When the Cradle Falls

Chapter Eleven: Prayer of the Cursed Saint

It was four in the morning when Bobby's eyes shot open. Hunter instinct kicked in as he felt a shot of adrenaline sent through his veins.

Something that had woken him.

He reached for the shotgun he kept near his bed and peeked out from behind the curtains. The sound of a growling engine had woken him up. From the corner of the window, he could see a two-toned pick up truck parked in front of the house. The engine died and there was the sound of a door slamming. A haggard figure slowly came around from the driver's side of the car and heavy boots stomped up Bobby's porch steps.

Bobby aimed the shotgun as he crept down the stairs. He threw open the front door, revealing a ragged John Winchester, fist up, poised to bang loudly on the door, no doubt.

John dropped the hand and nodded at the other man. "Bobby."

"Johnny," Bobby bit sarcastically.

With a tired sigh, John glared at Bobby and extended a hand towards the house. "Can I come in?"

Pulling out a flask from his back pocket, Bobby shoved it at John. "Drink that and I may just let you in."

John crossed his arms in defiance. "What the hell is that?"

"Whiskey. A few drops of holy water."

John just looked at Bobby in disbelief. "Really, Bobby? It's me."

"Sure, well then come on in. Wanna hop in bed with me too? Look, you were gone for over a month, running from demons, not even a whiff of you. Your sons have been worried up to their little ears thinking something happened to you. You can understand why I'd be hesitant to let you into my house. Now you can come on in after I do a simple test. So, we can do this the easy way and you take a swig from that flask, or we can do it the fun way and I'll empty twelve rounds of rock salt into your ass. Either way, same effect." To demonstrate his point, Bobby cocked the shotgun.

With a chuckle devoid of any humor, John snatched the flask away from Bobby quite petulantly and took a long drink. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he handed the flask back to Bobby without a demonic wince. "You son of a bitch-that's the worst whiskey I've ever had."

"Well boohoo, should I give it to you in a bottle next time?" Bobby sneered crankily. He was fed up John decided to show up in the middle of the night. The man couldn't have waited until the sun was at least up?

Irritated, John shouldered past Bobby into the foyer. He dropped the heavy duffle bag on the floor beside him and looked like he were about to yell up the stairs for the boys.

"Don't you dare!" Bobby hissed, grabbing John roughly by the shoulder. "I don't need anyone yelling in my house before the damn sun is even up. Capiche?"

Surprised by Bobby's hostile reaction, John squared his shoulders and threw the other man's hand off. He turned to face Bobby. "Something you wanna say to me?"

"Let the boys sleep." It sure looked like their father could use some too.

It was very evident John hadn't gotten much rest in the past month, as his eyes were bloodshot, hair was a faint mix of a sulfuric odor and booze coming from his cracked leather jacket. "They've had a month to sleep. Probably haven't even been training, I bet."

Bobby internally rolled his eyes. John was never satisfied, never happy. "Well then what's a few more hours gonna make a difference either way, John?"

"I just wanna get my damn kids and get on the damn road."

Bobby held up his hands. "Just wait a minute. First thing's first, what happened to the demon or demons? You smoke those bastards?"

John nodded. "They're taken care of. What? You'd think I'd come here knowing I still had demons on my ass?"

"Must've been some tricky sons of bitches. Took you over a month to lose 'em."

"Not as young as I used to be."

"Uh-huh."

Not knowing why, Bobby's mind wandered to the picture Dean kept in his wallet, the one of the little peanut, Cara. For some reason, he imagined what John would look like holding the little girl, but Bobby couldn't imagine such opposites existing side by side. He'd only ever seen a single image of the girl, but if she was anything like Dean said, she and her mother were sure gonna be around in Dean's life for a long time. He briefly wondered if Dean was ever going to tell John. Eventually, the man was bound to find out. Bobby was vaguely surprised John hadn't discovered Dean had never actually went on that solo hunt and burn. Maybe he was getting old, losing his touch. Or maybe he saw what he wanted to see.

"Look, if you're not gonna let me wake up my kids, can I at least grab a few hours on your couch?" John asked, when it seemed Bobby was dozing off.

Bobby waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, that's fine. But before you conk out, I wanna talk to you."

John scoffed in disbelief.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna braid your hair or swap gossip with you. But since you're standing in my house, I'm gonna make you wait a little longer before you enjoy your stay at Hotel Singer."

Slowly losing patience, John moved into the other room and plopped down onto the couch he was going to be sleeping on, hopefully soon. He kicked his feet up and motioned for Bobby. "What do you want to talk about?" John demanded rudely, brusquely

Bobby sat on the chair opposite from John. "Dean," he said shortly, leaving no room for argument.

"Okay, what about Dean? If he-"

"He didn't do anything, alright?" That was a lie, but Bobby knew Dean needed someone in his corner, someone that could hold their own. Even if the boy could hold his own, Bobby reckoned Dean wouldn't dare do anything to upset the balance of the Winchester triad.

"Then what's the problem?" John asked, not even trying to look remotely interested.

"He's almost eighteen and-"

Already not liking what he was hearing, John cut Bobby off before he could continue. "Look, Bobby, I appreciate you looking after my boys, but I'm their father. You don't need to lecture me on what's best for them. You think I don't know that Dean is almost eighteen? Trust me, I do."

Bobby stared John in the eye. "Well, then it seems we're on the same page. But, I'm still gonna say it. You need to stop treating him like a kid."

That enraged John. Standing up, the coffee table John was resting his feet on scraped across the floor, emitting a loud squeal. Couple that with John's indignant inquiry-"Excuse me?"-Bobby looked up at the ceiling, somehow expecting to hear feet hit the ground as either Sam or Dean awoke and went to investigate what was wrong.

"Keep your voice down, you idjit," Bobby hissed.

John growled, but restrained himself from doing anything further than that. "Did he tell you about that solo 'hunt' I let him go on? And did he tell you what actually happened? Because I know I shouldn't have let him done that! He couldn't even hunt down a simple ghost in a reasonable amount of time."

What Bobby really wanted to do was yell at John for being so blind. Be he couldn't do that. "These boys have trained nearly every day of their lives, and Dean is more than capable of handling himself. He's done a tremendous job of taking care of Sammy and keeping him safe. I think Dean has earned the right to at least be treated like an equal."

John's hands clenched tightly into fists and he felt himself shaking. "That's not your place, Bobby. I do what's best for those boys. I always have."

"Have you? Have you really?" Bobby challenged.

"I have!" With a surge of uncontrolled emotion, he moved like a blur and lunged towards Bobby. John slammed the other man against the bookshelf as a slur of words fell out of his mouth. "You think I don't think about what she would think of all of this?! You think this is the first choice for my kids? But this is the only way I can keep them safe. I know what's out there. They know. You know what's out there. I can't know what's out there and not train them. I can't leave them undefended. I already lost my wife, Bobby. I won't lose my sons. I know you can understand that." With a flatness in the air, John let go of Bobby and turned around, taking a few steps in the other direction, breath ragged, trying to cover up the raw nerve that had just been scorched.

Still against the bookshelf, Bobby's mind wandered to his dead wife, Karen. He pictured his hand running a knife through her chest, as she gasped in surprise, and gave Bobby a look of almost distrust, as if he had betrayed her. The image was forever burned into his brain and was something he reckoned would never leave him.

The silence between the two men made Bobby think. He and John really weren't all that different. Both threw themselves into hunting after something supernatural had killed the loves of their lives. The only difference between the two was that John still had two sons. Bobby had no one, and reckoned if he did, he would've done well to keep them as far away from this life as he could. There would always be a small amount of anger towards John for raising the boys in this life, but the rest of his anger towards the oldest Winchester was slowly displaced, scattering across the floor like particles of dust. After a month of imagining shoving the butt of a rifle in John's face, Bobby couldn't even find the desire to want to do it.

"John," Bobby said he stepped away from the bookshelf. "Maybe it doesn't do much good arguing about that past. You raised your boys the way you did. But, I'm telling you, Dean is no longer a child. Sure, he'll always be a kid to me, a kid to you, but to the world, he can't be."

John looked over his shoulder with an unreadable expression.

"That doesn't mean you can't still protect him, worry about him, but you need to trust him. Let him go."

"Why are you telling me this?" John inquired, voice more controlled this time. "Why now?"

Bobby smirked. "Because it's true, you old bastard. I've seen it with my own eyes."

"Well, maybe you're blind," John said halfheartedly, struggling with some emotion he couldn't put a name to. Instead, he pushed it down and tried to compose himself. But that was hard when he felt so frazzled and fried, which was something that rarely ever happened to him.

"I'd bet you every car out in my lot that you're wrong."

"Sure, Bobby." John still didn't sound too convinced but Bobby knew that was all he would get out of the other man for the night.

"Don't expect breakfast in bed or anything like that when you wake up," Bobby snarkily commented as he exited the room and stomped back up the stairs.

Downstairs, John flopped down on the couch, face buried into the scratchy fabric.

He didn't even remember falling asleep he just was.

A steady stream of sunlight permeated the sheer curtains that hung in the kitchen window. The dark floor was bathed in golden light, the dark house seeming a whole lot warmer and inviting.

"Well don't you look nice." Jan leaned against the kitchen counter and watched as Alice smoothed down the floral dress she wore. Cara was sitting on the counter beside Jan, her great aunt's arm looped around her waist. Cara squinted when a cloud shifted from in front of the sun and a ray of light shined her her eye. She turned her head and instinctively looked at her mother.

Alice's head dipped low in embarrassment. "I just want to get a few more uses out of it before I blow up like a balloon." She ran a hand over her stomach. In the flared dress, the slight protrusion wasn't visible. If she wore a t-shirt, Alice could notice the bump, but Jan swore she looked the same.

"Well you look very nice. And so do you." Jan maneuvered Cara so the baby was held up in the air, looking down at her aunt. Cara also wore a dress. It was a light blue with lacy white edges. She wore matching ruffle socks and little white patent leather mary janes. A blue headband sat atop her head.

Looking down at her aunt, Cara made a slight sound, almost like a whimper. Jan lowered the baby to her and cradled her. "I'm telling you this kid is gonna be a heart breaker one day. Cause she sure is breaking mine with this little frown she has."

Alice laughed and her hands worked on the clasp of a necklace she was working to put on. "I don't know about that." She couldn't visualize Cara as a teenager, never could.

Jan let out a harsh laugh. "God bless any poor bastard that tries to pull anything on her."

"Aunt Jan," Alice muttered quietly.

Frowning, Jan shrugged, not understanding why Alice was suddenly so stoic. "What?"

"Can you not swear in front of her?" Alice almost whispered, as if Cara would suddenly start blurting out a whole string of curses.

Quickly recovering, Jan laughed again. "Oh honey, if you think that's a swear...well I forget you were raised by a woman that thought 'darn' was the worst four letter word there was. You should've seen Sherry as a teenager. She sure had a stick up her...anyways."

Unamused, Alice ruffled her hair. "Still, she doesn't need to hear stuff like that," she said, gently taking Cara from Jan.

"Whatever, you're the mother. But Alice, if you do make a big deal out of her saying a swear, she's only gonna say it more. She doesn't know what it means but if you react strongly, she'll know it's a good way to get your attention," Jan advised, winking at Cara.

"Noted." Alice checked her wristwatch, moving Cara to one arm. "Okay, Cara mia, ready for our girl's weekend? First a glamorous little photo shoot, then some nice dinner, and then staying for the night in a ritzy hotel. Wow, missy, for a baby and a teen mom, we sure are living the life." Alice turned to her aunt. "Really, you didn't have to do this-"

"No, no backing out now," Jan insisted, pushing Alice towards the back door. "Think of it as an early birthday present from me. And even I know you wouldn't want to spend it away from Cara here. So go, go enjoy yourself before you 'blow up like a balloon' and are outnumbered by two Cara's." The two were moving across the backyard, past the back gate into the alley, where Alice's car was parked in front of the garage. She had never actually parked her car in there, because the room honestly freaked her out.

"You're just trying to get rid of me, I think," Alice smirked sneakily.

Jan held up her hands and shrugged. "Even an old lady needs some time to herself."

"I thought you weren't old," Alice pondered, as she strapped Cara into her car seat.

Feigning innocence Jan asked where Alice ever got an idea like that.

Alice gave one last grin as she settled into the driver's seat. She slammed the door and rolled down the window. "Really, I can't thank you enough for-"

Jan waved her off. "Honestly, I never want you to thank me for anything. Now, am-scray."

With a salute, the green car disappeared from the alley as Jan watched with a fond smile. Eventually, the smile faded, and for the next ten minutes, Jan walked around the perimeter of her yard. To a neighbor, she would've looked quite odd, but her neighbors were just as odd and ornery as her, and thankfully minded their own business.

When a determination Alice didn't forget anything and needed to come back, Jan pulled a key from her pocket and nonchalantly walked over to the garage. She unlocked the door and slipped inside.

The interior of the garage was dank and mildewy, not much different from the house itself. There was a four pane window that had paper covering, so a quad of distorted, sickly yellow squares pathetically illuminated the cement ground, which had been painted over in a brown color. One of the squares highlighted a portion of the brown cement floor with a fascinating iridescent line. The rest of the line disappeared into the darkness, creating an unseen, intricate pattern.

In the center of the intricate pattern was a sturdy wooden chair. The occupant of that chair was bound by the arms and legs, head hung low, neck twitching at the sound of the door closing softly, a lock clicking.

"Oh we're a little shy, are we?" Jan asked, stepping towards the center of the room. She reached out and flicked on a harsh fluorescent light.

"Just let me go," the voice whispered. The occupant of the chair was a muscular young woman, probably a few years older than Alice. She had wavy dark brown hair with bangs that covered the tops of her eyes and mocha skin. Her tight jeans were ripped, button up shirt stained with blood.

Jan laughed and slowly began to circle the girl in the chair. "Now come on, you're just making me sad now. I expected so much more."

The young woman pulled at the ropes. "Please, just let me go," she cried feebly.

Strolling over to door, Jan knocked a piece of wall beside it. "Hear that? Nothing. The whole place is sound proofed. You can drop the victim act." A workbench was set up below the paper covered window. The surface was covered in random assortments of various containers and tools. Jan picked up a clear container with water, seemingly innocuous. She went and stood over the woman, and upturned the contents of the container onto the woman's head.

The scalp started to blister and the skin on the forehead turned an angry red. The woman shook her head vigorously and let out a bone chilling scream that reverberated around in Jan's head. She tore at the restraints in absolute mania and the breath that came out of her was like steam from an engine. With complete torment, her eyes found Jan's.

And Jan saw her eyes were black.

"There you are," Jan growled.

Jan had paced around the demon so many times the monster herself was dizzy. After dropping the innocent act, the demon lounged back in the chair, as if the holy water in her air and salt on her eyelashes didn't faze her. There were still deep red fissures on her face from where the holy water stung her. "Don't I get my one phone call?"

With a laugh, Jan stopped behind the demon. "That's really cute, honey. But I can tell you something." She leaned close so her mouth was pressed up against the demons ear. "There ain't no one in Heaven, Hell, or Earth looking for your ass."

"Ooh, that gave me chills," the demon hissed tauntingly. In response, Jan flicked some salt towards her face.

"Does that hurt? Hopefully the pain will jog your memory because I wanna know what you were doing stalking after my niece and her daughter."

The demon grinned. "I think you know the answer to that. Nothing personal against goody goody Alice or sweet little Cara; they were just ammunition really, canon fodder."

Jan crossed her arms. "Because you had some beef with some hunter and thought going after his son's girl would somehow get to him. But you know, you were wrong in two ways.

"One: I used to be a hunter. I'm sure you weren't expecting that, but the little mind reader that you are, I thought you would have anticipated that. And two: Dean already warned me about you and your posse."

Poised with the bottle of holy water, Jan watched as the demon flinched. "So, I don't need to know your unclean past with John Winchester-by the way, nice hunter to try and go after. But there's one thing I'll admit I don't know. How did you get away?"

"I didn't. Daddy Winchester smoked me out of some metal mouthed, pimple faced tweenager."

Pausing for a moment in confusion, the bottle held loosely in one hand, Jan thought for a moment, a mask of cool collection still naturally held in place.

"You're wondering why I'm not in Hell. I clawed my way out. I have a certain knack for that. Even if I'm just some low level demon, I'm known pretty well."

"Yeah?" Jan let herself be amused, trying to keep herself level. She knew damn well it was possible for a demon to crawl out of Hell. This one was evidently a little full of itself.

"They call me Sonja."

Jan remained unimpressed. "Well, I've never heard of you. And I don't know anyone who has. Can't be that famous."

"I will be, oh I will be," Sonja assured with a crazed tone. She pitched towards Jan, the whole chair inching towards the edge of the freshly painted devil's trap. She didn't seem to notice it, but stopped moving just in time. "Look, I had nothing against Allie and her baby, but you keeping me up in here, tied and in a devil's trap in your garage, that's something I won't stand for."

"Well then take a seat." Sonja was absolutely delusional, insane. The demons Jan remembered exorcising were usually cunning and ruthless and fatally intelligent. "I'm so sorry you feel like I've disrespected you, but when I find a monster lurking outside my living room window while my baby grand niece is playing with her toys, you can understand why I'd be a little upset."

"Please. I tried to get into your house, but it seems like you know a few tricks. I know not to underestimate you."

"Look at you bitch, you do learn fast."

"So let's chat, Janet."

Jan frowned. "I don't need to know your sob story like some frumpy little farm girl trying to make it in Hollywood. There's nothing to talk about."

Sonja shrugged, like she didn't care. "That's fine. One day, you will know my story. You'll have it seared in your mind."

"Descriptive. Until then, I wanna give you something in return. Give me a minute, I'm a little rusty." Jan returned to the workbench and shoved some materials aside. A few objects clattered to the ground as Jan pulled up a wrinkled and stained piece of paper. She blew on it to dust it off and walked back over in front of Sonja, as if she wanted to show her something.

"What'cha got there?" Sonja asked, head craning forward a bit.

Jan laughed shortly. "Well I can tell you it's not to take down your biography. Omnipotens, qui fugabunt maligni spiritus invoco."

Suddenly straightening, Sonja's eyes widened and turned black. "No no no no no. You're not doing this to me. I know what this is and it's not going to happen," she coughed. Jan noted the effectiveness of the ritual. That would explain why it was so short.

"Oh I am. I'm not doing this for you, but the poor waitress I assume you jumped. I swear, what's with you demons always going for the hardworking blue collar class? Shameful. Anyways, quia pius es, hunc peccatorem ab igne inferni."

The coughs turned into wet laughter, and Jan nearly dropped the paper in surprise when she noticed clumps of blood like drool trailing down the side of Sonja's face, her nostrils, and the corner of her eyes. Sonja's eyes flashed from black to the normal brown color several times in a matter of seconds. Her body was contorting against the ropes in a way that even the older woman found disturbing.

"You've never seen this before, have you?" Sonja asked. She had resorted to closing her eyes, but her voice still sounded as if her lungs were coated in tar. "Everything's sharper from the pain. But that little Latin poem you got there, that's St. Maniglia's, isn't it?"

Jan looked down at the paper. It was an exorcism from the Roman Catholic Church that had been used in the fourteenth century to expel several demons from a woman that was later canonized for her bravery. The woman, christened St. Maria Maniglia, had the exorcism named after her, known as Maniglia's Prayer. She hadn't used it in decades, and the few times she had, it had gotten the job done when time was of the essence. The last time she had used it, a father of two children was bleeding out badly and didn't have much time. Maniglia's Prayer.

Jan continued anyways. "Mali spiritus in virtute Christi derelinquam hunc-"

"Pro salute animae, bla bla bla, yeah yeah yeah." When Sonja uttered some of the words, a deep guttural cough wracked her entire body. She sweated profusely but still managed to hold on.

"You just love having a hand in your own destruction, don't you?"Jan asked, nevertheless intrigued by the demon.

"When that prayer is branded on my twisted little soul, I do."

"What's that?"Jan asked. She crossed her arms and squatted down so she was level with Sonja's face.

"I said," Sonja coughed up more blood and blinked her eyes rapidly. They had settled back to the normal color. "My family and I were the original models."

Jan couldn't help her reaction. Her eyebrows shot up below her frizzed bangs. She felt an itch on the back of her neck. "You were one of the demons in Maria Maniglia?"

Sonja nodded, teeth glistening an angry crimson. She spat glob of blood and saliva at Jan. "Of course the whore was nothing short of begging for it. And then they went and made her a saint after that. I'm telling you, the Catholic Church has been going downhill for centuries."

"How old are you?"Jan asked, the paper hanging loosely in one hand.

Sonja shrugged. "I've lost track. I've been around since the BC. Add that to how time in Hell works differently. I have to say, I don't really know. But I'm old."

"All that time and still no one knows who you are. Oh darling, I don't think anyone is ever gonna know your name. Where were we? You can sing along if you know the words. pro salute animae ad regiones caeli optimae. Demon abierunt. Fiat misericórdia-"

"You're making a mistake! You think a small collection of words is gonna stop me?"

"Too bad you can't see yourself in the mirror, Sonja. You don't look that good. I wouldn't be surprised if you only had one lung left. Tua semper Pater-"

"I'm the least of your worries! I'm a lapdog compared to the rest of my family. You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us! But just know, Janet Sutton, if you finish this exorcism, I will take it personally. And you don't want me to know you personally."

"I've heard enough from you.'

"I'm like a pitbull! Once I sink my teeth into some sap that thinks they can mess with me, I never let go!"

"Well which are you? A lapdog or a pitbull? You can't be both, Sonja. Nisi et hos abolere."

"I will come after you. I'll kill you! I'll kill Alice and her baby! I don't care!"

Jan stopped and grabbed Sonja's chin. "If I even find out you crawled your way out and step even one foot in this city, what I'm gonna do to you, you'll be wishing you were back in Hell."

"Then finish it," Sonja sneered.

"Bestiis animam. Amen."

The veins on Sonja's neck were bulging and throbbing. They flashed black as the smoke that was hidden deep within the vessel bubbled up like lava. Head back, Sonja's scream was mixed with a rumbling growl, that sounded like the earth shaking. Face red from blood and overexertion, the smoke erupted past the bloody lips and red coated teeth. Once completely gone, the woman's head fell forward, eyes closed.

The black smoke created an ominous cloud over the woman for a moment, and Janet felt her body covered in ice, down to the marrow. She could not move, just watch as the suspended smoke turned slightly, as if Sonja herself was looking at Jan in absolute hate.

This only lasted for a second, a fraction of time Jan would argue was longer. After that brief period, the smoke abruptly fell into the ground, the red painted devils' trap shimmering black.

Working quickly after that, Jan darted forward and quickly checked the girl's pulse. For all the blood the girl had lost, Jan was pleased to hear the beat was at least steady, even though it was weak. She untied the ropes and noticed the red welts on the girl's wrists and ankles. Soon after that, the girl was wrapped in a dusty afghan blanket that had been folded away on some shelf in the corner of the garage.

Opening the garage door, Jan pulled her car most of the ways into the garage. Putting the car in park and getting out, Jan grunted as she lifted the young woman and gingerly set her down in the backseat of the car. "Hang in there, honey, I'll get you to the hospital."

The nearest hospital was only a couple blocks away, but with downtown traffic as bad as it was, it took damn near ten minutes to get there. At each red light or slow moving pedestrian, Jan would cuss quietly, and glance back at the young woman sprawled across the back. Her skin was a worrying bluish shade, but Jan convinced herself the encouraging words for the victim to hang in there would have to be enough to tide her over. It simply had to be.

Once at the front entrance of the ER, Jan parked her car in the ambulance lane and swiftly reached into the backseat, grunting as she heaved the young woman wrapped in the blanket up. There was no one there to tell her she couldn't park there, and if an ambulance showed up, she was sure they could get around her car if they really needed to.

The doors of the ER opened slowly and Jan stumbled through them. The occupants of the ER for a moment thought Jan was the one that needed assistance. Her sweaty forehead and wild hair seemed indicative of her enduring some great pain.

But soon after that, combined with Jan's yells for help, a nurse that had just walked through the doors into the lobby took a look at Jan and rushed back through the doors. A moment later, she was back with a gurney and several other nurses. The woman was placed onto the gurney and wheeled back.

A flustered nurse in white scrubs stopped Jan, clipboard in hand. "What happened?"

Jan let a flustered hand drop from her head. "Hell if I know. I just found the poor girl on the side of the road like that."

"Where exactly?"

"It was on Birch. Near Phillips-Lacroix."

The nurse frowned. "That's a dangerous area. What were you doing driving through there?" She thought she was slick, hoping to trip Jan up.

Oh honey, Jan thought. The young nurse didn't stand a chance. "I volunteer at the youth center a couple streets over. Was driving there when I saw her. No one else was around. Thought she was dead when I first got out of my car to check."

"And why didn't you call the ambulance?"

"When I found out she was alive, I didn't think. I have a niece a little younger than that girl and all I saw was her face. Calling 911 didn't even occur to me." Jan let her voice waver, eyes pricking with tears. The nurse's skeptical gaze fell, replaced with a sympathetic one.

Glancing down at the clipboard, the nurse gave a satisfied, perfunctory nod. "Well, I think that's everything I need. M'am thank you for bringing her in." She turned away.

Jan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Wait. I know I'm not her family or anything like that, but I feel obligated to make sure the kid is okay."

The nurse smiled. "That's very kind, but I can assure you, we'll take good care of her."

"I have no doubts about that. But to prove I'm serious, here." Jan reached into her wallet and pulled out her insurance card. The nurse looked shocked when Jan shook it. "Go ahead, take it. I can't imagine that woman had any insurance on her."

Carefully, the nurse took the insurance card. "If you want to wait out here, I'll let you know how she's doing. And maybe you can go back and see her if my supervisor says it's okay."

Jan nodded graciously at the young nurse. "Thank you very much. I'll just take a seat out here."

Jan sat in a chair against the wall. She briefly thought about calling Alice, just to make sure everything was okay, and Jan wondered if sending Alice and Cara away for a weekend retreat was the best thing to do. Surely, it was the only way Jan could exorcise the demon without raising Alice's suspicions. Besides that, if Jan thought there were any more demons out there, she wouldn't have let Alice and Cara even leave the house.

It was about a half an hour later a different, older nurse came out asking for Janet. She handed the insurance card back and beckoned Jan to follow her through the doors.

"She's conscious," the nurse informed, looking over her shoulder at Jan.

Jan frowned slightly. "That's great. Has she said anything?"

She nurse shrugged slightly, and Janet didn't see her face when she spoke again. "We normally don't disclose the information of patients to those that aren't family. It's a violation, you see."

"Then why bring me back to see her?"

The nurse ignored her question. "She had no ID, no money, nothing. We believe she was robbed and that she has a pretty severe concussion.

"We also believe she was held somewhere against her will. She has rope burns on her wrists and ankles. We've also tried to get her to give a statement to the police, but she is refusing. She's refusing to talk about what happened."

"And do you think I'll be somehow able to convince her?"

"No. That would be unprofessional. The only reason I'm telling you this is because she wanted to talk to you. She said you're the only one who would understand." The nurse looked at her strangely, sideways.

Jan pursed her lips, realizing that potentially made her sound like she was the one who kidnapped and tortured the girl. While technically true, the context was invariably different. "Are you saying you think I did this to her?"

"No. That's not what I'm saying at all. She swore it wasn't you when we asked her about it. We believe her. Besides, why would someone do that to a poor girl and then drive her to the hospital and pay for her treatment? It's absurd."

Jan nodded. "I don't have a bad bone in my body. I could never do that to someone."

"Of course. Well, whenever you're ready, she's in room 137, right behind you."

The two women nodded at each other and Jan waited until the nurse had disappeared around the corner before pushing open the ajar door. She left it slightly and looked around the standard hospital room. Nothing special, maybe a little run down.

The young woman in the bed was free of blood and had a couple butterfly bandages near her hairline where Jan had hit Sonja with a holy water soaked bat. Knocked the thing right out, actually.

Upon seeing Jan, she sat up a little straighter and pulled the sheets up higher around the blue hospital gown.

Jan moved a little closer and eyed the clipboard at the end up the bed. It said, N. Doe.

She pointed to it. "What's the N stand for?"

"Nina."

"Pretty. Why didn't you give them your name?"

Nina shrugged. "I don't want them to find me again."

"They won't find you again, Nina. These nurses, they're here to help you."

"How do you know?" she whispered.

"Because I'll show you ways to keep them away. They'll never hurt you again."

Shaking her head, Nina looked down. "I lost my mind."

Jan pulled up a chair close to the bed. Nina winced at the sound of it scraping across the tile.

"You didn't lose your mind. What happened to you-"

"It was my fault." Nina looked down.

"No honey, it wasn't," Jan insisted. That bastard had really screwed up her head.

"It was!" Nina shouted, glaring at Jan. "My mother and abuela warned me not to mess with devils. I didn't listen because I didn't think they were real. I didn't think God was real either."

Jan tried to place a hand on her shoulder but Nina swatted it away. "My family, they're hardcore Catholics. And more than that, they're superstitious. I stopped going to church, and it got me. That thing that said its name was Sonja. But how can something as evil as that have a name?"

Jan remained silent and let the young woman process.

"As soon as that black smoke caught me when I was walking home from work, I knew what it was and I knew if I had just listened it wouldn't have happened to me. And when it was in me, I could feel its evil. I knew it was from Hell. I could also feel its age. It was older than anything I could comprehend."

Jan patted the edge of the bed mindlessly. "Listen Nina, some people are more susceptible to possession. I don't think it means you're weaker."

"It thought it was a joke. Because I decided they weren't real and it wanted to prove to me that they were. It told me that."

"Nina, I know this is a lot, but I need you to tell me what the demon wanted."

"It was angry, irrationally angry, the kind of angry where you can't think straight and you only see red. The thing had an age old vendetta against some man. Winchester I think. He went in and tortured its family. Sonja was there. It was carnage. Even those monsters can feel pain."

"Why did this man torture them?"

Nina closed her eyes, trying to remember. She opened them. "He wanted information about his dead wife. He thought they knew, but they didn't. He sent all of them down.

"But I think the ones left are so mad because the ones that were able to crawl out were never able to find the other ones, their family. I didn't know monsters had families."

Jan silently admitted she didn't either, not demons at least.

"It came back with a couple others that managed to make it out. It took them years, but they tracked down the man. They found him. But one of them followed his son all the way from Kansas where the man was, to Nebraska, to here, and back to Kansas. Then she came back here after she followed back the one son and tried to kill him and the other son."

Dean must have gone to Nebraska to look for Alice, which eventually led him to Chicago.

Nina flicked her eyes up. "Your niece's daughter is the son's daughter, right?"

Jan nodded dumbly.

"She wanted to make him pay because he was the man's son. And what better way to make someone suffer than making their child suffer? She was coming for the baby."

Jan was unable to swallow.

"The monster would've left you and your niece alone."

Jan closed her eyes. "No. I would've died before I let it near Cara. But it only wanted the one baby?"

Nina looked puzzled. "One baby?"

"My niece is pregnant again. She told Dean when he came here."

Nina shook her head. "No, it didn't know that. It thought there was only one baby."

The news made Jan's stomach curl the same time she felt relief. "Nina, are there others still out there?"

Thinking for a moment, Nina eventually shook her head. "No, I think she was the last one. I think the man, Winchester, sent the rest of them back."

"Thank you, Nina."

"But what do I do now?" Nina demanded.

Jan sighed, eyes closed. "If you think it will help, you go to church. You go back and you live your life. You put this behind you."

"I can't!" she muttered.

"You have to," Jan insisted. "If you don't, this thing will consume you."

"I saw what it saw. I saw Hell. I felt the fire and the flames and the pain. It never stops. It never ends. And I felt myself crawl out of there and just lay on the grass, breathing in the fresh air. It was breathing. Something evil was breathing."

"Nina?"

"How am I supposed to go back to living when I've seen what true evil looks like?"

"Nina."

"It hates Hell. Hates it. And it hates anyone who will send it back there." Her glassy eyes refocused and swiveled to meet Jan's. "She's coming for you."

"She won't get anywhere near my family."

"No. She doesn't care about your niece or the babies. She wants you."

With a laugh, Jan leaned back. "Well the bitch can try."

"I don't understand why you're so laid back about this. That thing was the incarnation of evil itself."

"She's not the first demonic bitch I've run across."

Nina's brow furrowed. "It said you were a hunter. Do you hunt demons?"

"I did. A long long time ago," Jan said.

Nina's shaking hands ran along the edge of the sheet. "How do I keep them away?"

Jan patted Nina's hand. She allowed it. "I'll teach you."

The hospital had released Nina a few hours later. Jan took her out to eat and then at Nina's insistence, to get an anti-possession tattoo, after Jan admitted she had one. Next, they went to the store where Nina stocked up on salt.

At Nina's decrepit apartment, Jan showed her how to draw and hide sigils that would keep out demons and taught her how to make holy water using a rosary. She gave the girl a silver knife and last, a copy of Maniglia's Prayer.

Nina stared at the copy of the prayer in her hand, trying to memorize the Latin. Jan noticed a gold crucifix that had not been around her neck before.

Standing up from the arm chair, Jan gently took the paper from Nina's grip and set it on the nearby end table. "Listen to me, Nina."

Nina's eyes snapped up to Jan's. There was a fearful glint in them.

Jan grabbed both of her hands. "You are strong, okay? And you will not let this control your life."

She looked back down.

"If you let this control your life, you can bet you'll spend the rest of your days afraid. Young lady, make Sonja your bitch. It only has power over you if you give it power. So don't give it any."

Nina blinked away tears. "I don't know if I can."

"You only think that because the wound is fresh. Give it time. You'll see." Jan chucked Nina under the chin. "Kid, you'll be fine."

She nodded. "If you're telling me that, I gotta think it's true."

"Damn right it is."

Nina stared at Jan for a minute before barreling forward, wrapping her arms around the older woman. "Thank you," she whispered.

Jan patted her on the back. "Look, you've got my number if you ever need me. Don't be a stranger."

"I won't," Nina swore as she held open the door for Jan.

The garage was a mess.

Jan splintered the bloodied chair with an axe and burned the pieces in a bonfire while she worked on the rest of the garage. She repainted the entire floor, covering the angry red sigil. She straightened the shelves and reorganized them, put a fresh piece of paper over the window. After that, she put out the bonfire and poured the ashes along the perimeter of the fence.

When she was done, Jan went back up into the house and collapsed in a chair at the kitchen table, closest to the back door. She was exhausted.

She didn't feel all that great even though today was a success case. The possessed victim had survived and conquered. All the other demons were gone for now. Alice and Cara were safely away, enjoying their weekend.

But there was something bothering her.

It wasn't the fact Nina said Sonja now had a grudge against Jan. Sonja was delusional. If Jan took the bitch once, she would gladly go for a round two. It was a wonder why the demon thought she stood a chance.

What was bothering her was the fact Sonja had followed Dean all the way from Nebraska to Chicago. The thing hadn't read his mind like he thought. The damn thing had been his shadow. And he led her right to Alice and the babies.

Jan didn't know the deal with Dean's father and his dead mother, but it was obviously bad enough John Winchester went sticking his head in a hornet's nest. She had heard about the hunter back in the day. Someone who's bad side you wouldn't want to be on. Of course, Alice had to choose his son. Surely it was a coincidence, but Jan couldn't help and wonder sometimes.

But whether or not he knew, it was Dean's fault Sonja had tried to come after Cara. As irrational as it was, she blamed him for it. Alice and Cara had been safe with Jan for a year and a half and the first time he rolls around, a demon comes with him.

That was why Jan didn't hunt anymore.

She contemplated calling Dean and telling him about the demon. But she knew if she did, she would end up blaming him even more.

Nothing bad had happened to Alice or Cara, so he didn't need to know.

She then thought about calling Alice, but decided-once again-that would draw Alice's suspicions.

She felt like a liar.

Jan had told Nina to control the fear, not let it rule her.

But there was something Jan didn't tell her.

The evil still gripped Jan's life. When Alice or Cara was around, she could tamp it down, even forget about it. But for the longest time after her husband died, she couldn't make it go away. The ugly memories and knowledge of what was out there sat on her shoulders like wet bags of sand.

The weight never went away and even years later, it still crushed Jan.

She didn't know why she told Nina that. She wanted to tell her the truth but knew that wouldn't be fair to the young woman.

If Sonja was right about St. Maniglia, then Jan felt a lot like the woman. The woman was painted to be a saint, but according to the demon, she was anything but that. Maybe people saw Jan as a weird, but well meaning old lady. Really though, she was so twisted on the inside, her instinct now was to lie. Lie to those she cared about.

If that's what it took to be a saint, Jan decided, someone should canonize her right there and now.

Thank you all so much for the favorites and follows. It would really mean a lot if you guys reviewed and let me know what thought. I'm really glad it seems like you guys are enjoying what I write!