Sam said, annoyingly calm.

We stood in silence until Dean whistled. "Okay, awkward. Come on, Maddi."

Dean squeezed my shoulders and lightly pulled me back over to our table. When we sat down, Dean glanced back over his shoulder at Sam.

"What the hell was her problem?" I asked, annoyed.

Dean turned back to me. "Hey, langu—" He shook his head and smirked. "Ya know what? I don't know. She wasn't even that into me."

I frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Dean."

He laughed. "What?"

"Why would Sam tell her something like that?" I asked.

"Ah, you know Sammy. Always blowin' stuff outta proportion. He did it with Dad when he was mad too." Dean shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. "How annoying."

Dean leaned forward and smirked. "Aw, you're just mad that she was picking on your big bro."

I sat back and shrugged. "No. I mean, I don't care. She just had no right to say anything is all."

Dean smiled. "Mm-hmm."

I shrugged. "Either way, I don't like her. I hope he doesn't plan on dating her or something."

Dean laughed.

Sam walked up to us. "You guys ready?"

We got up and followed Sam out of the bar.

Once we walked through the front door, Dean spoke up. "Who the hell was she?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't really know. I only met her once, back in Indiana. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird."

"Oh, I guess we go around complaining about each other to strangers now." I scoffed.

Sam looked down at me.

"And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, after you had a hissy fit and left us behind... for the second time," I said, "Or did you not tell her that part?"

Sam stopped and looked down at me. "I didn't leave you guys behind, you left me."

I put my hands up. "That's what you wanted to happen, you got out of the car, grabbed your bags, and walked away. You literally said you wanted us to leave. You chose that! That doesn't make it okay to complain about Dean to some random girl!"

Sam's jaw tightened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Dean interrupted, "All right, all right enough." He put his hands on our shoulders.

Sam looked at us. "Look, I'm sorry. We had just had a huge fight. But that's not important, just listen—"

Dean turned and continued walking. "Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?"

"No, of course not. Now, would you listen?" Sam asked as we followed Dean.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I think there's somethin' strange going on here, Dean," Sam said.

"Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn't even that into me." Dean stopped in front of the Impala, smirked, and winked at me.

I shook my head. "Wasn't funny the first time."

Dean frowned.

Sam shook his head. "No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead."

"Why do you say that?" Dean asked.

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, random coincidence. It happens."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on."

Dean smirked. "Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?"

Sam laughed.

"Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" Dean asked, pointing to his head.

I put my head back and groaned. "Will you guys stop saying that?"

Sam laughed. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor."

"What are you gonna do?" Dean asked.

"I'm gonna watch Meg," Sam said, straight-faced.

Dean smirked and winked. "Yeah, you are."

Sam shrugged. "I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry."

"All right, you little pervert," Dean joked.

"Dude," Sam said.

Dean sighed and tossed Sam the keys to the Impala. "I'm goin', I'm goin'." He put his hand on my back and led me across the road, down the sidewalk.

"Where are we going?" I asked, confused.

"We're going back to the motel room," Dean said, "I figure Sam needs the car more than us, and the walk won't hurt."


Dean opened his laptop and got to work while I laid under the covers on one of the beds, reading Dad's journal. I looked up when Dean started talking and realized he was on the phone.

"Let me guess. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" (...) "You've got a funny way of showin' your affection." (...) "Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?" (...) "Yeah, that I did have some luck with." Dean flipped through his notebook. "It's, uh... turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a daeva." (...) "It translates to 'demon of darkness.' Zoroastrian demons and they're savage, animalistic, ya know, nasty attitudes... kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls."

I put my reading down. "Pit bulls are just misunderstood, maybe these demons aren't that bad." I smiled.

Dean pursed his lips at me and continued his conversation. "Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasin' around here." (...) "No, I called Dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, all right?" (...) "Anyway, here's the thing... these daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured." (...) "Yeah, that's what I'm sayin'. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos." (...) "Well, nobody knows, but nobody's seen 'em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town. Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?"

"Oh, my god, you guys really need to chill out today." I rolled my eyes.

Dean looked over at me and smirked. Then he turned away from me, covered his mouth slightly, and whispered. "No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks, though..." he spoke normal again, "Sam? Are you—?" Then he hung up. He looked back over at me, but I was already staring at him. "What?" he asked.

"Seriously? You whisper like a fog-horn, bro," I said, with attitude.

Dean shrugged and went back to researching, and I went back to reading Dad's journal.


About an hour later, Sam came rushing into our motel room. Dean and I looked up, startled.

"Dude, I gotta talk to you," they said in unison.

Sam explained that he had followed Meg to an old warehouse where she snuck in and used a black altar to summon the daeva and communicate with someone. He had been right about it not being a coincidence that he ran into Meg again.

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the daeva?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing."

"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl." Dean chuckled. "And what's the deal with that bowl again?"

"She was talking into it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone," Sam explained.

"With who? With the daeva?" Dean asked.

"No, you said those things were savages." Sam shook his head. "No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse."

Dean thought for a moment and then walked over to flip through his research. "Holy crap."

"What?" Sam and I asked in unison.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier... I pulled a favor with my..." Dean cleared his throat. "Friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims... we missed something the first time."

"What?" Sam walked over to look at the papers Dean was holding.

"The first victim, the old man... he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born." Dean pointed to something on one of the pages.

"Lawrence, Kansas," Sam read.

"Mm-hmm." Dean flipped to another paper. "Meredith, the second victim... turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from."

Sam looked at the paper, sighed, and sat down on the bed next to me. "Holy crap."

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "I think it's a definite possibility."

Sam shook his head. "But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these daeva things fit in?"

Dean shrugged. "Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."

Sam shook his head. "No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what is showin' up to meet her."

"I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone." Dean sighed. "Okay, go pack up any weapons you think we might need, and I will try to get through to Dad."

Sam nodded and walked out of the room with a duffel bag.

"You actually think he will come, Dean?" I asked.

Dean sat down on the bed next to me. "I dunno, kiddo. I hope."

I frowned. "Yeah, me too. We're really gonna need his help tonight."

Dean's expression changed to worry. "Aw, no. You can't actually think we're going to let you go with us on this one?"

"But this is the big one, I want to be there for my family." I frowned.

Dean shook his head. "This is way too dangerous. I need you to promise that you will not leave this room tonight."

I looked down sadly. "Promise."

Dean put his hand under my chin and lifted so I would look at him. "I love you, kid. I need you safe." He rubbed my cheek with his thumb and then ruffled my hair.

Dean flipped open his phone and called Dad, (...) "We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse... it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." He hung up.

Sam walked into the room. "Voicemail?"

"Yeah." Dean stood up and gestured to the stuffed bag Sam was carrying. "Jeez, what'd you get?"

Sam chuckled. "I ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."

Dean nodded and started loading their guns. "Big night."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. You nervous?"

Dean glanced up. "No. Why... are you?"

"No. No way," Sam said, and then they were silent for a few seconds. "God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school... be a person again."

"You wanna go back to school?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing," Sam said.

I felt my throat tighten, but I held back the tears. I couldn't believe what Sam was saying, after everything he knew, he still wanted a normal life. Away from us.

Dean nodded. "Huh."

"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Sam asked.

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you," Dean said, blankly.

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt."

Sam shrugged. "But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself..."

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam." Dean walked over to the dresser and faced away from Sam.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Sam asked, putting his hands out.

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?" Dean asked after a moment of silence.

Sam shrugged. "'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man." Dean turned away again and was silent for a moment. "You and me and Maddison and Dad... I mean, I want us... I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before," Sam said.

Dean turned to face Sam, sadness across his face. "Could be."

Sam shook his head. "I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."

I quickly got up and went into the bathroom, not knowing if I could contain myself anymore and not wanting my brothers to see me cry. I turned on the shower, hoping that... maybe... they wouldn't be concerned.

There was a knock on the door a moment later. "Uh, Maddi. We're heading out now. Stay safe and keep the room locked down," Dean called through the door.

I sniffled, trying to keep my voice clear. "Okay, be careful."

I heard their footsteps, and then the door closed. Then I realized that what they were going up against was big, something they had never faced before.

I ran out of the room. "Sam! Dean! Wait!"

They both turned around, and I ran into Sam with a hug. "Be careful, okay?" I pulled away and looked up at him. Then I turned to hug Dean, who already had his arms out waiting for a hug too. "Don't do anything stupid," I said, half-joking. "Don't taunt anyone unnecessarily."

Dean chuckled softly, and I hugged him hard and didn't let go for a few seconds. He pulled back and knelt down with his hands on my shoulders. "I love you, stay safe." He ruffled my hair and pulled me into another quick hug and then let go.

As they both walked off to the Impala, Dean turned and called back to me. "Get inside and stay there!"

I ran back into the motel, locked the door, and made sure the windows were shut and locked. I grabbed the phone out of my duffel bag and put it on the nightstand. It was late, and I decided the best way to pass the time would be to sleep, even though I knew it would be restless. I got dressed in my pjs and climbed into bed. I turned off the lamp and closed my eyes.


After tossing and turning, I was pulled out of my grogginess by the sound of something messing around with the lock on the door. I instantly became alert and glanced over at the clock, it was two in the morning, I had been in and out of sleep for about two hours, and I knew the scratching at the lock wasn't Sam or Dean. I quickly got up, not wanting to switch a light on, I unplugged the lamp on the nightstand and tiptoed over to the door. I leaned against the wall next to the door with the lamp in hand, ready to swing when it opened.

The lock jiggled a little more, and then the door slowly opened as a dark figure walked in. I swung the lamp, but the figure caught it and pulled it away from me. I stomped down on its foot as hard as I could and elbowed it in the gut. I heard a slight groan and slipped passed the figure, running out of the door.

The figure grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, hey. It's me."

I recognized the voice instantly, and tears came to my eyes, I spun around and looked my Dad in the eyes for the first time in months.

A huge smile spread across Dad's face. "Hi, peanut."

I broke down into tears and ran to him. "Daddy!"

He hugged me and pulled me into the room, switched the light on, and closed the door behind us.

I clung to him. "You're really here." Then I quickly pulled back, realizing what I had done to him. "Oh, jeez. I hit you."

He put his hands on my shoulders and laughed. "Don't worry. You did what I taught you to do." He smiled and then pulled me back into a long hug.

Moments later the door opened, Sam and Dean walked in, covered with cuts and blood.

"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again... better safe than sorry," Sam said.

Sam and Dean both looked into the room, shock crossing their faces. "Dad?" they asked in unison.

"Hey, boys," Dad said.

Dean walked up to Dad, and they shared a long hug, then Dad pulled away and looked over at Sam, who was watching sadly. "Hi, Sam."

"Hey, Dad," Sam said softly, and set his bag of weapons on the floor, but didn't approach Dad.

"Dad, it was a trap. I didn't know. I'm sorry," Dean said urgently.

"It's all right. I thought it might've been," Dad said.

"Were you there?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?" Dad asked.

"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean said in unison.

Dad nodded. "Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" Sam asked.

Dad nodded. "It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell... actually, kill it."

"How?" Dean asked.

Dad smiled. "I'm workin' on that."

"Let us come with you. We'll help," Sam said.

Dean gave Sam a 'warning' look, but Sam didn't notice.

Dad shook his head. "No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us," Sam said.

"Of course, I do. I'm your father." Dad paused for a moment. "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

Sam nodded. "Yes, sir."

"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time." Dad smiled.

"Too long." Sam nodded, and they hugged with tears in their eyes.

They pulled apart, and we all just stood there, happily, and tearfully in silence for a few moments.

Then suddenly, Dad was thrown across the room by an unseen force. Then Sam. I looked up in time to see my shadow on the wall and a tall figure standing over it with long claws, and then I was thrown across the room as well.

I screamed with pain as I hit the wall and looked down at my arm that now had three bloody cuts across it.

"No!" Dean yelled and then was slammed onto the floor.

I could hear my Dad screaming out in pain, I looked up, and the shadow demon was slashing and scratching at his chest. My brothers were also being attacked, and then I was suddenly pinned down. I felt claws rake across my arms and legs. I was unable to move, all I could do was scream out in pain and listen to the cries of my family.

"Shut your eyes! These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!" Sam yelled.

I closed my eyes but could see a bright light shining behind my eyelids, and then I began to choke on the smoke. I could move again but couldn't see anyone through the smoke that now filled the room.

"Dad!" Dean yelled.

"Over here!" Dad shouted.

Sam appeared through the smoke in front of me, picked me up, and carried me out of the motel.

Once we reached the Impala, he set me down. "All right, come on. We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."

Dean sighed. "Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait. Dad, you can't come with us."

I began to cry because I knew Dean was right.

"What? What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked.

Dad looked at us sadly. "You kids... you're beat to hell."

"We'll be all right," Dean said.

Sam shook his head. "Dean, we should stick together. We'll go after those demons—"

"Sam! Listen to me!" Dean yelled. "We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He— He's stronger without us around."

"Dad... no." Sam put his hand on Dad's shoulder. "After everything... after all the time we spent lookin' for you... please. I gotta be a part of this fight."

Dad sighed. "Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son."

Sam shook his head sadly.

"Okay, you've gotta let me go," Dad said.

We all stared at Dad sadly for a moment.

Dad knelt next to me. "We will be together again soon, peanut. Don't cry." He pulled me into a hug, and I burst into tears. "Listen to your brothers." He pulled away, wiped the tears from my cheeks, and kissed my forehead. "Be careful, kids." Then he walked off to his truck.

Dean put his arm around me and rubbed my shoulder as we watched Dad leave. "Come on."

We all got into the Impala, and none of us spoke as Dean started the car and sped off. I stared out of the window, not worried about my fresh wounds, as I couldn't feel them at that point anyway. I was numb.