Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Hi, everyone! I just wanted to give you a little idea of what you're getting yourselves into with this Supernatural fanfiction.

First, this story is part of a planned trilogy:

Book One: The Prophecy – complete (just over 90,000 words)

Book Two: Revelation – final edits pending (currently just over 52,000 words)

Book Three: The Final Battle – outlined and ready to be written

Second, while this fanfiction draws heavily from the lore established by Eric Kripke, I’ve made a few intentional tweaks to tell the story I wanted to tell. The deeper you go, the more those changes will become apparent.

Third, I’ve done my best to stay true to the established characters.

Fourth, major plot developments will be explained—just give it time. For example, Analina’s abilities aren’t random; they have a purpose. All three books are interconnected and meant to be read in order.

Fifth, each chapter includes a content rating. If you're reading Supernatural fanfiction, you probably have a sense of what to expect. That said, I don’t write graphic/gory scenes, and there are no sex scenes in this story. It does consistently feature dangerous themes and strong language. You’ve been warned.

Sixth, I hope you enjoy the story. I started writing this over ten years ago and have never written anything this long before. If you’d like early access to future chapters, feel free to visit my website (link in my bio). It’s free, ad-free, and includes AI-generated images for each chapter.

Finally, since AO3 doesn’t allow scheduled posts (sigh), I’ll aim to update on the 1st, 7th, 15th, and 23rd of each month. Life happens, so please allow a 24-hour window around those dates. But rest assured—you’ll get the full story.

Happy reading, and thank you for joining me on this journey.

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Journals mean different things to different people. Some use them to record secrets, like teenagers hiding crushes or confessions. Others track daily events to reminisce later or monitor their health. Each one is unique.

This journal was different. I’d never been the type to keep one. I’d always thought it’d be interesting to revisit certain memories—though not embarrassing ones, like the time a pair of underwear fell out of my pant leg in a department store. I craved better, more exciting moments. But my milestones, like graduating college, seemed dull compared to others’. Nothing noteworthy had happened in my life—at least, not until the early summer of 2010.

My encounters with angels and demons began years before I met Sam and Dean Winchester, even before I was born. Those experiences shaped what my life would become. They were thrilling enough to fill a journal, but most incidents from my childhood didn’t center on me. It didn’t feel right to claim them as my story.

Before I recount the tales I should’ve written years ago, I need to share some notes for those unfamiliar with angels and demons. Let’s start with demons.

To understand demons, know this: most people recognize demonic possession from movies, which often embellish real encounters. Demons don’t always need a human body to interact with humans. In their simplest form, they appear as black smoke to the human eye, but they often possess a human body.

Demonic possession has three stages: infestation, oppression, and possession. Infestation occurs when a demon is invited into someone’s life, intentionally or not. Playing with a Ouija board can open that door. Those dabbling in dark arts might knowingly invite a demon into their home. Does playing with a Ouija board as a kid guarantee possession? No, but I wouldn’t recommend it—not after what I’ve seen.

Oppression is when a demon latches onto a person, draining them until possession becomes possible. Victims may experience blackouts or hear voices but retain control most of the time. Possession, like in The Exorcist, strips that control entirely.

My earliest encounter, the one that sparked my own experiences, began before I was born. At first glance, it seemed to involve my dad, Bill. Now, I know that wasn’t entirely true.

WHEN MY DAD WAS A TEENAGER

When my dad was a teenager, he bought a witchcraft book. Raised Catholic, he likely didn’t put much faith in it. He was probably just a curious teen having fun. He was wrong.

The only son of three children, Dad lived in a small house. The second floor had two bedrooms—one shared by his sisters, another for his parents. The attic, converted into a third bedroom for him, included a small storage area at the rear. Dad performed his spells there.

The book’s first chapter covered astral projection. After following the meditation instructions, Dad claimed he hovered over his body while lying in bed. Intrigued, he tried a chapter called “Little Helper.” Unsure what it entailed, he proceeded anyway.

After completing the spell, nothing happened—or so he thought. As he lay in bed, he felt watched, though he saw nothing. Then, a soft pressure trailed along the bed, like a finger. He still saw nothing and slept fitfully.

The disturbances worsened. He heard footsteps circling his room, pausing as if staring at him before continuing. The next night, the presence ventured downstairs to the second floor and back, always stopping to watch him.

At breakfast, his parents scolded him: “Stay upstairs or down!” He couldn’t explain it wasn’t him—they wouldn’t believe him. Distressed, he found temporary relief at a friend’s house but eventually had to return.

One night, pulling into the driveway, he glanced at the attic’s storage area window. Red eyes gleamed back, set in the outline of a pig’s body. The “Little Helper” was a red-eyed pig. Terrified, he gave the book away. The incidents subsided.

What became of the “Little Helper”? It lingered. Years later, after Dad moved out and I was born, my aunt and uncle stayed at my grandmother’s while their house was painted. My aunt had just had my cousin, and my uncle, catching a cold, slept in the attic to avoid getting the baby sick. Unaware of Dad’s past, he woke frazzled, complaining something touched him in his sleep. Only then did Dad share the “Little Helper” story.

That spell opened a door to the paranormal in Dad’s life. He didn’t grasp the consequences until years later. He married my mom, Marian, in 1981. I arrived two years later. As the economy recovered, Dad worked as an assistant manager at a local drugstore, sparking the next chapter of his—and my—life.

AN ODD CUSTOMER

One night at the store, Dad met an odd customer, an older woman who took an interest in him while he rang up her purchases.

Dad wore a nametag, so her using his name didn’t faze him. But her next words chilled him.

“You’re married, aren’t you? And you have a daughter,” she said. “Mary and Ann.”

Mom’s name was Marian, a form of Mary. Mine was Analina, a form of Ann. It was close enough to unsettle him.

“Two Geminis and a Libra,” she continued, unfazed by his shock. “A powerful combination, Mr. Seth. I work for someone important, someone interested in you. Go home tonight, look in your dining room dictionary. He’s in there. I call him Old Nick.”

How did she know so much? How many people kept a dictionary in their dining room? That night, Dad looked up “Old Nick.” It meant Satan.

Unsure what to make of it, he dismissed her as a strange customer. She never returned. But things soon worsened. The witchcraft book had opened the door to infestation years ago. Dad never consented to possession, so the demon began oppressing him.

THE EXORCISM

I was a few months old when things turned grim. Later research revealed similarities to other accounts. Our house reeked of sewage without cause. Electronics flickered on and off. Noises, doors opening and closing, were frequent. Picture frames shattered untouched. Once, Dad saw the demon as black smoke, terrifying the cat.

Dad bore the brunt, as he was the demon’s prime target. He suffered scratches from the inside out, blackouts, and demonic rape. He nicknamed it “The Closet Monster,” as it lingered in the closet by his bed. It urged him to kill us, our family, and friends—even to roast me in the oven or push me down the stairs in my walker.

Out of nowhere, a priest from Ohio called, offering help. We lived in Pennsylvania. Initially, Dad ignored him, uncertain. After a brutal attack in the kitchen—scratched repeatedly as cabinet doors slammed like in a horror movie—he listened. The priest diagnosed a demonic attack and proposed an exorcism, pending psychological tests. Dad passed, and the exorcism was set at the priest’s Ohio parish. Mom and I, unaware of the severity, thought we were taking a “vacation” to Ohio.

The night before the exorcism, while Mom bathed me in the hotel, Dad pounded on the door, demanding entry. Mom refused, thinking he’d lost it. The outburst stopped abruptly. That night, the demon, in a final attempt, urged Dad to murder us. Then, inexplicably, fire alarms blared across all three hotel buildings, forcing an evacuation. No cause was found, but it likely saved our lives.

The next day, while Mom and I swam at the hotel, Dad drove to a rural church for the exorcism. The priests expelled the demon, named Chaos, from him. Afterward, Dad asked why he was targeted. The priest called him a pawn and warned against dabbling in spirits or spells. He also urged us to bless our house.

Multiple house blessings followed before the activity ceased.

SPIRITS

During one of the final blessings, I vaguely recall the local priest pausing on the stairs to the second floor. “I’ll stop here,” he said, blessing the rooms from below. Dad later revealed something growled at the priest near the top of the stairs. I didn’t hear it, but the priest did.

At a young age, I learned to block the supernatural. It came naturally. Our house felt cold and dank, but my room was a warm, safe bubble. I didn’t understand why the demon targeted me until meeting Sam and Dean. I was just a little girl—why would a demon care? We assumed it was to dominate Dad. We were wrong.

As I grew older, I felt more things. Going to different houses, I could sometimes feel something. Never anything evil or demonic. Just a presence that hovered around. I eventually learned that these were spirits. I didn’t bother them, and they didn’t bother me. Out of curiosity, I tried to help one spirit cross over. I composed a safety bubble in my mind and projected it out so the spirit felt safe. Then, I mentally told it to move on. I believed it worked because I couldn’t feel it anymore. The coldness that surrounded the spirit no longer lingered.

After my dad’s experience with the demon, our family went back to church. I wouldn’t say we were a perfect Catholic family, but we were practicing Catholics. In my teenage years, I began to feel something different around me. Something warm and calm. It was an angel. Distinguishing between these entities was instinctive. Being Catholic, I understood the importance of free will; even angels had to respect that with humans. Therefore, I gave my permission for my guardian angel to keep me safe from anything evil. It was easier to ignore any other entities that I came across. Nothing ever bothered me.

My Guardian Angel

It was a few years after I started to regularly talk and work with my guardian angel that I discovered his name. It felt odd for me to just call him “my guardian angel,” so I named him something myself. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I assumed my guardian angel was male—if angels had genders. I wasn’t sure at the time if they did. James was a name that stuck out to me when I was thinking of what I wanted to call him, but I never really knew his name.

One night after dinner, my mom had us discover our guardian angel names from what she learned at church that day. She instructed, “What you are supposed to do is take the bible and say the Guardian Angel Prayer, randomly open the book, and the first name you see is your angel.”

I was a little taken aback because Catholics are usually against this sort of thing. Asking for angel names might open oneself up for a demonic attack if the person did not know what he was doing. A demon could pose as an angel, and then that person would be in trouble. Quite honestly, I didn’t think this would happen, let alone mean anything, but I figured it was fun to try. My mom got Timothy, and my dad got Moses. I did mine and got Jacob. Not exactly James.

The next day, I was reading a mystery book, and the character received a note from a man named Jacob—someone the character didn’t know. One thing led to another, and the character figured out that Jacob was the Latin form of James—the person she knew. Conclusion: I really did call him by his name, or at least a form of it. A little trick on his part, but I thought it made it more special than if I outright saw James first.

For angels, I never saw them. I only had tangible experiences with James. I could feel his presence whenever he was really close. He felt warm and peaceful. I mostly talked to him about things. Once in a while, I could “hear” him respond. It wasn’t a voice; it was a feeling. A very strong innate feeling. It was my understanding that angels couldn’t be seen by humans, at least in their true forms. It was also my understanding that they had free will of their own and must respect our free will, which could conflict with helping us.

Conclusion of My Intro

That pretty much summarized my prior experiences with the supernatural. I must confess that I never told anyone how I could sense things. I didn’t want them to think I was crazy. Eventually, I became better at blocking things out completely, except for James. If I thought I felt something, I would imagine putting up this barrier, and I couldn’t feel whatever it was anymore. I hadn’t really thought about those stories for years. Until I met Sam and Dean Winchester.

Sam and Dean’s Backstory

I have not grown up with their stories, but I have learned about them throughout the course of our relationships. Their beginnings are similar, and deep down, I think that no matter what happened, we were meant to meet.

Sam and Dean Winchester are two names that appear very often in this journal. For one thing, most of everything that has happened to me recently is directly involved with them. Their story also stems back farther than just them. It also starts with their parents.

First of all, the Campbell family—Sam and Dean’s mother’s side of the family—were hunters. [Hunters: people who go after evil things such as vengeful spirits and monsters to make the world a safer place.] Their mother, Mary, didn’t want that life anymore. She eventually met John Winchester—who later became Sam and Dean’s father. Before they could start their lives together, something bad happened, and Mary made a deal with a demon to save John. The specifics of the deal were unknown at the time, but the demon wanted something from her in the future.

Fast forward. John and Mary married and had Dean on January 24, 1979. Four years later, Sam was born on May 2nd. Exactly six months after Sam was born, the demon decided to "collect" his part of the bargain. Sam was to be used as part of the demon’s plan. When Mary walked into the nursery, the demon caught her. The demon telekinetically pulled her up to the ceiling and killed her by causing a fire. John and the boys barely made it out alive. From that point on, John became a hunter and brought Dean and Sam up as such, too.

Their father died not too long ago after a car accident—demon related. He traded his life with the same demon that killed his wife so that Dean could live. Dean had been brutally hurt prior to and during the car accident. Sam and Dean continued on and found out more about the demon’s plans. Azazel, the yellow-eyed demon as they called him, wanted a special person to open the gates of hell, which weirdly enough was located in Wyoming. Amidst a selection of children, the demon had dropped his blood in their mouths, priming them for later. This happened to Sam, who later became addicted to demon blood. Sam was killed as his generation was gathered together to find out who was the strongest and most worthy for the demon’s task. Dean, following in the footsteps of his father, traded his soul to a crossroads demon to save Sam’s life. In exchange, Dean was given one year to live.

With one year up and a new problem occurring, Dean was sent to hell—with the aid of hellhounds. Sam was left to deal with the rise of a new powerful demon, Lilith. Lilith's goal was to break the 66 seals to open Lucifer’s cage—which would start the apocalypse. With a demon friend, Ruby, Sam continued to hunt and kill demons by drinking demon blood. Drinking demon blood allowed Sam to exorcise demons with his mind. However, the blood became addictive.

Through the help of an angel named Castiel—who goes by Cas, Dean was pulled from hell and brought back. Finding Sam, they picked up where they left off and tried to find a way to stop Lilith. Their past got in their way: Dean found out about the demon blood and did not trust Ruby; Sam trusted Ruby, but he also became addicted to the demon blood; Dean was trying to get over Hell. Being tortured and eventually breaking down and torturing souls himself, set their relationship on edge. Because he started to torture souls in Hell, he broke the first seal that could set Lucifer free. Lilith continued breaking the seals as the brothers tried to stop her.

The angel, Cas, became an integral part of their party. However, Cas brought problems of his own. The angels in Heaven were starting to lose control. They couldn’t find God, and most angels wanted the apocalypse to start so that everything could end. Things would be peaceful, but at a high price to the human population. Sam ended up killing Lilith, unaware that she was the 66th seal. Hence, Lucifer emerged from Hell, and the apocalypse started.

Soon afterward, Sam and Dean found out something—the real reason why the demons and the angels took a special interest in them. They were the vessels for Lucifer and Michael. The apocalypse would end when Michael and Lucifer fought using their vessels. The only problem was that they couldn’t take the vessels without consent. So far, Sam and Dean had declined. It wasn’t too long after the final seal was broken that I first met them.

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Early Summer 2010

For most of my life, I considered myself normal. Until the summer of 2010, I worked as a bank customer service representative at a local university campus branch. I was close to my parents and had a few friends. I was, in fact, a quiet person. I didn't like confrontations. I never sought out adventure, unless it was in a book or movie. My social life was boring to most people, but I never minded it. I was content, enjoying time alone. Meeting the Winchesters changed everything.

Breaking my routine, I decided to take my lunch outside. The day was warm and bright. Being fair-skinned with red hair, I tried to avoid sitting in direct sunlight. Thankfully, it was the start of the summer term, and most students were gone, leaving more tables available across from my workplace. These tables had umbrellas, unlike others on the large campus. Looking back, it feels like I was meant to be there at that moment.

In the shade, I removed my gray blazer and sunglasses, sat down, ate, and started reading a book. The book didn’t hold my attention—it wasn’t poorly written but needed more dialogue. My mind wandered to two men at the next table, eating lunch and discussing what I thought was a mental hospital case. The university was next to a hospital with a psych ward two blocks away, which worked with medical and nursing students.

I didn’t look at them but listened closely. They talked about a girl in the psych ward, mentioning blackouts and strange behavior. Then their conversation turned odd, referencing sulfur and EMF readings at her house. It sounded like they were planning an exorcism, though they didn’t use that word.

Without realizing it, I must have turned toward them and was openly gawking. They were absorbed in their discussion and didn’t notice me until they decided to visit the psych ward after lunch. When they looked around, our eyes met—their green eyes locking with mine. A flush of warmth spread over me when we made eye contact. My heart sputtered at the sudden panic of being caught.

Strangely, I didn’t shy away as usual. Leaving my things, I approached their table, boldly mentioned “the case,” and used the word “exorcism.” I didn’t explain how I knew about such things—not yet. Dean first asked if I was a hunter, a term I didn’t know then as I do now. The conversation was cut short when Castiel—Cas, as Sam and Dean called him—appeared out of nowhere.

The brothers seemed uneasy, unsure what I’d seen. The first thing Cas said was, “Good, you found her.”

Looking down at the table, they thought he was talking about the case they were working on, but as it turns out, he meant me. He then stated that we needed to move because it “wasn’t safe” there. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. They stood, and I started to doubt myself for talking to them. Maybe these gigantically tall guys really were crazy. Doubting myself, I hesitated, but Cas pulled me to my feet. The ground seemed to vanish, and I stumbled, nearly colliding with Dean. I sidestepped enough not to knock him over. Dean caught hold of my arms and steadied me.

“A little warning next time, Cas,” he said with a hint of irritability.

I didn’t quite understand what he meant at first until I looked around. We were no longer near my building. Instead, we stood by an old black car on the other side of town.

The Impala and First Impressions

The “old black car” was a 1967 Chevy Impala, one of Dean’s obsessions. It actually belonged to his father, and he had kept it ever since. He rebuilt it a few times—once after the accident that ended up killing his father.

Our first meeting was confusing, at least for me. We ended up with more questions than answers. Cas took care of the possession case at the psych ward in a matter of a few seconds after we left. I learned he was an angel, unlike any I’d encountered. My only angelic experience was with my own angel, James, but they were vastly different.

Cas grew on you. Having little human contact before Sam and Dean, he often missed social norms. I first learned he was an angel after he transported us to their car that day we met.

Dean introduced us by the car. “This is Cas.”

“Cas?” I asked.

“It’s short for Castiel.”

I nodded with uncertainty at the strange name. I had heard weirder names. Working with customers, I came across a lot of funny names and spellings.

“He’s an angel,” Dean added.

I looked Cas over. He was wearing a suit underneath a long beige trench coat. He had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes.

“An angel that wears a trench coat…” I must have muttered aloud.

Cas pulled on his coat. “It belongs to my vessel.”

“Vessel? You need a vessel?” That explained why I could see him, unlike James, whom I only sensed.

“It’s the only way I can communicate with them,” he nodded his head toward Sam and Dean.

There was an awkward pause. Realizing that we weren’t exactly far from harm’s way (which ended up being some demons), Cas decided to try to speed things up. I was hesitant to get in the car with them.

“We don’t have time for this,” he said to no one in particular. He took a step closer to me and put two fingers on my forehead. I just stared at him. He removed his fingers, looked at them, and tried again. “I don’t understand.”

“Was something supposed to happen?” I asked, fighting the urge to step back.

“It should have put you to sleep,” Sam answered, cocking his head to the side. Sam was the slightly taller brother, with shaggy brown hair. Dean was a few inches shorter, and his brown hair was closely cropped.

“Oh,” I murmured, and looked back at Cas, who was still studying me. Apparently, I was able to block him from his sleeping power.

With demons approaching, I didn’t understand my role but knew demons were dangerous. I worried about leaving—where would we go? When would I return? What about my job? Reluctantly, I got in the car, leaving everything behind. No one knew where I’d gone. My purse, blazer, sunglasses, and book remained on the table. People likely thought I’d been kidnapped, which wasn’t far from the truth.

The Note Home

Cas kind of helped me with this. I had to at least let my parents know I was okay. I didn’t think everyone needed to know the whole truth. Later, at a motel, I gave Cas a list of items to pick up from home if I was going to be stuck with these guys for a while. I also gave him a handwritten note to give to my parents. I didn’t have my cell phone, and I wasn’t actually sure if they would believe me if I called. I thought that if Cas, an angel, appeared to them and handed them this note, it might work out a little better. My parents believed in angels, I reasoned.

When Cas came back, he surprisingly brought back all items on my list—which might be due to the extra descriptions and location guide I provided. He neglected to bring my contacts and prescription. However, he touched my head, and warmth spread through me. My vision cleared, my hormonal imbalance stabilized, and he cured an unknown cancer cell. Stunned, I mumbled, “Thanks.” We learned he could heal and transport me but not knock me out.

He gave the note to my parents. It was probably the hardest note I ever wrote. I had no idea when I would be back. Cas was not one for much emotion or detail. From what I gathered from him, my parents were completely shocked but eventually took the note “well.” I mentioned in the note that I would call as soon as I got my own cell phone—which Dean said he would take care of once we were far enough away from the demons. I didn’t even want to think about that phone

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Chapter 2: Demons

Summer 2010 – Western Indiana

I was no longer kidnapped; instead, I was thrown into something much bigger: the apocalypse. I had no idea how I would play a part in that. All that Cas could provide—because he seemed like the person with the most information on this—was that something had leaked out through the angel and demon networks in his search to find God. I, apparently, was an unknown piece to this puzzle. Not a vessel like Sam or Dean. I was human, obviously, so they weren’t quite sure how exactly I would add to the fight. All that circulated was that I would be a factoring piece that would determine the outcome, depending on whatever side I took.

As I summarized when I found out about the looming apocalypse: “So, I’m supposed to help you stop the apocalypse and help you find God?”

Yeah, that sounded real simple to me, too. But I was willing to help if I could.

It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing at first. I had never really spent the majority of my time with two men—strangers, technically. I felt a little nervous about that. Cas was always in and out, so I didn’t get to spend as much time with him. Because I was such a “high-risk” case, I had to share a motel room with them.

Our first night, they had an argument over sleeping arrangements since there were only two queen beds in the room. Apparently, they didn’t like the idea of sleeping in the same bed, and I was uncomfortable sharing one myself. Soon, they started to argue who would get the one bed while the other person slept on the loveseat. These guys were over six feet tall. I was a midget at 5’4” compared to them, and actually, most people. I hardly even reached their shoulders.

Dean, who was a few inches shorter than his younger brother at 6’1”, wouldn’t even fit on that couch very comfortably. I ended the argument by saying I would sleep on the couch if one forked over a pillow and the other forked over a blanket.

Unfortunately, that first night with them at the motel had more pressing issues than sleeping arrangements.

The Demon Encounter

We were only a couple of hours away when we stopped and ate dinner on the road. We ended up picking a motel somewhere on the western side of Indiana. Getting settled, we talked about the whole apocalypse story and sleeping arrangements. Next, we tackled what we should do while we figured this whole prophecy thing out. Dean had just called his friend, Bobby, who lived in South Dakota, about stopping there. It was the safest place they could think about going. Dean also had him searching books for what this prophecy or this new piece of the apocalypse could mean.

In the middle of our conversation, I got a cold, heavy feeling. It was a very subtle sensation, but I definitely noticed something was coming. I felt my body tense. It was coming closer to the door, and I glanced that way.

Dean, noticing my distraction, asked me what was going on. I only had time to say that I thought something might be coming when the door flew open, and a large man walked inside. The man looked like a trucker with his faded jeans, T-shirt, and hat, but something wasn't quite right about him. I swore for a moment his eyes flashed black.

Sam and Dean dove into action before I could even blink. Unfortunately, the man was ready for them. With a wave of his hand, they were thrown against opposite sides of the walls.

“Well, look what I have here,” the man jeered.

Sam and Dean remained pinned against the wall. I wasn’t stuck, but I wasn’t sure what I could do to help. This was a demon—or rather, a person possessed by one.

“I came for the girl and found the Winchesters. What a nice bonus!” He looked between the two of them. I backed up away from him. I couldn’t leave. He blocked the only exit. Plus, I just couldn’t leave Sam and Dean there.

I had never met a demon before—not like this. The demon that oppressed my dad never showed itself to me. Not to mention, I was quite young. I never even knew what happened until a few years after it was over.

Satisfied that the boys weren’t going anywhere fast, the demon turned his attention back to me. I hated to admit it, but I actually flinched when he looked at me.

“And what makes you so special?” he asked and cocked his head to the side.

I didn’t answer. I felt my heart beating so fast it was making me dizzy. Taking another step back, I tried to focus on breathing slower so at least I wouldn’t pass out. I didn’t know any exorcisms off by heart, and I don’t think he would have let me get very far with it anyway.

I needed help. I glanced over. From my angle, I could only see Dean. He was desperately trying to come free from the wall.

The demon was just inches from me, taking his time on purpose. I felt his negative energy rolling off of him in small waves. A sewage and sulfur-like odor slowly seeped into my nose. My stomach turned just being this close to him. He reached out his hand towards me.

“Don’t,” I heard myself say quietly but firmly.

He stopped for a moment and smiled. “Oh, and what are you going to do about it? Hmm?”

Good question, I thought. I couldn’t take him being this close to me. I pictured myself pushing the rotten energy far away from me.

He reached his hand out again to grab my arm. In a second, many things happened. I felt a pressure and saw the demon flying backward. Within that same moment, a blast of white light burst through the room, and Cas appeared. He quickly bent down and touched the demon’s forehead. The demon screamed, and black smoke escaped from the body. The man fell limp onto the floor. Once the demon was gone, Sam and Dean dropped from the walls.

I felt slightly shaky, but I wasn’t hurt. The air in the room was lighter, and I could finally take a deep breath.

“Thanks, Cas,” I said, finally looking him in the face.

“How did you do that?” he asked me.

“What?” I was confused.

“How did you repel that demon?” Cas questioned.

“Me?”

“Her?” Sam and Dean asked at the same time.

“Yes. I came as fast as I could, but he was thrown by the time I got here,” Cas replied.

They all looked at me like I knew what I did.

“I didn’t…” I shook my head.

“She can repel angels and demons?” Dean asked Cas.

“So it appears.” He took a step closer to me. “It seems to work when she feels threatened.”

I arched an eyebrow at that.

“Wait, Cas. How did you know to come? We didn’t call you,” Sam wondered.

“I heard—or rather—felt Analina ask for help.”

“You called Cas?” Dean asked, turning towards me.

“No, well, not specifically or intentionally,” I admitted.

I felt like a bug under a microscope. With all the things they had experienced, I still confused them. I was like a freak amongst the freaks.

“I’m beginning to see why she might be so important,” Cas commented.

“Repelling demons and resisting angels is probably a key asset.” Dean smiled at me.

I held back a snort at that remark.

Cas said, “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. More demons and possibly angels might be on their way here. They should be in the vicinity soon regardless.”

“Right,” Dean agreed and looked around to gather some items. Sam followed his lead.

Cas turned back to me. “I need to mark you so that you can’t be traced.”

“Mark me?”

“On your ribs. I marked Sam and Dean so the angels couldn’t find them, including myself. It will only hurt for a moment,” Cas clarified.

“Whoa! One sec, Cas,” Dean interrupted. “You couldn’t put her to sleep. How are you supposed to mark her?”

“I was able to heal her,” he reasoned. “May I try?”

“S-sure.” I stood there, unsure of how it would work. No sooner had I agreed than Cas flew across the room, banged against the dresser, and landed on the floor.

“I guess that wasn’t supposed to happen,” I said quietly, looking at Sam and then Dean.

Dean was smirking because he was right.

“It’s not funny, Dean,” Sam said.

“You’re right. It’s not,” he said, coming closer. “That just means we need to be more careful.”

Chapter Text

My first—and certainly not the last—encounter with a demon baffled all of us. In a way, I felt different since I met them. Before then, I was able to block weird feelings without much of a problem. I didn't have to think about it. Somehow that changed. It was like everything slowly intensified.

For instance, I started to feel when Cas was getting close. He had his own “energy.” I didn't know how to describe it. It was an angelic energy that I wasn’t used to, different from James'. Perhaps it was because of the vessel that he used? Or maybe it was because he was going against the other angels with the whole apocalypse plan?

It went without saying that we didn’t stay at the motel that night. We continued on, with Sam and Dean taking turns driving throughout the night. I slept in the backseat of the car, which wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it would be.

In the morning, Dean asked if I slept okay. I answered, “Yep, me and the little green guy in the ashtray slept very well. He also kept his hands on his gun, so no problems there.”

With a smile, Dean explained that Sam had jammed the little army toy in the ashtray when he was a kid, and they hadn’t been able to get it out. Now, it was part of the car. Even when Dean rebuilt the car, he left it in because it wouldn’t be his car anymore if it wasn’t there.

We stopped for doughnuts and arrived at Bobby’s not long after.

Meeting Bobby

Bobby knew Sam and Dean since they were little—eventually becoming a second father to them. After their real father died, he became more involved in their lives and with the apocalypse.

Bobby owned an auto repair shop—or at least that was the front for his life. He was a smart guy and came into hunting later in life, after his wife died from a demonic possession. This was before he knew about exorcisms. He had no idea what to do and ended up killing her. After that, he started to dedicate his life as a hunter. Eventually, he had become a walking dictionary on all things supernatural. He was a little uncouth but a nice guy.

We made it to Bobby’s late morning and pulled up to the house. Looking out the window, I could only think of the phrase, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Slightly stiff, I climbed out of the car.

“Here we are,” Dean said, slightly sarcastically.

We knocked on the door, and Bobby answered it. He was in his late forties or early fifties with slightly graying hair in his beard, and he wore a baseball cap, an old plaid shirt, a vest, and torn jeans.

“Well, come on in,” he said when he saw who it was. Sam and Dean walked in first, and I followed.

The house smelled slightly moldy and looked cluttered. My eyes scanned as politely as I could.

“So this is the girl?” Bobby asked. I was again scrutinized.

“Yep, this is Analina Seth. Analina, this is Bobby,” Sam introduced us with a wave of his hand.

Dean came back from the kitchen with a beer.

I started to put my hand out to shake his when water flew in my face. I sputtered and looked at Bobby, who was tightening a lid on his flask.

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I just had to check. These idjits don’t always have their heads together when a pretty girl is involved.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” I said, mopping my face with my hand.

“Want anything to drink?” he asked, turning his back to me to go to the kitchen.

“Water in a glass this time would be nice.” I smiled as he turned back around.

“Why am I always surrounded by smartasses?” he muttered and resumed his actions.

Settling In

Once settled, I got a quick tour of the house, which didn’t differ much from room to room. I learned that he built a panic room in the basement, and every possible lore book was scattered around the house. I had a feeling that he was organized in his disorganization.

I also found out that he covered for them on the phone lines when other hunters pretending to be FBI agents (or other such professions) needed confirmation of their credentials. I was a little uncomfortable with that, but it made sense once I thought about it. I figured they had to know what they were doing if they made it this long.

Besides the panic room, Bobby had different sigils and hexes to ward off evil entities. He also had a wide range of weaponry—guns, swords, knives, holy water, demon traps, hex bags, etc. I concluded this was a good reason why I was taken here until we figured things out.

Cas stopped by that evening. He didn’t find anything new out, but everyone was in a flurry of action trying to understand where and what this prophecy was. In some way, it made me tickled pink to know how much I baffled people—including myself. The other part of me was scared senseless at what it could all mean.

After spending a day or two at Bobby’s, we were still no closer to finding out my role in this apocalypse thing. My weird abilities of repelling angels and demons weren’t easily explained either.

Testing the Limits

Cas suggested that he should see what I could repel from angels—which might come in handy if I ever came across one of the apocalypse-happy ones. Sam and Dean weren’t too happy that I should be treated like a guinea pig. However, after assuring us that he wouldn’t do anything to permanently harm me, it was settled that Cas could try. I wasn’t too comforted by the “permanently harm me” part.

I sat in the middle of the living room—or perhaps it was the library. I wasn’t entirely sure… Anyway, I sat in the middle of the room with Dean, Sam, and Bobby as an audience. Cas looked pensive as he paced the room. The more he paced, the more nervous I felt.

“Are we doing this or what, Cas?” Dean finally called out.

Cas nodded, but not really at Dean, more to himself. He walked over to me and placed his hand on my forehead.

“The sleep thing still doesn’t work,” he muttered. He removed his hand. He thought for a second. “Let me know if this hurts.”

I swallowed once and nodded. I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t sure what kind of angel power he had, but I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of something hurtful.

He didn’t touch me this time. He more or less stared at me and then snapped his fingers. Thankfully, I didn’t feel anything and told him so.

“And now,” he said without missing a beat. Snap!

Still nothing. I shook my head no.

He snapped his fingers once again. I felt a slight twinge in my stomach, but it didn’t hurt.

Cas stopped and turned around for a moment like he was thinking about something.

While he was thinking, Bobby asked me, “How do you do that?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you feel anything?” he asked.

“No, not really. The last one I felt something, but it didn’t hurt or anything. It was like a very light tickling sensation.”

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

“Just so we are clear,” I said, “I feel like a lab rat here.”

“Okay, Cas, last one,” Dean said, standing up and walking over. “We might have to feed the lab rat. She’s getting cranky.”

I just glared at Dean, who winked back at me. Cas turned around.

He came closer. He looked nervous.

“What exactly do you plan on doing?” I asked him.

He didn’t say anything. I glanced at Dean, who still stood beside me. He looked more serious now.

Cas reached out and touched me. This time, I felt a sharp sting throughout my body, making me jump back. Cas removed his hand.

“Okay,” I said, standing. “I felt that one. That stung.”

Cas looked surprised. “Really?”

I nodded. “What were you trying to do?”

“No, that should have…” He stopped and looked at the others. “That should have killed you.”

All but me erupted with comments. I was still too stunned.

“I would have brought her back,” he said to them.

I was able to stop an angel from killing me? How was that possible?

After a little time and a shot of whiskey—which Dean insisted I had something—I was under more scrutiny, albeit less life-threatening. Bobby went for the more scientific route and took a sample of blood. I was not exactly sure what they would find. I didn’t think I was some sort of mutant, but one never knew in this lifestyle.

A new search for lore that would fit what I could do, taking into consideration that I was human, began with fresh energy. Despite everything, nothing indicated that I should be able to do what I did. This continued for a day or two.

Unexpected Visitor

Basically at a standstill, they got wind of a possible vampire nest not too far from Bobby’s—a few hours away. Sam and Dean decided that they would go and take care of that while I stayed with Bobby and tried to get somewhere with…myself. Cas remained on standby if anything went wrong—seeing how I could directly call to him for some reason. We practiced this once before they left, and it worked. He could also still locate me because I did not have the angelic warding engraved on my ribs.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t uncomfortable about staying at Bobby’s. He didn’t seem to hover, but he subtly kept a close eye on me. Sam and Dean left that morning and said they should be back the next day—assuming nothing went wrong.

During the day, we tried to look through more books. I tried the internet with no such luck. Apparently, I didn’t exist—or rather, my powers didn’t exist. The only closest thing that we could come up with was that I was an angel, but that most assuredly was not true. I still had a cut on my arm from the angel blade he tried. Nothing. They also tried the demon blade before Sam and Dean left—just in case. No reaction to any of it.

That evening after Chinese leftovers from lunch, we were about to give up for the day. We were both a little tired and could not bring ourselves to look at anything else. We sat down to watch television when I felt something.

Before I could mention the weird feeling, an older man stood before us.

“Hello, there,” he said.

We both stood up.

“Who the hell are you?” Bobby asked, pulling out a gun.

The man rolled his eyes at the gun.

“The name is Zachariah, and I came for this little lady,” he said, gesturing at me. “We angels are sure interested in her.”

Bobby stood in front of me. “Over my dead body.”

“Let’s not be dramatic,” Zachariah said. He reached out and touched Bobby’s forehead. The gun went off but hit the wall before Bobby slumped over. I backed up.

“Analina? Isn’t it?” he asked me, stepping over Bobby. “Don’t worry. We won’t hurt you.”

I had to think fast. After all the things we discussed, I had to think of something that would work. I tried building up a ball of energy like I did with the demon and throwing it at him, but I don’t think he even noticed. He just stood there. Maybe he was a higher-up angel that I couldn’t repel? Which probably meant that his powers probably worked on me. I rubbed my arms, feeling the large Band-Aid from my two knife cuts.

“What do you want with me?”

“Oh, we just want to make sure you’re on the right side. That’s all,” he said, holding up his hands and taking another step.

I had an idea, but I had to buy some time. “Well, I’m not pro-Satan if that’s what you mean.”

“He is my brother, but that’s good news. You know, these Winchesters might have mixed things up for you. I don’t think you understand what’s really happening,” he continued.

I took another step back and put my arms behind me as I hit the wall.

He stopped advancing when he saw I had nowhere else to go.

“Like what? I thought we were in the middle of the apocalypse?”

“Right, we are. You see, I don’t think they really understand the whole meaning of it. Of course, there will be this big fight,” he said, waving his hands dismissively at it. “But, in the end, there will be peace. Heaven on earth. Doesn’t that sound nice? Isn’t that what you want? Don’t you want you and your family to be happy and safe?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” I asked. Almost there, I thought. This was much harder than I anticipated at this angle.

He smirked. “Either way, you’re coming with me. We’ll keep you safe while we figure out your purpose in this whole thing.”

“Sure, why don’t I just go grab my bag,” I said, with some sarcasm. There! I took a step forward and placed my hand back. On the wall behind me, I drew the angel-repelling symbol in blood, very small but still visible. I let my bandage fall to the floor. I pressed my hand against the wall. In a bright light, Zachariah disappeared from the room.

I blinked a few times before I could believe it worked. I ran over to Bobby, who still lay unconscious on the floor.

“Bobby?” I shook him. I didn’t really think I could wake him, but I had to try.

I picked up Bobby’s cell phone. Wait! Cas!

“Cas,” I called aloud for a change. “Please, I need your help.”

I waited a moment. I wondered if Dean and Sam would be able to get here before Zachariah came back, or even if Bobby would wake up by then. I knew that an angel could knock you out for a few hours. I wasn’t sure how long that repellent symbol worked for. Wait, did that stop Cas from coming back? Was he too far away? He obviously wasn’t close enough to feel Zachariah when he came.

Before I could think further, I felt him coming. I almost collapsed with relief. He appeared in the kitchen beyond the wall with the symbol.

“Cas,” I breathed in relief. “Thank goodness.”

I walked over and rambled, “There was another angel here, and I couldn’t feel him in time to do something about it. He knocked Bobby out, and he wanted to take me with him, and I did that angel symbol thing in blood that you guys taught me, and he disappeared...”

He came over and put his hands on my shoulders. “Analina, breathe.”

I took a deep breath in and felt my whole body shaking. I concentrated on myself for a moment.

Noticing I was getting myself back in control, he went into the room to see about Bobby.

“He should be fine in a few hours,” Cas said, crouching down beside him. “Who was it? Did he say?”

“Zachariah?” I said.

Cas rubbed his face at that. “We need to get you out of here. He’ll be back as soon as he can.”

“Should I call Dean or Sam?” I said, looking down at the cell phone that was still gripped in my hand. I seriously needed my own cell phone again.

“I’ll call them. You go grab your things. We don't have long before he can come back.” He took the phone from my hands. I ran upstairs to grab my things. Luckily, I didn’t really unpack because everything was mostly covered in dust, and I didn’t want to get my things dirty.

I hurried back downstairs.

“I got their location. I’ll take you to them, and we’ll see what we can do.”

I nodded.

“Oh, you’re going to have to do that—that thing like when we first met.” I cringed.

“Yes.”

I sighed and stepped closer. “And Bobby?”

“I’ll come back and watch Bobby until he wakes. They’re after you, not him. He’ll be okay in the meantime.”

I nodded once more. “Alright,” I gulped. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t as bad as the first time since I kind of expected it. I still fell forward, but Cas kept me upright by holding my arm.

“You guys alright? Where’s Bobby?” Dean asked.

Cas and I turned around to find Sam and Dean looking worried. They walked over.

“Bobby will be fine. He is asleep,” Cas answered. “It was Zachariah.”

Dean swore under his breath.

I looked around to find us on an abandoned roadway. The Impala was parked on the side. Sam took my bag from Cas and put it in the car as we walked over at a slower pace.

“How about you?” Dean asked me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” I replied. I was still a little shaky, but technically I was fine. “I hardly had any warning with Zachariah, though.”

He nodded and looked down at my arm. He pulled out a bandana and started wrapping it around the cut.

“I had to reopen it to draw that symbol,” I explained.

“Good work,” he said with a small smile.

Just as he finished tying a knot, I felt that weird sensation again, but this time I had more warning.

“I think an angel is coming. Not Zachariah, but it feels similar.”

Dean’s eyes flashed up. “You can sense them now.”

“She is right,” Cas said. “She felt her before I did. It’s only one. I can handle it. You guys should go.”

“Right,” Dean agreed and started ushering me towards the Impala door.

“You’ll be alright, Cas?” Sam asked.

“Yes. Go.”

We jumped in the car. Just as we were speeding away, I noticed a figure appear next to Cas. I couldn’t see what happened because we made a sharp right down another street.

After some crazy driving—and that was putting it mildly—Dean asked if I could feel the angel anymore. I said no, and Dean started to drive normally.

“How come you could sense that angel, but not Zachariah?” Dean asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Do you think Zachariah is different? Like he has some sort of shield against someone sensing him?” Sam wondered.

I couldn’t think of anything. “Maybe.”

“Awesome,” Dean said sarcastically.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR:
Loose Ends

WE HAD NO MORE INCIDENTS like those first few days for quite some time. The one angel at the roadside was already trailing Sam and Dean from some interview they did at a local bar in connection to the vampire hunt; it was not because I had appeared with Cas. Instead, she was checking to see if I was still with them on their hunt. Cas said he took care of her—whatever that meant. I didn’t want to dwell on it too much. With that, we were angel-free for the time being. Bobby was fine and sent another pair of hunters to deal with the vampire case that was left unfinished by our hasty departure. That was two hunting jobs that I messed up for them in the very few days we had known each other.

WE DECIDED TO AVOID BOBBY’S for a little while, just in case Zachariah or any of his goons were watching the place. We figured he wouldn’t be stupid enough to think we would come back so soon, but better safe than sorry with that. During the next few days of random traveling, we managed to talk some more. I learned more about them, and I mentioned some things about me. I started to learn their habits and preferences. For instance, Dean preferred bacon cheeseburgers, while Sam liked salads. I came to the conclusion that burgers were to Dean as chicken was to me. Also, pies were to Dean as cheesecake was to me. Well, maybe not quite to the extent that he liked those items, but it came close.

During this time, I also finally acquired a cell phone—not that I was making too many calls, but it would be handy in case of an emergency. I finally called my parents, who were, needless to say, very distraught over what happened. It took a while before we could at least talk normally. They were mad about how I left and didn’t contact them for all this time. They (thankfully) didn’t report a kidnapping but came very close on several occasions. Work was not too pleased with my disappearance. They checked with my parents about where I was because they were my emergency contacts. Basically, it was a complete mess.

To take care of the work situation, I faxed over a resignation letter to Human Resources. Dean and Sam also wrote to them. They stated that I was under strict confidential work with the government and would not be able to return to my prior position for some time, if at all. It was a good thing they had a lot of experience with forging documents and imitating government officials. I was not sure how well that went over or if work researched into much of that, but I didn’t hear anything back—or rather, my parents didn’t, since they could no longer get a hold of me.

My parents knew most of what was going on. They knew about the upcoming apocalypse and how I could possibly help. They weren’t thrilled with the idea of it, but they didn’t have much of a choice. They couldn’t come after me. And if I did go back home now, I was sure demons and angels would eventually descend upon their house. My apartment was fine since it was connected to my parent’s house—part of a duplex. When my parents had a car accident a year ago, they were both rendered disabled and unable to work. Because their old house had so many stairs, they had to move. The new house had a smaller apartment added on by the previous owners. It worked. I moved into the smaller side to help them. Although they were doing much better, they would have to get someone else to stop by and assist them with some of the household chores. Conveniently, we had family members just five minutes down the road, so I didn’t feel completely guilty about this part of the situation.

The rest of my family and friends got a similar story as my work did. They were told that I was involved in some very hush-hush government job that happened on the spur of the moment. It was described as the kind of job that if they knew what I was doing, I would have to kill them. That wasn’t too far from the truth—only I wouldn’t be the one potentially killing them.

Basically, no one was terribly happy that I had disappeared, but I tried to periodically answer my emails and keep things nondescript when it came to my “job.” I didn’t mention where I was until later after we left the place. I had also given my father access to my bank account so that any remaining bills that came in could be paid. Because they had to take care of my cat, I wanted to give them something for their trouble. I had a book blog where I charged for doing promotions. I cut way back on those because I didn’t have the time or access. However, I managed to put some money into the account periodically; that money went towards the cat’s maintenance fund.

Sam and Dean basically took over my daily expenses. They had the money—well, once they hustled it or used the fraudulent credit cards. Regardless, one more person—especially someone that wasn't high maintenance—did not make that much of a difference in their spending. They also stated that they felt responsible for me, considering how they had thrown me into all this. (Honestly, I didn’t see how it had been their fault since the prophecy dictated that I was to be a part of it.)

The apocalypse still loomed in the near future. I got more detailed information on how things led up to it. This prompted Sam to tell his story about demon blood, which also started back when he was a baby—the night his mom died. He had eventually learned that he had visions. This was when Yellow Eyes was gathering an army and trying to open the gates of Hell. Each affected child developed a special gift.

“So do you still have visions now?” I asked.

“No, not since Yellow Eyes died,” Sam answered. He paused for a moment. “Were you born in ’83?”

I almost answered but stopped myself and said with a smile, “Is this some weird method to ask me how old I am?”

Dean snickered at that. “Sammy, haven’t you learned not to ask a woman her age? I mean, as long as she’s legal…”

“I just meant,” he said, staring angrily at Dean for a second, “that her abilities could be similar to what happened to me.”

“Caused by a demon?” Dean clarified.

“Yeah.”

They both turned towards me.

“I don’t think that’s what happened to me.”

“But you did say that a demon came around when you were little, right?” Sam asked.

“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t interested in me. In fact, I believe it wanted me dead more than anything else.”

“Dead?”

“Yeah, like trying to get my parents to push me down the stairs in my walker or putting me in the roasting oven.”

“Yeah, that might not be the same thing,” Dean conceded after giving me a second look. “Maybe it knew that you would be able to stop them later?”

“Maybe…I don’t know. The demon’s name was Chaos if you ever come across it.”

“Chaos?” They both smiled at that.

“Beats the name Azazel any day,” Dean said. “That’s ol’ Yellow Eyes.”

We talked about demons some more and the apocalypse.

“So do you have any sort of plan?” I asked.

They both sort of sighed and shrugged.

“Our current plan is to kill Lucifer,” Dean replied.

Kill the devil? They had to be nuts.

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Yeah, well, we don’t have much to go on,” Dean explained.

“So you are trying to find a way to kill the devil?”

They nodded.

“You know that has a success rate of like zero, right?” I asked.

“We could just say yes and let the apocalypse happen,” Sam offered. Apparently, they had this conversation before and didn’t get anywhere.

Dean asked, “What else can we do?”

I thought about it. “Well, how about just sending Lucifer back to hell? If there was a way to get him out, maybe there’s a way to get him back in there. I mean, it’s been done once before, and that would avoid the apocalypse and both of you saying yes.”

They actually thought about this. I had no idea how in the world we would do something like that.

“That could work, but the question is: how do we do that?” Dean said.

Well, that was something we couldn’t answer, but it gave us new hope and another direction to investigate for the time being. In a way, at that point they began to think that perhaps I could help them with this. I wasn’t a complete newbie in this supernatural world, and that counted for something. I had my doubts about my ability to help them, but I wanted to try. Talk about making a difference in the world!

Castiel

CAS CAME BY WHEN HE COULD. He was taking care of things on the angel front. With the angels split in Heaven about whether or not God was still up there and the apocalypse, things were in chaos. Most figured that the apocalypse would at least give peace and an end to it all. Only a handful of angels were not pro-apocalypse—at least to my understanding.

I didn’t quite understand how God was missing. Cas said that no one had seen Him. Technically, only a handful of angels had actually seen Him. Personally, I did not think this was possible. Regardless, he said that God would be able to stop Lucifer, which I believed to be true, assuming that was what God wanted.

“Cas, I don’t think God just disappeared,” I said one day when the boys were out and Cas was babysitting me.

“Have you seen Him?” he asked with full sincerity.

“Well, no, I haven’t actually seen him. Technically, I haven’t even ‘seen’ an angel until you.”

He looked disappointed.

“But I have felt them and Him,” I added.

He looked up. “When?”

Explaining my relationship with God and my Guardian Angel was not something I was comfortable or eager to do. I didn’t even speak about it to my parents or best friend. It seemed very personal to me, nothing I wanted to share. However, seeing how things weren't going well with their plans so far, I supposed that I didn’t have much of a choice. I first explained about my relationship with James.

This puzzled Cas because he said James was well hidden from him, and he assumed other angels. He drilled me for a while to make sure that this being really was an angel. He also wondered if that was my source for repelling demons and possibly him; that my guardian angel was just overprotective. It was an interesting concept to look into but one that couldn’t really be tested. James didn’t appear when I called to him. For some reason, he remained hidden.

I mentioned that I usually spoke to my guardian angel rather than directly to God. I had only once felt God, which would be my closest experience to “seeing” God. It happened a while ago when I was still in high school. It was a unique experience. I couldn’t exactly remember what was going on, but I was really sad and upset that night. All of a sudden, it felt like something hugging me, and instantly I was calm and peaceful—very relaxed. It lasted a few minutes, and somehow I just knew that God hugged me. It hadn’t happened again, and it felt different than when James was around.

“So you think He’s still around?” Cas asked me.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” I answered.

“Then how is he letting all of this happen? Does He really want the apocalypse to happen? All those people to die?”

I said, “Who said that the apocalypse will happen? Maybe it will be stopped, and maybe He means us to do it.”

It wasn’t the best answer, but it gave Cas some hope. Regardless, he was still set on finding God. I wasn’t sure how that would go over, but I was glad he didn’t want to give up.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE: Learning and Training

Late Summer 2010

AS TIME PASSED, we fell into a routine. The guys periodically found some cases in the nearby area and investigated and hunted whatever was there. I was strictly on a stay-at-the-motel basis (with protection spells and whatnot) during that time; more than likely, Cas babysat me or was within the immediate vicinity. At first, I didn’t mind so much. It was nice not being trapped in the car all day. However, it became dull very fast, especially when they had to investigate a case for more than a few days.

Despite the safety regulations placed on me, I accrued some stories along the way. We had a few funny incidents when we checked into motels. The desk clerk sometimes took note of the two men and me. The looks we got were entertaining enough. However, one time the guy said, “I’m sorry, but we’re not that type of motel.”

Once in the motel room, Sam and Dean assured me not to worry about it. They had gotten comments about bunking together and that the motels were not against “openly gay couples.”

Not long after the clerk’s comment, I had another experience at a different motel. We had just arrived in the room, and I went into the bathroom. I shut the door. Looking by the toilet, I noticed a huge cockroach! I wasn’t sure if it was alive or dead. I was not normally scared of insects either, but this startled me. I almost caught myself, but a muffled scream escaped my lips.

I heard Sam and Dean come to the door.

“Analina, are you alright?” Dean asked.

“Fine… I’m sorry,” I said as I wadded up some toilet paper. “I wasn’t expecting an audience in here. But, don’t worry. He’s trying out the waterslide right now.”

I threw the toilet paper-rolled cockroach in the toilet and flushed. I thought I heard them laughing through the door. I, on the other hand, was surveying the rest of the room and vowed that I would no longer be the first one to try the bathroom out again.

I wasn’t always trapped in the motel room. We usually went out to eat somewhere, and on occasion, they had to go shopping. I volunteered to go with whoever was going. For one, it was nice to get out; and for two, I don’t think they were well-versed in buying feminine products. I did not know this for sure, but I was fairly confident in my assessment.

Sam and I went shopping one afternoon while Dean was interviewing someone about a recent murder. It seemed to be a fairly open-and-shut case for them. Sam was easy to talk to. He didn’t always have the sarcasm that Dean did. I learned that he went to college to study law. He did very well, although he didn’t actually admit this to me. We talked about college for a little while. I had studied Economics and Math, then did my masters in Finance online while I worked. I had just graduated with that. I said that he could still do school like that. It might not be law, but it could be something.

He wasn’t too sure. He obviously didn’t want to keep hunting the rest of his life and hoped after we stopped the apocalypse that maybe he could try a normal life once again. But, he had serious doubts. He was also hesitant with Dean’s backlash.

“It’s sometimes not worth the reaction,” he confided.

“Dean doesn’t want a normal life?” I asked him as we went down the aisle.

“I’m sure he does. He might not admit it, but I can tell. He’s just….I don’t know, worried about what would happen,” he paused. “What would follow him home. He doesn’t think that he can get away from this life.”

“Ever?”

He shook his head.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I thought I could,” he laughed without humor for a second. “Obviously, I was sucked back in.”

“And you guys are convinced that you can’t have both lives?”

“It’s hard to separate them.”

Well, I understood that. We were silent for a little while as we picked up the rest of our items. It didn’t seem fair that they had to give up their lives to do what they did. Sam hardly had a normal life – just a few years at college. Dean didn’t have it all, except when he was little. How much could he remember from being four years old? This was their lives. Maybe if we did stop the apocalypse, things could die down enough that they could have a chance, I reasoned. They might not quit the job permanently, but maybe they could have some experiences outside hunting.

“If I’m supposed to help you guys with,” I looked around, no one was in earshot, “the apocalypse and everything, how am I supposed to do that if I’m shut in the motel all the time?”

“Hunting can be dangerous,” he started. “It’s not safe to throw you into something that you have no experience with.”

“True, but if these things follow you ‘home’, like you guys believe, shouldn’t I be aware of how to protect myself?” I countered.

I could see that he was going to say something—like nothing would follow them back, but that was not entirely true. Or, at least, he didn’t believe that to be entirely true.

“Good point,” he said.

We were silent as we checked out. We didn’t say anything as we walked back to the motel, which was two blocks away. I figured that he was just going to let the subject drop, and maybe not deal with it, but I was wrong.

As we reached the motel room, he said, “I guess we should probably show you a few things.”

He dropped the bags on the table.

“I assume you’ve never fired a gun?” he asked.

I confirmed that I hadn’t. After we unpacked our items, he started to explain the workings of a gun. Honestly, I wasn’t exactly comfortable with handling a gun. I’d never even held a real one in my hands before, but I thought it would be a good idea to learn if I was going to be around them all the time.

Dean had come back as I was loading a gun and showing Sam what he taught me. Dean was a little startled, and they had a short (semi-loud) spat about me learning to use weapons. However, it ended up being more centered on hunting. I basically stayed out of the argument and unloaded the gun I held in my hands and waited.

Finally, it was made clear that my training would be more defensive in nature. Besides learning how to use a gun and a few other weapons, they also thought it was wise to learn some defensive blocks and moves. This hurt—literally. I was not an athletic person, and I remained very sore for a while after those trainings. However, I began to gain some visible muscles in my arms, which was nice. I was still slim, but I didn’t look as fragile as I used to.

Dean tended to train me more with the weapons, and Sam took over the defensive work. I also got spontaneously drilled on how to handle certain monsters and what signs indicated what it was. For instance, a ring of salt would protect me from ghosts, or a silver blade would hurt a shape-shifter.

One of my favorite training techniques was picking locks. I managed to impress them in one area. Because of my tiny wrists, I was able to get out of handcuffs without picking the lock. I found this out ages ago when I had handcuffed my friend and myself to the banister. Somehow the key was lost, and I was able to get out of the cuffs without a problem. She wasn’t too lucky. We managed to find the keys within half an hour.

Despite the training, they weren’t entirely sold on me joining them in their hunts, which at that time was fine. Everything was still new to me. I dealt with ghosts, demons, and angels, but not on a level that made me ready to hunt anything. Creatures were out there that I never even heard of before or could believe existed. The training helped a lot and my confidence slowly grew. I thought this also helped us to bond better. We gained more trust in each other, and slowly we became better friends.

Soon after the beginning of my training, I asked to read their dad’s journal. They warned me that I might not be able to understand a lot of it. Many cases and other things were randomly thrown in there. I told them not to worry about it; I wouldn’t ask them a ton of questions while I read.

With everything that happened to me the prior weeks, things started to get better. I adopted a "Cone of Silence" with them, but especially Dean. He wasn’t always forthcoming with his feelings – unless he was mad. I slowly got him to talk to me. I hadn’t realized I had said, “Don’t worry. We’re in the cone of silence,” as many times as I did. He eventually started to tease me about it. So, I teased him back. Soon it went from being a joke to being serious. We learned quickly that we both could hold secrets if asked.

Chapter Text

MINI CHAPTER BONUS – Alone Time

From the beginning, I had always felt that Sam and Dean needed some guy time. And personally, I could use some alone time myself. When I first joined up with Sam and Dean, being alone was almost impossible. As I eventually understood what I could do and the immediate danger wasn’t as bad, I found myself getting some space. It first started off as getting my own room – more than likely in a suite that was in with theirs. It upgraded to having two rooms that were connected.

Also, Cas and Bobby no longer babysat me when Sam and Dean had to do something for a case that didn’t involve me. I learned the methods for detecting and stopping monsters, and even then, they were only a phone call away.

Dean would get antsy when we were on a case too long, which meant that he needed to unwind once it was over. His favorite pastime for doing so was going to a bar. For me, I never really went to a bar. It wasn’t that I was against drinking – even though I rarely drank myself – but I liked a quiet atmosphere somewhere else. Going to a bar was also where Dean and Sam got their cash – from playing pool or poker. Most of the time, if not all the time, this was illegal, but they didn’t seem to flinch at it. Unfortunately, hunters usually didn’t get paid at all, so gambling was a way to bring in some money. Cash worked well when the fraudulent credit cards did not work. Has my life really come to accept these things so easily?

I never gambled, so if I was ever there, I tended to just sit at a table and let them do their thing. In a way, I believed they preferred this. It was one thing to learn how to hunt, but it was something completely different to learn how to gamble – and sometimes cheat at it. That was something I was uncomfortable with, and it showed – apparently when Dean had tried to teach me how to play poker. Therefore, once I was in the “inner circle of trust”, I stayed at the motel – which was never too far away from the bar – and spent some time by myself. I would read, talk to my parents on the phone, watch television, and answer emails.

At first, Sam and Dean were unsure if I would be alright by myself. They also wanted to make sure that I felt included – not a third wheel, so to speak. I assured them as an only child that I was quite fine and preferred some alone time every now and again. I also felt that spending some time apart helped our relationship after being stuck in the car for hours on end. It gave everyone a chance to breathe for a while.

Chapter Text

MINI CHAPTER BONUS – Bar Scene

It wasn’t too long before Sam and Dean took me to a bar. Dean enjoyed these outings. Sam seemed to tolerate them. I was never that comfortable in a bar, but I tried not to think too much about it.

We took a seat at the table, since we ate dinner there. Dean went to the bar to get some drinks afterwards. He didn’t ask what we wanted; he just went. That was probably going to be bad for me, I thought. It was here that I learned how Sam and Dean normally obtained their money. They weren’t planning on hustling pool that night, even though a pool table was not far from where we sat. They had enough cash at the moment.

Sam brought out the laptop and started to show me some articles he was looking at for the case – which was a rawhead. I never heard of such a thing, but they looked disgusting in the drawings. How do these things exist without everyone’s knowledge?

Dean came back and placed a beer bottle in front of Sam and me. He took a sip of his own. His eyes scanned the place, which was completely normal for him. I didn’t think he realized that he did it as often as he did. It was probably the natural hunter in him. Checking out the surroundings. Taking note of anyone that looked out of place. I did a similar thing, but from being outside my comfort zone. I had found that two guys were periodically glancing over at me. I tried to ignore them and was thankful that Sam had stayed at the table so I didn’t have to worry about one coming over.

“Hey,” Dean said, bumping my arm, “Looks like someone is checking you out.”

“Which one?” I asked, still looking at the rawhead pictures. It still baffled me. “The one to my one o’clock or the one to my nine?”

Dean swiveled his head around, apparently not noticing the other guy yet. “Well, look at you. Do you need us to leave you alone? So you know…” He wagged his eyebrows.

I looked up from the laptop. “That’s alright. Thanks.”

“Can’t decide which one, huh?” he continued. “Honestly, I would go with that one over there.” He nodded his head behind him. “He might not be handsome like me, but he’s not spending his days at McDonald’s like that one.”

I just stared at him for a moment.

“What?” he blinked in surprise. “Unless wider guys turn you on….”

“Dean…” I smiled and looked back down. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, shouldn’t you be more concerned with the bartender, whose number you got?”

Sam looked at Dean in surprise – probably not that he got a number, but that I noticed.

“She’s good,” Dean said, pulling out a napkin with a number written in feminine handwriting. He smirked at Sam. “What else have you noticed?”

I pushed the laptop back towards Sam. “Well, that guy in the red plaid seems to be cheating at pool, but I don’t think the other has noticed yet. There was a couple sitting there, but the woman went to the bathroom and met up with another guy. They’ve been in the back for a while now. I’m surprised that the guy sitting there hasn’t gone back to check things out – unless he wants to be in denial. That woman over there has been trying unsuccessfully to gain the tall guy’s attention. Honestly, I think he’s gay because he’s been periodically checking out the manager.”

Dean grinned. “Like sands through the hourglass…”

He took a swig of his beer. He noticed I hadn’t touched mine yet.

“Don’t you want your beer?” he asked.

“I don’t really like beer,” I said honestly and waited for the reaction. It came minutely as a surprised reaction, but he gained composure in a blink of an eye.

“I can get you something else,” he said – which surprised me a little. I was waiting for the backlash. Dean tended to tease Sam’s preferences for eating healthy. I thought I would get something similar.

“I’m fine.”

“No, really,” he said and pulled out his wallet to go back over to the bartender.

I smiled a little. “I think she’ll talk to you regardless if you’re buying a drink.”

That stopped him in mid-thought. He smiled for a moment. “Well, yeah… of course.” He turned his thoughts back on to what was going on. “I’ll get you something else. Hold on.”

“Dean, you don’t….” But he was already sauntering up to the bar.

“I guess it’s better than him getting more for himself,” Sam said with a laugh. “You know, you’re pretty observant.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I kind of have to be with my work because I could get in a whole lot of trouble if I miss something. I guess it can be good or bad, depending on how you look at it.”

After a few minutes, Dean came back with a glass this time. “Here, try this.”

The drink in question was what Dean called a “girly drink” – amaretto sour. Considering I was a girl, he didn’t tease me about it. As for the bartender, I didn’t think Dean got a chance to call her. We had to leave fairly quickly after that case was solved the next day.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX:
My First Hunt

DURING MY TRAINING, I didn't experience another demon or angel attack. I slowly got better in my training skills. I was still not a great shooter, but I at least hit the target sufficiently. Eventually, they agreed that I could come with them on one of their simpler cases—or so they thought.

MY FIRST OFFICIAL HUNTING TRIP with Sam and Dean seemed pretty easy—a haunting at an old house that was up for sale many times over. Having some experience sensing spirits before, I thought it would be interesting to see how much that had grown since I met the Winchesters.

The house was just sold to someone who knew Bobby and what he did, but he was not a hunter. Bobby said that he would have someone take care of it for him, so the guy could fix the house up and rent it out. The history of the house wasn’t unusual, at least nothing that was ever recorded. The prior owners had consistently noted strange noises, electrical problems, cold spots, and uneasy feelings. No one was actually hurt, but some people had a few close calls. One man claimed he was “pushed” while going down the stairs. A woman was shocked while using a blow dryer. It was the little things that added up to a move.

No unusual deaths took place in the house. The first owner’s wife had a stillborn but later delivered three more children in that house who grew up to be fine and healthy. Without finding much on the background that would indicate who was haunting the house, we decided to see what was inside. If the spirit appeared, we might be able to match it up to an old photo or something. Once identified, we could salt and burn the bones to get rid of the spirit. It was also possible that this was a false alarm.

Dean parked the Impala just outside the house. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and the once-white paint was peeling from the sides of the house. The dark green wooden Victorian porch looked warped and grayer than it must have been. A few pieces of the house littered the front lawn. Its appearance from the sidewalk screamed "haunted house."

“You ready?” Dean asked me as he went around to the trunk to pull out some supplies with Sam. When they had originally told me how they shot ghosts with salt bullets to slow them down, but not kill them, I was skeptical. I ended up saying, “Considering they are already dead, I can see how that wouldn’t actually kill them.” To which Dean sarcastically replied, “Cute.” Sam just smirked. Since they had more experience with this, I figured that the salt rounds did work. I wondered if I would see it in action today.

I nodded, and we walked up to the house. The stairs gave way under our weight, but thankfully didn’t cave. We were given the key so we had no need to break in. Dean unlocked the door and looked back at us. Sam nodded his head that he was ready.

The door squeaked open. The house was old and musty. It must have been up for sale for a long time. Furniture still scattered throughout the rooms, some with white sheets over them. Dust was everywhere. It was quiet. Nothing moved. The air itself was cold and oppressive—at least to me.

We slowly made our way down the hall, glancing as we passed each room. It didn’t seem like anything was going to jump out at us, so Dean brought out the EMF detector. I slowly opened myself up more to the house. It felt strange. Not a normal haunted house. I was sure of that. Something else was here.

Ignoring what was around me, I could pinpoint a spirit upstairs. Dean stopped, and I almost bumped into him. Noticing the EMF was doing nothing for him, I moved his hand so that it pointed just above him.

“Right there,” I said, and the EMF started to light up before stopping. I continued to move his hand as the spirit moved upstairs.

Dean looked back at me surprised.

I shrugged. “She’s upstairs.”

“Alright, Tangina, lead the way,” Dean said, turning off the EMF detector.

I ignored the Poltergeist reference. I glanced up the staircase that was to our right side. “Something feels weird, though.”

I started to climb anyway. I only took a moment to appreciate the old, detailed wooden banister. There was a job to be done here, I reminded myself. I refocused my thoughts. The spirit felt nervous or scared. It didn’t make sense if this was the same spirit that terrorized all those prior homeowners. Wouldn’t it be more aggressive?

The top of the staircase looped around down a long hall with closed doors. She felt like she was near the end of the hallway, probably in one of the bedrooms. I started to walk with Dean and then Sam behind me. I got near the end of the hall and suddenly stopped as the spirit moved back in the opposite direction. This time, Dean bumped into me.

“Sorry, she moved back into the other room, I think,” I said. I started to go to the door behind us, but then she moved forward again. I sighed. “She’s scared. She keeps pacing.”

“Scared? Scared of what?” Sam asked.

I shrugged. I opened the one door, hoping she would stop pacing. I had never seen a spirit; I just felt them. With my newfound skills, I realized I could pinpoint things better—especially the location. The mood was something new, too—or at least the intensity of it.

She came in through the walls. She didn’t look old or ghostlike. She looked like a regular person from recent years, which didn’t really make sense. The house had been vacant for such a long time, according to the documents Bobby gave us.

Dean raised his gun, but I pushed it back down. I whispered, “Really? A gun? She’s not going to hurt us.”

“Who are you? Leave this house,” the woman said, staying as far back as she could. She had white-blond hair and gray eyes. Perhaps they were once a different color, I considered. She wore a pair of jeans and a blouse. I estimated her to be around her mid-thirties.

“We should be telling you the same thing,” Dean replied, eyeing her up. However, he did lower the gun.

“I can’t leave,” she said sadly. She looked up suddenly. “You need to leave now!”

The guys just blinked back in shock at the ghost’s change in intensity. I, on the other hand, had a small feeling for what was coming. Then it started to make sense why this ghost was here and unable to leave. Also, why she didn’t seem to fit with the house. I began to sense the others—somewhere in the basement and sporadically throughout the house.

Before anyone could say or do anything else, I asked, “How many of you are in here?”

“Others?” Dean asked. He looked around but didn’t see anything.

“About a dozen or so,” she said, nervously looking beyond the door. “You have to leave!”

“You need to get out before it gets here. I can try to help you,” I said quickly. The thing that was coming was a demon, but not one possessing a human. It was using the spirits to gain power. It must have gotten hold of the spirits as they died in the surrounding area. The demon was using them to move up in the demon world. The more souls a demon collected, the stronger it became. We were actually in a very dangerous situation, considering that we didn’t know about this.

“No, I can’t,” she said, wringing her hands.

“But...”

“I won’t leave without my daughter.”

“Where’s your daughter?” I asked.

“She hides, usually in the basement. She is too scared to leave this place.”

“Analina, what’s going on?” Sam asked.

“A demon is trapping them in the house, and it’s coming back.” Even as I said this, I could feel the air getting heavier and cooler.

“What’s your name?” I asked the ghost.

“Dottie.”

“We’ll get your daughter, but you need...”

“No!” She flashed forward a little. I jumped slightly.

“It’s coming,” I turned to Sam and Dean. “Do you have anything for a demon with you?”

“Not much. We could draw a devil’s trap,” Sam said.

“I don’t think that will work. It’s not possessing anyone right now. It would be black smoke if we could see it.”

Sam dug in his bag and pulled out some salt. They started to seal off the room. I wasn’t sure how long that would buy us, let alone solve the problem.

“Dottie, if you won’t go, then maybe you can help us. We need to get the spirits here to cross over.”

“It won’t let us,” she blurted. If a ghost could cry, I was sure she would be doing so now.

“We’ll deal with the demon, but it’s getting its power from you and the others. We have to make it weaker.” I paused for a second. “Go and quickly tell the others what is happening. Anyone who is able should leave now. I can help them if they can’t.”

The salt lines were drawn all around the room.

“Can you do that?” I asked her when she didn’t answer me.

Her eyes grew wider, but she nodded. I went over to the door that led to the hallway. I got ready to break the line so she could leave. “Ready?”

The demon was coming fast. I ran my finger through the line. She quickly flashed out, but a force knocked me back. Sam reapplied the line as Dean helped me up. I thought I heard a growl in the hallway.

“You alright?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.”

“So now we have a demon and multiple ghosts to take care of,” Dean stated rather than questioned. He ran his hand over his face.

We heard thumping in a nearby room. The demon was pissed, and who knew what it was doing with the spirits trapped in the house. Not to mention what it would do to us once we left the salt-protected room. An idea popped into my head. Sam and Dean were discussing potential options.

“What if we go around protecting each room? Then we can slowly trap it and stop it with the exorcism,” I suggested.

“We don’t have enough salt for that,” Sam said with a sigh.

“You don’t need salt. How much holy water do you have?” I asked.

They each held up a small flask that they kept in their jacket pockets. I grabbed Dean’s because he was closer.

“That should be enough,” I muttered.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. His one eyebrow was raised.

“Here. Watch.” I went over to the door and moved a nearby chair over to the door to stand on. I opened the flask and wetted my finger just enough to write with. I quickly drew a small cross over the doorway with the characters 20CMB10. I said a quick prayer—improvising a little because 1.) I couldn’t remember it word for word and 2.) it included a request to Michael the Archangel. Considering we were trying to avoid that particular archangel at the moment, I figured we didn’t want to push our luck and have him appear. I repeated the steps to the other doorways—closet and bathroom—in the room.

Satisfied, I stood back and broke a salt line. Sam and Dean tensed with their guns in their hands, but nothing happened.

“This room is done,” I said, glad that my improvisation worked. “We have to do that to all the rooms, though.”

“And the more rooms we do, the more this thing is going to get pissed off,” Dean stated, obviously.

“Yep,” I agreed, not liking that prospect.

“So how do we protect the room?” Sam asked.

I decided to bask in the moment of knowing something they didn’t later. We had bigger problems at the moment. I quickly explained the holy water writing. That was easy. It was a basic yearly house blessing. The prayer or incantation, as they liked to call it, was a little longer, and I did not know it off by heart, so it was possible that I would change the wording for each room.

“Let me see your phone,” I said, handing Dean the flask. “I’ll record it on it here, so all you have to do is play it.”

I pressed a few buttons. I took a deep breath because I wanted to get it out as fast as possible—especially when we were going to need it near the end. “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, strengthened by the Blessed Virgin Mary, angels and saints, we ask that you break and dissolve any and all curses, hexes, spells, seals, satanic vow and pacts, spiritual bondings and soul ties with satanic forces, evil wishes and desires, traps, deceptions, and every dysfunction and disease from any sources that have been placed on this house or those who will reside here.”

I sucked in a breath as I hit stop.

“For once, something in English,” Dean noted. Dean looked like he was about to say something else, but Sam interrupted.

“So we need to keep this thing away from the other spirits so they can cross over? And, they are where?” Sam looked at me.

“Umm, it feels like most are downstairs. In the basement,” I clarified. “There are a few hiding about the house.”

“I say we split up and take the basement and this floor. We can squeeze it into the first and deal with it there. If the spirits are in the basement, we can keep them away from the demon so we can do our job,” Dean said. He took a quick look at us and continued. “Sam, you finish up here.” He tossed his cell phone to Sam. He turned to me for a moment. “You and I will start in the basement. We’ll meet you in the living room.”

Plan in place, we opened the door. It was silent in the hallway. Dean peeked around the frame, and a gust of cold wind blew by.

“Showtime,” Dean muttered.

Chapter Text

Rating: PG-13
Contains: Intense Sequences & Peril, Implied Violence, Thematic Elements, Mild Language, Disturbing

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Crossing Over

DEAN AND I CONTINUED DOWN the hall as Sam stopped in the next room to perform the protection spell. I followed Dean down the stairs, and once we reached the landing, the doors started to bang open and shut. Furniture started to move and block our path.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said with wide eyes. I rushed forward as a chair came sliding across the room. We raced towards the back of the house. The basement staircase was located through the kitchen. As we entered the kitchen, everything went still again. The whole room felt cold and damp. A slight sulfurous odor permeated everything. Dean went over to the basement door. Just as he was about to start down, it looked like he was pushed forward. Luckily, he caught himself by using the banisters. I was about to go and see if he was alright when the door slammed shut on me, separating us.

I pulled hard on the knob, but it would not budge. I heard him climb up the stairs and bang on the door. He had the flask, but the cell phone with the recording was with Sam. He didn’t know the words.

“Dean, start doing the protection...”

A kitchen drawer flew in my direction, nearly missing me. It crashed into the door.

“Analina! Are you okay?” I heard Dean shout.

“Fine, just start protecting that doorway. I—I’ll say the words out here. Repeat them.”

A pot flew at my head. I started saying, “In the name of…”

This was something out of a horror movie. I could only get a part of a sentence out at a time. The demon finally found the knife drawer by the time I reached the end. Thankfully, Dean was able to open the door, and I rushed behind the door as the knives flew after me. They collided with the door and not my body. Dean had stopped me from falling down the stairs, another good thing. I stood for a moment, catching my breath.

“The kitchen is going to be a little tricky,” I stated.

“Ya think,” he said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes but then looked me over to make sure I wasn’t hurt.

“Are there any more doors down here?” I asked.

“I don’t think so.” He turned to double-check. “I didn’t get a good look when I flew halfway down. That mother...”

“Dean, they’re down here, or at least, most of them,” I said, looking out at some ghostly figures hovering around the bottom of the cellar. As we came downstairs, more ghosts fizzled into focus. The basement only had one door at the top of the stairs. The rest was just a large room with a washer and dryer among some boxes and old broken furniture.

A crash came from upstairs.

“Sam!” Dean yelled and started up the steps. I didn’t even have a chance to remind him about the dangers in the kitchen.

“It’s getting mad,” a ghost said and turned back towards the others.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get rid of it,” I said, as calmly as I could. The adrenaline that I had prior was dying out, only to be replaced with anxiety and heart palpitations.

“It’s too strong,” a little blond girl whimpered.

“Then we need to make it weaker,” I said. I had to help them. “You need to cross over.”

“We’re stuck here,” a woman insisted.

“I can help you do it,” I said. I think.

“I want my mommy,” the little girl cried out and ran back into the corner of the basement.

This must be Dottie’s little girl. I went over to her. “Is Dottie your mom?”

She nodded.

“Can anyone get Dottie here? Call to her?” I asked the others.

“I just saw her not too long ago down here,” a man stepped forward. “I’ll see what I can do.” He disappeared.

“Okay, he’s going to find your mom. Don’t worry.” I turned back around. “I want at least half of you to leave now. That should help.”

I cringed as I heard another crash from above. “Quickly decide who will leave first.” I stepped away for a moment and glanced up the stairs. The door remained open. The demon couldn’t come down, but it sounded like it still had free rein of the first floor.

We needed to hurry. I heard arguing behind me. I turned back. “Have you decided?”

A handful of the men remained off to the side. One of them said, “Send the ladies and child first.”

“No!” The little girl screeched. “Not without my mommy!”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” I said. “I’ll make sure you go with your mommy.”

I didn’t have time to argue. The little girl would have to wait if she didn’t want to go now. I had no idea where Dottie was. I wasn’t even sure I could get them out of here. I had no idea how strong the demon’s hold on them was.

“Okay, all those who are leaving now, come over to this side and stand in a circle,” I said, moving across the basement. I had crossed over two ghosts in my time. Never this many at once. When I did it before, I couldn't even see them. More crashes upstairs and a bang that shook the house made me move ahead. The sound was farther away from the kitchen.

I took a deep breath and hoped that they couldn’t tell my hands were shaking; I clasped them in front of me. “When I tell you, go towards the light. Alright?”

I didn’t wait for an answer but closed my eyes to concentrate. Taking a breath, I imagined a bright light encircling me. I slowly pushed this protective bubble out towards them. I wasn’t sure if they saw what I did in my mind’s eye, or if they only felt it, but I heard a few gasps. I continued to concentrate, hoping that Sam and Dean were okay upstairs. I asked James to gather some angels to assist the spirits over. I waited and slowly felt the warmth spread over me and outward towards the others. “Okay, go,” I barely whispered.

I felt them slowly disappear, one by one. A silent sigh of relief filled the circle as they went. The coldness around me lessened. Just as the last of that group left, I heard a deep rumble and the house felt like it was splitting in two.

If it was mad before, now the demon was furious.