It was a little awkward between Dean, Sam, and Deja once the brothers remembered she was in the room, but Deja hadn't commented on the display she'd seen and didn't bring it up in any way, or try to force them into a situation to continue facing those emotions. She shouldn't have even been in the room for that conversation, but she had because of circumstance. She wasn't going to make it worse by dabbling somewhere she didn't belong.

There were times it was appropriate for her to give advice, and times when she needed to leave well enough alone because it wasn't her place. On top of that, she didn't really have a side in this-Sam was right, he was his own person who was going to make his own decisions, and Dean couldn't force him to stay if Sam didn't want to. If Sam wanted to leave, Dean had to let him go.

But Dean so obviously wanted, perhaps even needed, his brother around, she wanted to try and make Sam see that he had a loving brother who wanted to be with him, and he needed to try and be there for Dean until Dean was ready to part ways with his brother. Who knew how long it had been since they talked when Sam and Dean were reunited.

But again, this wasn't her business, so she shoved those thoughts aside and followed Sam and Dean under cover of darkness towards the warehouse Sam had said Meg was occupying, sticking close to the brothers and keeping a close eye on the shadows. It was a tall building, and despite the fact she was in shape and knew she could do it without much of a problem, Deja grimaced at the thought of climbing the elevator shaft to the top floor.

Just suck it up and do it, Deja, she told herself when she was faced with the climb, letting Sam go first with Dean insisting she go before him.

He probably worried she'd fall and wanted to be behind her to catch her if that did happen.

Nice confidence booster.

When they reached the top, it wasn't wide enough for all three of them to fit, so Sam and Deja had to see if Meg-who was standing with her back to them at the alter-was paying attention before they quietly slipped out of the elevator shaft and ducked safely out of sight behind the pillars in the room, Sam pointing a handgun at Meg to cover not only Deja's duck for cover but Dean whenever he managed to get out of the elevator shaft. After Dean pulled himself up out of the shaft and did the same thing, and they all drew into the shadows, pulling out their sawed-off shotguns in the dark behind stacks of crates in the back of the room with their gazes trained on Meg.

"Guys," Meg suddenly called out seconds after Sam had switched his handgun for a shotgun, still with her back facing them. "Hiding is a little bit childish, don't you think?"

All three of them exchanged quick glances, and Deja tightened her grip on her shotgun. "Well that didn't work out like I planned," Dean quipped, voice still quiet but not as much as it could have been.

Meg turned around, finally facing them. "Why don't you come out?"

The three hunters slowly emerged from the darkness, guns trained on the petite blonde woman in front of them. Sam and Dean were focused on Meg, but Deja kept casting her gaze towards the shadows on the walls, to the dark corners, wondering if the confidence the petite woman approached them with was because the daevas were here.

"Sam. I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship," Meg said calmly.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam growled.

"So...where's your little daeva friend?" Dean asked, a small smirk on his face.

"Around," Meg said vaguely.

Damn it, I was right, Deja thought, her gaze now studying the dark corners around them much more intensely. She suddenly wished this room was lit up like the Griswold's house at Christmas.

"And those shotguns aren't going to do much good," Meg added, staring Dean down.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart-the shotguns aren't for the demons."

"So, who is it, Meg?" Sam asked, drawing Meg's gaze back towards him, unsettling, amused smile and all. "Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?"

"You," Meg said simply.

Shit!

She hadn't been looking up. So, she didn't see the initial attack as the daeva swooped down on Sam, slashing him across the leg and cheek and sending him to the floor. She did see where it was from the wall on their left, and shoved Dean out of the path of a nasty hit in the hair's breath of reaction time she was granted as the daeva moved to its next victim. Unfortunately, the action made her the next target, and she screamed as she felt claws rip across her arm as it threw her into the wall.

Her head hit the stone, and she was out.

******************************

When Deja came to again, the first thing she felt was the pain in her head and arm. The next was the sensation of ropes around her wrists keeping her bound to a pillar at her back. When she twitched as consciousness came to her in its entirety, she felt something warm against her fingers, something that reached back and brushed against her hand at a slightly awkward angle.

Fingers.

A hand.

Whose?

Deja opened her eyes, finding herself staring into the darkness of the back of the warehouse room.

Great, she wasn't even facing the action and would miss most of what was going on.

Craning her head, Deja tried to peer around the corner of the pillar to see whose hand had brushed against hers. She spotted Sam, unconscious and rather bloody, tied to the pillar adjacent to her, so the hand must have belonged to...

"Dean..?" she breathed softly in question, voice hardly audible. The fingers gently squeezed the first finger of hers it could reach in confirmation, and Deja reached her hand back a little farther so he could get a better grasp, even if the angle was awkward for the both of them. Deja let out a slow breath of relief, deciding if he was reacting to her it was good enough of a confirmation that he was all right since she couldn't see him.

But she knew he was there and alive. And across from them, she knew Sam was also alive because of the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Now the question was how they were going to get out of this mess.

Dean's hand urged Deja's higher, trying to get her to follow up his arm under the fabric of his jacket and long sleeve flannel. For a second, even though she complied, she didn't understand why.

Until she remembered him strapping that small knife to his arm.

Meg must have missed that weapon, so Dean could potentially cut them both free.

As Deja's fingers ghosted along Dean's arm, feeling for the knife and ignoring the warmth of his skin, Sam stirred over at the other pillar, jolting awake when his gaze settled on something in front of him.

Meg must have been right there, or watching him, or something along those lines.

"Hey Sam?" Dean asked once he saw his brother was awake. "Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend? She's a pixie bitch, just like Deja said."

Deja smiled at that, fingers grazing against Velcro. She was close, then...

"Yes...the whole thing was a trap," Sam said, voice a little hoarse but growing in strength as he regained his bearings. "Running into you at the bar...following you here...hearing what you had to say...it was all a setup, wasn't it?"

Out of Deja's sights, Meg laughed.

"And that the victims were from Lawrence?" Sam continued.

"It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all," Meg said sweetly. Deja's fingers finally found metal, and she carefully started to slip the knife from its holder so she could start moving it downwards to Dean's waiting hand.

"You killed those two people for nothing," Sam growled.

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less," Meg said coldly, cutting him off before he could continue grilling her.

"You trapped us...good for you," Dean said in a snarky tone as Deja started to shimmy the blade down his arm with care, not wanting to accidentally cut him with his own blade. "It's Miller Time. Why don't you kill us already," he snapped, an angry timber in his tone.

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Meg asked in a demeaning tone. She really didn't like Dean, did she? She was still using her sweet voice with Sam, but flat out cold to Dean now. "This trap isn't for you."

Deja closed her eyes, her progress in passing Dean his blade halting for a few seconds as she leaned her head back against the pillar before she carefully, quietly dropped the knife into Dean's waiting hands, brushing against his fingers in comfort as they clenched around the blade before she retracted her hand out of his way.

"Dad...It's a trap for Dad," Sam said quietly.

"Oh, sweetheart...you're dumber than you look," Dean said confidently, no doubt sawing away at his ropes by now. "Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."

"He is pretty good, I'll give you that." Deja heard Meg move closer, and suddenly she was what sounded like a foot away from them, no doubt right in front of Dean. There was a soft thud, and Dean's hand bumped into hers as whatever Meg did jostled him, his grip on the knife momentarily shifting so he didn't stab Deja behind him. He still drew blood-accidentally, of course-but Deja didn't make a sound, staring resolutely into the shadows as Meg continued. "But you see...he has one weakness."

"What's that?" Dean asked, sounding like he really didn't care.

"You. He lets his guard down around his boys. Lets his emotions cloud his judgement...I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come, and try to save you, and then the daevas will kill everybody. Nice and slow and messy."

"Well, I've got news for ya-it's going to take a lot more than some shadow to kill him," Dean returned evenly.

"Oh, the daevas are in the room, here-they're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see," Meg returned in a voice full of just as much snark as Dean.

"Why are you doing this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh?" Sam suddenly asked from his pillar. "And with whom?"

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do-loyalty, love," Meg snapped. "Like the love you have for Mommy, and Jess."

The bonds holding Deja and Dean to the pillar tightened as Dean tensed.

"Go to Hell," Sam hissed.

"Baby, I'm already there," Meg retorted in a playful tone.

Meg finally entered Deja's field of vision as she crawled slowly towards Sam, voice lowering to what was supposed to be a sexy tone but only repulsed Deja. "Oh...come on, Sam...there's no need to be nasty." Meg's lips started to ghost along Sam's throat, and Deja looked away, swallowing bile.

That was just...so wrong. On so many levels.

Unfortunately, she could still hear.

"I think we both know how you really feel about me," Meg continued. "You know...I saw you...watching me...changing in my apartment...it turned you on, didn't it?"

"Get a room you too," Dean said, thankfully just as disturbed, it would seem, by this display as Deja.

"I didn't mind-I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy...you and I can still have a little dirty fun."

"You want to have fun? Go ahead, then-I'm a little tied up right now," Sam returned, voice tense. Deja leaned her head against the pillar she was tied to, closing her eyes as she waited for Dean to get free. She knew it took longer when he was working at an awkward angle and trying to be quiet, but still, she didn't know how much more of the show she didn't want to see or hear beside them she could endure.

The knife chinked audibly against the pillar, and everyone froze, Deja glancing over at Meg and reaching for Dean's hand to try and stash the knife before Meg could come over and investigate. Dean relinquished the weapon as Meg stood to come over, and as Meg walked around in front of Deja, who glared silently at her, Deja passed it from one hand to the other, hiding it on the back of her hand on the side opposite Meg was investigating by holding it between two fingers much like a magician hides a coin they're making disappear.

It didn't matter-Meg could still see the severed rope, her gaze traveling between Dean and Deja before she grabbed one of Deja's hands, squeezing and twisting hard enough she was certain something was going to break. Despite her best efforts, a whimper escaped her.

"Leave her alone, bitch," Dean said harshly as soon as Deja had made an audible sound of pain.

"Hand it over, then," Meg said sweetly, pressing a little harder, causing Deja to gasp. She still clung tight to the blade with her fingers, though.

"I don't have anything," Dean ground out, and she felt Meg shift to check Dean's hand, then reach over to check his other hand...

Deja tried to stash the knife somewhere as Meg finally came to her other hand, but it was too late. Meg released the hand she'd been on the edge of breaking, swiping the blade from Deja and cutting her across the cheek with it before tossing it away into the darkness. Deja hissed, but refused to vocalize the pain from the wound any other way before Meg returned to Sam.

"Damn..." she muttered under her breath, glaring in the direction the knife had disappeared.

"Were you just trying to distract me while your brother and his bitch cuts free?" Meg asked Sam softly, and Deja heard an actual, low, angry growl resonate from Dean at Meg's insult for Deja.

"No," Sam insisted. "No...it was because I have a knife of my own."

Before Deja could even turn her head in his direction, Meg suddenly grunted in pain, and Deja turned just in time to see the tiny woman on the ground, Sam free and clutching his head.

"Sam, get the alter!" Dean commanded calmly, probably watching as Sam stumbled out of Deja's sights. She heard a crash, and then the screeching of the daevas returned, mingled with Meg screaming before there was a crash of glass. Sam was at their side by then, easily cutting them free. Deja quickly whipped around to survey the scene, taking in the overturned table where the alter had been and the giant hole in the front window. Her arm hurt, her head was aching, but she rose to her feet as Sam helped Dean stand-apparently, Dean had been hit pretty badly after she'd been knocked unconscious, figures. Together, they made their way to the window, looking down where Meg's body lay unmoving on the ground.

"Well...at least they helped her fly for a few seconds instead of ripping her apart like normal," Deja quipped.

"So I guess the daevas didn't like being bossed around," Sam muttered while Dean leaned out the window to glance up and down the street in case anyone had witnessed Meg take a dive.

"I guess not," Dean replied before turning to Sam. "Hey Sam? Next time you want to get laid...find a girl that's not so buckets of crazy, huh?"

With that and a brief, tight smile, Dean turned around and walked away from the window, gently grasping Deja's uninjured arm, gaze zeroing in on the torn, bloodstained arm of her jacket and the cut across her cheek. "You all right?"

Deja shrugged, gesturing between all of them. "I'm no worse than you two. We can worry about bloody injuries once we're back at the hotel, all right?" she asked pointedly. Dean sighed.

"Fair, fair...let's get out of here, then."

*****************************

"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car, like Deja?" Dean asked as they made their way down the hall to the boys' hotel room, Dean in the lead and reaching for the key with Deja behind him and Sam taking up the rear.

Sam hefted the duffel bag Dean was referring to higher onto his shoulder. "I've said it before and I'll say it again...better safe than sorry," Sam replied, all three of them glancing across the hall when someone screamed on a television set that was up way too loud.

Dean went in first, and as a result, he was the first person to see the shadowy figure standing in their hotel room, both Dean, and once she saw the same figure Deja, immediately going on the defensive.

"Hey!" Dean shouted as Deja reached for her gun, once again in its snug spot in a holster in the back of her jeans. Sam was rushing to unzip the duffel when the figure turned, stepping into the light.

At first, Deja was still reaching for her gun. But when Dean suddenly froze, then relaxed at the sight of the dark-haired man before them with a trim beard that housed a little bit of grey, she left the gun in its holster, fingers hovering near it but not drawing the weapon as she took her cues from Dean's body language. She stepped even with Dean but out of Sam's way, seeing the sudden, raw emotion on his face, lips slightly apart as he registered the newcomer that was now smiling at both boys.

"Dad..." Dean eventually managed and Deja dropped her defensive posture entirely at the word, looking back towards the third man and looking at him a little closer now, muscling through her immediate reaction of shock.

This was John Winchester.

"Hey, boys," John said, voice low and gruff. His gaze slid to Deja, who suddenly felt very out of place in the room. "Miss."

Dean glanced at Sam, then Deja, then started moving towards John, closing the distance between them in five simple strides to grip him in a tight, full hug. The sight warmed her heart as Sam stepped carefully towards John, and Deja glanced towards the door.

She didn't belong here. Not right now.

"Hi, Sam..." John said once he'd pulled away from Dean and Sam had reached them.

"Hey, Dad," Sam replied softly, dropping the duffel bag to the floor.

Deja cleared her throat softly, gaining the attention of the three Winchesters. She'd only been aiming to get Sam or Dean's attention, not all of them. "I'll be...I'll give you guys a moment," she said with an awkward smile, a smile that got a slightly warmer edge when she locked eyes with Dean and saw how happy he seemed at the moment. Without another word, she went out into the hall, shutting the door firmly behind her and simply standing in the middle of the hall for several long moments, stuck between returning to her room, or standing outside theirs.

It would be weird to stand outside their hotel room, right? But what if they wanted her to come back in and meet John? But what if they didn't want to do that until morning?

None of them had expected this when they returned.

Tonight was just full of surprises, wasn't it?

Deja stayed out in the hall, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed as she processed tonight. That was how she was when there suddenly came a loud bang within the room, followed by the sound of Dean all but screaming no.

Alert, Deja rushed back to the door, trying to open it but finding herself locked out. She grit her teeth, glaring at the door as she backed up slightly and then slammed against the wood. Her arm lit up in pain, but she ignored it, fueled by the shouts of pain she could hear inside as she rammed into it again, again...

"Come on!" she shouted as she rammed into the door with everything she had, the door flying inwards and ricocheting against the wall with astounding force and finally letting her in. She registered blood, Sam and Dean lying on the ground with new daeva claw marks being carved into their flesh, John's cries of pain mingling with Dean's as one of the daevas ripped into Dean like a cat playing with a mouse, complete with Dean being tossed about by each swipe, be it a few feet or simply rolled over with great force.

Deja tore her gaze from the sight, lunging for the duffel and reaching in until she felt the flares Sam had shoved into their duffel bag.

That's right, she'd been taking stock of the weapons they had as well.

"Shut your eyes!" she shouted as she rolled onto her back, eyes squeezed shut, feeling a daeva's unrelenting claw rip across her stomach just before she lit the flare in her hand, washing the room in so much light the daeva's were banished. Her arm was on fire, all the nerves in her abdomen area screaming at her, but she slammed the flare on the ground, making her way to where she'd seen Sam go down. Once she felt his arm, she gave it a tight squeeze. "Sam, you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," He grunted, though she could hear the pain laced through his voice. He was tough, though, so if he said he would be fine he would be fine.

"Get your duffel-that way," she told him, pulling him behind her so he was on the right path to the duffel. Next, she made her way in the direction she'd last seen Dean, using the end-table Sam had been lying by as her guide for where in the room she was. "Dean?"

"I'm here," he gasped, a foot off to her right. She turned, reaching out and feeling his clothes slick with his own blood, hand traveling north to feel a wickedly deep, pulsing, bloody set of gashes on his face, which made her grimace and her heartbeat speed up before her hand traveled south again, trying to get his arm around her shoulder.

"Come on, we have to move," she told him, the two of them struggling to their feet together as Dean leaned into Deja for support.

"Dad," Dean grunted as they managed to get to their feet.

"No way in hell we're leaving him, don't worry, we can get him, too," Deja reassured him around coughs, eyes still squeezed shut and no idea where in the room John was.

"Dad!" Dean called louder, coughing as he inhaled smoke from the flare.

"Over here!" John called, and Deja and Dean staggered their way in the direction of John's voice. Deja found him first, her foot thumping into his leg, and she reached down, finding his hand reaching up towards her. Dean and Deja leaning against each other, they managed to steady each other enough to haul John to his feet, and Deja slung his arm around her shoulder on her other side, letting Dean and John feel the way out while she supported them, doing her best to ignore her own injuries and get the two oldest Winchesters out.

All of them were practically coughing up lungs as the flare's smoke rapidly filled the room, but they managed to stumble out of the hotel room, Sam occasionally calling out to them from in front, leading the way out. Once they were a decent way's down the hall, Deja allowed herself to open her eyes, looking at the two Winchesters she was helping down the stairs in a mad rush to the exit.

They were both covered in blood, John with more claw marks than Dean, but Dean with deeper, bloodier cuts in multiple places. And the gashes across his face were as horrendous as they felt-Deja could only hope for his sake that they wouldn't scar.

But maybe she could help with that...

Not right now, she told herself. One step at a time-get them out first.

The group stumbled out into the clear night air, headed right around the corner into the alley where Dean had parked the Impala earlier-Rosanne was across the street in front of one of the little shops. Once they reached the Impala, Sam threw the duffel into the back seat of the car.

"All right, come on," Sam panted as Deja supported the heavily injured John and Dean, her grip on Dean perhaps a little tighter than it needed to be. "We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Dean said, breathing still heavy as he fought for Sam's attention. "Sam...wait."

Dean's resigned tone concerned Deja, and she turned to look at him, worried about what he was about to propose. Dean leaned around her, looking past her to his father.

"Dad...you can't come with us."

"What?" Sam exclaimed, already furious, though Dean wasn't looking at anyone but John right now, blood streaming down his face from multiple sources. "What are you talking about?"

"You boys...you're beat to hell," John protested. Deja kept her gaze on Dean as his two relatives fought against what he was proposing, her supportive grip on the eldest Winchester son tightening. He glanced at her with just a flicker of gratitude at the silent gesture before turning his full attention back to his father and younger brother.

"We'll be all right," Dean assured him.

"Dean! We should stick together! We'll go after this demon-" Sam started to rail, but Dean cut him off as John carefully pulled away from Deja's supporting arm, weaving slightly but staying on his own two feet. That allowed Deja to focus more on supporting Dean, who was hunched over and leaning heavily on her for support. She wrapped her now free arm across his chest, mindful of his injuries as she helped him stand straighter, hand splayed against his chest-which was as slick with blood as his face, unfortunately.

"Sam, listen to me!" Dean nearly shouted, holding his brother's gaze with a determined set to his jaw despite his current state. "We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not going to stop. They're gonna try again-they're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's...he's stronger without us around."

The tremble in Dean's voice had Deja's supportive grip constricting slightly around him in a subconscious hug, and one of Dean's bloody hands raised to gently grasp her wrist. Whether it was in gratitude for the gesture, to stop the gesture, or simply to gain more stability in his weakened state, she didn't know, but he didn't forcibly pull her away, so she remained clinging to him, holding him up, supporting his weight, feeling her hands slowly get slicker from his blood...

"Dad..." Sam asked as he turned to John who, when Deja glanced at him, seemed to agree with Dean. Sam grasped his father's uninjured shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "No."

Dean looked away at the gesture, at his younger brother who had such a rocky relationship with their father, pled with John not to leave.

And just hours before Dean had stated how deeply he wanted their family whole again, together again...and here he was having to be the one to make the hard decision for their own safety and demand they go their separate ways again.

Deja rested her head against Dean's, which caused him to turn into her instead of away, still not looking as Sam pleaded with John in front of them.

"After everything, after all the time we spent looking for you, please," Sam begged as John reached up to grasp his youngest son's hand. "I've got to be a part of this fight."

"Sammy, this fight is just starting," John told him calmly, drawing everyone's attention. "And we are all going to have a part to play...For now, you've got to trust me, son. Okay? You've got to let me go."

Everyone's attention shifted to Sam, who seemed ready to deny separating from John yet again. Dean's gaze slowly slipped from Sam to John as he shifted to see them again in Deja's supportive side-embrace, leaning heavily against her, head resting against hers and smearing blood across her face-not that she cared. Slowly, Sam nodded, reluctantly accepting that John had to part ways with them, he had to go. Once he'd finally accepted it, Sam clasped John's shoulder one last time before letting his hand drop away.

John looked at both his bloody and injured boys for a few long moments, locking eyes with Deja long enough to give her a nod and a look that said take care of them, or else, before he limped by towards the truck that was parked further in the alley.

"I'll drive behind you two-once you think we're far enough out, you stop at the first motel you see so I can stitch you up, I mean it," Deja said quietly to Dean-whose breathing was erratic, like he was holding back emotions she could see in his expression even if his face was covered in his blood-as she helped him towards the door of the Impala.

"Understood," he said quietly, his usual...well...Dean, missing from his voice. No fight, no flirty tone, no playfulness, no sarcasm, nothing, just echoing resignation as he accepted an order.

But she understood why.

John paused by the driver's side of the truck, looking back at his boys again, Sam standing by the Impala's passenger side, Dean supported by Deja at the driver's side. "Be careful, boys," he said in parting before climbing into the truck.

"Come on," Dean murmured to Sam and Deja, and after Dean had opened the door Deja helped him inside, all of them watching as John's truck pulled away before Deja turned back to Dean, backing away from the door. She didn't grab at her abdomen, hoping to pass it off as their blood long enough she could make sure they were all right before tending to her smaller number of lesser wounds.

"First motel...I mean it," Deja said, though there wasn't any threat to her voice before she turned and hurried across the street to Rosanne. The Impala pulled out of the alley as she started her car, easing out of her parking spot and falling into place behind the Impala as it peeled away, Chicago quickly disappearing behind them at record speeds.