FIFTEEN

Lisbon, Maryland

January 21st, 2009

The wind had picked up even more and snowflakes swirled around their heads as Dean and Reggie made their way around the side of the house to the small tin shed hidden among the trees.

"Damn it's cold," Dean complained, yanking his coat closed as the wind whipped through the trees. He noticed that snow had begun to accumulate on the grass and on top of the cars parked on the street.

"Storm's coming," Reggie stated as she watched Dean survey the falling snow. "It looks like it's going to be a bad one, too. When we get back inside I'm going to check out the local weather stations, see what they're forecasting." She unlocked the bolt on the shed door and tried to push it open. It screeched a few inches, then stopped. Reggie pushed at it for a few more seconds, but the door refused to budge any further. "It's stuck," she grunted, still continuing to shove at the door.

"Here, let me," Dean offered.

"Sure, big man. Give it a try," Reggie said sarcastically as she stepped aside, waving Dean forward. Dean rubbed his hands together and stretched his arms as he stepped forward. The metal shed was frigid against his bare hands and he shuddered as a chill ran through him. Dean braced his boots in the frozen ground and shoved, hard. The shed door didn't budge forcing him to scramble in order to stop himself from falling forward. "Careful," Reggie chuckled.

Several more shoves later, the door was open enough for Reggie to squeeze through and she began handing stuff out to Dean. He stuck as much as he could into a beat-up wheel barrel and wheeled it back to the house, dumping it onto the back porch. He knocked once on the door for Sam and Ruby to start bringing the stuff in and started back around to the shed again.

Just as he was crossing the yard, Dean heard a muffled crash from inside the shed. "What are you doing in there?" Dean called to Reggie. When there was no response, he dropped the wheel barrel and raced around the side of the house towards the shed, dread rising in his chest. "Reggie?" he yelled. There was nothing but silence. Dean ran to the open door of the shed and yelled again into the dark.

"Yeah," Reggie finally moaned.

Relief flooded through Dean. "Are you okay?" he asked, pulling out his penlight. He shined it inside, trying to find Reggie amongst the chaos.

"Some stuff shifted and fell on me," Reggie groaned again. Dean spotted her pinned under a pile of boxes and tools in the farthest part of the shed. She pushed against a box on her left leg which only caused more stuff to begin to slide. She paused in her efforts to get free. "I think I'm stuck."

"Hold on. I'll come in and see if I can get you out," Dean said.

He began pulling out various boxes and storage containers so that he could maneuver better. After a few minutes work, he was able to clear enough stuff away for Reggie to get herself up without anything else falling on her. Dean offered his hand to her and she took it, gratefully. They squeezed back outside and Dean flinched as a small box filled with something metal inside crashed to the shed floor. He glanced at Reggie and realized she was bleeding from a gash on her forehead.

"Let me take a look at that," he offered, pointing at the wound. Reggie raised her hand and winced as her fingers settled on the cut. Dean took a step forward and Reggie tilted her head back so that he could get a better look.

"It doesn't look that deep," he noted, pressing lightly around the edges with his fingertips. "I don't think you'll need stitches." He smiled down into her green eyes, becoming very aware of their close proximity. Back off, Dean, he warned himself. He took a step back and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Dean could feel Reggie's eyes on him as he tried to look anywhere but at her.

"I think there are only a few more boxes in there that we need," Reggie finally stated. Dean figured it was safe, that he didn't have to worry about the risk of meeting her gaze, and looked back at her again. She was staring into the shed with a resigned expression on her face.

"I'll get them. Just point at the ones we need and I'll hand them out to you," Dean offered. He chuckled as he stared at Reggie. "Besides. I think one head wound for you today is enough. We don't want to risk you getting concussed by Frosty or Rudolph," Dean teased, pointing at the large plastic Christmas decorations shoved to the side. Reggie laughed and pushed at Dean as he squeezed back into the shed. Dean grabbed a box and went to hand it to her before he realized he had left the wheel barrel by the side of the house. "Damn, I forgot the wheel barrel."

"I'll go get it," Reggie stated, plopping the box, which was filled with cans of spray paint and buckets of chalk, onto the ground. He watched her start across the snow covered lawn, before stepping back into the shed. Dean had just turned back to the mess inside when he heard Reggie's voice. The wind made her words muffled and incomprehensible inside the small metal shed, so Dean stuck his head back outside.

"What'd you…" he trailed off. Reggie was frozen in place, a gun pointed at a man in a long, tan trench coat standing in the center of the lawn.

"I asked you who the hell you are. And since I'm the one holding the gun, maybe you should answer me," Reggie snapped.

"I am looking for Dean Winchester. I mean you no harm," the man replied shortly.

"Reggie, it's okay," Dean called out, scrambling out of the shed and in his haste, knocking over a few boxes. "This is Castiel," Dean explained. Reggie turned to Dean, a shocked and slightly confused look on her face. "He's an angel." Reggie turned back to Castiel, this time with an awed expression, and dropped her hands, the one with the gun swinging numbly at her side.

"Sorry…I…" Reggie stammered. Castiel nodded at her then turned his attention to Dean.

"You are aware of what has been happening, I take it."

"That Lilith was planning on using the fool's ritual to lore us into a trap? And now there's a small battalion of demons on their way to try and kill us because we figured it out?" Dean shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. "Yeah we know."

"Then you know the demons were following Ruby."

"Yeah, we know that too," Dean said in an apathetic tone. "She didn't know they set her up, Cas. It was a mistake, that's all."

The angel shook his head at Dean. "You realize what you have brought down on this girl and her uncle? What will likely happen to them?" Castiel stated, his voice matter-of-fact as he stared at Dean. "They will die , Dean. There is no way to save them from what is coming for you and Sam."

Dean groaned at the angel. "She's aware of what's coming. Reggie knows the score, Cas. She's a hunter and her uncle was a hunter. They've dealt with things like this before. And Sam and I are here, too."

"But you can't protect them while fighting for your life, Dean. You should have left while you still had the chance."

"If we'd left, she would definitely die. Demons aren't known to leave a hunter alive in any situation, and if they would have come here and found that we were gone…" Dean sighed and glanced at Reggie who still stood beside him, silent, as she listened to the conversation between Dean and the angel. "We had to stay. And this place is as good as any for a fight."

Castiel sighed. "You aren't thinking…" he began before Reggie interrupted him.

"I don't see you offering to stay and fight," Reggie growled at the angel, finally deciding to join the conversation. "Am I wrong, but it sounds like you're just scolding Dean, not giving your support? You talk about that dem-…about Ruby like she's the enemy, but at least she's helping. At least she's staying to fight." Dean gaped at Reggie as she glared at the angel.

"You don't understand what Dean's responsibility is. He obviously has not told you everything. I don't suppose he even told you why all these demons want to kill him?" Castiel's voice had an edge of anger to it that shocked Dean.

"He's told me enough," Reggie stated, but Dean caught the uncertain glance she threw at him. "It's not like I really asked, either," she said with more certainty.

"I am only concerned with Dean's safety. He is extremely important, his mission is extremely important. But you are right, I am not offering to stay and fight with you. My orders are not to interfere unless absolutely necessary."

"Unless absolutely necessary? A group of murdering demons headed here to kill all of us isn't enough for you? For Him?" Reggie snapped, jerking a finger at the darkening skies. She took a step towards the angel, the hand not holding the gun clenched into a fist. Dean stepped forward and put his hand on Reggie's shoulder, holding her in in place.

"It's not the first time my ass has been on the line and there was no help from above." Dean glanced briefly at the angel. "The consensus seems to be that if I'm not capable of saving my own ass, then I wasn't worth pulling from Hell; that I should be back in the pit, burning on a slab. That's okay, though. I've been taking care of things just fine all my life. I can continue on that road." Dean reached down and took the gun from Reggie's hand. "We'll be fine. Thanks for the belated warning, Cas, but we've still got some work to do, so if you'll excuse us…"

"I will be watching, Dean." The angel disappeared just as there was a loud clap of thunder overhead, making Dean groan again at the dramatic exit.

"What the hell does that mean?" Reggie asked, turning to look at Dean. "Is that his way of saying that he may help if we really need it or just angel speak for "don't screw up"?"

"Probably both." Dean shrugged. "We really should get back inside though. We don't know when what's coming will get here and there's still a lot of work to do." Dean sighed and handed the gun back to Reggie. She took it and slipped it behind her back, into the waistband of her jeans. "You could still get out, you know," Dean said as they began walking back to the house, the other boxes in the shed already forgotten. Reggie stopped in her tracks and glared at him.

"Just stop, Dean. I've already told you, I'm not going anywhere. This fight is as much mine as it is yours. The fate of the world doesn't rest solely on your shoulders, you know." Dean rolled his eyes.

"If only you knew," he muttered to himself as he followed Reggie back across the lawn.

They had been working for almost three hours in total silence, no one saying a word, each lost in their own thoughts. Reggie and Dean were upstairs, sealing windows with rock salt and drawing devil's traps where they could. The two bathrooms were stocked with as much holy water as they could manage and Sam was in the process of filling a box of canteens with the blessed water they'd filled the kitchen sink with.

Ruby was in the living room loading guns and setting them up for easy access. Frank sat in the kitchen with Sam, muttering incoherently to himself. Reggie had tried to explain to him what was going on, had tried to make him understand why he couldn't leave the room, no matter what. It had been like talking to a small child and it pained Sam to watch; this hunter who could no longer do the job he had done all his life.

Frank had asked for a weapon, had offered to help, but Reggie wasn't sure it was a good idea. She was afraid he wouldn't remember what was going on when all hell broke loose and that was enough for Dean to want to keep the man out of the battle. The plan was to have someone with him, alternating through the wait. The kitchen was going to be a main entry point, but it was also the most defendable, making it the safest place in the house apart from the basement. The basement was their last resort. They all knew that if they went down there, they weren't coming back up. It was a dead end, in the most real sense.

"Well, I think that's it. All we can do now is wait for them to come," Reggie announced as she entered Frank's bedroom, tossing an empty salt bag onto the unmade bed. Dean stood up, having just finished drawing a devil's trap on the floor in front of the only window in the room. He brushed his hands together, trying to get the black chalk off his fingertips.

"So…" she began. Dean looked up at Reggie, curious at the tone in her voice. She sighed heavily and plopped onto the end of the bed. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think it's time I know a little bit more about what I've gotten myself into." Dean sat down on the bed beside her, their shoulders slightly touching. He sighed and put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples lightly with his thumbs.

"You're right, you should know what this is about. And I think it's time you hear all of it," Dean said. He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. "When I went to hell, it was…well, it was hell. I was burned and torn at, tortured by means you can't even imagine. It was never-ending or, at least, I thought it was." Dean hesitated, deciding to skip over the exact details of his time in hell.

"Then one day five months ago, I found myself trapped in a box, my coffin as it turned out, basically buried alive. I clawed my way out, stole a car, and found Sam with Bobby's help. I was having these weird, episodes I guess you could call them, where I heard this awful noise, this sonic screech. It was unbelievable and so Bobby brought us to his psychic friend, Pamela Barnes. She tried contacting the source of the noise. We thought it was a spirit, a poltergeist or something, attached to me, so we did a séance-like ritual to get it to show itself. Only Pamela's eyes were seared out of her head.

"It was awful but we still didn't know what it was that was following me. Finally, the entity decided it was time for me to see what it was: an angel."

"Castiel blinded Pamela?" Reggie gasped, guessing the event correctly. Dean nodded, but held up his hand to stop her from asking anymore questions.

"By accident, yes. A human isn't meant to look at their real form, not a living human, anyway. It's like pure light and it just burned Pamela's eyes right out of her head.

"Anyway, Castiel told me that he was the one who pulled me out of the pit, on God's orders. He said that I was freed because I'm supposed to stop Lilith from raising the devil. That by opening sixty-six seals, basically the gates to hell, Lucifer will be able to walk the Earth and all humanity will be destroyed. Lilith, of course, doesn't want to be stopped. She's been trying to kill us for a while. Ever since she got the contract for my soul. She's had a couple of chances, too, but it appears she can't kill Sam."

Dean paused, trying to decide if he should tell Reggie about Sam's freaky demon-blood powers. He remembered what it was like when other hunters had found out about them; Gordon Walker and another hunter by the name of Kubrick had hunted them. They figured that anything that was attained by demon blood had to be bad and the carrier, like with an infection, needed to be exterminated. Dean knew he couldn't leave it out without leaving more questions. He had to hope for a better reaction, like Bobby and Ellen's had been.

Dean took another deep breath and stood up, walking to the window to stare out at the raging snow storm blowing outside. "Lilith can't kill Sam because the yellow-eyed demon who killed our parents did something to him. Bled into his mouth when he was a baby, on the night our mother was murdered, and changed him. He has these abilities and, it seems, they make him immune to her, to her powers. I still don't understand most of it so it can be a little hard to explain properly."

Dean frowned at his reflection in the window. "Sam's not a demon, so don't think that," he rushed out, realizing as he said it, he wasn't so convinced himself anymore.

"Because Lilith can't kill him herself, because he presents a threat to her, she's been trying to get rid of us by other means. She set up this trap, this fool's ritual, to kill us. We came to town, following her little breadcrumbs, and started looking around.

"When we couldn't identify the pentagram, Sam called Bobby to see if he could help. So Bobby called around, you called him back with the only lead we could get, and that basically brings us to where we are now. The trap was tripped because of the info you gave us. So now Lilith's improvising, sending lackeys to do her dirty work."

Dean wiped at the window, his breath having fogged it over, and continued to stare out. The room was darker, the storm having blotted out most of the sun. He could just make out another house in the distance. He waited for Reggie to speak, waited for her to say something, anything, but she remained quiet.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and he turned around to look at her. She was still sitting on the bed, watching him. "Are you going to say, I don't know, something?" Dean asked, anxiety oozing from every inch of his body.

"Well…" Reggie began hesitantly. She seemed to be struggling to find words. "Can you sit down please? Looking at you standing up is giving me a crick in my neck," she snapped. Dean immediately obeyed and sat down on the bed beside her again, giving her more space this time. Reggie took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. "I just wanted to know what this demon, Lilith, was up to. Why she wanted to get rid of you and Sam so bad to do it," she murmured.

Reggie met his gaze and gave Dean a small, half-smile. "But I'm glad you decided to tell me all of it. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me everything." She sighed and stood up. Dean followed her with his eyes, watching her face, trying to read what was going on inside her head. "Can I ask you one more question? I promise it'll be the last."

"Shoot."

"Ruby and Sam are…involved, aren't they? They're close?" Dean nodded. It still disturbed him to think his brother had gone there with a demon. "Well, that isn't something you see every day, is it?" Reggie muttered as she plopped down next to Dean again. She leaned against his shoulder, the warmth emanating from one body comforting to the other. Dean could smell her shampoo, much stronger now because of the close proximity, and he inhaled. She shifted slightly to face him, her knee pressing warmly against his. Her green eyes flickered to his and she smiled when she saw he was staring at her.

Dean reached up and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear and felt her shudder lightly at his touch. He smirked and placed his hand gently against her cheek. "You know, usually at this point I would be making my move," Dean said, his voice low and husky.

"What's stopping you?" Reggie whispered back. When Dean opened his mouth to respond, she rolled her eyes, grabbed the front of his shirt in her hand, and pulled his lips to hers. The kiss was soft, but intense, making Dean's head swim. Hands began to roam as his eyes drifted closed.

"Ahem," a throat cleared from the doorway. Dean and Reggie pulled apart and turned to find Sam standing in the doorway. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, but I think you guys better come see this." Dean saw Reggie blush before she strode from the room. Dean beamed at Sam who just shook his head. "Thought you weren't going there?" Sam teased as they made their way down the hall.

"Hey, she kissed me!"

"Sure she did," Sam replied sarcastically. Dean tried to pretend he was offended by Sam's assumption, but couldn't hold the indignant look he'd been going for. A grin spread across his face once more.

"What's up?" Dean asked as they entered the living room. Ruby was standing behind the couch, which had been overturned to use for cover, looking out the bay window. Reggie stood stiffly a few feet from her and when she turned to look at Dean, his stomach sank at the expression on her face. Dean glanced at Sam, noticing the grave look in his brother's eyes for the first time and went to see what they were looking at.

Out in the yard stood nine people, men and women of different ages and races, all staring back at the Connors' house. It was evident from the way they were standing that each and every one of them was possessed by a demon, their black onyx eyes apparent through the swirling snow that whipped around them.

For several minutes, no one moved, no one said a word. As they watched from inside the house, a woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties with long bleach-blonde hair and dressed in nothing but a red silk shift negligee, lifted her hand and motioned with one finger for them to come outside. Dean snorted, breaking the silence.

"Screw you," he said, knowing he didn't need to shout for the demons on the lawn to be able to hear him. The woman shook her head sadly and grinned a twisted smile. A tall black man who couldn't have been much younger than Frank, dressed in a one-piece, dark blue repairman's jumper, raised his hand. He waved once at them, mockingly, then pointed his finger like a gun at the transformer in front of the house, and pretended to pull the trigger. The transformer exploded in a shower of sparks and blue flame. The lights inside the house abruptly went out.