Chapter 14: Trust he'll profit much thereby!

The room was dark, small. There were chains on the walls, rattling ominously from the steady vibrations of a haunting rave in a nearby chamber; thumping, pounding, pulsating through to her very core. She felt her way across the tiled walls, searching for a door to escape, but found none. It was as if the room was built around her, caging her, to keep her from escaping.

She heard a click and a solitary lamp illuminated the room from the centre. Allowing her eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden glare, she could make out a lone woman sitting, back turned to her, on a wooden chair. Walking around to face this figure, she saw the familiar blonde hair and picturesque stature she saw in the mirror every day. Though something was different; there were no dark circled under her eyes, there was no scar on the right of her neck from when that vampire got the better of her, no pain visible behind those dark brown eyes. Her face was completely devoid of makeup, though its concealing purposes were rendered unnecessary; this woman had never hunted before. Or at least, this woman had never hunted for Crowley.

'Hello Jo,' she said, smiling. Jo stepped back, registering the impossibility of the situation and concluded she was most likely dreaming. She nodded in response to her doppelganger's greeting, but remained silent.

'I thought it was time we had a little chat,' she said, standing up. Jo said nothing for a moment, trying to wrap her brain around the ludicrous situation.

'What are you?' She finally asked. The woman snickered.

'There are many ways to answer that,' she paused, deliberating, 'I could be you, well, a reflection of what you once were. I could be an extension of your conscious. I could be a death omen, coming to warn you. I could be a demon, or a Djinn invading your mind. Or, I could just be a complete figment of your imagination, a dream long overdue.

'The fact is it doesn't matter what I am. I am here, now, to talk to you.'

'What do you want?'

'It's time you remember who you are, I think you've somehow forgotten.'

'I know exactly who I am.'

'Really? Because I don't believe the girl your mother knew would ever surrender herself to the clutches of a demon.'

'Desperate times…' Jo replied.

'Yes… desperate. Yet, desperation did not dictate to you the possibility that your mother might help, or the Winchesters. Those boys were like family.'

'They still are!'

'No. They're not. You've completely suffocated every part of who you were before you met Crowley. You've become weak, impressionable. Imagine what they would say if they knew the truth…'

Jo sat in silence, allowing the magnitude of what she was saying to wash over her.

'All you wanted was for your mother to see you as an adult capable of taking care of herself, but it doesn't mean you should forget everything she has taught you, like common sense, for example.'

'There's nothing wrong with valuing my independence!' Jo pressed assertively.

'Yes, but you seem to have trapped yourself by it.' She fell silent once more. 'You have no purpose anymore, no future. That demon has taken everything from you, leaving you a shell of what you once were.'

'I had no choice! I would have been dragged to hell.'

'Oh, so what you are engaging now is so pious? The path you are walking is leading to darkness, you must see this.'

'I did what I had to; my soul is mine.'

'You have become shockingly naïve. Do you really think Crowley would have returned your soul just to utilize your hunting skills, and occasionally bed you? Wake up girl. He has plans for you! Demons don't give second chances, Jo. It is not in their nature to see reason.'

'What are you saying?'

'I'm trying to help you remember who you were. Jo Harvelle would never allow herself to become demon chow, and you would do well you remember who you were before Crowley.

'Because at this rate, one way or another, you will end up in Hell.' She warned, turning away and disappearing.

Jo gasped for air, forcing herself up in bed. She was drenched in sweat, and trembling violently. What the hell was that? She asked herself, trying to regain control of her breathing. It was 7am, or thereabout, as she could hear the music thumping through the walls of her neighbor, but it sounded as though it were a million miles away.

She was dazed, confused, yet overwhelmingly angry at herself. That dream was clearly her conscience, which she had ignored for the better part of the past half a year, forcing her to remember its existence. Its logic was flawless of course. Her desire to be seen by her mother as an adult coerced her into pushing away from any possible assistance she could have provided, and now she was stuck, slave to a demon until death.

But, it was too late; there was no point in worrying her mother with it now. Eventually Crowley would get bored with her and move on, she knew that much. It was a matter of how many years she had to stick it out. This was the new normal, and she was getting used to it.

Despite reasoning with herself, she was still trembling five minutes later as she rose up to don some clothing, and get herself ready for the day ahead. It is important she bring her A-game to the table today, as the boys were trained to spot a liar, and she wasn't all that good at it.

She had decided upon a neutral ground in which to meet the Winchesters; her apartment would not do. The bar was the obvious choice given its public, although reserved, nature. And besides, a little alcohol before the hunt would not go astray; hunters did not trust hunters, and she knew the boys would not take kindly to her joining ranks with another. If only they knew…

She had decided to get there early, and hoped Crowley would do the same. Although, of course, given his partiality to making her life as difficult as possible, he was nowhere to be seen. Anxiety had already made three beers sink in the past hour, and she grew worried she would not be able to see straight when her merry band of hunters arrived. Then again, these days she could hold her liquor quite well.

Given it was just after midday on a Tuesday, there were a surprisingly large number of people in the bar. All of them regulars of course, but it was rare for them to all congregate at once. It is a Tuesday after all, and she knew most of these drunks had families, and jobs. Still, it's not like she could judge, considering how much she had just swiftly consumed.

A ring from the bell above the entrance alerted her to the presence of two more customers entering the bar. Recognizing immediately those dangerously attractive men she had come to call family, she vacated her high-top table and near jump-tackled them in greeting.

'Boys, it's been too long!' She said, kissing Sam on the cheek.

'Yes it has,' replied Dean in his usual Dean-like smirk. She stood staring at them for a few seconds, so grateful to finally register some familiarity in her messed up life.

'I heard about the deal you made Dean, I'm sorry,' she said, grabbing his arm.

'How'd you know?' He asked.

'Mum told me, a few weeks ago.' She lied effortlessly. Perhaps this would be easier than she thought.

'Yeah, but at least Sammy's alive,' Dean said lightly, smacking Sam across the shoulder. His brother shot him a dark look, suggesting to Jo that he had not quite forgiven Dean for sacrificing himself, again, for him.

They stood in silence for a bit before she said, 'you boys want a beer?' They both nodded, but before they moved the door opened again. A man, whose large amount of facial hair could not cover up his underlying attractiveness walked toward them, and she knew immediately it was Crowley. He wasn't kidding; this man definitely looked the part.

'Guys, this is-' crap! We didn't think of the name!

'Fergus,' he said, with a thick Irish accent.

Dean tried, and failed, to cover up his amusement. 'Nice to meet you, Fergus'. They all exchanged handshakes.

'Fergus is a fellow hunter living here. He's been helping me with the Hastur problem.' Jo said, glaring pointedly at Dean. Though she didn't blame him for his mirth: Fergus? Surely he could have picked a better cover name. Unsurprisingly, as soon as she mentioned he was a hunter, however, Sam and Dead looked skeptical of her association with him.

'Uh Jo, can we have a chat?' Sam asked. She nodded. 'Excuse us,' he said to their new acquaintance. Dean led her to the bar, out of earshot.

'Are you crazy Jo?' He asked, 'what're you doing associating with other hunters? Especially ones we've never heard of'. She threw them both exasperated looks.

'He's a friend guys! He's gotten me out of a few tight spots, and he's a good man. Besides, it's not like you know every hunter there is.'

'We know a fair few,' Dean pressed, 'how do you know he's legit?'

'I just do, okay. You're going to have to trust that I know what I'm doing. Now, I didn't call you here to judge my newfound company, I called you for your help. Now, can we get down to business?' She finished, giving them broth pointed looks.

'It's just, if you get hurt-'

'Yeah, we're just looking out for you,' said Sam, giving her a softened look.

'I know guys. I love you, but give me a break; I'm not stupid.' She turned and walked back to Crowley.

'Sorry, Fergus. Drinks?' She asked, and signaled the bar to produce four more bottles. 'Alright, I think we need to start working this out.' She led them all to the high-top table she vacated a few minutes ago, and proceeded to fill the brothers in on what she knew about the demon.

'Yeah, I've heard of this one,' said Sam, reaching into his bag and pulling out a journal, flipping through the pages. 'October 2nd, 1995, Cheyenne Wyoming; Robert Anderson found dead in his apartment; racial hate message on the walls; sulfur on the windowsill. April 3rd, 1998, Lincoln Nebraska; Rosie Chau thrown from fourth floor window; hate message written on clothing; sulfur on the doorhandle. And there's five more. There doesn't seem to be a pattern; guess it's why Dad never killed it.'

'That and it's one of the most powerful demons in existence, given its plans to make a play for the demonic upper-ranks,' piped up Crowley. Sam and Dean glared at him apprehensively.

'You wanna tell us how you know that sunshine?' Asked Dean.

'Not really, love.'

'You know I don't think I like you, kid. Who are you? Where did you come from?'

'I think that's a great big pile of none of your business. I'm here, I'm helping, and that should be reason enough to toe the bloody line.'

Dean pursed his lips, shaking his head in anger.

'You know, we don't have to listen to this. The three of us can hunt this thing without you.' Dean said, standing up.

'Dean! We need his help. He's been keeping tabs on this thing for a while, and knows his stuff. Cool off, will you?'

'What are you even doing with this joker Jo? He just happens to be living in Duluth, the most obscure town on the planet? Just happens to be an expert on the thing we are hunting? Yeah that's a real coincidence'. He clenched his fists in an obvious attempt to not punch the new hunter in the face. Crowley, however, looked as though he found the entire situation hilarious.

'Something funny, Chuckles?'

'Yeah, actually. You come in here all high and mighty, but you've got no idea what you're up against. See now, this is my town; I'm the big man on campus here. So you will shut up, and do what I say, y'hear?'

'That supposed to be threatening?' Dean asked.

'I'm seriously getting bored with this exchange of conversation. So how about we negotiate the new terms of this agreement? You sit down and shut up, or I grab this knife' he suggested in a quiet voice, pulling an athame from his belt, 'and go trigger happy on your Willy Wonka. Believe me when I say I'm the quicker draw.'

'Go for your life, handsome,' Dean retorted in a near whisper, his face barely an inch from Crowley's.

'Okay okay, boys, zip up and settle down. Like it or not, we're doing this together. Fergus knows the demon; you boys should know how to kill it. Let's just get it over with so we can all get back to our day jobs, understood?' All three of them reluctantly nodded. 'Okay. So, we'll break until we stumble across anything of use. Boys, back to your motel. Fergus, we need to have a chat.'

The boys made for the exit, with Dean kicking a bar stool in frustration.

'Oh real mature!' Yelled Crowley. Dean spun around and started towards his adversary, but thankfully, Sam had the sense to pull him back and push him out the door. He shot Jo an apologetic look before following his brother into the cool afternoon air.

'That one needs an attitude check'. Said Crowley, downing the last of his beer and grimacing at the taste.

'Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black? You're going to want to watch your own attitude next time we meet with them,' she said pointedly.

'They're insufferable! And ignorant as all hell. Feel like just handing them over to the bloody demon and letting him have his way with them.'

'Yes yes, we all know you want to watch the world burn. Just keep your story straight next time. If they trust you any less they'll start throwing holy water at you as a precaution.' He scoffed at the unlikelihood of her proposal. 'Oh believe me, they've done it before. If they find out who you really are, they will kill you.' She finished off her beer and smacked him on the arm, 'come on. Let's get out of here.'

'Nice meat suit by the way,' she said as they walked to the door, 'but, why the hell did you decide to call yourself Fergus of all names?'

He shrugged. 'Don't know; guess it just came to me.'

A/N

Sorry for the late update guys! I don't have two minutes to rub together these days… But the season finale inspired me – what an end! So back on track. Though, admittedly, this may be the last update for a month again. The whole '6 essays and 2 presentations due before the 17th of June, and I have to get HDs or I fail the semester' problem I have going on right now is keeping me on my toes. But, after then, I have 2 weeks away on business and 4 weeks of NOTHING during the winter break. So I should finish the story in that time, if I can get my shit together.

Then again, there's at least another 10 chapters to be written. And I have a habit of getting bored easily.

But this leads me to my next point; The reviews I've been getting are AMAZING! I love you guys so much! You keep me writing. I would have been bored out of my mind with this story if I haven't had so much love for it. Thank you, again.

Winchesters this chapter. Whaddup? How was the characterization? Need to change for the next few chapters? Let me know! I LOVE CRITICISM! But only if it's constructive.

Keep reviewing, and keep loving. Like I said before, if you want to get in contact with me directly/get a daily steaming-pile-of-crazy dose from me, add me on Twitter (CaptainAsh_).

Love you all forever!

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