Mother's Little Helper Part 1

Lebanon, Kansas

Angela set a large, red book on the table and started to leaf through it when Sam walked into the room.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

"Hey." Angela barely glanced up.

"You catch any shut-eye last night?" Sam asked.

"Nope," Angela replied shortly.

"Well, uh, I caught wind of a case online," Sam replied. "A 1st-grade teacher came home and killed her husband."

"Well, maybe she snapped," Angela muttered.

"Angie, she pounded him, into ground chuck," Sam explained.

"So, what are you thinking?" Angela asked, still reading out of the book.

"Best guess—possession," Sam answered.

"Why don't you and Dean go? I can stay here with Grace." Angela suggested as she turned her back on Sam and walked over to a file folder.

Sam sighed heavily. "Angie, look. Dean and I want to find Abaddon, too, but we've been combing through this stuff for days."

"Well, maybe we missed something." Angela retorted.

"And maybe there are better ways to spend our time than just spin our—

"Maybe we don't have time!" Angela shouted at Sam.

Sam's brows furrowed in concern. "What's up with you?"

Angela pulled a paper out of the folder and skimmed over it silently. "Nothing."

"Yeah?" Sam asked as he walked over to Angela. "See, because ever since you killed Magnus, you've been acting… sort of… obsessed. Dean's noticed, too."

Angela finally turned around to face Sam. "Well, maybe because I want an end to all this. Maybe because if we find Abaddon, then Crowley ponies up the First Blade, and we kill her and him both. So, what you call being 'obsessed,' I call doing my job."

"Okay, um… I get it, Angie." Sam pursed his lips. "I'm just checking in."

"I'm fine." She assured.

Sam nodded but looked unconvinced. "Alright. Call us if you find anything, okay?"

Sam left the room. Angela closed her eyes and then opened them and pulled a large bottle of whiskey out of her bag. She opened the bottle and took a long drink.

~/~\~

Milton, Illinois

Sam and Dean, dressed in their FBI apparel, were walking through the Milton, IL police station talking to the sheriff.

"It says here in your report that you were the first on the scene?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yes, sir." The sheriff nodded. "I found Mrs. Young sitting next to her husband covered in blood."

"Now, was her husband abusive?" Sam questioned.

"Ric? Oh, no. Not at all." The sheriff replied. "I mean, he could be a stubborn S.O.B., but can't we all?"

"Ah. Anything else, uh, weird that maybe you felt was too odd to include?" Sam pressed.

"Like?" the sheriff quirked a brow.

"Like, did you smell sulfur?" Dean questioned.

"Why would I smell sulfur?" the sheriff scoffed.

"Of course." Dean chuckled. "Uh, thank you. What about Karen's eyes? You notice anything strange?"

"Actually, agent, they, uh, pretty much looked like eyes." The sheriff sassed.

They rounded the corner into the cell block and the sheriff stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, lord." He gasped.

Karen Young had hung herself in her cell but not before she had written and drawn across the walls in her own blood.

~/~\~

The coroner took Karen's body out of the station as the sheriff spoke to Sam and Dean.

"I don't get this. Karen and Ric were two of the most ordinary people you'd ever meet." The sheriff frowned deeply.

"Did she go anywhere on the day of the murder?" Sam asked.

"It was Saturday. Uh… A quick trip to the grocery store." The sheriff shrugged. "That's about it."

~/~\~

Angela was still pouring over letters, files, books, and film scattered across the table in the bunker. Grace was down for a nap in her nursery. Suddenly, Angela's phone rang and she hesitated before picking up.

"How's Mrs. Manson doing?" she answered, putting the phone on speaker.

"Dead," Sam answered. "Hung herself in her cell."

"Lovely," Angela muttered sarcastically. "The demon smoke out?"

"If it was a demon," Dean replied. "I mean, there was no sulfur, no EMF anywhere. And everyone who saw her just before she gutted her husband said she was totally fine."

"What are you guys still doing there?" Angela questioned. "This sounds like a case of the crazies to me."

"Well, if nothing kicks up by morning, we're out of here. How's research going?" Sam replied.

"It's going." Angela sighed. "Alright. Well, uh… Good luck."

Angela hung up and set her phone on the table. She stared at her empty bottle of whiskey with far away eyes. Her hand shook slightly at the memory of the First Blade. Angela quickly shook herself back to reality, picked up her phone, dialed, and quickly hung up.

~/~\~

"Order up. Here you go." The cook said.

"Thanks, R.J." the waitress smiled politely. She took the two plates and set them in front of Sam and Dean. "Can I get you two boys anything else?"

"No thank you, ma'am," Dean replied with a small smile.

"Uh, this is great. Thank you." Sam nodded.

"Order up." The cook called out as Billy entered.

"Be with you in a minute, Bill." The waitress told the boy.

Billy sat down at the counter and grabbed mashed potatoes from the plate next to him and started stuffing them into his mouth.

"Billy, what are you doing?" the waitress asked in shock. "Your mother raise you in a barn?"

"Don't talk to me like that!" Billy shouted at her.

"Hey," Sam interjected. "Take it easy. She's working hard."

"What's eating you?" the waitress asked gently as she approached Billy.

Billy pushed a glass off the counter onto the floor, causing it to shatter. "You. My mom. Him." He snarled, gesturing to Sam.

"Buddy… Give it a rest." Dean warned firmly.

"Billy?" the waitress attempted to get his attention. "Billy. I'm gonna call your mom, have her come fetch you."

"No, you're not." Billy chuckled darkly.

Billy grabbed a table knife from the counter and stabbed it into the waitress's hand, pinning it to the counter. She screamed and the Winchesters jumped from their seats and tackled Billy, quickly disarming him.

~/~\~

Back at the Milton Sheriff's Department, Sam and Dean were walking through the cell block with the sheriff. With Billy, there were about three to four other people who were writing on the walls with their own blood, humming to themselves or banging their head against the cell door.

"So, tell us what's happening here," Dean muttered.

"I was hoping you'd tell me." The sheriff retorted. "You're the ones that mentioned weird."

"Now, where did they all come from?" Sam questioned.

"Oh, they're all locals." The sheriff replied. "Four of the straightest arrows you'd ever meet. Apparently, they've been acting like this for days."

"Do they share anything in common? Church? School? Uh, book club?" Sam raised his brows.

"Not of my knowledge." The sheriff shook his head. "Oh, I met the kid's girlfriend. She said he was hitching a ride when a van picked him up, and that's the last she heard of him. Whatever that's worth."

The sheriff was called away and the brothers walked back to Billy's cell. Sam shook holy water on him, but nothing happened.

"What are you, Billy?" Dean demanded.

"Clear," Billy answered.

"Of?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"Everything." Billy laughed.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean narrowed his eyes.

"You think there's a 'why'? No." Billy smirked darkly. "It's because I want to. And I can."

~/~\~

Sam and Dean sat in the police station still reading through case files. Sam dialed his phone and while it rang, the sheriff brought over some photos.

"Grocery store surveillance pics." The sheriff said.

"Great. Thank you." Sam replied, waiting for Angela to answer.

~/~\~

After about five rings, Angela finally picked up. She sat in a diner booth, Grace in a highchair next to the table.

"Hey." Angela greeted.

"Well, that took forever," Sam replied.

"Uh, well, I'm working." Angela lied. "You guys got anything?"

"Not sure." Sam sighed heavily. "But, um, a handful of other people have started acting out, too."

"Acting out how?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"Well, same as the woman—aggressive, violent, impulsive," Sam explained.

Angela scoffed lightly. "Sounds like you're in a Gold's gym."

"Yeah. Except it's less steroid-induced, and more… basic instinct." Sam muttered. "It's like the littlest things can set them off. Kind of like me."

"You?" Angela frowned.

"Yeah, uh, soulless me. Remember that?"

Angela snorted. "Yeah, how could I forget? But you weren't out of control like these people."

"Yeah, well, maybe everyone has a different reaction to losing their soul," Sam suggested.

"Possible," Angela replied. "So, what? A crossroads demon making deals and taking peoples' souls."

"No, I don't think so," Sam muttered. "I mean, it's not as if these people are winning the lotto."

"Okay. Uh, well, that was my best swing." Angela sighed.

"I hope not, Angie." Sam retorted. "W-we could really use your help down here. Angie?"

"Yeah, no I—I hear you." She replied. "I just, uh… I'm getting close, Sam. I can't drop the ball on Abaddon right now."

"Alright. Be safe." Sam replied gently.

Angela hung up and started to sip her drink. Suddenly, Crowley appeared in the booth behind her.

"You're lying to your husband, Bambi. Which kind of makes me your mistress." Crowley smirked.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean were studying the surveillance pictures from the grocery store. Sam noticed that there was a van in the parking lot of the store with the words 'St. Bonaventure' on the side. The two hunters started to overhear an older lady at the police desk talking to an officer.

"Now, listen to me, young man." She demanded. "Those demons are back. I'm telling you, it's happening all over again."

"Demons?" the officer raised his brows skeptically.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Demons. Are you deaf?"

"Yes, ma'am. You know what?" the officer sighed. "We're gonna take care of those demons right away. Now, do you need a ride home or something?"

"Don't patronize me, you little turd." She glared as Sam and Dean walked up.

"Hey, you know what?" Sam cut in. "We can take it from here. Um, agents Leiter and Bond."

Dean motioned for the woman to join them at the table. "Please."

~/~\~

A few moments later, Sam handed the woman a cup of warm tea.

"Here you are." He smiled softly.

"Thank you." She replied gratefully.

"Sure." Sam nodded. "Now, why don't you tell us all about these demons, Ms. Wilkinson?"

"Please, call me Julia." She corrected. "It's very simple, agents. They… they came to Milton."

"And?" Dean raised his brows.

Julia paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes. "I say 'demons,' and you two don't bat an eye, when everyone else around here thinks I'm nuts on toast."

"Maybe we're just a bit more open-minded than most," Dean replied with a small shrug.

"Maybe." Julia pursed her lips. "You're two of them, aren't you?"

"Sorry." Sam frowned. "Two of who?"

"Men of Letters," Julia replied, earning shocked expressions from the brothers. "They came here in 1958."

"Men of Letters came here?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yes." She nodded. "It was different then. I was different. They were a lovely couple."

A/N: Hey, guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I really liked writing this one :) As always, thank you for the recent reviews! Love y'all, xoxo :)

~Emily