JBethH: I did want to write them all going on more hunts, but it would have made the story so much longer. There is a couple more though, don't fear. I might throw a couple hunts in for an epilogue, too. :)
Amelia jerked to consciousness the next morning after a nightmare, and after laying still for a few minutes, listening to heart pound, she took stock of the hangover. A little before eight. Dry mouth, head and eyes ached a little. Really not too bad for a hangover. She ran a hand over her face, and stood without too much difficulty. Quiet voices came from the next room. Jo still lay on her bed, flopped on her stomach with her face plastered into the pillow, snoring lightly. After peeing what felt like five gallons, Amelia threw on a clean set of clothes, drank a few glasses of water, and wandered into the Winchester's room. Her limbs felt a little heavy, but with a little activity that would pass. Ellen and Sam sat at the table, poring over the research. Both beds were rumpled, and she heard the shower running.
"Good morning," Ellen gave her an amused smile when Amelia shuffled in yawning. "How are you feeling?"
Amelia shrugged. "Not too bad, really. How's it going?"
"Glad to see someone had a little sense not to get plastered last night," Sam muttered.
She smirked. "I was looking over everything last night. I think we should check out the two historic register places. One's a church, the other one's an old mansion. Could be some old artifact or something. I know it's a long shot, but if you haven't found anything else..." Amelia shrugged.
"That's what we were thinkin'," Ellen nodded. "Want to split up, guys and girls?"
Sam shrugged. "Sounds good. You want to take the mansion? They'll probably have a bunch of displays, would be better to have more people."
"What are we even looking for?" Ellen sighed.
Sam rubbed his eyes. "I have no idea. An artifact, a place of power, a person? The demons could be after anything."
"Well, pack plenty of holy water and salt. Maybe we can get lucky."
"When has a hunter ever been lucky," Sam brooded.
Dean came out of the bathroom, wet hair in spikes, wearing jeans and a long sleeved tee. He squinted at Amelia. "How are you vertical?"
She grinned at him. "How are you this morning, Dean?"
His eyes were a little bloodshot, more than hers, and he seemed to avoid the bright light shining from the window. "How are you this morning, Amelia?" He mocked her bright tone.
"Aw, no better come back than that? You must be feeling it."
"Seriously, though, how are you not puking in the bathroom?"
"I didn't even drink as much as you did," Amelia shrugged.
"Yea, but it's also me," Dean insisted. "You must have a hell of a tolerance."
She shrugged again. "Yea, well, we'll have to have a pool rematch sometime anyways. We can settle it once and for all."
"I'll wake Jo up," Ellen said, and then sighed.
"Good luck Ellen," Dean made it sound like she was going on a dangerous hunt. Maybe she was.
Ellen walked to the other room, and patted her daughter on the shoulder. "Jo? Wake up Jo, time to get up."
They heard a muffled groan. Then, "oh, God, my head" in a slurred voice.
Amelia and Dean smirked at each other. Sam just shook his head. "It's a bad idea to get drunk when we're on a case, Dean. Especially demons. They could be watching us for all we know."
"We're fine, Sammy," Dean told him. "Don't get your panties in a wad. Now how about some breakfast?"
"God yes," Amelia agreed. "I don't think Jo will be going anywhere for a while, though."
"Ellen?" Dean called out.
They heard some stumbling and more groans from the next room.
"Go get some breakfast, you guys," Ellen called back. "Bring us back something."
"Sounds good," Dean grabbed his keys. "Drink some water, Jo," he shouted as they walked out.
Breakfast went quicker that morning. Dean ate almost as much as the day before, but he ate faster. Amelia had quite the appetite as well. They returned to the motel bearing coffee and muffins. Jo sat on the bed, nursing a glass of water. She had a clean change of clothes on, and wet hair from a shower. Red streaks ran through her eyes, but she looked awake and at least partially alert.
Dean tossed her a muffin, and she nibbled on it.
"Up for hunting today Jo?" Sam asked.
"I think so," she told him. "I'm feeling a lot better."
"Thought you had more sense, Dean Winchester," Ellen growled at him.
"I am sorry Ellen, Jo," he shrugged. "Thought Jo could handle it. Must have just been a bad night."
Jo didn't reply, she just ate her muffin and drank her coffee.
"Well, if you're good here, Sammy and I will check out the church. If we don't find anything we'll meet you at the mansion when we're done."
Amelia nodded, and the brothers loaded up their things and left. Ellen went into the bathroom, and Amelia looked at Jo.
"You sure you're good?" she had to ask.
Jo shrugged. "I'll be fine. Really. You guys don't have to make such a big deal out of it."
Amelia shrugged, and went to her duffel, loading up on demon hunting supplies. She already had an iron knife, salt, and holy water of course, but she grabbed more of each just to be safe. With her anti-possession tattoo and charm necklace, she should be just fine. Her own head still swam a little, despite her badgering of Jo. Amelia took another generous drink of water. When Ellen emerged, they all stowed more holy water on their persons, and loaded up the car.
The mansion was huge, and ancient. Displays covered the walls. Jo sighed deeply, and turned on the EMF reader hidden in her pocket.
"Split up?" Jo suggested.
"No way I'm letting you out of my sight right now, hon," Ellen informed her. "Amelia can split off if she wants."
Amelia took it to mean that Ellen didn't really care if she lived or died. Which was probably true compared to how much Ellen loved Jo. But of course Jo understood it as a lack of trust.
As they descended into chilly silence, Amelia walked off by herself, wandering down the long wood hallways looking at paintings and relics of the past. She soon lost all interest, but she kept inspecting them, looking for something that would suggest that demons would be interested in an object. She found nothing, and hours passed. Near noon, Amelia stared at a collection of old clothes inside a glass case. She could hardly make her eyes focus. Something caught her eye, a dark reflection in the glass. Moving way too fast. She spun, whipping out her holy water, but it was already too late. The middle aged man grabbed her hair, knocking the vial out of Amelia's hand with supernatural strength. Amelia twisted, yanked out her knife and buried it in the thing's chest.
It's eyes flicked dark black for a second, and it hissed in pain. But the demon reached down and pulled the knife out, hand smoking when it touched the pure iron, and dropped it to the ground with a clatter.
"You shouldn't have done that," the demon hissed at her, "now I'm mad." It smiled, baring every sharp white tooth. It twisted her hair up, pulling some out by the roots.
Amelia fought back, punching, kicking, tossing a pack of salt at it. Nothing worked, and all she received were bruised knuckles and a bloody scalp. The demon pushed her against the glass display, hand at her throat. Amelia's arms were pinned against the glass by a supernatural force.
"Exorcizamus te," Amelia gasped, "omnis immundus-"
The demon flinched, then slapped her across her mouth, clamping a hand over her mouth and nose, suffocating her. "None of that. You're wanted, but you don't need a tongue for what we have planned."
Well that sounded lovely. The demon removed his hand, and Amelia gasped for breath, but stayed silent.
"Good little human," the demon traced a tender line down her face.
Amelia shuddered, and glared at the demon.
"What's this?" the demon seemed to be enjoying itself. It pulled out her charm necklace. "Can't have that." The demon tugged at the necklace and yanked it off her neck. "Anything else on you, little hunter?" The demon systematically went through her pockets, removing knives, holy water, salt, and rosaries. "My, my. You pack quite a bit on you." The demon ran a knife across Amelia's throat, with a thoughtful look on his face. "It's really a shame I can't carve you up. It takes skill, but hunters scream so loud once you get them going."
The demon frowned, but sighed and straightened his shoulders. "We do what we have to, though." Grabbing Amelia by her hair again, the demon dragged her down the hall, Ameila's head firmly wedged under the thing's arm in a standing half nelson. Down a set of stairs, her knees whacking every step on the way, to a private section of the mansion. Great, now Ellen and Jo probably wouldn't find her if the demons hadn't already sprang them.
One woman stood alone in the dark room, arms crossed, feet tapping. Demon. "You got one of the hunters?" she asked, coming towards them.
"Yes, the new hunter. Singer's protege."
The woman frowned. "I would have preferred the other girl. But I do not need to get close. I'm sure she has a possession tattoo. Find it."
The new demon drew a knife, and in her hand it glowed red hot. Amelia's captor fumbled at her belt.
"It's on my back," Amelia snapped, and touched her bleeding nose tenderly.
The demon ripped off her jacket, and yanked her t-shirt up to reveal the small black tattoo inked on her back over her heart. Amelia shivered at the sudden cold and the rough hands on her bare skin.
"Hold her," said the demon with the knife.
As the demon grabbed her, Amelia bit down on her shirt, conveniently close to her mouth, and the demon laid a line of pure fire across her back. She yelped into the shirt, lurching away from the pain into the demon who held her. The demon tottered, and Amelia pressed her opportunity, setting her feet and launching herself into the demon. It fell backward and Amelia bolted, pulling down her shirt to free her arms. Three steps from the stairway, a force crashed into her, and she slammed face first into the wall, the force still hammering against her. She could barely breathe as it pressed her against the wall.
"You fool!" growled the demon who had burned off Amelia's tattoo. "You useless, stupid fool."
A hand grabbed Amelia's shoulder and effortlessly spun her around so the demon could look into her face.
"Watch over the meat suit," the demon said. "It's dead, but I'm rather fond of it."
Then the demon lurched back, and cast it's head back, opening it's mouth in a scream. A black, roiling cloud erupted from the thing's mouth, flying into the air towards Amelia. She took a single, terrified breath, then the smoke hit her. She couldn't stop it, she couldn't hold her mouth shut. The cloud forced its way into her mouth, between her clenched teeth, until her jaw hit its breaking point. It was choking her, flooding into her, into every single part of her body. She convulsed, choking, as the demon chased her out of her own body with fire. Finally, the last thread of smoke disappeared into her mouth. Into her body. She collapsed to her knees. There were voices in her mind, buzzing voices. She could still think, but she was now merely an observer in her own body.
So Amelia observed the white smoke curl up from every inch of exposed skin. She observed the intense, every-cell-on-fire excruciating pain that the demon suffered. Amelia felt the demon extract itself, and watched her body regurgitate the cloud of black smoke. The demon flew back to the limp, dead body on the floor, and rushed back through its mouth so it could inhabit the body it so recently abandoned.
"Holy water," Amelia lay on the ground admiring the texture and coolness of the wood floor.
The demon untangled the limbs of it's meat suit, and stood, unsteadily.
"I've been drinking it since yesterday, bitch. Probably have a gallon in my system."
"Clever," she allowed. "You would make a good demon. I think I want your soul."
Amelia didn't reply. She didn't quite have the energy.
"There has to be something you want. Your brother, yes? I can bring him back for you. Hell, I'd even give you a good deal. Twenty years sound decent? I'm very patient."
That hit her like a punch in the gut. She had trouble breathing for a second. She had studied crossroads deals, only after Bobby had drilled the danger into her for days on end, but the deal right there in front of her... Amelia bit down on her tongue. Hard.
"No? Stubborn one. Fine. I wasn't in you for long, but I did find out something very, very interesting."
With a toe, she rolled Amelia over on to her back. "See, there was a lot of turmoil in hell over the last century, came to a head over the last few years. Not sure if you heard about it, the Winchesters play in pretty close. No time for the cliff notes version, but the point I'm trying to get across is different factions, different goals, demons running around willy nilly, a lot of things slipped through the cracks. And you," she crouched down and cupped Amelia's bruised face with a cold, gentle hand, "are one of the ones that slipped away."
The demon took out it's knife again, and Amelia prepared herself to die. The demon took her hand from Amelia's face, raised the knife, and slit open her own palm to the bone. Amelia stared at her blankly.
The demon smiled, as it's eyes flashed black, and then it's bleeding hand was pressed over Amelia's mouth, and tangy, metallic blood flowed into her mouth. After a stunned second of paralysis, Amelia threw herself away, trying to escape, but the demon pressed down harder, blocking her nose so she had to take gasps through her mouth, and the blood trickled in, coating her teeth and her tongue in a disgusting salty slime. She raked the floor with her hands, tossed her legs around, trying to get any traction to escape the horror, but the demon did not let her escape. It forced her to swallow the vile liquid that it bled into her mouth, for a solid minute. When the demon finally removed her bloody hand, Amelia lay on the floor, motionless except for her shivering, eyes wide but staring at nothing. A sticky ring of blood stained the skin around her mouth in a sick parody of a popsicle.
The demon smiled, and patted Amelia's shoulder. "You're well on your way to becoming a demon now. Though, of course, you always were. You didn't know, but a demon visited you when you were a baby. You've always had demon blood in you, I could feel it when I possessed you. You'll have to be careful. The Winchesters will think you're a monster if they find out. They're pretty trigger happy, I'd hate to lose my investment now that I've found you. "
The demon stood, and rubbed the blood off it's hand. Amelia curled up on the floor in a tight ball. Her head had started to buzz. Demon's were souls tortured in hell. But could that be the only way to become a demon? She could research, ask around...
"You could go to Bobby, of course. Decent fellow. Did you know his wife was possessed by a demon? Bobby killed her. It's how he got started in the business. Amateur demon, of course. Every demon knows not to leave survivors."
Amelia wanted to vomit up the thick, syrupy blood, and get it out of her system in any way possible. It felt far too much like the brief possession had, but her body wouldn't reject the blood. She shook uncontrollably, and the thrumming in her mind intensified.
"You're not puking your guys out," the demon comforted her, "not burning up from the inside. See? This was a part of your life from when you were pooping in diapers. This is who you are."
The words started to swim through the air, rising and falling and pulsing. She could hear every whisper, could see the minutest grain of the floor. She felt the blood drying, oh, so slowly around her mouth.
"Knock her out," the demon said. "Then let's smoke out of here. We got what we came for."
Mercifully for Amelia, a swift blow to the head quieted the screaming in her mind for a time.
Oh dear! Too bad Amelia doesn't know about Sam's issue with demon blood. That would certainly make things a lot easier for her, hmm? Darn lying demons had to come in when things were going along so well.
Thanks again for reading/reviewing, and let me know what you think of the new developments! :)