AN: Hey guys! I know I have some readers out there, but I only have two reviewers! That's okay, but I hope to hear from you guys more. It'll make me feel better! BTW, big thanks to KeepCalmAndDoItLikeAFanGirl and AnnieMouse for writing those reviews; it was much appreciated. To show you the extent of my thanks, I would like to dedicate this chapter to you both. I hope it lives up to your expectations! Oh, and I forgot to mention in my last AN that I have no Beta, so any and all mistakes that I fail to notice are mine and mine alone. Thank you and I hope you enjoy! Review, please!

Disclaimer: I, sadly, still do not own the characters of the Supernatural series. *sigh* But I will thank Mr. Eric Kripke for coming up with this beloved show. I will be using some lines directly from episode twelve of season three "Jus in Bello." As previously stated, the episode, the show, and the lines belong to their respective owners. I own Scarlet, though, so no touchy!

Warnings: Some adult language in this chapter.

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I move my hands from behind my back, having taken them out of the handcuffs a while ago. Reaching forward, I poke Henriksen on the nose and say, "Boop!"

Springing away from the bars, Henriksen turns on his heel and leaves the room, the two other officers following closely behind him.

A few minutes later, I'm still watching the doors.

I hear my name come from my left. "Scar." It comes out slightly breathless, almost disbelieving.

Sighing, I turn and meet Dean's eyes. "Hi, D."

We've been staring at each other for the past couple of minutes. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Sam's head pivoting from side to side. I know he's trying to figure out just who the hell I was and what type of relationship I had with Dean. I silently laugh; I don't have much of a relationship with him. Last time I saw him was when I was seventeen; eleven years ago.

I hear Sam clear his throat to try and catch Dean's, or my, attention. Dean's head doesn't move, but I turn to look at him. It hurts just sitting there watching Dean and not knowing what could have happened between us had he stayed in Kansas. Or what could have happened any of the other times that I saw him. Shaking my head, I refocus my gaze on Sam's face.

If I didn't know any better, I would have said that Dean and Sam couldn't possibly be brothers. They look nothing alike. Where Dean has green eyes, Sam has hazel. Dean has light brown hair; Sam has dark brown, almost black hair. I think that Sam takes after John more and Dean takes after his mother more. I smile at the last memory that I have of Mary Winchester. She had the sweetest smile and the brightest soul. She was truly a breathtaking human being. With all the dark things that I've seen, she was and always has been a bright memory of mine. I just wish that I had more memories of my own mother.

I notice that Sam's looking at me in a strange way and realize that I've practically been checking him and his brother out. Not creepy or anything, Scarlet.

After another few minutes of tense silence, I finally break. "What?" This seems to break both of them out of the little spell they seemed to be under.

"Who exactly are you?" Sam's voice is weary, as if he doesn't know whether or not to trust me.

My eyes flicker over to Dean. I see that he's still watching me. I can't help but feel a little sad that he hasn't mentioned me to the most important person in his life. I chuckle internally at myself; it's not like you were there throughout the majority of his life. For all you know, he could've forgotten all about you in the eleven years that he hasn't seen you. Well, that wouldn't make sense since he just called you by your name. I close my eyes. I must really been going crazy. But I guess months and months travelling on the road alone can do that to a person.

My dad died three years back. We were hunting a werewolf when Dad tripped and his gun went off. It's a hell of a way to die for a hunter, but I suppose one of the more peaceful ways. He could've been eaten by the werewolf and died, but I guess it's a small mercy his death was quick.

Turning back to Sam and the conversation at hand, I reply, "I'm Scarlet Blackwood. You're Sam Winchester with your brother, Dean." Looking between the two of them, I notice that their hands are still cuffed behind their backs. Nodding my head in the direction of what I hope they take as their hands, I ask, "You want some help with those?"

Sam immediately agrees and turns his back towards me so I can pick the lock with the bobby pin I had in my hair. The cuffs open fairly easy and I turn to look at Dean. He seems to still be in a trance, so I hand Sam the bobby pin. He quickly takes care of Dean's cuffs and returns the pin back to me.

I'm watching the boys when we all hear a loud bang from the front of the station. Almost simultaneously, we all jump up. I crane my head around the corner to get a glimpse of the door. From my left, Dean asks, "Anything?" I scoff. I guess it figures that he would talk to me about what could be potentially dangerous. I can see why Dad never wanted me to associate with "normal" people.

"No, I don't see anything. I can see shapes, but no distinct features." Reaching down to my boot, I grab the knife that was hidden in there. With it in my hands, I immediately feel safer. My right hand fits perfectly into the grooves that are melded on the hilt of the blade. They're there due to years of use. This was my first knife. I've had it since I was seven. Dad gave it to me on my birthday.

"How'd you get that past them?" Sam asks incredulously.

I smirk. "I have my ways." Shaking my head, I try again. "I suppose they knew that one strong kick to the side of their head wasn't something they wanted to deal with. I am one hell of a fighter. Don't think they expected that." I laugh.

"I think you should back away from the bars, Scar. Hand the knife to me, too; I don't want you to hurt yourself with it." Dean sounds a little concerned. Almost as if he doesn't think that I could handle myself.

I raise my right eyebrow and cock my head slightly to the left. He really just said that to me. I manage to get a knife past an FBI agent and a handful of cops, after I kick one of their asses, and he still expects me to hand over my damn knife. Sorry, honey, isn't gonna happen.

Instead of dignifying that request with a response, I turn back to watch the doors. Not even a minute passes when a strange man saunters in. There's something off about him, though. He seems arrogant, more so than any other man that I had ever seen. He seems as if there was nothing that could touch him.

I feel unsettled. There was something wrong with this guy and I didn't like it. Not one bit.

The man walks forward and stops right outside of Dean and Sam's cell. He opens his mouth and says, "Sam and Dean Winchester." Then, he turns to me. "Scarlet Blackwood." To be the smart ass that I was, I salute him. He narrows his eyes and smirks, letting me know silently that he didn't think I was very funny. He continues, "I'm Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure."

I know that Dean's going to say something stupid. Just like he always does. "Well, glad one of us feels that way." Yep, I knew it. He went and said something stupid.

A creepy, sinister smile appears on Groves' face. My grip on my knife becomes tighter. I have a feeling this is going to go downhill, fast. "I've been waiting a long time for you two to come out of the woodwork."

I couldn't exactly tell you who reacted first; me or Steven. One moment, Steven has a gun out and he shoots Dean in the shoulder. Next, or at the exact same, moment, my knife was embedded into Steven's forearm, which caused the gun to clatter to the ground.

Steven's head then whips in my direction, his eyes black. Without even hesitating, I start reciting an exorcism in Latin. The demon's head whips back and forth before Steven says, "Sorry, I've gotta cut this short. It's gonna be a long night, fellas." Black smoke erupts from Steven's throat and his body falls limp to the cell block's floor.

Focusing my eyes on Sam and Dean, I see that they're watching me with awe in their eyes. I suppose one would be surprised if they had just seen a demon for the first time and I had just taken care of it in the blink of an eye. I notice that the wall behind Dean was coating in crimson, along with his right hand and jacket. Steven had successfully hit him in his left shoulder.

Henriksen and two other officers, Phil and the sheriff, barge into the cell room, followed by Reidy. After seeing Steven's body on the floor, Henriksen and Melvin immediately train their firearms on Sam and Dean while Reidy checks over Steven's body. I laugh quietly. They always assume that I couldn't have been the one to hurt a man; after all, I'm only a woman.

Melvin, the sheriff, starts yelling. "You shot him!" Melvin starts to wave his gun back and forth, accusing Sam.

Sam immediately starts to protest. "Wait! No, I didn't shoot him! Look at the body!"

Before Melvin can turn, Reidy is already reporting back to them. "He wasn't shot. There are no bullet wounds anywhere. There's only a knife in his forearm, but that wouldn't have killed anyone." Phil takes off his hat and starts to scratch his head. Apparently, this is bewildering to him.

"He's probably been dead for months." My eyes widen. I was just thinking the exact same thing as it came out of Dean's mouth. How could he possibly assume that? Anyone who wasn't a hunter would ever come to such a conclusion!

Before I can even open my mouth to ask how he knew that, Henriksen comes closer to their cell's bars. "What did you do to him?"

This time I respond. "We didn't do anything major. I was the one to put the knife in his forearm to make him drop his gun. He was the one who shot Dean in the shoulder. I wasn't trying to hurt him. If I were trying to do that, the knife would've been in his neck." I wasn't exactly trying to sound like a murderer, but I was kind of in shock. I really think that Sam and Dean are hunters and if that were true, I could have spoken to Dean all of those times that I ran into him. I will be royally pissed off if that were true. No one can say what'll happen when I get pissed. I can tell you, though, that it's not pretty and no one comes out unscathed.

Henriksen doesn't even glance my way. "Talk or I'll shoot." I really don't think he's kidding.

Dean just retorts. "You wouldn't believe us." I swear to God, if he says what I think he's going to say next, I will march right out this cell and punch someone in the face.

It wasn't Dean that said it though. Sam did. "He was possessed."

I started speaking before I could stop myself. "God damn it! You have got to be fucking kidding!" Quieting down, I see that everyone is looking at me. I don't really care because I'm too damn pissed. "What? He's telling you the truth. Steven Groves there was possessed by a demon and I exorcised it." I somehow managed to get these words out with a straight face, despite my anger.

"Are you guys crazy? Let's get them out of here!" Reidy reaches into his pocket to speak to the helicopter pilot. "Hello? Bill, are you there?" There's no response, other than static. Looking towards Henriksen, he nods to Reidy to have him check outside.

After a few tense moments of silence, Reidy's voice comes through the other officers' walkie-talkies. "They're dead. I think they're all dead." Not too long after that, hardly a minute, there was a flash of light outside and a large bang. It sounded like the helicopter had exploded.

Henriksen starts to frantically call Reidy's name through the walkie-talkie, but there is no response. Only static. With my sensitive hearing, I can faintly hear a scream coming from outside. I don't say that I heard it out loud, because I instinctively knew that it was Reidy and it wasn't the fire that got to him.

With a signal from Henriksen, all of the officers leave the cell room and go back into the office area.

Knowing that a conversation was about to arise between me and the brothers, I decide that I was going to speak first. "So, you guys are hunters, huh?" I didn't want to mention that I was a hunter too. Not yet, anyway.

The only responses I get are two identical looks of bewilderment. I don't think they expected me to know what a hunter is. If they haven't figured out that I am too already, they really aren't as sharp as I thought they were. Sam was the first to collect his bearings. "Yeah, we are. You are too, aren't you?"

I didn't even open my mouth to respond before Dean erupts. "No! Of course she's not? She can't be! Why would you think so Sam?" Dean's eyes looked wild. It almost looks like he doesn't want me to be a hunter. Fact is, I already am.

"Why can't I be a hunter, Dean? Isn't is a profession for just about anyone? Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to hunt." I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows. I can't wait to hear what comes from his mouth now.

Dean sputters and replies, "So you are a hunter. You didn't deny it."

I laugh. "No, I didn't deny it. It's true. I'm a hunter. I have been since I was six. That knife you see over there? A gift from my dad. It was my seventh birthday present." I didn't necessarily like talking about my childhood, considering I didn't have much of one. But as I look into Sam and Dean's eyes I can see that they've seen more than they bargained for too.

Before the conversation can go any farther, the lights go out. I hear a woman scream, but I assume that to be Nancy, the secretary that I saw on my way in here. Looking around and meeting the eyes of the brothers, I say, "That can't be good." By the looks on their faces, I see that they completely agree with me.

The doors from the office area swing open, revealing Nancy and officer Reidy. They head to the supply cabinet that's tucked away in the corner of the room. Nancy reaches in and hands Reidy some flashlights. Reidy immediately turns and takes them back to the office area.

Nancy's still there, reaching for more lights. She only resurfaces with one more flashlight in her hand before shutting the cabinet and turning to walk away. Sam speaks before she could leave. "Please, can you give me a towel? My brother's been shot. Can you just give me one clean towel?" Nancy turns and looks at Sam's kind, open face. Then she turns her gaze to Dean, who still has his hand pressed to his wound. She spins on her heel and exits the cell room.

Dean breathes, "Well, you tried."

Nancy comes back not a second later with a towel clutched in her hands. She doesn't approach Sam, though; she starts toward my cell. I observe her for a moment and see that she's going to hand me the towel to give to the boys.

Nancy cautiously walks close to my cell's bars and I reach out to take the towels. At the last second, I notice that she's wearing a rosary. I know that I might regret this, but I grab onto her arm and pull her towards me. Nancy starts to shriek as I pull the rosary from her neck.

I quickly let go and take several steps back as Reidy barges back into the room, pointing his gun toward me. I raise my hands to show him that I only have the towel in my hand. I have just hidden the rosary behind the towel so Nancy doesn't see it and request for it back. Seemingly satisfied, Reidy takes Nancy gently by the arm and leads her back to the office area.

"What the hell was that, Scar?" Dean's voice was disapproving. I roll my eyes. It's been over twenty years since the last time we spoke and here he was, giving me a lecture.

I hand Sam the towel so he can take care of Dean's wound. To answer Dean's question, I silently hold up Nancy's rosary. From the looks on their faces, I can tell that they are grudgingly impressed.

Taking the rosary, I start to make holy water from the toilet in my cell. You never know when you'll need it when being under attack from demons.

After taking care of that, Henriksen walks into the room. He starts asking all these questions about who's here and what the plan is. I assume that he's talking about if this was happening to save Sam and Dean. Dean quickly put those thoughts to rest with his response of, "Whatever's out there, it's not here to come save us."

Henriksen storms out of the room, not happy in the slightest. Dean, Sam, and I sit back down to relax as much as we can before shit hits the fan. I have a feeling that it's going to be soon.

I couldn't tell you how much time passes before Henriksen comes back in with the sheriff. An argument between them breaks out about whether or not they should leave. Too quick for my eyes to follow, Henriksen has pulled out his gun and shot Melvin in the head.

Henriksen walks into my cell and fires his gun at me, but misses. Swinging my arm around, I knock the gun onto the floor where I kick it toward Sam and Dean. I'm not sure if the gun makes it there or not, but I have much more to worry about at the moment. I start to struggle with Henriksen.

I knock Henriksen's knees out from under him and somehow manage to get his head in the water of the toilet. I immediately begin an exorcism on him when I hear Phil come in the doors. I hear Dean yelling at him to stay back while Sam yells to me to hurry up.

Henriksen's head rears back and I notice that his eyes are now black. He says, "It's too late. I already called them. They're already coming." I shove him back into the water as quick as I can and finish the exorcism. With a final shove back towards me, black smoke leaks out of Henriksen's mouth and he falls back, right on top of me.

"Is he dead?" I hear Nancy's timid voice come from somewhere behind me.

I continue to try and shove Henriksen off, but it's hard in the position that I'm in. I don't have any leverage. I don't have to wait long, though, because Henriksen sits up and starts to cough water up. I scramble away from him and press myself against the far wall. "Are you in there? You alright Henriksen?" I hoped he was alright. I'm about ready to fall over and sleep. I think it has been about two days since I slept last.

Henriksen sits on the bed that's in my cell. Disbelievingly, he says, "I shot the sheriff."

Dean, ever the asshole, remarks, "But you didn't shoot the deputy." He laughs, but it dies when he sees Sam's look of disbelief.

Dean and Sam take care of the "yes, you were possessed" conversation for me. Afterwards, Henriksen asks for the keys to our cuffs and unlocks them. Mine first, then Sam and Dean's. All three of us come out of our cells and meet with Henriksen and the rest of the staff out in the office area.

With a look of utter seriousness, Henriksen turns to us and asks, "Alright. How do we survive?"

I sigh. The demon that was inside Groves was absolutely right. This is going to be a long ass night.

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AN: Well folks, this was chapter two! I know that it was shorter than chapter one, but I promise that I'll try my hardest to have chapter three be super long. So long, that you'll be begging for it to end. Okay, maybe not quite that long, but you get what I mean. Thanks for reading. Please, please, please review!