1. The Magnificent Seven

It had been quiet. Now normally, this would've been great news. It would mean I could kick up my feet, have a couple of drinks, maybe find someone up for a good time. But now? The quiet was a little too disconcerting, seeing as the gates of hell had been opened less than a week ago.

I'd been waiting with bated breath for my cell to ring, telling me to gear up, to prepare for a fight. Yet there had been complete radio silence. That didn't mean I'd rested. Oh no, instead I'd made myself exhausted. I was too wired. Too busy wondering if we could've kept those gates closed that night. Too ready for the battle that was surely inevitable. I just wanted whatever was going to happen, to happen. Famous last words.

And I was probably going to regret thinking that sooner than I'd liked. Bobby had called a few hours ago, ordering me to get my ass down to Lincoln, Nebraska—which was pretty much all he'd said to me. Seemed as if he may have found our first sign of a demon. I passed the hours driving by contemplating exactly what had gotten out. None of the thoughts were comforting. Hopefully we had enough man power between us to beat whatever the hell it was.

I eventually pulled up beside a lone house, surrounded by acres of land and dense forests. Before I'd even opened my door, I could hear the overwhelming drone of buzzing cicadas. I got out and walked up to Bobby who was standing with the Winchester boys.

"Hey, Princess. Knew you couldn't stay away from me for long," Dean said through a mouthful of burger.

Already over Dean's ego after being in his presence for two seconds, I swiftly ignored him. "Hey Sam. Bobby." My smile lighter for Sam than it was for Bobby. I may have been up for fighting with him against the forces of evil and all that, but Bobby and I hadn't exactly had the best first impressions of one another. It wasn't my fault that he'd been a judgemental ass.

It was good to see Sam though. I hadn't realised fully until I was standing in front of him, how worried I'd been about him. While Dean had fed me that story—which I still wasn't entirely sure I believed—about him managing to bring Sam back from the dead because a reaper owed him a favour, I hadn't known if Sam was one hundred percent ok. But he seemed as Sam-ish as usual.

"What? I don't get a hello?" Dean grumbled as a piece of burger fell from his mouth.

I reached out and snatched the burger from his hand and took a bigger bite as I could manage.

"Hey!" He grabbed it back from me and looked it over with a grumpy frown on his childish face.

I shrugged. "I didn't have breakfast."

I didn't hear what he mumbled under his breath.

"What do you think, Bobby?" Sam asked. "We got a biblical plague here or what?"

Biblical plague? Jeez. It really was the end of days.

"Well, let's find out," Bobby said as he strode towards the house, drawing his gun. "Looks like the swarm's ground zero."

The cicadas were making one hell of a noise that was for sure.

As I made my way to follow Bobby and Sam, Dean came up beside me.

"Looking good as ever." He bopped his finger on my nose with a boyish grin.

Did he just… did he really just do that? "Bop me on the nose again, and I'mma break yours."

At my threat, his grin only widened. "Ooh, that's mean… I like it."

What the hell is up with him? He was in a damn strange, dare I say, happy mood.

Dean and I caught up to the others, everyone with their guns drawn.

Dean banged on the front door. "Candygram!"

Moron.

When there was no response, he jigged the lock. The rest of us raised our guns– Bobby had the Colt. As soon as we stepped inside, we were hit with a wall of death. To be more precise, it was the smell of death. It was thick in the air and I had to refrain from gagging as flies buzzed around us. Even breathing through my mouth wasn't going to help with this one. The thought of whatever was lingering in the air, landing on my tongue was too gross to contemplate.

"That's awful," Sam said as Dean all but choked on the air.

"That so can't be a good sign," Dean managed to say.

Without another word, we separated; one by one we checked the rooms. Bobby and I took the door to the left, while the boys took the right. Aside from the incessant buzzing of flies, the house was eerily silent. And I soon found out why. Bobby and I headed down the hall where Sam and Dean had gone.

As soon as we stepped into the room, I flung my hand over my mouth and shook my head fiercely. "Oh, my God. Nope. Nuh uh."

The family, or what was left of their mummified corpses, sat on the couch in front of a T.V. which was still on. Their flesh was greyed and shrunken. And the smell was…

"Bobby, what the hell happened here?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," he replied.

Forget the chatting, someone open a damn window! The humid air was not helping the stench.

"Check for sulfur," Dean said.

We checked on the floor, on the couch, on the mantelpiece. Nothing. No signs of demons anywhere. So what the hell had happened? Were demons even involved? Bobby had found omens in the area. Something had to be up. And I didn't see why we couldn't discuss this outside.

Dean and I were knelt by the window when a creak sounded from the porch. Dean and I locked gazes. Someone was outside. Dean whistled to get the others' attention. Silently, Bobby and I went for the front door, while Sam and Dean split up to head them off in other directions. There was nothing but the noise of the cicadas that greeted us when we opened the door. The wood creaked under our feet as we slowly swept around the house with our guns once more at the ready.

Suddenly a struggle and a thud sounded from around the corner. Bobby and I rushed around to find Dean flat on his back with a man standing above him, shotgun pointed at his face. A woman stood beside him.

I raised my gun but before I could have it trained on the strangers, Bobby held his hand out, telling me to stop.

"Isaac? Tamara?" he asked as he stepped forwards.

"Bobby. What the hell are you doing here?"

Huh. I hadn't seen that coming. Must have been hunters.

"I could ask the same," Bobby said.

"Heya, Bobby." Good ol' Issac smiled and shook Bobby's hand. Seemed like there really was no threat.

Dean, still on his back, stuck his hand in the air and waved it around. "Hello. Bleeding here."

Bobby huffed. "Ignore him." He began to lead them away, obviously wanting to save the introductions for another time.

I walked over to Dean, and gave him my hand to help haul him up. Not that he need it. The man-child wasn't even bleeding.

"Get up, you big baby."

He brushed himself down. "Are you gonna kiss my boo-boos better?"

I frowned. Had he been possessed? He seemed awfully chipper and more playful than normal. "Seriously? What the hell is up with you?"

"I'm just enjoying life. You know, waking up and smelling the roses and all that."

I reached into the inner pocket of my denim jacket and took out the small bottle of holy water I'd put in there once I knew we were likely hunting demons. Without a word to Dean, I unscrewed the lid and splashed the water in his face.

He stood there in stunned silence for a moment before asking, "What the hell was that for?"

I shrugged nonchalantly and placed the bottle back into my pocket. "You're acting weird. Weirder than usual."

He wiped the water from his face with his sleeve and matched my shrug with his own. "What can I say? The impending demon war has made me see things in a new light."

I shot him another look of disbelief. "That's a terrifying thought."

"Don't be afraid of me, Princess. You know I'd never hurt you." He winked.

I rolled my eyes and started walking in the direction Bobby and his buddies had gone. "Get a grip."

"If you say so." He grabbed a handful of my ass but before I could sucker punch him, he dashed ahead of me. What the hell was going on with him?

After we gave them the lowdown on what we'd found inside, Tamara and Isaac led us to the house they were holed up in. They'd clearly been there a while, though I wouldn't have exactly called the place cosy. The house was ramshackle, with papers pinned to the wall which were otherwise stripped bare. There was even what I could only call voodoo stuff hanging from a small chandelier. Home sweet home.

"Jenny! That is a beautiful name. That's my sister's name, actually." Dean was working his usual magic to find out what had happened to the family. We had called it in—anonymously, obviously—and I for one was dying to find out what had happened to the family. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't natural.

"Honey? Where's the Palo Santo?" Isaac asked.

"Well, where'd you leave it?"

"I don't know, dear. That's why I'm asking."

I hadn't fully made up my mind yet about the two of them. They may have been hunter buddies of Bobby, but that didn't mean a damn thing to me. I'd always been predisposed to not trusting strangers—hunters or not. Why change the habit of a lifetime?

"Palo Santo?" Sam asked as we stood observing the objects handing from the chandelier. My eye was caught by the freaky bald babydoll. I didn't know whether it was actually a voodoo one or not, but either way it was creepy as hell.

"It's holy wood from Peru," Tamara explained as she went to search for it. "It's toxic to demons like holy water. Keeps the bastards nailed down while you're exorcising them." She found the stake and handed it to Isaac.

Hmm. She seemed to know what she was talking about. Wouldn't hurt to get our hands on some of that holy wood.

"Thank you, dear," Isaac said.

She smiled. "You'd lose your head if it wasn't for me."

"So, how long you two been married?" Sam asked as he leaned against the table.

"Eight years this past June," Tamara answered.

Isaac lovingly kissed her on the head. "The family that slays together..."

"Right. I'm with you there. So, how'd you get started?" The smile fell from both their faces at Sam's question. "I, uh, you know... I'm sorry. It's not–that's none of my business." Bobby gave him a slight shake of the head.

"No, no. It's–it's all right." Tamara did a fairly good job at shaking off the awkwardness that had erupted in the room.

"Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, I'd love to have an... appletini. Yeah. Call you." Dean ended the call with an eyeroll. "That was the coroner's tech."

Poor Jenny was going to be waiting around a long time for that phone call. Although, she'd actually dodged a large, Dean Winchester shaped bullet. Lucky Jenny after all.

"And?" Sam urged.

"Get this–that whole family? Cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."

What the hell? That made no sense. No sense whatsoever. Could a demon even do something like that?

"But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away," Bobby said.

"Right. What is this, a demon attack?" Good question, Sammy.

"If it is, it's not like anything I ever saw, and I've seen plenty," Bobby responded. I wasn't sure if that made me feel any better or not.

"Well, what now?" Dean asked. "What should we do?"

"Uh, 'we're' not gonna do anything," Isaac said with a shake of his head.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"You guys seem nice enough but this ain't 'Scooby-Doo' and we don't play well with others."

"Well, I think we'd cover a lot more ground if we all worked together," Sam said.

"No offense, but we're not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get opened in the first place."

Ok, I'd officially made up my mind. I didn't like him.

Dean stepped forward. "No offense?"

"Isaac," Tamara chided him. "Like you've never made a mistake."

"Oh yeah, yeah. Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though."

I couldn't help it, I let out a chuckle as I folded my arms and did my own head shaking.

Isaac turned to me. "What's funny?"

"You," I said. "It's funny that I don't remember seeing you putting your ass on the line at all while the demons were trying to open up Hell. Wait, you must have been busy." I raised a mocking eyebrow. "Doing your laundry?"

"All right. That's enough." Dean stepped up to my side.

"Guys, this isn't helping—" Sam, ever the calming voice, added.

"Look, there are couple hundred more demons out there now," Isaac said. "We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us–on all of us."

I scoffed. "Save your whiny bullshit. If you're not feeling up to the task, feel free to sit this one out. Either that or shut up and get on with it."

A snarl rose on Isaac's face as he made towards me. "Now listen here lady—"

Before he could take another step, Tamara grabbed hold of his arm. "Okay, that's quite enough testosterone from you." She pulled him out of the room.

My eyes tracked them, more specifically him, out of the room until Dean blocked the way. "You can put your claws away now, kitten."

My shoulders slumped as I let out a sigh. I wasn't sure if I'd overreacted. Wasn't sure I cared if I did.

"You good?" he asked.

I nodded. "He just rubbed me the wrong way. I'm fine."

A sly grin stretched across his lips and I knew I wasn't going to like what he was about to say next. "Want me to rub you the right way?"

Yep. I was right. Instead of giving him a response, I just glared at him, shooting him what I was fast learning was my 'I'm-about-to-kill-Dean-Winchester' look.

Safe to say, Dean got my message loud and clear. He nodded as he scratched the back of his head. "I'm just gonna go… away." He ventured out into the hallway.

What had gotten into Dean since the last time I saw him a week ago? Granted, he was a flirt by nature, and we had done a whole lot more than just flirt in the past. But something felt different. Something felt off about it. Maybe I was just overtired, overthinking.

Bobby was the next one to saunter over to me. "You get whatever that was out of your system?"

"Hey, I was perfectly reasonable." I shrugged. "Damn polite if you ask me."

He huffed. "Well if that's the case, I'd hate to see you being unreasonable."

Oh, you would, Bobby. You really would.

The following morning, we assumed we were gonna be stuck doing research. After all, what were we supposed to do with the information Dean had gathered from the coroner's tech? Thankfully, there had been another incident. Damn, it was bad to be thankful about someone's death, wasn't it? Naughty Rae.

Anyway, a woman had apparently beaten another woman to death over a pair of shoes outside of a local shop. Maybe related, maybe not. But it was worth a look.

While Dean and Sam headed for the crime scene, Bobby and I drove to the police station. We got suited and booted, acting as her defence attorney. It was safe to say the conversation had been... interesting.

"Well, she was a certified, grade A nutcase," I said as we left the station.

The woman wasn't possessed—a little holy water had cleared that up quickly. She'd had no blackouts, no loss of memory. She just wanted the shoes. She was ready to kill for them, and did so.

"There must be something there," Bobby said as we headed back to his car. "Too much of a coincidence with the family and now this. Let's see what the boys have got."

We climbed in the car and Bobby started the short drive back to Sam and Dean. Dean had woken up in a very chipper mood that morning. He hadn't even complained about starting the research. Instead he'd sat down with a smile, said, "Morning, Princess. Looks like someone got their beauty sleep." Then threw me a wink and cracked open a book. Like I'd said… weird.

"Hey, Bobby?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"You think Dean's been acting weird? Different?" I kinda hoped it wasn't just me that had noticed it.

"Can't say I do. Dean's just Dean."

So much for that hope.

"Hmm. He just seems more… sprightly than usual."

"Sprightly?" Bobby seemed torn between shock and confusion at my choice of words, which was fair enough.

Still. Something was niggling at me. For the life of me, I couldn't drop it. Something was off, ever since… "You ever find out what happened that night with Sam? How he came back?"

Was it just me or had he shifted a little in his seat at my question?

"Dean told me a story about a reaper," he replied.

"You believe him?" I asked. After all, he knew Dean better than I did. Did he have the same doubts about Dean's story that I did when he'd first told me?

He shrugged, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. "I've heard crazier stories."

Was he keeping his eyes a little too firmly on the road? "You wouldn't happen to be lying now, would you?" I asked, unable to keep the suspicion from my question.

He made eye contact with me for a split second before returning them to the road. "What reason would I have to lie?"

And that was the question, wasn't it? Why would he need to lie. Why would Dean need to lie?

I pondered over the questions as we continued the drive, unable to come up with an answer that made sense. Could it be that Dean had told me the truth? Sure. Bobby wasn't wrong when he'd said he'd heard crazier stories. Hadn't we all?

We pulled up outside the shop. There was still a crowd gathered around and police were still collecting forensic evidence. Judging by the blood on the ground and on the smashed windshield, she'd hit her a lot harder than she'd claimed. We headed past the crowd and into the shop.

Sam and Dean were chatting in the middle of the store.

"Whoa," Dean said as we approached. "Looking spiffy, Bobby. What were you, a G-man?"

"Attorney for the D.A.'s office," Bobby responded as he adjusted his tie. "We just spoke to the suspect."

"Yeah? So, what do you think? Is she possessed or what?" Sam asked.

"Don't think so. There's none of the usual signs–no blackouts, no loss of control. Totally lucid. She just really wanted those shoes."

"Which might have made more sense if they were a nicer pair of shoes. It's not like they were Louboutins or anything," I added.

All three men turned to me, looks of shock on their faces.

"What?" I said, a little offended. "In case you had forgotten, I'm a chick. I know some chick stuff."

"Oh believe me, I hadn't forgotten," Dean said with a wink.

Did he really need to keep on? It was bad enough doing it privately, but in front of Sam and Bobby? I clenched my fist, "You're really asking for—"

"I spilled a glass of holy water on her just to be sure. Nothing." Bobby probably just saved Dean from a broken nose by interrupting. Spoiling my fun.

"Maybe she's just some random whack job." Dean's gaze tracked a pretty blonde as she walked past. The man was a pig.

"If it had been an isolated incident, maybe, but first the family, now this? I believe in a lot of things. Coincidence ain't one of them. Did you boys find anything around here?" Bobby asked.

Sam shook his head. "No sulfur, nothing."

"Well, maybe something." Dean turned his head towards a camera. Bingo! Hopefully it would give us some of the answers we were getting desperate for.

"See? I'm working," Dean said with a pointed look to Sam. I wasn't going to ask what that was about. Sam had probably caught Dean flirting on the job… again.

"Let's go see what we see," I said as we made for the employee area, Sam and Bobby leading the way.

Dean came up behind me, talking quietly into my ear. "You should really wear pantsuits more often. The view from behind is—"

I stopped and spun to face him. "You know what? I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but you are really pushing your luck mister." I poked my finger into his chest.

"'Mister'? Damn, I must be in big trouble." He couldn't supress his grin.

God the man was infuriating. The flirting had been non-stop. The sheer happiness rolling off of him had been non-stop. Even the—

"If you hate me flirting with you so much, then why haven't you beaten me into a bloody pulp yet?" He continued. "You haven't even threatened to punch me in the throat."

That was… well of course I… It's not like I hadn't thought it. So why wasn't I saying any of this out loud?

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You like it when I turn on the Dean Winchester charm." He wiggled his eyebrows. You can't resist—Ow! Goddamnit, Princess!"

Finally my mind and body had gotten into gear, and I'd dealt him a solid punch to the stomach. There. Now I felt better.

We caught up with the others, Dean grumbling behind me all the while. They'd already started looking through the CCTV footage.

"Anything interesting?" Dean asked as he rubbed his stomach.

"I don't know yet," Sam said. "Might just be a guy. Or it might be our guy."

On the screen, a man walked up to Little Miss Shoe Murderer and started talking to her. He then placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping it there for some time. It didn't seem like they knew each other so the interaction was definitely strange.

No prizes for guessing who we were hunting down next.

I swung open Bobby's passenger side door and tried my best to slam the passenger seat forward so I could climb into the back—it made it slightly more difficult as Dean was sitting in it. He bitched as I tried to fold him into a pretzel and climbed in.

"Nothing," I said. We'd all split up trying to find the guy on the CCTV. It had been a total waste on my part.

"What time is it?" Bobby asked.

"Seven past midnight," Dean answered.

"You sure this is the right place?" Seemed like Bobby was getting a bit restless.

"No," Dean said. "But I spent all day canvassing this stupid town with this guy's stupid mug and, supposedly, he drinks at this... stupid bar."

Guess Bobby wasn't the only restless one.

"You're so eloquent," I said to Dean.

"Elo- what?"

"We looked! Then we saw him step on the mat! We looked! And we saw him! The cat in the hat!"

He turned to face me. The confusion on his face was worth having to put up with him the past couple of days. "What the hell are you going on about, Princess?"

"Dr Seuss. You're obviously not used to big words, so I thought I'd say something more on your level," I said with a smile. Putting Dean in his place really did feel like therapy.

"And you just happen to be able to quote Dr Seuss?" He said.

As a matter of fact, yes. It had been one of Sophie's favourite books. God knows how many times she'd forced me to read it to her. And yeah, I'd read it so much, I ended up not even needing the book to tell the story. Not that I was going to talk about that here and now. A change of subject was needed.

"Sounds to me like someone needs to—"

A bang on the car roof had all three of us jumping in our seats. Sam's smirking face peered in the window. Damn felt like my heart was gonna burst out my chest.

"That's not funny!" Dean complained as Sam opened the door and Dean was once again shoved forward in his seat.

I shuffled over as Sam settled next to me. I gave him a whack across the arm for scaring the shit outta me. He winced but didn't look all that apologetic, not if that gleam in his eyes was anything to go by.

"All right, so John Doe's name is Walter Rosen. He's from Oak Park, just west of Chicago. Went missing about a week ago."

At least one of us was successful today and at least we had a solid lead.

"The night the Devil's Gate opened," Dean said.

"Yeah."

"So you think he's possessed?"

"Well, it's a good bet," Sam agreed. "So... what? He just walks up to someone, touches them and they go stark raving psycho?"

"Those demons that got out at the gate–they're gonna do all kinds of things we haven't seen."

Thanks for that comforting thought, Bobby.

"You mean the demons we let out," Sam said.

"Sam," I sighed. "We didn't exactly roll out the red carpet." I wasn't sure he was ever going to let go of the guilt, misplaced or not, of that night. But that was ok. I wasn't going to stop reminding him it wasn't our fault, or his. Even if hunters like Isaac had other ideas.

"But still, we—"

"Guys," Dean interrupted.

We all looked to where his attention had been drawn to. Across the parking lot, our guy Walter was walking into the bar.

"All right. Showtime." Dean went to open his door.

"Wait a minute," Bobby said.

"What?"

"What'd I just say? We don't know what to expect out of this guy. We should tail him till we know for sure."

"Oh, so he kills someone and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?"

"We're no good dead! And we're not gonna make a move until we know what the score is."

Bobby made a good point. Though sitting back and watching never felt right to me. Who knows what he'd get up to in there.

"Hey, Bobby? I don't think that's an option," Sam said.

"Why not?"

Once more we turned our attention to the parking lot. Dumber and Dumber, aka Isaac and Tamara, were heading straight after Walter, straight into the bar. Straight into trouble.

"Damn it!" Bobby slapped his hand against the steering wheel.

I climbed over Sam and pushed Dean's chair forward again.

"I'm not a damn pretzel!"

I froze for a second. It was terrifying to think Dean and I had had the same thought. I quickly shook it off and clambered out.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked.

"I'm not gonna go inside, but we still need to know what's going on in there. I'll be back in a sec." I ran across the parking lot before any of them could stop me and crouched down by one of the windows. Slowly I leaned up trying to see in but there was some sort of mesh on the window. All I could see were blurry outlines.

"See anything?"

I jumped and spun around.

"Dammit Dean!" I whacked him a lot harder than I had Sam. Did he not know to not sneak up on people doing recon? Jeez. My heart was pounding fiercely again.

"Well?" he asked.

"I see a whole lot of nothing."

Dean followed me as I crept around the side of the bar. Every window was covered, so I had no idea—there! There was a small window high up on the side of the wall sans mesh. I looked around to find something to stand on but there was nothing nearby and I didn't have time to waste.

I turned to Dean. "Put me on your shoulders."

"What?" He looked as if I'd just asked him to swim the Atlantic Ocean naked.

"Just do it!" I shoved his shoulders down so he was crouched on the floor. I scrambled on to his shoulders and fought to keep my balance as he stood up.

Dean huffed out a long, suffering breath. "Jeez, you're heavier than you look. Ow!"

I'd slapped him across the head. He wobbled on shaky legs.

"Keep still." I was just the right height to peer into the window.

Thankfully the bar wasn't crowded—less civilians to worry about. I counted seven of them, plus Tamara and Isaac who were seated at a table. Walter was seated at the bar but he got up and wandered towards where the hunters were sitting. My breath caught for a moment, but thankfully he walked past them and out into another room, likely the bathroom. Did demons need to use bathrooms? I mean, did the normal human bodily functions continue? Questions to think about later.

Isaac got up, heading in the direction Walter went. Before he could get close, one of the guys in the bar grabbed his arm. Oh this isn't gonna be good. The guy holding Isaac didn't look all that friendly, he even…

"Shit," I muttered.

"What?"

I was hoping that my eyes had gone funny, but I knew that wasn't the case. The guy's eyes had turned black. But not only his…

"We got a problem," I said.

"Tell that to my shoulders. Ow!"

Another slap.

"They're demons. All of them."

The others in the bar approached and surrounded them. Isaac and Tamara were as good as dead.

"Dammit. We gotta move, now," I said as I climbed down from Dean's shoulders.

We ran to the front entrance and went to push the door open. The damn thing was locked. We threw ourselves at it, over and over, Sam and Bobby running over to join us. It was locked up tight.

"It's not budging," I said.

"Back to the car, now!" Bobby ran back and the rest of us, while confused at the order, followed him. We all climbed in and Bobby threw each of us a tankard of holy water before hitting the gas, heading straight to the bar.

Didn't take a genius to work out his plan.

"Brace yourselves!" The car sped towards the door and crashed through it, sending debris in every direction. The door was down... but we were too late.

We climbed out and started spraying the demons with the holy water. Sam and I lunged for Tamara, freeing her from the demon's grip. Isaac was dead. He lay on the floor by Tamara's feet in a pool of blood and drain cleaner. Damn. Still we continued flinging the water at the demons as we retreated back to the car. Sam bundled a still screaming, fighting Tamara into the car, and I followed. Bobby got in too and started the engine. Dean was—

"Come on, we got to go! He's dead! Get in the car!" Sam screamed at Dean, who was still throwing the holy water.

"Dean, come on! Dean!" Dean wasn't hearing him.

Just when I thought he'd come to his senses and was rounding the car to get in, he stopped at the trunk and opened it. What the hell is he doing?

"Dean! We gotta go!" I yelled as I got out.

Dean went to throw more holy water at the demon he has fighting, but he was out. Great. Just great.

Dean lashed out, hitting the demon with the canteen. He stumbled back into me. I spun him round and hit him too, sending him back into Dean's path.

One of the others grabbed me from behind. I threw my head back and they loosened their grip. It was enough for me to spin around and punch them, knocking them to the ground. I turned back to see Dean closing the trunk on the demon he'd thrown inside.

Dean grabbed my arm, shoving me towards the car door. I scrambled inside, Dean following.

"Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!"

Bobby hit the gas and we were outta there. We were safe. For now.

"Sam, grab his legs."

We'd pulled up outside Tamara and Isaac's place. Bobby had the trunk open and he and Sam grabbed the demon, hauling him inside. Tamara had already stormed in, no doubt preparing herself for a fight. I went to follow when Dean grabbed hold of my arm and spun me around.

"What the hell was that?" he growled as he clenched his fists.

He couldn't have actually been asking me that question. Not after his fun and games. "What do you mean what the hell was that? Are you kidding me?"

"You should have stayed in the car."

"I should have stayed…" What?! The damn fool had lost his mind! "You shouldn't have gone off half-cocked! What the hell were you thinking? Or were you even thinking at all?" I shoved him away from me and off my arm. He had no right being pissed at me.

"I saw an opportunity and I took it, all right?"

"An opportunity that could have gotten us all killed!" We had been up against seven demons, with only a drop of holy water between us. We were lucky as it was without Dean's little side quest. Did I really need to spell that out for him?

"Well it didn't and now we have the demon. We can figure out what these sons of bitches want, then send its ass back to hell. You're welcome." Without another word, he stormed off into the house.

"Don't you walk away from me, Dean Winchester! I'm so far from being done with you!" I stomped after him. I was preparing myself for World War three, when I became aware that it was already raging inside the house.

"And I say we're going back." Tamara was pacing like a caged animal.

"Just hold on a second." Sam tried to placate her.

"I left my husband bloody on the floor!" I may not have liked the dude all that much, but I knew the pain of having to leave a loved one like that. I wouldn't have wished it on anyone.

"Okay, I understand that, but we can't go back."

The Sam and Tamara show continued back and forth, neither getting what they wanted.

"Fine. Then you stay," Tamara said. "But I'm heading back to that bar."

"I'll go with her," Dean said, leading to her to the door.

"Here we go again," I muttered. What was with this suicide mission Dean was suddenly on?

"It's suicide, Dean!" Thank you, Sam! "How you gonna kill 'em? Can't shoot 'em. You can't stab 'em. They're not just gonna wait in line to get exorcised!" At least I knew I could count on Sam to be reasonable.

"I don't care!" Tamara screamed.

"We don't even know how many of them there are!" Even Sam was reaching his limit for sympathy.

Tamara I could understand; she was acting on emotion. Dean? Dean was just being stupid.

"Yeah, we do," Bobby said. "There's seven. Do you have any idea who we're up against?"

"No. Who?" Dean asked.

"The seven deadly sins, live and in the flesh!"

Oh crap.

""What's in the box?!" Dean said.

We all just looked at him in bafflement.

"Brad Pitt? 'Seven'? No?"

Bobby slammed the book shut he was holding and thrust it at Dean.

"What's this?" he asked.

"'Binsfeld's Classification of Demons,'" Bobby answered. "In 1589, Binsfeld ID'd the seven sins–not just as human vices but as actual devils."

Oh boy were we in a world of trouble. I thought it couldn't get worse that a bunch of normal demons got out of the gate that night. This was a lesson in never assuming. It was always worse.

"The family–they were touched by Sloth," Sam said. "And the shopper..."

"That's Envy's doing–the customer we got in the next room. I couldn't suss it out at first, until Isaac. He was touched with an awful Gluttony," Bobby explained.

"I don't give a rat's ass if they're the Three Stooges or the Four Tops! I'm gonna slaughter every last one of them!" Tamara snarled.

"We already did it your way. You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened!" Bobby said, his voice growing in volume and agitation. "These demons haven't been topside in half a millennium! We're talking medieval, Dark Ages! We've never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna take a breath... and figure out what our next move is!"

I'd never heard Bobby angry before and I was sure glad it wasn't aimed in my direction. I think all of us were pretty taken aback.

Bobby took a breath, seemingly to try and compose himself. "I am sorry for your loss." He backed away into the room where we had tied the demon up. Tamara reluctantly followed, leaving the three of us. We looked at one another, no one knowing what to say. Instead, we wordlessly wandered into the other room.

"So you know who I am, huh?" the demon asked with a sadistic grin.

"We do. We're not impressed," Bobby said.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked. "What are you after?"

"He asked you a question. What do you want?" Dean asked. When he didn't receive a response, he unscrewed the lid of the bottle of holy water and threw it in the demon's face. He only laughed.

I snatched the bottle out of Dean's hand, stalked behind the demon and tilted his head back. I poured the water straight into his mouth. There was no point in playing nicely.

"Ahh!" he screamed as smoke rose from his mouth. "Uhh... we already have... what we want."

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"We're out. We're free. Thanks to you, my kind are everywhere. I am legion, for we are many. So me, I'm just celebrating. Having a little fun."

Somehow that was worse. There was no plan. No reason. They were going to do whatever they wanted.

"Fun?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Fun. See, some people crochet. Others golf. Me? I like to see people's insides... on their outside."

Tamara strode up to him. "I'm gonna put you down like a dog."

"Please." He laughed. "You really think you're better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone, huh? What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard of gluttony and lust."

Well, he may have been a terrible, evil demon, but he wasn't wrong there. Not that I was siding with him or anything.

"Tamara. All that wrath. Oh." He tutted like he was scolding a child. "It's the reason you and Isaac became hunters in the first place, isn't it? It's so much easier to drink in the rage than to face what really happened all those years ago."

She'd had enough. She punched him. Once. Twice. Dean and Bobby pulled her back.

"Aah! Whew! My point exactly!" He was loving this, creating all this hatred and revulsion. "And you call us sins. We're not sins, man. We are natural human instinct. And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals. Horny... greedy... hungry... violent animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals, too. The others? They're coming for me."

Well his little speech certainly packed a punch. But that's all they were—just words. Right then, we had the power, not him.

"Maybe," Dean said as he got down into the demon's face. "But they're not gonna find you… 'cause you'll be in hell. Someone send this clown packing." With that, he left the room.

"My pleasure," Tamara said, taking the exorcism book from Bobby.

Bobby and Sam left too. Me? I wanted to stick around.

While Tamara was finding the right page, the demon turned his attention to me. Instantly, I felt my skin crawl. I wanted to break eye contact with him, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Speaking of wrath," he said. "I can see it in your eyes, you know."

I chuckled, folding my arms across my chest. "What? My glowing hatred for demons? How on earth did you figure that one out, Einstein?"

He smiled and seemed to look right through me into my very soul. "Your mommy wasn't there to rock you to sleep was she?"

My body went rigid. What the hell's he going on about?

He kept going. "How did it feel to be thrown out like yesterday's trash?"

How did he…? No. He didn't know me. Didn't know my past. He was just making a lucky guess. I tried not to let him see the disturbance I felt, tried not to let it show on my face. But judging by his growing grin, I'd failed.

Thankfully Tamara began the exorcism before he could open his mouth again. He began to panic, tried frantically to escape the bonds that held him to the chair. I'd be lying if I'd said his guttural screams didn't give me a certain level of joy. In fact, I think Tamara was reading slower than normal to prolong his suffering. Couldn't blame her. Yet the inevitable happened. When Tamara got to the last of the verses, the demon threw his head black, emitting the dense black smoke from his mouth. When it was all gone, Walter's head slumped forward. I leaned over him to check his pulse. He was gone.

Tamara threw the book down and strode into the next room. "Demon's out of the guy."

"And the guy?" Sam asked.

"He didn't make it," she continued nonchalantly as she left.

I got that she was pissed. Hell, pissed was putting it mildly, but that was still an innocent man who'd lost his life. We, us hunters, had to feel empathy for that. Otherwise we weren't any better than the monsters.

"So we're all agreed that the others are coming, right? Do we have a plan?" I asked. The boys had been in here discussing something during the exorcism.

"Well we're kind of limited in moves here," Bobby said.

"We can't kill 'em, so we exorcise 'em," Sam suggested.

"That means we trap 'em," Dean said. "Spray devil's traps where we can. Pour out holy water where we can. We split up and send 'em packing."

I sighed. "Sounds a good a plan as any." I turned to face Dean. "Just make sure you stick to it."

I left. I had nothing more to say to him. His attitude had done a complete one eighty tonight and I wasn't in the mood to deal with whatever bullshit was going on with him.

I went outside and grabbed some spray paint and weapons from my truck. Once back inside, I began painting devil's traps in places we could only hope they wouldn't look: ceilings and under dirty, rotting rugs. I was in the middle of painting my third one on an upstairs bedroom floor when Sam approached.

"Hey. You doin' all right?" he asked, hands in pockets, sheepish as all get out.

"You know me, Sammy. I'm as peachy as a peach pie. Your brother on the other hand…"

"Yeah," he agreed. "He's been… It's been a weird week."

I don't know what had happened between the night of the devil's gate opening and meeting up with Bobby and the boys. I didn't even know if Sam knew he'd been brought back from the dead. I wasn't about to ask him, either. But things were strange. I hadn't missed the silent but meaningful looks passing between the brothers. I sure as shit hadn't missed Dean's overly friendly mood flip into one of idiocy and self-destruction. Yet I figured it was none of my business anyway. They'd figure it out between them. Eventually.

Just then, a radio started playing. 'I shall not be moved' started echoing through the house. Looked like the demons had a sense of humour.

"Show time," I said as I quickly finished preparing the trap. Sam headed to a room at the front with Dean, and I headed downstairs to the back of the house.

I peered out of the wooden slats that the windows had been boarded with. Outside was eerily quiet, there didn't even seem to be a breeze moving in the trees. It was so still.

"Tamara! Tamara! Tamara! Tamara! Help me! Please!" Isaac's cry sounded from somewhere. Shit. One of the demons must have possessed his body. That was sick and twisted.

"Baby! Why won't you let me in?" he continued begging as he banged on the door. "You left me behind back there. How could you do that? We swore. At that lake in Michigan. Remember? We swore we would never leave each other!"

All Tamara had to do was to keep that door shut. She was stationed at the front near Bobby. We'd salted all the doors and windows so they couldn't get in. She just had to try and ignore what she was hearing.

Isaac's voice had lowered, so I couldn't hear the rest of what he was saying.

All of a sudden, I heard Tamara yell. "You son of a bitch!"

I ran towards the front of the house. The door was wide open and Tamara was tumbling down the stairs with the demon-possessed Isaac. A split second later the others flooded in. Most of them darted for the stairs, one spotted Bobby and headed his way.

And the last one? His eyes lasered onto me as he stalked towards me.

"You come to party?" I asked.

"Well aren't you just an interesting mix of sin," he said, looking me up and down. "No surprise given the stock you've come from." My stock? What was I cattle?

He continued on, "The eyes give it away." He smiled. What was it with these demons and their weird obsession with my eyes?

I held up my hand to stop him. "Wait… are you trying to flirt with me? I can't tell."

He snarled and lunged for me. I ran. I led him around the house, passing through the devil's traps, hoping he'd be dumb enough to walk into one. I wasn't that lucky, and he wasn't that dumb. I got round to the stairs. As I climbed, he grabbed hold of one of my legs and tripped me. Unfortunately, my chin broke the fall. Damn that's gonna leave a bruise. Before he could drag me down the stairs, I lashed out with my leg, kicking him square in the chest. He stumbled back and fell, so I continued up, knowing he'd follow me. I headed for the room I had been in with Sam and stopped just passed the doorway.

The demon was only a couple of seconds behind me. He looked around, "Nowhere else to run now, little hunter."

I backed up, further and further into the room, until…

The demon stopped dead in his tracks, a look of disbelief on his face.

I moved the corner of the rug he was standing on to show him the edge of the devil's trap.

"Damn, that sucks," I said and gave him one of my own smiles in return.

He snarled at me. Poor little guy couldn't do much else.

I held up a finger as I headed out the room. "Hey, don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

I had to check on the others. Hopefully they'd gotten as lucky as I had. A bruised chin was nothing compared to what could have happened… and what still could happen.

I was running past one of the rooms, looking frantically for any one of them, when I stopped in my tracks, doing a double take. Yep. I wasn't wrong. That was Dean making out with a demon. Did that man seriously have no standards?!

"Really, Dean?" I said.

He ripped his mouth from hers. "Hey, she started it!" He pulled back the shower curtain behind him and threw her head down into the bathtub filled with holy water. I rushed forward to help hold her down. After a few seconds, he pulled her head back up. We wanted the demon out but we couldn't risk drowning the girl. When it was clear the demon was staying put, we shoved her head back under.

"You really will make out with anything, won't you?" I said.

"Well I made out with you, so yeah I guess so!"

"Asshole!"

"Bi—"

"Don't even think about finishing that word!"

We pulled her up again and the black smoke billowed from her mouth. Her body collapsed to the floor and Dean checked her pulse.

"She alright?" I asked.

"She's alive. She'll be fine. Come on, let's find the others."

We ran out into the hall only to nearly run into a dumbstruck Sam.

"Sam, you good?" Dean asked.

I peered into the room behind him. There were three demons on the floor. Dead. And not from an exorcism. They were bleeding. "What? How did you…" I asked.

Sam shook his head. "I didn't. There was a woman."

"A woman?" Dean asked with suspicion.

"Yeah, she—she just came in. She had this knife. She killed them and left."

Now we were all dumbstruck.

"She didn't say anything?" I asked.

"She said that she'd see me around. She knew my name."

Well… ok then.

When daylight broke, we started digging. Bobby volunteered to exorcise the remaining demons while we prepared to salt and burn the ones that had been killed by Sam's mystery woman. Sam and Dean laid the final one in the grave as a worn-out Bobby approached.

"Think she's gonna be all right?" Sam said, nodding across the field.

Tamara hadn't said much. I'd asked her if she needed help prepping Isaac's body for the hunter's funeral. She swiftly declined. I probably wasn't the one who should have asked, seeing as I hadn't exactly been nice to the guy. But I had to offer anyway. Now she stood by his funeral pyre, alone, the flames burning bright.

"No. Definitely not," Dean said.

When Bobby reached us, Dean turned to him. "Well, you look like Hell warmed over."

"You try exorcising all night and see how you feel," he said rubbing his hand over his face.

"Any survivors, Bobby?" Sam asked.

"The others will make it. Lifetime of therapy bills ahead, but, still..."

Dean tilted his head to the grave in front of us. "That's more than you can say for these poor bastards."

"Bobby, that knife–what kind of blade can kill a demon?" Sam asked.

He shook his head. "Yesterday, I would have said there was no such thing."

"I'm just gonna ask it again," Dean began. "Who was that masked chick? Actually, the more troubling question would be, how come a girl can fight better than you?" he said to Sam.

Did he actually just say that?

"Three demons, Dean. At once," Sam replied.

"Hey, whatever it takes to get you through the night, pal." He slapped Sam on the arm before catching my eye. He took one look at my face and said, "Oh boy…" He pinched the skin between his eyes.

Yeah, he was in for it now.

"How come a girl can fight better than you?" I said. "Do I need to remind you how many times I've handed you your own ass? Or do we need another demonstration?"

"Pfft. You have not handed me my own ass. I was just going easy on you."

I swept one of my legs behind his and pushed on his chest.

"Hey!" he shouted as he tumbled, once again landing on his ass.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I said.

He muttered under his breath as he got up, dusting himself down with a frown on his face.

"Yeah, well, if you want a troubling question, I got one for you," Sam said.

"What's that?" Dean asked, still huffing.

"If we let out the seven deadly sins, what else did we let out?"

We all lingered on the question. The possibilities now seemed endless, and more dark and scary than we would have originally thought. We were in for a lot of fun. Or most likely death, but I could be optimistic when I wanted to be.

"You're right. That is troubling." Dean lit a match and threw it into the grave, instantly igniting the fuel we'd poured in.

Once the flames had settled, we filled in the grave. There was nothing more for us to do there, so we started to gather our things and head for our vehicles.

"See you guys around," Tamara said as she passed us.

"Tamara? The world just got a lot scarier. Be careful," Bobby said.

She smiled, but there was no joy in it. "You too." She got into her car and drove away. I hoped she'd be ok. I really did.

"Keep your eyes peeled for omens," Bobby said. "I'll do the same."

"You got it," Dean said.

"Wait, Bobby," Sam called. "We can win this war. Right?"

His dead silence wasn't exactly comforting.

"Catch you on the next one," he said as he headed to his car.

Translation: we're screwed. Fantastic.

"Guess we better head off too. See you around?" Sam said.

I smiled. "Can't seem to avoid it."

Sam smiled back. "Stay safe." He pulled me in for a hug. My eyes widened as I automatically hugged him back. I hadn't realised we were fully at the hugging stage of our… acquaintanceship? Friendship? I mean, I was pretty sure we'd hugged before but that was usually when the other was in mortal danger. Still, a hug from the towering sasquatch that was Sam Winchester, was pretty cosy.

When Sam pulled back, he shot me a final smile and got into the Impala.

"You… err… you were right." Dean said.

I turned to him, not sure I'd heard him correctly. "What was that?"

He cleared his throat and spoke only a fraction louder than he had before. "You were right."

I cupped a hand by my ear. "One more time."

He scoffed and batted my hand down.

I chuckled but asked, "Right about what?"

He sighed. "It was a dick move I pulled last night back at the bar. I'm not saying I was completely wrong for doing it, but I should have talked with you guys first."

Dean Winchester apologising was about as rare as an upside-down rainbow.

"Huh, look at you, being all grown up." I pinched his cheek.

He grabbed hold of my wrist, gently pulling it away. "Don't push it."

I was gonna push it as far as I could. I had to soak in the moment of him apologising—I didn't know when I'd get another chance.

"You know, my offer still stands," Dean said, letting go of me. "You could hit the road with us."

"And…" I knew that wasn't what he really wanted to get at.

He tried and failed to smother his grin. "And maybe we have a little fun on the way."

There it was. Couldn't say the boy wasn't determined though.

"Dean? You're in desperate need of mouth wash. I'm not going anywhere near you with those demon infested lips of yours."

He looked like he wanted to argue the point for a moment, then brushed it aside and puffed his chest out like a damn peacock.

"What can I say? Even demons can't resist me."

I wasn't sure that was something to be proud of. "Demons… desperate for action since the dawn of time."

"You slept with me, multiples times might I add, so what does that say about you?"

That was… I wasn't… I just… I mean… shit. "Shut up." God, could I have given a weaker comeback?!

Obviously not given the joy that filled Dean's face. "Did I just win one? Did I make the fearsome Raelynn mute? Huh. The times are changing, Princess." He walked over to the Impala, a fist raised in the air in victory.

Well now I definitely had to meet up with them again. I couldn't let him have one over on me. Besides, we'd no doubt be fighting the next big bad before we could get a wink of sleep. Oh well.

Bring on the demons.

And bring on Dean Winchester.