Chapter 3-Dark Intent

Set during Season 13, Episode 14-Good Intentions

Warning: Trigger for survivors of sexual assault-PTSD

A/N: Sexual assault is NEVER your fault. If you suspect you or someone you love has been a victim of sexual assault, get help for them. ASK them if you can be or call someone to be their support person at the ER, police station, or wherever they are at. Talk to someone you trust or call the National Sexual Assault Hotline, day or night, at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673).

This chapter is lovingly dedicated to all the brave women and men out there who have survived and kept on fighting & healing from trauma.

"I don't know what I did, Sammy. I just asked her if she was ok, and then she ran back to her room. She seemed so scared." Dean rubbed the back of his neck and glanced over at Cass. "And he's seemed sulky ever since we told him we needed to wait on looking for Lucifer."

"We've all been under a lot of stress lately, Dean. I can go check in on her…" Sam was suddenly interrupted by Donatello screaming "Eureka!" and running into the room. After they agreed on the plan, Dean and Cass went to find Gog and Magog while he and Donatello stayed behind to assemble the spell ingredients.

Donatello asked him for Dead Sea brine and wolfsbane. He headed to the storage room. As he was going past Emma's room, he heard sobbing. He stopped and slowly walked back to the door. "Emma?" Sam knocked, then called again. "Emma, are you okay?" The door opened slowly, and Emma was standing there, her face red and puffy from crying.

"S…sorry…Sam." She brushed the fresh tears away with the back of her hand. "I just can't stop crying." She sniffled as more tears ran down her cheeks. Sam pulled her into a warm hug and held her until the sobbing subsided into deep breaths punctuated by the occasional sniff. He released her and smiled at her gently. "I'm working on something that's time sensitive at the moment, but I'm here if you need to talk. I washed your clothes & they're in the women's bathroom just down the hall on the right. You're the only woman here at the moment so you would have a soothing hot shower all to yourself." Emma's ears perked up at the word shower. "That sounds great, thank you, Sam." Sam patted her on the shoulder, then headed down the hall.

The women's bathroom reminded Emma of her college dormitory's bathroom in size. There were three shower stalls off to the left with a little hall and benches in front of them, directly in front of her were three sinks with ample counter space and mirrors above, and opposite them, a large claw foot tub, and on the back side of the showers, another short hallway with three individual bathroom stalls. Next to the tub was a tall wardrobe cabinet, and when Emma opened it, she found her clothes, towels, a robe, several soft fluffy towels and toiletries. She would have to try the claw foot tub later. Right now, a shower sounded amazing. She locked the door and quickly undressed. She started the shower and waited for the water to heat up. She slipped in and sighed with contentment as the hot water hit her skin. It was like the water was washing away all the bad memories and washing her clean. After what seemed like an hour, she reluctantly got out and dried off with the warm fluffy towel. She knew she was physically safe, yet a shiver still went up her spine as she finished dressing. She ran a comb through her straight hair, working out the tangles until it flowed past her shoulders to the middle of her back. She'd have to pick up some conditioner & clothes when she went out next. She also needed to call into work. Thank goodness it was Saturday and no one would expect her back until Monday. She hummed to herself as she walked out the door. It was a nervous habit that she'd had since she was a child. Music had always made her feel better and when she couldn't hear it, she created it herself.

She wandered into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. Sam had told her that she was free to roam anywhere there wasn't a locked door. She hadn't explored too much yet, just trying to get her bearings after all the recent events. Intuitively, she knew she could trust Sam. She had a natural empathy that she had finely tuned over 38 years of life. The only time it was ever faulty was when she was drunk. And since college, she'd hadn't ever gotten to that point again. She wondered where Sam was. His offer to talk was genuine and she could certainly use some help putting together the pieces of what happened to her in the past day and a half. Lost in thought, she wandered into the map room only to find Sam lying on the floor unconscious. She quickly looked around, then put down her glass on the table and gently shook him.

"Sam? Sam!"

Sam opened his eyes to find Emma kneeling beside him, her hazel eyes looking worried. "What happened, Sam?", she asked. "You've got a nasty bruise on your forehead." He winced as her fingers gently touched the side of his head.

"Donatello." Sam said, sitting up slowly.

"The Ninja Turtle or the sculptor?" Emma asked teasingly.

Sam laughed. "Neither, I'm afraid. He's a prophet that was translating something for us and he just went crazy. We need to find him before he gets any worse." Sam stood up, determined. "I'll explain later, I promise."

"Okay, what can I do and how can I help?"

"We need to distract him and then I can lock him up. Think you're up to being a distraction? He doesn't know you, so you'd definitely fit the bill nicely."

"You're sure he won't hurt me?" Emma shivered.

"I won't let him hurt you. Besides, he thinks I'm still unconscious. He'll never know what hit him." The plan did work out nicely. Emma walked gingerly and quietly down the hallways, Sam trailing behind. She found that the bunker was designed in a long rectangle of hallways surrounding the main map chamber, with a few short end branches leading to the garage and storage. It was in one of these storage rooms that she heard Donatello muttering. She motioned wordlessly to Sam to approach, then pointed at the open door. Sam nodded confirmation and crouched down just to the opposite side, hidden from sight.

"Excuse me? Can you help me? I'm trying to find the kitchen." Emma said loudly. Donatello spun around and said, "Who are you? What are you doing here?" He advanced on her as she backed away, right past the open door. Sam put his shoulder into the door with such force that it hit Donatello in the forehead and knocked him back on his ass.

"Great work, Emma!" Sam picked up the stunned prophet and held him with his hands behind his back. "I'll get him locked up and meet you in the map room." Emma stopped by the kitchen long enough to get Sam an ice pack. Hopefully now they could talk.

"So, that was fun." Emma handed Sam the ice pack.

"Thanks." Sam sat down and held it up to his bruised forehead. He pulled the laptop over and typed in a few commands.

"What are you doing?"

"We have a video feed in the storage room I put him in. Let's just say we get enough people we need to watch that it's on most of the time. I'm just connecting to it with the laptop."

"So you guys are some kind of law enforcement, then?"

Sam smirked. "You could say that. Dean and Cass will be back soon, we'll discuss what to do with him then."

Emma's eyes went wide. "Dean's the one with the green eyes, right?" Sam looked at her alarmed, as her breathing starting to ramp up.

"He told me this morning that he thought he scared you. Is that true?"

"Yes. Let's just say that I don't want to be in any room with him alone, okay?"

Sam looked at her quizzically. He opened his mouth to ask her about it when the main door banged open and he heard Cass and Dean talking as they came down the stairs. Emma got up suddenly and ran down the hall.

Dean caught a glimpse of Emma and shook his head. "What the hell did I do?"

"Until we know, let's give her some space and I'll try to talk with her. Remember, jerk, I'm the sensitive one." Sam laughed.

"Okay, bitch." Dean said. "Now, about Donatello…." After talking it through and coming to the conclusion that Donatello is corrupted and can't be fixed, Cass heads off to get the spell.

Back in her room, Emma hears pounding, then screaming and a high pitched ringing in her ears. She can't tell if it's from her own mind or outside. She never thought she'd be triggered so easily, after so many years. She sat on the bed, hugging her legs against her chest. She silently willed herself to breathe in and out.

1…2..3..4

hold 2…3..4

release 2..3…4.

Eventually the soothing breathing rhythm does its job and returns her peace. She has been SO emotional lately. Her eyes close, her fingers find her temples and start to massage in slow circles. She hears a soft knock at her door.

"Come in." Castiel enters the room and immediately, Emma can see he's agitated.

"Castiel, what's wrong? What's going on?" Her eyes were wide and curious. She moved up to the head of the bed, motioning for him to sit down in front of her. As he sits, his shoulders slump and he puts his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Emma. It's just that Sam and Dean are gone and I need someone to talk to."

"Of course! I'm a great listener. Does this have anything to do with that Ninja Turtle prophet Sam and I trapped in storage?" Cass' blue eyes grew wide, then returned to normal.

"Yes, it does." he said sadly.

"Okay, start from the beginning and tell me what a prophet is. Sam was going to, but he didn't have the chance." After two hours of talking, Emma knew a lot more about where she was, who Sam and Dean were (and what they actually did), and how Donatello fit in and what had happened to him. She had just crammed "Supernatural 101" in 2 hours and her mind was still spinning.

"So with your angel abilities, you were able to do a Vulcan mind meld thing with him and get what you really needed for the spell?" Emma asked.

"Yes, except this time it was different. I didn't have permission and I am feeling very unsettled by the experience." Castiel hung his head, ashamed.

"That's understandable if you did something that you ethically knew was wrong for the right reasons. You went against your own moral code. You're fighting with your own conscience. In my work, I often have to help others understand that their thoughts, feelings and actions are separate pieces of the same puzzle." Emma said gently.

"But I did it for the right reasons. I did it to protect the people I love. I feel….angry…sad…ashamed…is that normal?" Castiel looked up at her, his eyes pleading for an answer, an end to his pain. Emma reached over and took his hand in hers.

"Yes, Castiel, it's very normal to feel conflicting emotions like this. I can be here to support you and to help you with strategies when you feel overwhelmed by emotion. Eventually, the emotions will become less intense."

Cass looked at her, understanding crossing his face. "Thank you, Emma. Talking with you is like talking with my best friend Dean. I enjoyed this talk very much." A loud buzzing noise sounded from his trench coat, then kept repeating. Castiel pulled out his cell phone and looked at the screen. "Sam and Dean are headed back from the hospital. They want to talk about what happened." He rose to leave, tenderly squeezed her hand, then let go.

"Goodbye, Castiel."

As he opened the door, he paused, turned and said, "Emma? We need to talk about what happened to you earlier, but this isn't the right time. My friends call me Cass. I'd like it if you did too." Emma felt her cheeks blush slightly. He smiled, then closed the door behind him.

Emma had just finished dressing for bed in Sam's flannels when she heard another knock at the door. Was Cas back again? She knew if it was, she wouldn't say no. He was so easy to talk to.

"It's open."

Sam walked in. "Hi, Emma. I'm not intruding, am I?"

"No, Sam, not at all. I was just getting settled for bed." She walked over and slipped her feet into the covers. Sam sat down in the chair he had been reading in earlier and turned it slightly so they could talk face to face.

"I owed you an explanation about the prophet." Emma stopped him with a wave of her hand.

"No need, Sam. In the last 2 hours, I have learned more than I ever dreamed possible about prophets and supernatural creatures. I also know you're not 'normal', she motioned with air quotes 'law enforcement'."

Sam studied her face, then said, "Does that bother you?"

Emma smiled and shook her head. "No, not really. Cass was good at explaining why you do what you do. He mentioned you do have some real law enforcement friends who are in the know. And I have always believed in the possibility that there was something more out there."

Sam sighed. "Still, it's a hell of an introduction. The 'talk', as we affectionally call it, never gets easier. I'm glad to see you're taking it well." Sam stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Why does my brother scare you so much?" Emma's physical reaction to Sam's question was immediate. She pulled the covers up over her body, as if trying to hide. Her arms hugged her legs once more, and she held on tightly.

"I'm sorry, if this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to…." Sam said softly.

"…but I want to, Sam. I can't run away from him forever and he deserves an explanation. I'm just not ready to tell him myself yet." Emma took a deep, shaky breath and started talking in a cool, clinical tone. "I met this frat boy named Blake two weeks into my freshman year at college. He was in my Psych 101 class and sat next to me. The first thing I noticed about him were his striking green eyes and short blond hair. We traded notes and just generally chatted. Then one Friday during class, he asked me if I wanted to be his special guest at a toga party his frat was having that night. I didn't have anything planned and I had a bit of a crush on him, so I said, 'Yes.'

He smiled at me and winked. 'See you at 9:00, looking fine!' He was so charming and funny.

I told my roommate Jessica I'd be out for a couple hours and made myself a toga out of a bed sheet. When I got there, it was the usual scene. Drunk people dancing to loud music. They had a makeshift bar in one corner of the room." Emma paused and took a deep breath.

Sam sat forward, elbows on his knees, listening intently. He was just there, waiting patiently, not rushing her or her story. And she was very grateful for that.

"I figured I'd have a few, dance a little, flirt a little, and then politely leave. Partying just wasn't really my thing. Blake came up to me and said, 'Nice toga, Emma! Let's get you a drink.' He took me over to the bar. 'What do you like?'

I said, 'Do you have any Cheladas?' The bartender opened a cooler behind the bar, rummaged around and handed him a Chelada. It tasted so good that I drank it down pretty fast.

After I finished, he said, 'How about a cocktail this time?'

I laughed and said, 'Okay, but then I'm done for the night.'

Blake smiled. 'Since you like tomato, how about a Bloody Mary?' He turned and said, 'Hey, George! Mix up a Bloody Mary for my lovely lady!' The bartender passed the glass over to him and he brought it over to me.

I remember feeling flattered and happy. He had called me his girl. I drank about half of it and said, 'Let's dance!' and pulled him onto the dance floor with me. I suddenly felt like the world was in slow motion. The last thing I remember is seeing those green eyes turn cold and him saying, 'That's it, she's ready now.'"

Emma shivered, staring at the wall in front of her as she talked about the last thing she remembered. She bit her lip, and then continued.

"I woke up the next morning and didn't know where I was. I was lying on a bed, completely naked, and the sunlight was so bright…my whole body hurt. I got up and wrapped myself in the sheet. I couldn't find my purse, I went downstairs and looked in the room from the night before. I was so confused that I just started walking back to my dorm. When I got there, Jessica took one look at the bruises on my face, arms and legs, and said, 'Emma, you need to go to the hospital NOW. I'll drive you, or I can call 911.'

I felt so dirty. 'Just let me go to the bathroom first.'

'No, Emma, let's go now and you can go there, okay?' Jessica reached out a hand.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I had been sexually assaulted and Jessica was looking out for me."

Sam inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything. He put his hands together as if in prayer, and then lifted them up under his nose and closed his eyes. Emma closed her eyes too as she remembered the worst part about that day.

"Jessica stayed with me while they did bloodwork and lab work, took pictures, and even held my hand during the physical exam. It was all a blur in a flurry of activity, and I honestly don't know how I could have made it through that day without her. In the end, I learned that I had been drugged, most likely with GHB, and sexually assaulted by multiple guys."

A sob escaped her throat, and she felt hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Sam got up, knelt down by the bed, and asked, "Can I hug you?" She nodded, and felt his strong arms wrap around her, holding her tightly but gently against his chest. She let herself be comforted by his warmth and his unspoken support.

"Dr. Hall came in and she said that my body would heal in time and there wouldn't be any lasting permanent damage. I would be able to have children if I wanted them. She recommended that I see a counselor to heal emotionally from the trauma. She gave me antibiotics and asked me to follow up in a few weeks. The worst part for me was that I had never been intimate with anyone before that and I felt like my innocence had been stolen, ripped away from me. I was so angry. I just wanted it to be over. After I gave my statement to the police, they asked if I wanted to press charges. I know I should have, it's just that…."

Fresh tears streamed down Emma's cheeks. Sam continued to hold her, making soothing, soft sounds, and just letting her cry out her anger, frustration, sadness, loss, and grief. When all the tears were spent, she sat up and wiped her face.

"Thank you, Sam. Every time I tell the story, it gets a little easier." Emma was so tired and emotionally exhausted.

"I'm going to let you get some sleep. After that, I'll bet you could use some. " He smiled at her tenderly, then got up and stretched. He was so tall that his fingertips almost touched the ceiling.

"I'll take care of Dean and let him know it's just something you're working through." Sam smiled mischievously. "Or I could just let him keep thinking you hate him and let him stew in his own juices for a while."

Emma shook her head. "No, Sam, I think your first suggestion was better. I will tell him when I'm ready. But…. if you ever need an accomplice for some practical jokes, I'm up for that." Emma said with a conspiratorial grin.

"Good night, Sam."

"Good night, Emma. We'll see you in the morning." Sam closed the door behind him and rubbed his eyes. He thought about what Emma had gone through and shook his head in amazement. To still keep carrying on, it was a testament to her strength and character. She was definitely in good company. Everyone in the bunker had been through trauma, multiple times. But they didn't let it break them or define them. She was becoming less of a mystery and more of a comrade-in-arms. He just hoped he could get Dean to realize that.