Reacting quickly, Dean grabbed Emma by the arm and pulled her into the bathroom. "Shit, Shit, Shit!", he shouted. The demon pounded against the door and Dean knew it would be unlikely to last. Pulling a set of drawers, he forced them against the door, knowing it might buy them a few minutes. Dean spun round to look at Emma, who was quickly fastening a towel around her self. Dean grabbed the nearest of the rail and did the same. 'Come on Sammy', he muttered under his breath.
Sam was driving the Impala back from the store. He wondered if it would be over yet. He felt a little bad about setting Emma up like that – and also a little jealous. Dean to the rescue again, and this time it was fun...
Trying to push against the window, Emma couldn't get it to budge. Crying out in frustration, she turned to Dean. For a split second she caught his eye and blushed deeply. Breaking the gaze, Emma shouted at herself. This was definitely not the time or place for this sort of behaviour. What happened, happened, she just had to deal with the here and now. And here and now was one big ass demon who wanted to kill her, and possibly Dean. Striding across the bathroom, Dean tried the window. After attempting to creak it in he realised the window was plastic. And bolted to the frame. Dean turned to face Emma. "Hey if we get out of this alive, I'll book us into a real hotel", he said grinning. Emma couldn't help but return the grin. She knew the I don't give a crap persona of his was all just a way of keeping people at arms length, stopping them getting to close. And for once, it was strangely comforting.
Pulling into the motel parking lot, Sam killed the Impala's engine. He glanced over to the motel room, but couldn't see anything. Realising he would have to look through the window, he climbed out the car. The room was dark, but Sam could still see movement. He hoped to whatever God was out there that that wasn't his brother. Moving over and opening the door, Sam glanced in – and didn't expect to find what he seen. What looked much like the old paintings of Satan was currently trying to break down the bathroom door. Running back towards the Impala, Sam threw open the trunk and grabbed a shotgun. He hastily loaded it with rock salt whilst grabbing a number of sharp implements. Slamming the trunk shut, Sam rushed over to the motel room. Kicking the door open, he yelled out, "HEY!". As the demon swung round to look at him, Sam raised the shotgun and fired, realling slightly at the force.
Dean stopped what he was doing, and motioned for Emma to do the same. He heard the heavy, thudding footsteps move away from the door. And then silence. "Sammy?", Dean called out. He started to unlock the door, ignoring Emma's protests. Taking in the scene, Dean started grinning. Amazingly enough the plan had gone off without a hitch.
"And by the way", Sam said turning to look at Dean, "It's Sam, not Sammy", He moaned for the hundredth time.
Emma cautiously stepped out of the bathroom and gasped at what was before her. Ignoring the obviously wreaked room, Emma stared straight into the eyes of what she could only describe as, a monster. Its red, leather-like skin, seemed to stretch tightly over the rest of its body. The hump on its back caused it to be bent over, giving the impression that it was wide, rather than tall. The demon surged forward at Emma, and she jumped back in fright. But then she realised something was wrong. The demon couldn't move at all. Or at least not out of a very small spot. Her forehead frowned in confusion. She glanced between Sam and Dean, waiting for an explanation.
Dean laughed softly at the naive look on Emma's face. He pointed up to the roof, where she could see the faint white outline of what looked like chalk. "It's called a Devils Trap", Sam explained to her, "Any demon that walks into it, can't get out unless one of the lines are erased". Emma was still staring at it in some confusion. She didn't understand how a few simple lines could trap such a monstrosity. With one eyebrow still raised, she looked away from the ceiling, and simply said, "hmm".
She turned and looked around the rest of the room, the bed that her and Dean had been on minutes before, was reduced into a pile of splinters. The memory of what had just happened came flooding back to her, along with a faint blush. Suddenly very self-concious that all she had on was a towel, she walked over to her case and pulled out some clothes. Making sure she never made eye contact with any of the brothers, she walked hurriedly back into the bathroom. Once there, she looked the door and stood for a moment. Shivering at the cold that had finally reached her, she slipped the towel off and dressed herself into her top and jeans. She stood for a moment, listening to the brothers outside. She could hear Sam's voice, talking in what sounded like Latin. Feeling the room start to spin, she slumped down, grabbing onto the bath for support. The realisation had just hit her. She now knew what creeped about at night, in the shadows. Emma knew that from this moment onwards, her life would never be the same again.