A/N-Thank you so much for reading. This chapter was revised 4/7/15

"Ms. Ulrich's" (Reporter's) POV

I sat on the couch at the Starlight Motel, staring at the pictures on the wall, chewing on the back of a pen. This case had me stumped; no monster or ghost I had heard of, or hunted for that matter, could kill like this. If these murders didn't occur every 31 years for as far back as the town's records, I would have just chalked it up to some crazy serial killer. I needed help, opening my phone I called his number again, and just like the last dozen or so times, straight to voicemail, "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If it's an emergency, call my son Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

"You son of a bitch." I yelled out loud, throwing the phone onto the couch. The Liene girl had disappeared two nights ago, at any moment the police were going to find her body. Since I had started hunting four years ago John had never ignored my calls, especially when I got into shit this deep. The police radio on the table began to chirp, "All available units, just called in. Unidentified female found on the south end of town. Dead on scene."

"Shit, damn, fuck."

I quickly dressed into the business suit that I had "bought" on the way here. Also known as the suit that I lifted from the store on the way here. I pulled my curly brown hair into a tie and put a pair of glasses on. Pretending to be a reporter usually wasn't usually my thing, but I figured an FBI agent showing up in town the morning of a single murder of a young boy would rouse some suspicion. I did one final check in the mirror. My reflection stared back. I'm stocky, wide hips and wide shoulders, barreled chest. Dad always told me I was built to work; my unfeminine muscles and dark tan skin was a testament to years working at farms, and now hunting. This was in direct contradiction to my face. High cheekbones sat blow my eyes that were brown ringed with bright green. Like the rest of myself there was something that was strong yet soft about them. My nose turns out slightly at the end, and my lips are thin, sitting above a strong jaw and chin. At 20 years old I had thrown a potential future away because I could not sit and do nothing once I started seeing all the people that were dying. All the people that were getting hurt. I couldn't not hunt especially after a hunter saved me and my sister.

Keep running was all I could think, my heart pounded through my chest. Save Maggie, get her out. But this psycho kept coming after us even after I put two rounds in his chest; his buddy was nowhere to be seen. Crashing through the cornfield, I could hear the footsteps behind me, the laughing. Concentrating so hard on pulling my ten year old sister behind me as we came out of the field, I ran headlong into a person standing on the road and let out a shriek, hands clamped down on me and I fought hard. A voice growled, "Get down, God dammit."

It was the FBI agent who had come to town after the fifth murder. I hit the pavement and pulled Mags down with me. In the dark I saw him throw water on the man as he came out of the corn. His eyes went black and he smoked, screaming in pain. The FBI agent pulled him into the trunk of that old Impala that he drove off, leaving us on the road. Alone and confused.

Drinking my coffee, I drove to the south eastern part of town and saw the lights from the cops' cars. I pulled the Camaro alongside the shoulder and pulled my ID and business card out of the glove compartment along with my pen and paper. Looking up I saw it, the Impala. John must have got my messages, must be here to help. I scanned the crowd for him, my breath caught.

I drove around town looking for that goddamn Impala. After what I saw last night there was no way in hell this guy was an FBI agent, we hadn't even been asked for an official statement and I shot the guy twice. I saw that car sitting at the second of the only two motels in town. I walked straight up to the door and knocked; as the door cracked I pushed my way in.

"What the hell?" He exclaimed.

I turned on him, "Who are you? There is no way you are FBI. And what was that thing last night?"

He regained his composure, "What are you talking about miss. I apprehended a suspect and am now pursuing his partner."

I laughed humurlessly, "Bull-shit. I put two deer slugs in him and he didn't even slow down. What the hell is going on?"

I stood toe to toe with him, not backing down. He had the audacity to smirk at me, "Fine. Have it your way, I don't have time for this shit. My name is John Winchester, that thing last night was a demon. I threw Holy water on it and exorcised it last night. Monsters are real, ghosts are real, and everything that makes girls like you feel safe is a lie. People like me hunt things like that."

I pondered on this for a moment. I knew in my heart before my brain even processed it that I owed a debt. And every debt must be paid, "Show me how."

"How to do what?" He was annoyed, voice raising, hands becoming more animated.

"Hunt like that, fight monsters, save people."

"Absolutely not. You don't know the first thing. This isn't a day care and I am not your babysitter."

I stared back at him, determined, "Show me how to or I will just figure it out on my own. I need to do this."

Snorting, John said to me, "You're a ballsy little shit, aren't you? What's your name?"

"Jennifer Wesson".

Sam and Dean Winchester were talking to Sheriff Anderson. This was it, everything John had told me, everything that I knew was about to begin. I felt it in my gut, something was going to go down, it was in motion. I looked again in the rearview mirror, 'you can do this' I told myself. I stepped out as well as I could in these damn heels and walked to where the Sheriff was speaking to them. I had to let them on to me without confronting them, just like John had told me, it has to be their decision, "Sheriff Anderson! Sheriff…"

He turned to the Winchesters, probably grumbling about me, then faced me, "Yes Miss Ulrich? What can I do for your today?"

Be professional, and don't stare at them, "Could I get an official statement on what is happening here?"

"Like I told you before ma'am I can't disclose official police business. I can tell you that this is Amy Liene, who disappeared last week."

"The 21 year old that disappeared with the doors locked. Is there any connection between her and the Snyder boy?" Of course there is no connection that he can see. This town's good Sheriff couldn't have been bothered to look back a few years in the town's records.

He was snarling now, pissed, "As I have already told you, I cannot and will not disclose any information relating to an ongoing investigation."

Alrighty you little shit, let's see what your smart answer is for this, "Well if there is no connection, why is the FBI here?"

Dean almost choked, trying to contain his amusement, and the good sheriff looked like someone took a big old shit in his morning Wheaties, "My patience is wearing very thin with you Miss Ulrich."

"That's fine Sheriff, I am done with you for now." Looking over at Sam and Dean I nodded, "Agents", and turned away. Hopefully it had been enough, hopefully the Sheriff's bitching would help. I really needed help and at this point I am not too picky on who I get it from. I reached my car, sat on the hood and closed my eyes…

"Uff", I grunted as I drug the struggling body into the empty house we had found, "How the hell do you carry bodies around all the time without getting caught?"

"It's a gift... nah, just kidding. It is a combination of watching your back, finding secluded locations, and making sure you are not being watched."

We tied the demon to the chair inside the devil's trap that John showed me how to make, teaching me that once inside, the demon becomes powerless and unable to leave. I finished the last knot, "So now that he is all tied up all we have to do is exorcise him? Does it get rid of it permanently?"

"No, it sends it back to Hell, and with any luck it will be a few hundred years before it claws its way back out again. Here," he handed me the journal he carried with him, "read it, you will see."

With a deep breath began to read, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"

The demon was shrieking, his eyes black, yelling incoherently, "John Winchester, you know about your little Sammy don't you. How your wife really burnt up on that ceiling…"

John threw Holy water on it and it screamed again, "Finish it Jen.."

I inhaled shakily, "Ergo, draco tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire,te rogamus, audi nos."

With that black smoke rose from its mouth and burned through the ground. The man it had been possessing was dead. We got in the car and John was driving me home. Down the road he stopped, handing me a stack of papers, "This is a copy of most of the stuff in my journal. Everything I know about monsters is in there. Do not go picking fights if you don't have to until you get your sea legs, you hear me?"

"Yes sir."

"You can call me anytime on a hunt if you get in a jam or you bit off more than you can chew, I will help if I can."

I nodded and he handed me two more things, "This is a picture of my boys, Dean and Sam. This isn't going to make a lick of sense now but you are going to meet them some day. Jen, you cannot let them know who you are or that you know me until they approach you. That is very important do you understand?"

I nodded, slightly confused, "I don't let them know who I am until they approach me. Why?"

"It needs to be their decision or they will second guess themselves. They need you as much as you need them. I wasn't sure before but you guys need each other, they need your help. You have to memorize that photo. When they approach you give them that envelope. It has instructions from me for them. Do not open it, give it to Dean."

And with that we parted ways.