Sorry for the delay. But it's here. So, as always, enjoy!
"Alright," Nick cut in. "I've seen enough. Look, we'll give you a ride home, we're with the Portland Police Department—"
"Portland?" The woman gasped as she sat up slowly, "But…I'm from Los Angeles…" her expression growing more tired now than fearful.
"So, I guess we''ll be arranging to get you home. Anyways, we'll do whatever we can to help." Hank nodded.
"Oh god, thank you," she said, faltering as she struggled to her feet, taking Sam's elbow in the process. "You have no idea how horrible that was—"
"Actually, I do," Sam nodded. "Believe it or not, I've been possessed before. Anyways, you're OK, which is what counts. They'll get you home. Although, like Dean mentioned, we know a trick that will prevent this from happening again." Sam reached awkwardly up to his chest as he spoke with both hands, pulling down the collar of his shirt. In the glare of the headlights, the outline of the pentagram tattoo was just visible.
"What's that?" She asked, her brow knitting itself into a confused line.
"That's an anti-possession symbol." Dean explained. "We'll give you a copy if you want. Point is, as long as it's on you, a demon can't take over. Which is what that 'evil' you were feeling was. That's a demon."
"Oh, god," She muttered. "And…you're sure this is for real? Because…I barely believe it myself—" She wavered slightly, shaking her head.
"Yeah, I know," Nick offered her an arm as she appeared to grow unsteady on her feet. "But unfortunately it's all very real. We'll get you a way home, alright? Just come with us…"
With that, Nick began to move towards the car, the woman in tow. Hank motioned for the brothers to follow, saying, "Well, let's go."
They piled in, Sam and Dean in the back with the woman, Nick and Hank in the front, with Hank at the wheel.
As they rode, the woman began to chat.
"Sorry, I don't think I got your names. I'm Ashley. Who are you again?" She asked.
"Dean."
"And I'm Sam," the brothers supplied.
"I don't even want to think of what all would have happened if you hadn't been here. I barely remember the past few days. Just…snatches, god, awful things—" Ashley shuddered, voice growing thin with emotion.
"You don't have to explain it to us if you don't want to," Sam assured her. "We've dealt with this sort of thing our whole lives. I'm just glad you made it out of that alright."
"Yeah, you're pretty damn lucky, far as that goes," Dean muttered.
"Lucky?" Nick scoffed from the front.
"Yeah, believe it or not, Barney Fife, demons can do some nasty shit to people," Dean cracked.
"If you say so." Nick replied, shaking his head. "It just seems pretty brutal to start with."
"Yeah, well, that's demons for ya," Dean said.
"Thanks again," she said. "Although…I have to say, I was wondering, why are you in handcuffs?"
"Long story," Sam laughed.
"Yeah, although if you want to hear it," Dean offered, tone sarcastic, "It's because cops are complete idiots when it comes to dealing with demons and monsters and crap. We had to show them."
This elicited an awkward laugh from Ashley. "Well, I'm very glad you did."
"Thanks, we're right up here," Hank snarked.
"And we're not idiots. We gave you a chance to explain, didn't we?" Nick added.
"Yeah, sure," Dean muttered. "Although no thanks to you, she'd still be running around possessed by one of those black-eyed sons of bitches."
"No, no, that's alright," she murmured, her voice growing tired. "I just want to go home now…"
"That's completely understandable," Hank replied.
"In fact," Nick said, "We can take you to the airport if you want—"
"No, really, you don't have to do all that. Just a cab would be great-"
"Nonsense," Nick cut in. "At least let us give you enough money for a flight."
"Oh, thank you," she gushed, leaning tiredly on Sam's shoulder as they drove. "That would be amazing…"
"No problem, I'll call now," Nick replied.
Ashley grew quiet now, slumping in the seat beside Sam.
He didn't even realize I really until her head lolled to the side on his shoulder, when it became apparent she was asleep.
"Guess that took a lot out of her," he mused.
"Yeah, guess so," Dean agreed, shrugging. "I know I can't wait to get out of this freaking car…"
….
After a brief stop at an ATM, they finally parked in front of Monroe's house, Nick declaring loudly, "Well, we're here!"
This seemed to wake Ashley, who groaned, stretching as she fumbled to open the door.
"Looks like he cab's here," Hank observed as they got out.
"Yep," Nick replied. "And here's $500 for your ticket. Please, feel free to call us if you need anything." He pressed the cash into her hand.
"Wh—what about the thing," she muttered, "he thing that keeps the demons out—"
"Oh, yeah," Hank murmured. "You'll have to ask them—"
"The anti-possession symbol," Sam supplied from where he still sat in he back of the car. "If you have any paper, I can draw one real quick—"
Nick scuffled in the glovebox, supplying a notepad and pen.
Taking it, Sam deftly sketched one. Ripping it out, he handed it to Ashley.
"Thanks," she murmured, giving Sam a hug, which he awkwardly stood by for, unable to return it because of the handcuffs.
"Welcome," he nodded.
"Yeah, now go get back to your life," Dean said. "You'll be fine."
She nodded, mumbling her thanks again as she hugged Nick and Hank each before disappearing into the cab which waited curbside.
As it pulled away, Nick turned to the brothers. "Let's go inside and see how Monroe's doing. Rosalee texted me. They're back from the ER."
"Ugh, really man?!" Dean snarked, rolling his eyes as Hank interrupted him.
"Yeah, believe it or not, you still were breaking and entering, and committed assault with a deadly weapon. So yeah, we're gonna take our time on this." Hank said, his tone no-nonsense, his hand resting not-so-subtlely on his gun. "And I mean business, so get out, and same as before, no stunts, no funny stuff."
"Fine!" Dean snapped as they made their way to the porch, where Nick rang the doorbell.
Rosalee opened the door, ushering them inside.
"So, what exactly happened?" She asked as she motioned for them to sit down in the livingroom.
"Well, we saw a demon," Hank replied.
"A real live demon?"
"Yeah," Nick replied.
Sam and Dean laughed at once at her incredulous expression as they took seats on the couch.
"So, uh, how's Monroe?" Nick asked, tone shifting to an uneasy seriousness.
"Thankfully he's going to be OK. The stab wound missed any important vessels or organs. He needed some stitches, and he's on antibiotics and painkillers, but he didn't need surgery, after all." Rosalee reported. "In fact, I should go make sure he's situated. He's in bed…" She trailed off, making her way up the stairs.
Nick watched after her for a moment before moving to stand in front of the Winchesters, giving Hank a look where he stood beside him.
"While we're here, we've got something to discuss." Nick declared.
"Yeah? So, let's hear it," Sam said.
"We know who you are," Hank nodded.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, shrugging in a way that suggested nonchalance.
Nick held up his phone, an old BOLO notice showing on the screen.
"Oh, shit," Dean grunted, biting his lip.
"Yeah. I ran it when the demon mentioned your last name. I knew your names were familiar, but couldn't put my finger on it." Nick explained.
"Look, you've got this all wrong," Sam began.
"Actually, I don't think we do," Hank cut in. "You are clearly the guys in the photo, and standing warrants are out for all kinds of things."
"Great, we all know where this is going," Dean muttered.
"Really? Because I think we're going downtown," Nick quipped.
"Can't we get a break for once?! How you give us the chance to explain?"
"As much as you want," Nick rejoined. "But you're coming with us."
"But you know we're not crazy, you saw the demon," Sam pleaded.
"One demon doesn't explain mass murder," Hank answered.
"No, you morons! Just listen for a split second. We are hunters! We deal with all kinds of crazy shit. The shooter was a shapeshifter who stole my face, the explosions were Lilith, that demon bitch—" Dean burst out.
"What about the dozens of hold-ups and shootings across the midwest?" Hank's voice was coldly calculated as he shot down Dean's protests.
"They were Leviathan!" Dean sputtered, rolling his eyes.
"What? So that's some other sort of creature that can look exactly like you, I guess?" Nick replied smugly.
"Yes! They can change the way they look, they did it to drive us into hiding, while we were hunting them—they would have killed off most of the population if we didn't stop them." Sam explained,
"Can you prove any of this?" Hank pressed.
"Look, we are NOT showing you Leviathan. For one, it isn't possible, they're all back in Purgatory or dead," Dean snapped, "And if they did get out again, it would be friggin World War III, OK? And we are not doing that again." Dean spat the words.
"What do you mean, 'again?' OK, y'know what? Just save it. You're coming to the station with us. We'll discuss this there, with he Captain." Nick said.
"No, we can't. We have other things to deal with. I mean, it would be nice if you could just—" Dean tried again, gritting his teeth as he bit back the snarks he wanted to hurl at the cops.
"Dean, you think maybe we could use some outside intervention," Sam mumbled.
"What kind of intervention are you talking about? If you really are Grimm, you don't kill non-Wessen people, now do you?" Nick asked.
"Hey, Castiel, if you've got your ears on, we need some help down here," Dean muttered.
"Who the hell are you talking to—" Hank began, but stopped, as a brilliant light flashed and the sound of wings buffeted the air.
Hank and Nick drew their guns, as a man in a trench coat appeared between them.
Before either could react further, the man pressed his hands to their heads, and they dropped to the floor.
"Cas," Dean said, smiling at the familiar face as he approached the angel.
"Hello, Dean. What do you need?"
"Oh my god, I heard the noise, and—" Rosalee came running down the stairs, shifting into full Wogue as she saw the strange man standing in the middle of her living room with the hunters, on either side, her friends lying on the floor.
"You—" Cas exclaimed as she leapt towards him, raising his hand in time to grab her forehead, where a glow appeared—
"Wait!" Dean shouted.