Chapter 1:
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
"So, get this!" Sam yelled.
Dean groaned, barely awake, "So help me, Sammy, if you've woken me up for nothing, I swear-"
"No, you jerk, I found a hunt," Sam sighed, laughing breathily.
This got Dean's attention, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning, "Yeah? What is it, then, bitch?"
Sam sat at the small table in the motel room, perched over his laptop, "There's been a homicide."
"Just the one?"
"Just the four," Sam corrected.
Dean stood and walked over to him, leaning on the table and the back of Sam's chair, looking over his brother's shoulder, at the laptop.
"Four bodies were found just outside town, in a forest clearing, three stabbed with one's cause of death unknown," Sam explained.
"Seems like our thing," Dean said, thinking out loud.
"Yeah. We gonna check it out?"
Dean shrugged, "Sure. Any witnesses?" He asked as he walked over to his bed and began to pack the 'essentials' for the hunt.
"Just the one; Willow Danvers, an orphaned girl that went missing year ago, just turned up."
"We'll go and talk to her, too, then."
"If we can find her," Sam pointed out.
"That is true."
Sam was the first to get out of the Impala, narrowly missing hitting his head on the top of the door.
Why can't Dean get a taller car? Sam thought, Oh, yeah, I remember; because this is his child.
Both in their suits they headed towards the taped off crime scene which was surrounded by police officers and other suits. The clearing was covered in green grass, the sunlight hitting the majority of it, but the trees surrounding it stole some of the light away. They were approached by an officer, and they pulled their FBI ID out from their suit jackets and flashed them.
"Agents Smith and Smith, no relation," Dean said gruffly, "What happened here?"
"A quadruple homicide by the looks of it," The officer explained, "Happened sometime last night, at about ten to eleven by the time of deaths."
"How many attackers?" Sam asked.
"Only the one by the looks of things, someone shorter than these guys by the angle of entry of one of the wounds, possibly female. But I have no idea how the forth died, no wounds, no marks, nothing."
"We'll just take a look around, if you don't mind."
"No, go right ahead."
Sam and Dean headed towards the tapped off area, with Dean lifting the tape over their heads. Four bodies lay in various positions, none looking all that comfortable. Three of them had stab wounds, two to the chest, one to the back.
Dean crouched down beside one and frowned at the yellow substance beside it. Poking it with his finger to get some to stick he brought some up to his nose to smell it. Immediately afterwards, he regretted it, scrunching his nose up.
"What is it?" Sam asked from where he crouched beside the body that had no course of death.
"Sulphur," Dean said, frowning at the substance in question before trying to flick it off of his finger.
"Demons," Sam concluded.
Dean nodded, "Seems like all of them are."
"That might explain this one, then," Sam said, motioning to the body before him, "The others would've been killed by an Angel Blade, right? And only Angels have Angel Blades, so maybe and Angel smited this one."
Dean thought about this, "That is a definite possibility, Sammy, with only one hitch; what Angel? Most of them are dead and gone, or hunting us. And I've had some Demons come at me with an Angel Blade before."
"I believe I could assist you in this situation."
Dean looked in the direction of the deep voice and jumped slightly when he found Castiel standing right beside him, "Damn it, Cas, you can't do that in public!"
Sam was smiling, amused by how his brother always seems to be frightened by Castiel's sudden appearances.
Castiel frowned, head tilting to the side, but said nothing on the subject, "It was not an Angel that killed these Demons," Was what he said instead.
"If it wasn't an Angel, then what was it?" Dean asked, still slightly annoyed.
"It was an Nephalem," Castiel said as if it was obvious.
"A what?"
"An Nephalem, or a Half Angel if you will. They're half human, half Angel, born with one parent as an Angelic being. Most usually have Angelic fathers, and their mothers die at birth, ending up orphans if they survive at all. Very rare to find one now, given how much my brethren dislikes humanity nowadays. But I do believe this is what killed these Demons."
"A Half Angel?" Dean clarified.
"Almost like the Antichrist," Sam deduced.
"Yes, almost like the Antichrist, only the Angelic version," Castiel said.
"Okay," Dean dragged a hand down his face before standing and looking at Cas with a hint of annoyance, "And you'll be able to tell who this Nephalem is?"
"Of course, it's true face will be partially Angelic."
"Good. That'll make this easier."
Sam was deep in thought, and he reached a logical conclusion, "That girl, Willow or something, she's an orphan and she apparently witnessed this."
"I think we need to give Ms Willow a visit," Dean said.
"I can lead you to her," Castiel agreed to the plan.
"Lead away, then."
Dean pulled up to the police station, cursing to himself at how stupid he was not to think of this. Of course the girl was here! She was a witness! And given she had no home... well, he should've thought of it himself.
They jumped out of the Impala and walked into the station, all three of them flashing their FBI ID at the officers inside.
"Agent Smith and Smith, no relation, and Agent Anderson," Dean introduced again.
"What can I help you boys with?" The officer asked.
"We would like to see the girl who witnessed the murders from last night," Sam said.
"Yeah, okay, right this way."
The officer lead them down the hall and into an empty office. Well, not exactly empty, it had a desk, a filing cabinet and a computer, but it wasn't being used. The girl inside it stood as soon as she heard the door open, looking at her visitors anxiously.
"Here you go; Willow Danvers. Will, these are Agents of the FBI, they've come to ask you some questions," The officer said.
The girl, Willow, nodded and the officer left.
Dean turned and looked at the girl, for the first time really looked at her. He was almost surprised to find that she had bright blue streaks in her black hair, but then he remembered the teenagers around now and how they loved to be different. Pfft, what a load of bullcrap. She had eyeliner on, framing her wide, dark brown eyes. What she wore almost amused him; she looked like a hunter; with a red and black flannel unbuttoned under her black leather jacket to show off a black band shirt with the Beatles logo on it.
At least she had taste.
She had her black skinny jeans belted high up on her waist, they seemed to have a pattern down the outside edges, with her shirt tucked in and she had slightly wedged combat boots on her small feet.
She didn't look girly, she looked like she had that balance of being girly and being boyish, and she did it well.
Almost reminded Dean of a female version of himself, minus the hair. She even wore a watch, some rings and a strange necklace that appeared to be from a lesser known culture or religion.
"Hello Willow," Sam said, "I am Agent-"
"Sam," Castiel said suddenly.
Sam looked over at Castiel to find the Angel staring at the girl, wide eyed.
"What?" Dean asked gruffly.
"That's her," Castiel said.
"Her? As in her her?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"What is he going on about?" Willow asked, "Who are you?"
"Hi, my name is Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam, we're hunters and this is our friend Castiel; he's a Angel," Dean said almost mockingly.
"What?" Willow asked, confused, "You guys are nuts! Angels don't exist!"
"Oh, cut the crap!" Dean yelled, "We know what you are, there's no point hiding it!"
Willow's expression changed from one of anxiety to one of amusement, "I was wondering how long it would take for hunters to find me," She smirked, "Some of you aren't as dumb as you look." She smirked proudly as she sat on the desk beside her, hands braced on the edges beside her.
Dean frowned, "Gee, thanks."
"But without Angel-boy, there, you guys would be lost," Willow said, pointing at Castiel.
Dean couldn't form a logical argument at that.
Willow turned her smirk to Castiel, "So, what was it that gave me away? Was it the Blade? Or the smiting?"
Castiel didn't seem to be fazed, "I could sense your energy, your Grace."
"The smiting didn't help, though," Dean pointed out.
Willow chuckled, "Smiting Demons is just so fun, I couldn't help it."
"Where is the Blade?" Castiel asked, possibly concerned for his own life, but you can never tell with him.
"Oh, it's safe, no need to worry about that, Angel-boy."
"I do not understand-"
Willow rolled her eyes, "Never mind. Jeez, you really are a buzz-kill, Crowley was right."
Sam and Dean went rigid.
"Crowley?" Dean asked.
Willow raised an eyebrow, "Yeah. You know him?"
"Unfortunately," Dean muttered.
"We might have run into the King of Hell a few times," Sam said.
"He told me all about you guys, but I gotta admit; I'm a little underwhelmed," Willow said.
"How old are you? Sixteen?"
"Seventeen."
"Whatever," Dean muttered.
"How is it that you've met the King of Hell?" Sam asked.
"Crowley raised me," Willow said, almost at a dead-pan.
The only person this didn't surprise was Castiel, who only nodded.
"That would explain the tinge in your Grace," He said.
"Taught me a few good things, that douche, but I eventually got bored and wanted to see the world, so I ran away," Willow explained. "Heaven was already out for me just for being part Angel, but then I had Hell out to bring me back too. But you have no idea how much I did not want to go back there."
"I can imagine," Dean muttered.
Sam nodded.
Willow glared at Dean, "But anyway, I hid, but it seemed like I was a beacon to anything and everything so it was really hard. I dyed my hair as a cover of sorts so I didn't have to move as often-"
"You dyed your hair?"
"Yeah, not just the streaks, I'm naturally a red head."
"That explains the freckles," Dean muttered, smirking.
"Watch it, you, I can-and will-smite you," Willow said, threateningly, pointing.
Dean shook his hands mockingly, "So scared."
"Anyway, so after I dyed my hair I didn't have to move around as much, but I still had to move, which was a pain. I had a few low-level Angels find me-they are unfortunately dead, sorry Angel-boy-and a few low-level Demons-also dead, good riddance- but it was mainly plain sailing until Crowley himself found me. He found me in a park at night, surprised at my black hair-he used to call me 'little tiger', which I hated; it was bloody annoying- and reminded me that I was his daughter, which I guess is kinda true, but he didn't mean I was actually his daughter, if that were true, I'd murder the bitch.
"It wasn't exactly a great childhood; he kidnapped me at five and drilled Demonic practises into me. At first, I didn't care, I didn't think for myself. When I was eight I began to show Angelic abilities, and he taught me how to use them, and that was fine, but when I turned ten I decided that I didn't want to be all evil and Demonic, I wanted to do some good; make a difference. He told me I was being stupid, and the worse I got when I disobeyed him and tried to be good was a lashing, or maybe a beating, but nothing too bad.
"It wasn't until I was being taught the fundamentals of torture that things went to Hell-figuratively and literally. I was thirteen. Thirteen. And I was being made to torture souls. Some may have deserved it, yes, but then there were the ones who had made deals selflessly, or died in ways that meant they went straight to Hell, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. I refused, naturally. Crowley gave me several chances to comply; but I still refused. He got one of his lackeys to drag me into another room-I kicked and screamed, of course, thinking he was going to torture me-" Willow stopped, her hands shaking slightly, and took a few deep breaths, staring at the floor. She smiled, but it looking extremely forced, "Let's just say he stole my virtue.
"After that I realized just how cruel Crowley really was, and I chose my battles, mostly obeying for the sake of my sanity and my life. You can understand why I wanted to escape; all he wanted me for was a weapon against the Angels. Douche bag.
"So after I somehow managed to escape, I went on the run and blahdy blah. Eventually I just got sick of it and summoned a few Demons and told them to tell Crowley to meet me in that clearing from yesterday. I was just so done with being bait, with being hunted, so I thought; if Crowley wants me dead, then let him try. He didn't actually try, though, so it kinda defeated the point. And now, here we are; stuck here.
"So that's my depressing life."
"So, it was you who killed those Demons?" Castiel asked.
Willow raised an eye-brow at him, "Jeez, Angel-boy, I thought that was obvious! How many more Nephalems do you have stashed up in there?"
Cas frowned and tilted his head, confused.
Dean was still trying to comprehend what was happening, "You were raised by Crowley?"
"Yeah," Willow said, no humour in her voice.
"That must've sucked."
"That doesn't scratch the surface." She looked at the floor for a moment, "It's so hard, being on the run all the time, never really belonging anywhere. I've always wanted a family, not necessarily a normal family, but still a family."
Dean's eyes widened, "Are you trying to guilt -trip me?"
Willow smirked slightly, but no one could see it.
Dean looked over at Sam, "She's trying to guilt-trip us!" He looked back at the teenager before him, "It ain't working, hun, nah-ah," He waved his arms in front of him, "I am not having a teenager tag along with us, not happening. Especially one raised by the King of Hell."
Willow looked up, and with her wonderful acting ability, looked on the verge of tears, "Why not? I ran away for a reason! I didn't want to be that thing he wanted me to be! It's no different to how you raised Sam!"
"How do you even know tha-"
Sam cut him off, "Dean."
Dean turned to look at his younger brother, "What?"
"She has a point. We can't leave her here, and she's being hunted by Heaven and Hell-"
"Exactly!"
"Just like we are! She's not that much different to us!"
"Except she's seventeen!"
"Doesn't that mean we should be trying harder to help her? Because she's so young and has a chance at a normal life?"
"She's an Angel, Sam, one raised by the King of Hell! She's not normal to begin with!"
Sam sighed, "Dean, we can't leave her."
"Watch me!" Dean yelled before storming out, slamming the door as he went.
Willow cringed at the noise, and this time the mirth in her eyes wasn't fake.
"I'm sorry about him," Sam said, "He can be a real jerk."
Willow didn't look up, nor did she speak.
"You're welcome to come with us, Dean will come around, he's quite good with kids; it's just-he's trying to get around the whole 'Angel' thing."
Willow looked up, anxiety shining in her eyes, but still said nothing.
"He is a good man," Castiel agreed, "He will do what is right."
Willow chuckled, a harsh thing with no humour, "How do I know you guys don't want to kill me too?"
"Willo-" Sam started.
"Everyone else does. That's all anyone has tried to do; kill me. Why would you be any different? Crowley was right."
Sam tried not to look hurt, How could anyone think that? "Willow, liste-"
"No. I am sick of people using me, I'm done."
Willow disappeared with the sound of wings.
"Damn it," Sam muttered, turning around, wanting to punch something.
"She will be at the clearing tonight," Castiel said, before looking up at Sam, "She's contemplating summoning Crowley again; to bargain or to let him kill her I have no idea."
"We need to get there before she does."
Castiel nodded.