Hi!

Thanks to everyone once again, as you are awesome!

Once again, special thanks to keacdragon who has helped me on making sure this is not a total information dump on you guys, 'cause that is just…

Also, thanks to blitzsfreak, Akii-1 and sammysmissingshoe!

Once again, I own nothing.

ALSO IF YOU WANT TO SEE THE SYMBOL, IT IS THE COVER OF THIS STORY.

Now continue!

-lem

…

…

…

Sera

My knees went to jelly as I collapsed on the nearby couch. I put my head in my hands and clutched my hair at the roots. My mind has literally just blew up into 20 different parts and scattered all the way over the other side of the globe. Bobby was stood where I left him, shell shocked in the corner. Dean slowly guided Bobby to his desk, about 16 different corded phones behind. I squinted, as these contact lenses were not the best, and I wasn't great at seeing long distance. But they all had different things on. The blue on said F.B.I, another C.D.C, C.I.A and lots more. I pushed a book out of the way and drew my legs up to my chest.

This was impossible. This is just nuts. This is absolutely crazy with a sprinkle of what attached.

But I recognised this place, to a certain extent. No memories of it, they were gone at the flick of a switch, but instead… familiarity.

"You are joking." I felt almost sick, and it was taking all of my effort not to throw up on the threadbare couch. I mustn't have had enough sleep, and this was the reaction. It had been 2 or 3 days. I looked up wearily at the room. The ragtag misfits.

"Anything on Lucifer or Michael, Bobby? Bobby, hey!" Dean waved his hand in front of Bobby's face, staring at me like a ghost that he had knew. Well from the way he was talking, I was presumed M.I.A, but not hunting. I was going to get some answers, but not all now. Not about me.

"Lucifer and Michael? Aren't they archangels, what do you want with them, to do baking or what?" I rubbed my head, as I was now starting to get a migraine.

"You have heard of angels having vessels?" Sam asked. I groaned in agreement, sleep deprivation not aiding me.

"Do you know that angels have one true vessel?" I rubbed my eyes.

"What? No, angels have supposedly got to have vessels to walk the earth, kinda like demons, but not true vessels."

"Well not all are suited to hold an angel, right?" I nodded, trying to cry at the familiarity of this small house and sleep deprivation. Bobby noticed and came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder, leaning heavily on a cane, in an almost fatherly way. It must have been instinct. I noticed a wheelchair in the corner of the room. By the poor state of his legs, it must have been Bobby's. I nodded. "Well some have a true vessel, the strongest. It's the one that if anything goes wrong and they need to be on earth, they go to. They can take others, but they are the first choice."

"So Mikey and Luci have these vessels? Are they in them? Please tell me you have found them." Sam and Dean looked at each other with shifty glances. I looked back and forth between them, finally clicking.

"Oh shit. You two are both-Wow. Did the Winchester family pull the short straw a while back? You idjits are so fucked, it is almost funny to someone not involved. But then again, everyone is involved 'cause it's the apocalypse for Christ's sake. So, who is who?" I never said idjits, was told never to say it. Now I understand. The only other person who has ever said it, as far as I knew, was Bobby. I could be used against him.

"I'm Michael, Sammy here is the devil." I whistled. And, that sucks.

"Okay then."

"Okay?!"

"Yeah. I need sleep. Possibly 4 days to be able to function properly. So, night."

I took out my contact lenses and set a pair of glasses next to me. Slowly I started falling asleep, to get away. I always thought I could get away in sleep.

And I always knew the nightmares would find me.

…

Pain. The pain. I saw someone above me, a sharp knife in hand. I felt hooks in my shoulders, scabs re-opening, barbs under my skin. I wiggled away, but my arms were now connected to hooks, every time I moved an inch, my body filled up with pain. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from screaming. I had made a resolution in this place. And I intended to keep it.

I looked over at the portal-space cage about 10 foot away. Rumour has it, Lucifer has been locked up in there for all time. They must class me as a high risk prisoner being stuck in here, next to the lockbox.

Alistair then towered over me. I shrunk back, fear probably evident on my face.

"Now, now girlie, the offer still stands. I'll put down my blade. But only if you pick up one." I gritted my teeth, as the pain from the barbs were intensifying.

"Go shove it dumbass." He started carving away just above my collarbone. But I refused to scream.

"Now now, kids these days." He continued to carve away, blood dripping onto my already tattered clothes. "I remember when humanity had respect, but alas. So, are you going to show me some respect. Tell me your decision then."

I spat at him. "Once again, go shove it where the sun shines, sir dumbass."

He started hacking then, and I started to sing, voice cracked but still intact.

"Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done,

L-lay your weary head to rest,

Don't you cry no more." Alistair looked at me with fury and confusion.

"Girl, you have a stronger will then I would have thought." I continued to quietly sing in my own little world, trying to block out the torture. "So where haven't we done yet. I feel like our regime is too-predictable. Let's spice things up eh Sera?" he flicked his wrist as my sense on gravity was inverted and I was no longer staring at Alistair, only the floor, to an extent anyway. I don't think hell had a floor.

"Let's try your back eh, I don't think we have tried that yet." I didn't reply only continued the verse I was on.

"Masquerading as a man with a reason,

My charade is the event of the season-"

I felt a knife cut open the long sleeved, or once long sleeved shirt as I braced myself for the pain and the point of the knife.

"What in this realms name is that?" I was about to ask what or say some witty retort, but my question was answered when the knife started tracing the birth mark on my back. I let out a sigh of relief. It was the first break I had got from torture in the pit for what, 30 years?

And it was never ending. How long had I really been down here?

"It's called a birthmark, never saw one before? Shocking." He sounded confused when he answered in his slimy voice.

"That isn't normal, you're not normal are you? Most crack after 30, but you? What are you, really? You must be pretty special between the memory wipe and these-"He tapped the one on my waist. "You- you aren't exactly normal. So you are going to get the special treatment." I felt a burning pain as Alistair started laughing and I pulled away from that memory/dream, and entered another one.

One almost as bad. The one that haunts my soul.

…

It was just a regular demon hunt. Just a small possession case in Salt Lake City. But it was too big. The demon, it was almost as big and powerful as a knight of hell. Well, the rumours of how powerful they were anyway.

The claws of the hellhound, went straight into my heart. My vision was slowing, the demon laughing in the background as I coughed up crimson. My eyesight was going dark around the edges as I thought

Bested by a mutt. Great.

But there was a flash of light. That demon, it went running as fast as it could. I couldn't see the hellhound, but I felt a thud. It must have been killed by something. A hand was put around me, stabilising me. I was about to say something, but I couldn't. Blood tricked from the corner of my mouth as I looked up at my saviour. Well, the one that was too late, anyway.

"Sera, keep your eyes on me, and try to stay awake." He looked like he should belong in an office, not with a silver blade in his hand. His shirt was flecked with blood, like he had been standing by a fan and some red paint.

Blood. My blood. I thought, numbly. I didn't want to die. Scratch that, I didn't mind dying. I just didn't want to go back to hell. I was sure that Alistair would make a welcome home banner, with celebration and a fucking parade of torture before going back on the rack.

"Sera. I am here." Did I know him? He pulled something out of his pocket, but I didn't see anything else, as I blacked out.

…

The first thing I saw was enough junk food to kill someone dead.

I was in some sort of a house, with a man in a black suit munching on a chip, dripping grease. He was old, but not overly so, in a dark suit. A cane was by his side. He noticed me and stood up, large white gem in his ring twinkling.

"Seraphine. So good to finally meet you. Chip?" I shook my head and he sat back down. He looked at me, almost staring into my soul. This guy, was something, but what?

"Who are you?" I asked. Whatever this guy was, he radiated power, even I could tell that.

"Well that is the question, isn't it? I have many names, but you can call me Death." Shit. Big daddy reaper? Capital D-Death?

Well if I'm seeing him, I'm dead. Wonderful.

"Am I dead?" I asked, mouth going dry.

"For now."

"For now? Isn't death kind of, you know, permanent?!"

"Normally-Yes. For you-No. You're special Sera, you just can't tell yet. Someone is pulling the strings, making you come back. Already, you won't be dead in what- a few minutes so, enjoy peace while you can. The only ones that have saw me, humans, and haven't stayed dead, are those Winchester boys. When then eventually die, for good this time, I am going on holiday. A long holiday full of junk food." He gestured to the mounds of pizza, chips and-holy shit-was that a deep fried mars bar? That was obesity on a stick. "I love you humans. Petty but wow, you make good food." I raised my eyebrows. When I met my reaper, I thought he would be a grumpy, almost personality-less, just doing his job. Instead, I get death the horsemen, with a bucket full of sarcasm, attitude problem and junk food addiction.

I felt myself slipping away.

"He is healing you girl, you better be grateful."

"Wait, will I see you again soon?" Hey, he might know when I'm actually going to snuff it, so no harm in asking.

"Yes, we will become best friends." I glared at him.

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm being incredibly sarcastic."

…

When I woke up, my saviour was gone, the only things left: an empty vial, a scar above my heart, another on my arm, one on my side, blood, a scrap of fabric from his coat, and my confusion. I picked up the vial and stuffed the fabric in. I put it in my pocket, not wanting to lose it.

I was going to find that man. The one who saved me. I needed to thank him. Whatever the cost.

…

I woke up out of the dream in a cold sweat. I started fumbling for my glasses. I checked my phone. Tuesday. I had fell asleep on Sunday. Not bad. 2 days. I must have been seriously sleep deprived. I sat up and pulled my hair into a raggy ponytail. My super long hair still had the small braid in my side that had started to become a part of me. I grabbed my glasses and started hunting for a bathroom in this place.

Dawn was just breaking. The sky was painted in an array of pinks, golds and sky blues, whitewashing the sky, almost like watercolour paints. I smiled. I may like being inside, but always with the curtains open. I loved the sky. It reminded me that I had finally escaped hell.

I pushed open a door. A bedroom turned into a store cupboard, mismatched books all over the place. I opened some other doors, trying to find this bathroom. I had to open some other doors before I found it. All turned into store rooms with lore books, weapons, a fuck ton of salt and one small one filled with alcohol bottles, most empty. I made a note to stop there on the way back, and have an investigation on what Bobby had in this house. It was more a Library than a house. A library for hunters.

I finally found the door to the bathroom. It was stripped bare, the floorboards and wall panelling still showing. I splashed my face to wake myself up, and got a quick shower. I got changed back into my clothes and started to go wandering in the house. It didn't look like anyone was home, probably Bobby giving them my life story and digging dirt up on me in a seedy motel. Not that there was anything worth digging up, anyway.

I saw a door on the corridor that I had not looked at yet. I knew it was invading Bobby's privacy, but I was not just going to sit downstairs on the couch, waiting till next Christmas, and doing nothing. I was going exploring. I looked at the copper doorknob, 2 sides in my arguing whether to open the door on just go back to the alcohol room. My curiosity won as I twisted the knob and stepped inside.

The room was actually decorated in white, with large black swirls running through, not the beige colour that seemed to be a prominent throughout the house. I'm guessing Bobby wasn't particularly into decorating, so someone else must have done it.

It was a girl's room, with a battered black plaid blanket covered long hair and dust. There were sketchbooks everywhere, supposedly hidden, but anyone could see that they were poorly hidden. The oddest thing was the amount of dust that it was covered in, like it hadn't been cleaned in years, and the packages on the bed.

CREAK! The bed springs slowly gave up as I picked up the first package, wrapped in grey paper. The paper was brittle and was almost coming apart from the sellotape. I turned it over to see the scratchy writing. I wiped the dust off to see faded black pen on a yellowish cracked tag. The blood drained out of my face as I started reading.

Happy 16th Sera! You are growing up fast, and that makes me feel old as balls.

Anyway, enjoy the day, ya idjit.

-Pa.

I slowly opened the package. It was a long mahogany box, with symbols carved into the edges. I looked closer, and it was like no other symbols I had ever saw before. I clicked the latch and it opened. I gasped.

It was a blade. On it was a little note in the same scratchy handwriting.

I don't want you to start hunting, but I know you need protection. Also, you have been pestering me for a pocket knife, so I got you a real knife.

-Pa.

I picked up the weapon. It was around 30cm, blade alone, and it was a silvery colour. But it wasn't silver, or any substance I had ever saw. The handle was wrapped in leather, riveted on. It had 3 sides to it, and didn't look like anything I had ever saw before. Wait. I had saw something like it, but it just slipped out of my mind. Damn amnesia. More of the symbols ran along the blade. I turned it over and there were different symbols, but these I could read. Staying with a demon did have its perks, especially if he taught you demon language. I stared at it, trying to translate it. I grabbed a pen and started writing on the back of the tag. I finally figured out the translation after about 10 minutes ending up with a translation, a headache and an ink stain from the ballpoint.

I choose my own path.

I looked at the top of the blade, the part where the leather didn't cover the metal. My stomach dropped as I recognised the symbol carved into the top of it.

It was my birthmark. The one on my back, mind you. It was more of a symbol, engraved in to my skin since the day I was born.

No-one knew about that except Alistair, the demon I had been living with, and probably Bobby. And whoever made this, was definitely not a human. Humans didn't have the skill.

Where the hell did Bobby get this? And after 12-ish years it was still here? Wow, that man had a hording problem.

I heard the door creak open as I spun around. Trucker cap, beard, kind but surly attitude, in a battered wheelchair. Bobby. I pushed the paper behind me, with a nothing to see here, go about your business, when his eyes started watering, a small smile appearing on his lips. I looked down to see the box in my hands.

Well shit.

"Sera, we need to talk. In private."

"Where are the fuck up brothers?" he chuckled.

"Dean's getting drunk, Sam is at the motel."

He looked at me oddly. I cocked my head. "You ok, Bobby?"

"Wha- yeah, fine thanks." He replied in his gruff accent, eyes misty.

"Liar. I can read you like an open book." I clicked my fingers and the door slammed shut, but all of this use of these powers was making me drained. I only used them normally for making the TV change channels, but after using them to exorcize multiple demons in a week, I felt like shit.

"Glad to see something's don't change. At least ya can still read people like someone from a shitty cop show."

I was shocked. "I was able to do that before?"

"Yeah. You were loved and hated in school, as ya could tell people what others thought about them. You ended up with more black eyes than I could count. But, one person punched your lights out and afterwards there was a mysterious 'accident' which left them in hospital for 2 weeks." He chuckled. "I always knew you had the guts and skill to become a hunter, but I never wanted any of this" He gestured to the blade I was holding in my hand. "I never wanted ya to become a hunter, ya see."

"Why?" I asked, scared but attentive.

"Why? God girl, did ya brain get fried whilst you were gone? You saw our luck? Dean has sold his soul, died, went to hell and broke the first seal. Sam has just jump started judgement day, and has also been possessed, had his girlfriend killed and died. Me? Karen, my wife was possessed, I had to kill her and I'm almost paralysed from the waist down. And just to top it all off, you disappear in the night, just before your 16th. So tell me Sera, does our luck ever go in our favour? I know I'm gonna die from a bullet or blade, but you? I wanted to spare you from our fate. But-"He almost choked up, but continued "Now you're in the life, and there is no getting out. Except when you bite the dust."

I looked at him with sorrow. My god. This life just seemed like a bad luck charm. I felt so sorry for Bobby. First his wife gets possessed, and he had to kill her, then I disappear, presumed dead and if that wasn't bad enough, he can barely walk. I could sense he was freaking out, and so he should. His dead daughter comes back, now as the person he never wanted her to grow up to be.

Karen. That name sounded so familiar. I tried to wrack though my brain, and actually came up with a memory. That was the only one though.

…

"Argggh! I hate this! Stupid schoolwork, stupid teachers, stupid life!" I saw a younger version of myself scream. I started chucking textbooks across the room, hitting the door. I put my head in my hands, and started crying of frustration. I had some friends, a loving, yet dysfunctional family, but absolutely nothing else. Ellen, Jo, Ash, Uncle Rufus, Pa, Chelle and Mark. But what else? Nothing. Absolutely Jack squat.

Younger me felt a hand on my arm. I looked up and saw Bobby looking at me with concern.

"Sera, what's the matter?"

I gulped back more tears and looked up at him.

"I'm worthless Pa, I'm good for nothing. At least you can do some good in the world, but me? Just stuck here revising. I'm nothing."

I saw Bobby crouch down in front of me.

"Seraphine Karen Singer. You are not worthless. You are special."

"You have to say that, you're my dad."

"I don't have to say anything. I'm the blunt one here in Sioux Falls, so I will tell you the truth. You are not worthless. Not everyone has to wield a gun or blade to be worthy. You get into college, take that degree that you wanted, what was it again?"

"Mythological studies." I mumbled.

"Then you do good in the world. You are smart, clever, kind and can kick some serious ass. So let's keep revising, to tell those teachers you hate that they are wrong about you. Get good grades, and you can stick two fingers up at those teachers. Deal?" I smiled weakly and wrapped my arms around him in a hug as I whispered into his ear.

"Deal, Pa."

…

I gasped as I clutched the blade in one hand, the other on the bedside table. My knuckles were slowly turning snow white.

"What is it Sera?" my vision was wavering, being clouded with tears. I lifted up my glasses and wiped away the tears, the black frames scuffed.

"I remember something. I must have been around 15 at the time, and I was having a breakdown. But that's the only thing I remember." I kept twisting my ring around and around, almost without a thought. "Pa, I'm home."

I ran up to Bobby's wheelchair and almost tackled him in a hug. I felt him put his arms around me, the faint smell of stale beer and machine grease lingering in the air. I buried my head in his shoulder. I may not remember everything, but I remembered enough. This man was Bobby Singer, my father, even though no blood was shared between us. After all, family don't end with blood.

I pulled back as Bobby's eyes zoomed in on my shoulder, shirt no covering the edge of the scars that I was given, courtesy of the hellhound.

"What the hell, Sera?" I shuffled back and forth on the spot.

"You know when you were going on about the Winchesters being in the 'died and came back club'? Well, I can qualify too."

"How the hell did you get back? Did some idjit sell their soul for you?"

"No. Death said someone was pulling the strings, making me come back, so I doubt that."

"The horseman? BALLS!"

"Uh huh."

"Well, I leave you to these. They are yours after all." He gestured towards the presents. "Happy late birthday, Sera." He wheeled out of the room, the ghost of a smile on his face.

I opened the rest of the presents. There were some books, some clothes and a little bit of money.

Finally there was a small box. I opened it slowly. Inside was a locket. It was tarnished silver and very plain. I opened it and a note fell out. I picked it up and read it.

Sera,

Just put a bit of fabric in here to line it. It clips in, and I thought you would want something a little more personal.

-Pa

I fumbled for the scrap of fabric that I kept in my pocket. Drawing it out, I cut it in half and clipped it into the locket, bloodstains still prominent after all these years. I made a mental note to find a picture to place in it, as I threaded it around my neck.

I stared hunting for some sort of a jacket in the wardrobe, as mine was threadbare. I finally found one, a tightly woven cotton one, in dark beige, almost like a biker jacket, with lots of different panels. On one corner, it was covered in machine grease. I must have like working with cars when I was younger. Well, I did live at a salvage yard after all. I put it on, astonished about how it fit perfectly after all of these years. It must have been too big on me to begin with.0

I grabbed a backpack and started placing all of the presents and some other clothes in the black and white bag. Guess I liked the monochrome look when I was younger.

I walked out of the house and unlocked my van. I shoved the bag in one of the compartments and locked up the blade securely. I looked around my van, sigils on the walls. How did I know all of these? Did Bobby teach me them?

I heard a knock on the wall. I spun around, and there was dean, leaning against the wall of the van.

"Caught a case down near Cleveland. Bobby says, you probably are a decent hunter, so time to prove yourself, shorty."

"I'm in, tower block." I jumped in the front seat as I started the car. Well hoped to, anyway. Instead, there was just silence.

"Oh no no no! COME ON? NOT NOW!" I slammed both of my hands on the wheel in frustration. "FUCK!"

"Need a hand?" I saw Dean ask, cocky smirk evident on his face. I said nothing, only getting out and opening the hood of the car. I had a poke around before I realised what the problem is. Dean was looking over my shoulder the whole time."

"Looks like it needs-"

"-a new cam belt, I know. God, this is crap. It takes forever to replace that. Buutt… I can get Bobby on it, see if he's got a spare one. This is a salvage yard after all."

I left a note on top of the van, with my slanted writing wobbly, as I was using Dean's back as a table.

Pa,

Went on hunt with Winchester's. Should be back in about a week.

Cam belt's gone on the van. Could you sort it please?

Call if need anything else.

-S

I then left my phone number at the bottom of the page. At least I now had more than one contact now. I felt as if the demon I codenamed as 'killul8r' was not particularly into any conversation about anything other than himself. I codenamed him that because I would kill him later, and he would probably kill me later. I also didn't know his name, so couldn't exactly put that in my contacts.

I grabbed some clothes and weapons, including the blade I got from Bobby's. Goes away for 1 minute, and it comes back with a vengeance.

I locked the doors and followed Dean to the impala. Sam was checking the trunk of the car, making sure everything was in order.

"Room for a few extra's?" I asked.

Sam turned around, and looked both surprised and happy, which shocked me. They were freaking out a few days ago, now they want to be bezzies? Huh.

"Sera! You are coming then!"

"Yup skyscraper." I passed Sam my bag as I jumped in the backseat.

Dean and Sam then got in the front, Sam shotgun, Dean driving.

As Dean put a cassette tape in (who uses those anymore?) I thought:

Shit. Should have brought my music collection. I hope Dean's in half decent.