— 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝟐, 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏𝟒 —

TIME HAD FLOWN SINCE THEY'D MET THE WINCHESTERS FACE TO FACE. One week soon turned to four as a month passed by; however, their work back at the bureau had only grown more hectic. Although Tess had taken care of most of the paperwork, Lila was having a hard time keeping all of the building secrets under wraps. She didn't like lying, not really. But it certainly felt like she'd been doing it all her life.

"Watson."

"Hmm..." Lila turned her head toward the end of the long table within the debriefing room. Tess was out catching a lead on another case, and had been for the past two days, which left Lila in charge of debriefing Henriksen for the fifth time since they'd returned from Nowhere. The other agent just couldn't seem to accept that the Winchester case had gone cold despite being shown evidence of proof.

"If we're boring you—"

"Rough night," Lila interjected standing up from the table by pushing out her chair. "I didn't sleep much last night considering I've been doing my job, working on relevant cases that have actual leads in the here and now. I suggest you move on, Agent Henriksen, because this obsession of yours is only going to get someone hurt."

"Plenty of people are going to get hurt until these Winchesters are behind bars," Henriksen contradicted.

Lila yawned. Although it wasn't on purpose, it certainly proved her point. "Well, let me know if you learn anything new."

Then she turned and walked out the door. Once free of the debriefing room, she immediately pulled her phone from her pocket and checked her messages. She released a frustrated sigh at the lack of notifications.

"Come on, Boy Scout," she muttered. "Where are you?"

It had been a week since she'd heard from him. And although she knew he kept busy with hunts and what-not, he'd been pretty consistent with messaging her every couple of days. She'd heard nothing since he gave her a heads up about their latest in West Texas.

She slipped the phone back into the pocket of her pantsuit, but her heart leapt as she felt it vibrate. She pulled it back out just as quickly, but deflated a smidge when she recognized the caller ID belonging to her sister.

"Hey." It was almost like Lila could feel her sister frowning on the other side of the phone. "Something wrong?"

"You just answered the phone normally," Tess replied. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Henriksen," she said the name with disdain and a slight shudder. "He's chasing down the Winchester case... again."

"That surprised you?" Tess questioned.

Lila shook her head—even though the motion wouldn't be seen—then sighed. "No, but I am irritated."

"Now I almost feel bad about leaving you behind to catch up on paperwork," Tess chuckled from her end of the phone.

"You should," Lila agreed. "You didn't even bat an eyelash at the puppy dog stare."

"I think I'm finally growing immune," Tess replied with self-satisfaction. "I guess you're just gonna have to get creative."

"That's a dangerous suggestion," Lila warned. "So, what'd you want to talk about?"

Tess took a deep breath and there was several seconds of tense silence. That was how Lila knew it was serious. Tess only ever hesitated to share information if (1) it was meant to be a delightful surprise: like Cedar Point, or (2) it was bad news: which Lila had a sneaking suspicion was the case.

"Dad called."

Lila winced. Any other time she would've considered that great news; however, from her sister's monotonous tone and her knowledge of the events that had transpired through their family just a couple of years ago... well it was safe to assume that Tess and their father weren't on the best of terms yet.

"I doubt it was a check-in," Lila repeated her internal thoughts. Personally, she was thrilled whenever their father reached out, perhaps a bit disappointed and a little jealous that he'd called Tess instead of her, but she also knew Tess felt differently. It had probably been a good four years since she last saw her father. She had moved out at nineteen, following Tess to D.C. where they'd both studied and trained to join the F.B.I. She'd only been on the task force for a little while, but her hunting skills were certainly put to good use. This had led to numerous promotions and the sisters' shared title as the youngest agents with the most potential.

"You'd be right," Tess agreed. "He said there was trouble brewing back home and that he could use our help handling a case involving a couple of old family friends."

"Which one's?" Lila asked. "Did Uncle Rufus find himself in another ditch he can't climb out of on his own?"

"He wouldn't say," Tess replied. "Said we probably wouldn't remember 'em as we were pretty young the last time we'd seen 'em."

"It must be a pretty big deal then if he's not willing to give a name," Lila noted. "It's not like him to keep secrets..."

"Uh huh..." Tess disagreed with a scoff. "Do you not remember our entire childhood? The man's secrets have secrets. Just when you thought you'd learned 'em all, there was another hidden room behind a bookcase or a bunker in the basement. You remember how long it took him to tell us the whole truth about mom, right? And that was only after most of our nightmares had gotten so bad, we thought we were going insane."

"I guess we're headed back home then," Lila said, less than subtly hiding her own glee.

Tess sighed on the other end of the phone. "Yeah... I'm still an hour or so from the office, so finish up your paperwork and I'll call Henriksen to let him know that we're 'working another case' since you dealt with him this morning."

"Thanks, Tess!" Lila grinned. Had her sister been present, she would've fallen victim to those baby blue puppy dog eyes that Lila had mastered. Being one of the youngest kids—especially being the youngest daughter—she'd learned how to manipulate her expressions to get what she wanted. It wasn't always meant as devious or nefarious, but it had been enough to earn the young girl a cone of strawberry ice cream every once in a while even after their father had insisted they had food at home—often forgetting that beer wasn't an option for five-year-olds.

The memory of her youth was fond. She hadn't really been forced into the hunting life. Like her sister before her, she had chosen to follow her role models. There was no dark purpose. There was no need for vengeance or closure. She just wanted to be like her big sister. She didn't want to be left alone. But since she'd been much younger than the others, the nightmares were less frequent—nightmares about their family past anyway. However, her dreams were extremely vivid about events she'd never seen though, involving people that seemed to be complete strangers; but those dreams were a bit different now as someone new had made an appearance on more than one occasion.

Sam Winchester was certainly far from a Boy Scout in comparison to his track record. He wasn't dangerous though. Well... he was dangerous, just not when with her. At least that's what she assumed from their one face-to-face encounter. He had all of the instincts of a killer, but his soul was soft—matching the color of his eyes and volume of his hair. Of course she'd touched it, it was impossible not to as it was like placing a kitten in front of a child. Although she didn't have any definitive proof aside from what she saw in his eyes, this had always been enough for her in the past and it was enough for her now.

Even from a young age she could tell a good seed from the bad. She had yet to be wrong, and the interaction with both Twitch and the Winchesters just proved her little quirk to be true. She liked to consider it her special skill, something that set her apart from her siblings and made her feel unique. Something difficult to find when at the bottom of the totem pole in a large family. It wasn't extraordinary, but she thought of it like a spider-sense when it came to knowing who to trust: and Sam Winchester was someone she could trust... and had been for the past month as she kept in close contact, sometimes texting for hours on end or just a brief message to keep the other up-to-date at other times.

In Tess's words: it was simply good business. She had yet to see a downside to keeping in touch. It meant less paperwork for her and less exposure for him. But, in the words of Delilah Joan Singer... she'd made a friend. And with that thought, all of the worry she'd forgotten had returned. She glanced back at her phone—realizing that Tess had hung up sometime in the last minute or so—then frowned as her notifications remained silent.

She considered sending another message. Her fingers hovered over the digital keyboard for a solid five minutes before she clicked off the phone and slid the device back into her pocket. The creases of her frown only deepened as she turned her attention toward the mountain of paperwork on her desk.

"Cheese," she 'swore' under her breath. "Curse you past Lila for making this present Lila's problem... although... it could be future Lila's problem."

She pursed her lips in thought. She lifted her head above the cubicle—which she may or may not have been kneeling on her swivel chair to do— and glanced around the room. When absolutely certain no one was looking, she swept the papers into her filing cabinet of unmarked papers and closed the drawer, locking it for good measure. She then gathered her supplies and headed for the door, stopping just long enough to buy two Rockstars from the vending machine downstairs on her way out.

"Catch a lead?" Henriksen asked, curious as to why she might be leaving as she'd only come in a few hours ago. Lila frowned. It was almost as if someone had gone to the bathroom and chanted the agent's name three times to summon him. An act she was growing tired of as she had no intention of interacting with him more than once in the same day.

"Different case," Lila continued her pattern of half-truths. "I can debrief you when I get back if you'd like, but it doesn't have any connections to the Winchester case. I'm still assuming that's the only one on your plate?"

Henriksen's lips tightened. And just like that the conversation had ended. He eyed the younger agent like he had something else to say, but he kept silent. Apparently he'd finally learned that the red one could be just as sarcastic when not with her blonde partner. The two looked like Yin and Yang when paired side-by-side, but individually they were more alike than anyone realized. Lila—otherwise referred to as Joan Watson—was not as sweet as her darling smile suggested, and Tess—the infamous Charlotte Holmes—wasn't always as cold as her broken walls eluded. They were unpredictable. They were dangerous—in more ways than anyone realized because while that conversation was ongoing, the redhead was definitely recalling all of the sensitive pressure points to knock someone unconscious should she need to rapidly end the conversation.

As Henriksen walked away, and the familiar timbre of Harrison's horn beckoned her from outside, Lila grinned. She rushed out the door, jogged through the parking garage—playfully sticking her tongue out at the camera in the corner as her daily farewell to Jim the security monitor—then slid into the passenger seat of the Ford and offered Tess one of the energy drinks in her hand.

Tess released a tired, but delighted laugh. "You are the best! This is why you're my favorite."

"Ha! I knew I was your favorite!" Lila cheered and jabbed a fist into the air. "Suck it, Drew!"

"Woah," Tess's eyes widened then she laughed. It was probably the closest she'd heard her sister come to swearing or saying anything semi-promiscuous at all. "Long day at work? Also... let's be honest, Drew's probably done enough sucking for an entire lifetime, I wouldn't encourage anymore."

"Ew! Tess, gross." Lila whined, tossing her head back with a light laugh as she popped open her can and took a sip. Even though she was focused on pulling out of the garage, Tess still managed to swipe the drink from her sister and take a swig. Lila frowned blatantly inconvenienced. "That one was mine."

Tess laughed and shook her head. "You're a hyper little fox without this stuff. You really don't need anymore energy."

Lila crossed her arms in a soft pout, but discreetly opened the other can—the one originally for her sister—and proceeded to sip from it. Tess was too distracted by the road and her own thoughts to notice, so Lila considered it a win with a silent cheer. She slipped the half-full can in the side of the door while Tess placed her half-empty can in the center console.

"So..." she drew out the word to gently break the lingering silence. "Did Dad give any information about the case itself?"

Tess's eyes narrowed as she stared out at the road. Her knuckles whitened as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She took a breath then shook her head. "We're flying in blind."

"Ah, so it's really no different than our last couple of cases," Lila noted.

Tess only seemed to grow more irritated by that comment. "We didn't have much of a choice then. He's blatantly keeping information to himself."

"Like you did in Sandusky?" Lila asked. "Or what about Providence? Tess, you've been pretty hesitant to share relevant information about our cases for the last month or so. I mean, you didn't even catch me up on the conversation you overheard in Milwaukee."

"That's—"

"Different?" Lila interrupted, crossing her arms as she slouched back in her seat. "Knew you'd think so, but it's not. Not really. I don't know how much you remember about our talk following the Providence incident since you were pretty tired, but you promised to stop treating me like a kid."

"You took a serial killer out on a date right after we'd had that talk," Tess retorted.

"Only that's just it. The Winchesters weren't serial killers. They're hunters, like you and me—"

Tess laughed with a scoff and quickly shook her head. "They are not like you and me. We keep our hands clean, and I'd like them to stay that way. So, I'd appreciate it if you stopped talking to that Winchester boy you're always texting."

Lila's mouth opened, but before she could try and contradict the truth, she released a tired sigh. She didn't want to lie anymore. Not to the most important people in her life. "How'd you know?"

"You weren't exactly subtle," Tess replied. "And remember, it's my job to know secrets."

"So you're spying on me now?" Lila asked, lips pursing into a frown.

"For a good reason apparently." Tess nodded. She hadn't diverted her eyes from the road, but the action wasn't due to guilt. In fact, Lila could see no remorse in her eyes whatsoever.

"He's not a bad guy," Lila muttered under her breath, sinking lower in her seat while her arms remained crossed. She turned her eyes toward the window where the clouds drifted through the sky above. A small smile tugged at her lips as she saw a rabbit take shape, but then she remembered she was supposed to be frustrated and wiped the smile from her face. "I've trusted my intuition, and I haven't been wrong yet."

"You can't blindly trust this stroke of good luck," Tess contradicted, briefly glancing over at her sister. Noticing the deflated look on her face, she sighed. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Yeah... I know..."

The rest of the car ride was silent to Sioux Falls, which concerned Tess though she'd never admit it aloud. They'd passed over a dozen farmhouses and fields filled with animals, but never once did the redhead perk up and gasp while calling out "cow!" or "look at all the horsies!". The action was childish, and usually distracting as she drove, but Tess found that she missed it in its absence.

There was a slight shift in emotions as they pulled off the main road and followed the gravel path through the columns of cars and machine parts. Tess turned down the volume of the music she'd had blaring and frowned at how quiet things seemed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard such silence from the salvage yard. It was unnerving to say the least.

However, Lila had found something else that piqued her interest. Poking out from the backside of the house, the sleek black body of a '67 Chevy impala could be seen. Now it could have just been coincidence, but her trusty intuition was telling her something different. She glanced over in the direction of her sister, but the paranoid look in the blonde's eyes made her reconsider revealing her discovery. Then deciding she didn't want another undeserved lecture, she snapped her fingers and gestured with her head toward the car.

"Looks like dad's got company."

The creases of Tess's frown downturned further and deepened. Without warning, she reached behind her back and unholstered the .45 she never went anywhere without. Lila mirrored the action, pulling out her own gun—even if she thought it unnecessary, then followed her sister up the steps of the porch of their childhood home.

The smell of nostalgia instantly wafted through the air—a combination of salt, grease, and car oil. Although most would be irritated by the creak of the front door opening, Lila was secretly elated. Moments from her childhood flashed before her eyes like phantoms in the wind. Little spectral images that skipped and danced through the halls. Little boys and girls chasing each other over a game of tag or simple teasing. She smiled and giggled under her breath, briefly closing her eyes to take it all in. She didn't care if she received an off look from her sister. She was home.

"Dad!" Lila hollered, completely ignoring the protocol ingrained in her mind as she immediately holstered her weapon and pushed past her sister. Home. That was the only word on her mind, replaying itself over and over again like a small child chanting for ice cream. She showed no preservation, only a strong need to revert back into the child that belonged within these wall. "Dad, I'm—we're home!"

Bobby Singer stepped around the corner, and through his gruff exterior, a single corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. He opened his mouth, but hesitated as he and his older daughter made eye contact. Tess had yet to put her gun away, keeping it lowered but ready with two hands. Their father eyed the weapon while his lips returned to that disapproving resting face they both knew well.

"Would you put that damn thing away?"

Tess mirrored his expression, but listened, falling back into the ways of an obedient child. "Could you tell us what was so important that you pulled us away from a case over several state lines? I was in Wisconsin when you called which would have been fine if I didn't have to drive all the way back to D.C. to pick up my partner."

"I didn't know how many of your little buddies might be listening on the other end. So sue me," Bobby replied. "Now do you want to see what I called about or not?"

Tess nodded her head and held out a hand, implying he should take the lead. Bobby turned on his heels and walked back into the room he'd just left. Tess and Lila offered one another a simple glance before following after their father: Tess first, then Lila.

They entered the next room, and although it hadn't formally been off-limits when they were kids, they'd known better than to mess around in the room with bookshelves lining the walls and weapons strung like decorations. The sisters glanced at one another again, only this time more concerned than the last. No one actually addressed the elephant in the room: that being the unconscious man tied to a chair in front of the fireplace. It was difficult to recognize the guy as his longer brown hair flopped in front of his face. However, it was the circle drawn in chalk beneath the chair that was the most concerning.

"I searched through half-a-dozen shelves, Bobby, and I'm still not sure this is the book you're looking for," Dean said, announcing his presence as he entered the room from the kitchen. "I don't see why you couldn't go and grab it for yourself—"

"Hands where I can see them!" Tess shouted, pulling out her .45 without hesitation. Her eyes narrowed and trained on the man she'd hoped to never see again.

Surprised, Dean dropped the book and the beer he'd been carrying as he held his hands out defensively. The bottle immediately shattered, yet the puddle that formed stopped inches from the paper edges of the book. Lila glanced behind her shoulder to check on the unconscious demon. He stirred ever so slightly, but didn't wake.

"Woah!" Dean's eyes widened as he looked between Bobby and the girls. "What the hell, Bobby? You called the Feds?!"

Bobby looked extremely confused as he glanced between his daughters and surrogate son. "What are you going on about?"

Dean gestured toward Tess who had yet to lower her weapon, in fact, she gave Dean a warning look that declared she'd put a couple rounds through his chest if he tried anything.

"You called us to clean up another mess these boys created?" Tess questioned.

"Well it's nice to see you too, sweetheart." Dean rolled his eyes, but knew better than to move, especially as her finger twitched over the trigger while her lips twisted with disdain. However, he couldn't refrain from a slight jeer while his lips twisted into a smirk. "Is that strike four?"

"Don't tempt me," she spat between gritted teeth.

"That's right, apparently tempting's your thing," Dean fired back.

"Oh ho ho," Tess released a cold laugh. "You only wish I'd been genuine about that offer; only you wouldn't be able handle the heat."

Bobby whipped his head back and forth trying to keep track of the argument. He glanced over at Lila who simply shrugged, appearing just as lost only so that she wouldn't be dragged into the conversation. Bobby sighed, dragging his palm down the front of his face.

"I'm sorry, who drugged who?" Dean retorted with a rhetorical question.

"Enough," Bobby silenced the argument. He glanced over at the brunet in the chair before gesturing toward the arguing pair. "Kitchen. Now."

Lila had a bad feeling. A pit in her stomach if you will, but it had nothing to do with the argument, or the tension between her sister and her father, or the beer seeping into the hardwood floor, or the weathered book that she'd picked up when no one was watching, or the demon tied to a chair in the middle of their living room. Apparently, she was the only one concerned by the absence of the younger Winchester.

As her father, and sister, and Dean Winchester begrudgingly entered the kitchen, Lila cast one last look over her shoulder at the demon. She shuddered, remembering her latest experience with such a monster, then followed after her family. Once inside, Bobby closed the sliding door behind her.

"What is wrong with you two?" Bobby hissed. Tess and Dean both offered Bobby a look that said 'he/she started it'; however, he wasn't about to put up with their combined sass. He held up a hand then gestured to the loaded weapon in his daughter's hand. "I thought I told you to holster that damn thing. I don't need you shooting anyone's eye out."

Tess frowned, but once again listened, holstering the weapon. "This asshole is on the FBI's most wanted list, but sure let's just let him prance around our home like it's no big deal."

"Seriously, Bobby," Dean seemed to agree with Tess just on the opposite end of the spectrum. "Since when do we involve the actual Feds on a case? You said we could handle this."

"Dealing with demons ain't no monster-of-the-week special, boy," Bobby reprimanded. He then turned toward Tess as if to offer an explanation. "Now I wouldn't have called, but Drew's out of the country on some fool's gold errand, Jr's got his own problems, the youngest one decided he wanted to run off to med school, and Pete—"

"You tried to call Pete?" Tess bristled and her eyes narrowed.

"He didn't pick up," Bobby finished his statement, speaking a bit slower than before.

"I swear, if you try to bring him back into this, Dad, I'm gonna—"

"Dad?" Dean's brow furrowed in confusion while his eyes widened and darted between father and daughter. "What is going on here?"

"What's wrong with you?" Bobby asked, looking around the room as if everyone had suddenly lost the ability to think. "You idjits act like you've never met before."

Dean scoffed. "Oh, we've met. But she didn't exactly share the whole truth about who she was."

"Because you're the 'King of Cool'," Tess scoffed, crossing her arms while referring to the alias he'd used to introduce himself. "But if we want to get technical, 'Charlotte Holmes' can be found on all my legal documents since it's more than just a one-time alias."

"Glad to know you lie everywhere," Dean retorted. "And not just when you feel like taking advantage of people."

"I forget how young y'all were when John and I fell out," Bobby muttered under his breath. He then lifted his head and whistled to silence the room. "Theresa, the Winchesters are old family friends. Now would you drop the hostility? These boys are practically family."

"So... like are we all friends now?" Lila finally piped up. "Because I've got a couple of questions—"

"Theresa?" Dean repeated the name as if it were familiar. Recognition slowly clicked in his eyes. "Tess—Little Tessie—Mudpie girl?!"

A similar look flashed across Tess's face. A series of emotions popped up: disbelief, frustration, disdain, and then amusement. She laughed coldly. "If you're hungry, I'm more than willing to shove your face in the dirt—"

Tired of being ignored, Lila snapped. "Where's Sam?!"

The others turned toward her, and Tess nodded in agreement as her brow furrowed, finally recognizing the giant absence from the room. Bobby extended his hand, reaching for the book that Lila had grabbed from the other room.

"And that's the other half of the problem I called about," Bobby replied.

"Sam's strapped out there to the chair," Dean added, lips tightened while his eyes flickered with rage—rage no longer directed toward Tess but the demon in the living room.

Lila slowly shook her head and muttered under her breath, no less worried than before, "No wonder it didn't feel like him."

"So what's the book for?" Tess questioned.

"Exorcism," Bobby replied with a single word, tapping one of the pages twice with his pointer finger once he found what he'd been looking for.

"Well, that would have been pretty useful in Providence," Lila noted, innocently recalling their last demonic experience once more. "Then we could have just exorcised Twitch and he wouldn't be a problem. Hey! Do you think his name is Twitch, or the host body is named that? Or do demons just adopt the name of their host over time?"

Bobby blinked. "You two fought a demon?"

"More like encountered," Tess corrected on a slight technicality almost appearing sheepish, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "It's not like we sought it out."

Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose, revealing just where Tess had picked up the habit from. "I thought we agreed that when the two of you went out on your own, you wouldn't go hunting down demons. Now, I expected this from the boys, but you two? I thought you had a lick of common sense—"

"Could we deal with the demon that's currently possessing my brother?" Dean asked, butting his way back into the conversation to refocus the group. "And deal with the family drama later?"

Bobby nodded, pulling the book a bit tighter to his chest with one hand while opening the sliding door with the other. "Let's go wake Sleeping Beauty."

Dean showed little reservation as he stormed across the room toward his brother. It was then that Lila noticed several small things just from his movement that she'd missed previously. Like the way his left shoulder moved a bit more rigid than his right. With a quick backhand, Dean slapped Sam awake.

"Hey."

Sam blinked a few times, either to clear the grogginess from his head or aid the numbing pain of his wake-up call. Lila quickly forced herself to remember that it wasn't actually Sam sitting in the chair, just another monster—like the one that took her mom. Sam looked up then down at the ground where the Devil's Trap was painted beneath his chair. However, his facial features relaxed into a puppy dog look—one that Lila herself had perfected—the second he noticed the Singer sisters in the room.

"Joan?" Sam asked. Lila's nose wrinkled. It was his voice, sure, but there was something off about the way he'd said her name that was unmistakably 'not Sam'. "I don't understand. What's going on?"

"That's enough you black-eyed, soul stealer," Dean snarled, taking a step forward as if threatening another backhand. "You're not fooling anyone."

Sam's expression dead-panned and a look of annoyance crossed his face. "Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach."

"How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?" Dean snapped.

"Oh, careful, now," Sam chuckled sadistically. "Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging."

"Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt Sam much." Dean grinned, but his eyes screamed murder. He then turned to pick up a bucket, pausing just long enough to taunt before splashing the demon with holy water. "You, on the other hand..."

Sizzling filled the air with a faint sign of smoke as the creature screamed in pain. If there was any doubt that Sam wasn't himself, it was now long gone as the demon's presence was fully confirmed.

"Feel like talking now?" Dean asked, quickly losing patience.

"Sam's still my meat puppet," the demon reminded them. "I'll make him bite off his tongue."

Dean shook his head. "No, you won't be in him long enough. Bobby."

Bobby stepped forward, reading a string of Latin from the book that Dean had originally retrieved for him. "ExorciSamus te, omnes in mundus spiritus omnes satanica potestas, omnes incursio..."

Dean leaned over so that he was mere inches from his brother's face. As Bobby continued to chant, the older Winchester made his vengeance known. "See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up? You're not getting Sam. You understand me? Because I'm gonna kill every one of you first."

The demon struggled and its pain reflected onto Sam's face. However, the moment passed and the demon threw back its head with a cackle. Surprised, Bobby briefly cut himself off.

"You really think that's what this is about?" the demon rhetorically asked. "The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan."

Bobby took a breath then tried once more to finish the exorcism. "Humiliares sub potente magnu dei..."

"Oops," the demons interrupted with a coy grin. "Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." It lowered its head before growling in Latin almost like it was mocking Bobby. "Spiritus in mundus un glorum suarum umitite palatum iram domine..."

The fire behind Sam flared and the room shook as the demon continued to chant. Unlike Bobby's southern twang, the demon's chant was low and guttural. Lila couldn't help but cover her ears to block out how ill the sound made her feel. Tess protectively stepped to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder for comfort, while once more pulling out her .45.

Dean reactively shot her a look that warned her against shooting his brother. He then turned toward Bobby, seeking an answer. "This isn't going like I pictured! What's going on, Bobby?"

Bobby's eyes widened with alarm as he noticed the burn mark along Sam's forearm. He was quick to point it out. "It's a binding link! It's like a lock! It's locked himself inside Sam's body!"

"What the hell do we do?" Dean asked.

"I don't know!" Bobby admitted, shouting back at the same volume that Dean had questioned him with.

"I've got a suggestion," Tess added her own two-cents, raising her gun a bit higher as if she were actually considering pulling the trigger.

Dean opened his mouth to object, but it was Lila that stopped her from acting. She'd lowered her hands just in time to hear the end of Tess's implicit suggestion then placed her now free hands on the gun to lower her sister's aim. "No... there's got to be another way."

Sam threw back his head again. His scream shook the walls, cracking the ceiling which consequently broke the protective circle on the ground. With a twist of his neck, Sam lowered his head, revealing the pair of solid black eyes belonging to his demon possessor.

"There." Demon-Sam sighed. "That's better."

He then jerked his head left and Bobby went flying. Lila gasped, but Tess pulled her sister back just as the demon jerked its head right, sending Dean heavily against the far wall. The holy water flask fell from his hand just as Sam ripped himself free from the restraint.

He turned his head toward the sisters with a chuckle. "If only I were capable of touching Heaven's little miracles... only I'm not looking for a war. So why don't you just be a couple of good girls and stay out of trouble?"

Receiving only silence, Demon-Sam nodded to himself with satisfaction before stalking over to Dean. "You know when people want to describe the worse possible thing? They say it's like hell."

He knelt down in front of Dean, clutching Dean's shirt with his left hand before clocking him hard with a right jab. Dean grabbed into Sam's shirt with his right hand and spat, but the demon didn't let him recover. "You know there's a reason for that. Hell is like, um—"

He hit Dean again.

"—Well, it's like hell. Even for demons."

Sam didn't even offer him the chance to catch his breath. He proceeded to hit Dean over and over again, giving the hunter a groggy head and a bloody nose. He only stopped long enough to continue his taunt. "It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear."

He grabbed Dean by the head, holding it steady as he knelt down and spoke between gritted teeth. "And you sent me back there."

Dean spat and sneered. "Meg."

"No. Not anymore. Now I'm Sam." Meg chuckled as she hit Dean one last time before using Sam's right thumb to dig in the bullet wound she'd given the hunter earlier that evening. She continued to jeer, glancing over her shoulder to share the incoming blow. "By the way. I saw your Dad there—Mama Singer too— they say 'howdy'."

Tess bristled. Lila blinked. She didn't know this demon—she'd hardly known her own mother—but that didn't change the fact that no one had the right to speak poorly of the Singer matriarch or even imply that she deserved to be in such a bad place.

Meg dug Sam's fingers deeper into Dean's wound. The hunter tried to pry his brother's hand away, groaning in pain as it failed to work. "All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day, and that I was going to torture you, nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect."

Although quivering with rage, Tess was frozen in place. Either fearful of how moving might affect her father and sister, or simply stuck in a moment of deja vu. Lila, on the other hand, brought herself back to her feet. While the demon was preoccupied with Dean—using the full extent of its power to keep Bobby pressed up against the other wall while brutally beating the other hunter like a piece of slapstick comedy—Lila inched along the outskirt of the room toward the edge of the fireplace.

"But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you'll do to yourself, is it?" Meg asked without really expecting an answer. "I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, and deep down you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you."

Demon-Sam reared back, prepared to strike Dean once more, but Lila was suddenly at his side. She grabbed his arm, twisting it enough to reveal the mark while adjusting her grip on the hot, iron poker in her other hand. "You need a snickers bar!"

Without thinking, only reacting, she pressed the hot poker against Sam's arm into the mark. The demon screamed in anguish, morphing with the more natural sound of Sam's voice. A cloud of black smoke billowed from his mouth then fled up the chimney. The demon was gone. Sam fell back onto the ground. He scrambled back a bit, looking around in confusion before grabbing his arm as his face contorted with pain. A guilty look crossed Lila's face as she met his hazel eyes—eyes that were just purely Sam—while holding the source of his misery. As if it would do much, she sheepishly tried to hide the poker behind her back even though the sharp, glowing tip was still visible above her head.

Dean groaned and pulled himself up. "Sammy?"

Sam's confusion remained. "Did I miss anything?"

Without hesitation, Dean hooked Sam across the cheek then allowed his eyes to roll back inside his head as he collapsed against the ground. Sam's mouth widened as he silently mouthed his pain while clutching his cheek, all the more confused than before.

Bobby groaned then sighed as he stood, offering Sam a helping hand. "Let's get some ice on that arm before it blisters."

•⍟───✧⍟✦⍟✧───⍟•

THE GROUP OF FIVE SAT IN SILENCE AROUND THE KITCHEN TABLE. Sam sitting on one side, holding an ice bag on his arm. Dean on the other side, groggily holding an ice bag to his face. However, there was a tension between the group as they all looked at one another from a fresh perspective. Since the truth had been revealed, Dean and Tess had glared at one another like children, apparently their little feud went beyond the past month.

Meanwhile, Sam had yet to look up from the table or to make eye contact with the redhead sitting beside him. Furthermore, only Tess—unwavering in her staring contest—seemed to notice that Lila's eyes never left Sam's figure, almost as if she feared that in a single blink he would disappear altogether. Tired of the quiet, Bobby suddenly stood and pulled open the fridge door, gathering a pack of beers that were set out on the table once he'd chosen one for himself. He then left the room as a shrill ringing from one of the house phones echoed down the hall.

Sam cautiously broke the silence as he looked over at his brother. "By the way, you really look like crap, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "right back atcha."

Bobby walked back into the room, a look of concern plastered to his face as he stared off into space. Tess frowned. "What's wrong?"

"You boys ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?" Bobby hesitantly asked. Dean's expression remained steely while Sam visibly flinched. Tess nodded her head, but didn't follow up with any additional input.

"Why do you ask?" Dean replied with another question.

"Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead," Bobby answered. "Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that."

Dean shook his head. "No sir, never heard of the guy."

"Dean—"

"Good," Bobby interrupted with a pointed look at Sam. "Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?"

Tess pinched the bridge of her nose. "And there's another case with a final report that I'm going to have to falsify."

Bobby's brow lifted as he looked over at his daughter, having presumed that the conversation hadn't applied to her—only to be proven wrong. "Wandell's the case you left is Wisconsin?"

Tess slowly nodded her head as if the action were painful. "Like I said: another Winchester mess to be cleaned."

"Well, I think we've overstayed our welcome. We'd better hit the road." Dean cleared his throat as he stood then looked over at his brother. "If, uh, you can remember where we parked the car."

The was a bitter edge to his voice that Lila picked up on. Clearly that car meant quite a bit to the older Winchester, and suddenly she was wondering how he'd reacted back in Nowhere when they'd slashed the impala's tires to keep the boys from making a run for it.

"Here. Take these." Bobby extended his hands, offering each of the boys a small metal charm.

Sam accepted the gift, but looked at it quizzically. "What are they?"

"Charms," Bobby replied matter-of-factly. "They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there; this'll stop it from getting back up in you."

Tess snickered and a smirk played at Dean's lips that he tried to hide. He also accepted the charm, clearing his throat again. "That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks."

"You're welcome." Bobby nodded his head, ignoring the childish behavior displayed by the elder siblings of the two families. "You boys be careful now."

"You too," Sam replied, a fondness in his eyes as he also offered an apologetic look to the Winchester father-figure.

At the door, Dean tossed his ice bag back to Bobby. He briefly paused almost as if considering a parting with the sisters, but frowned as Tess held up three fingers. Apparently their second truce was shorter than the first, following the same pattern as the blonde reminded Dean that she wasn't offering any more chances despite their family history. Although mostly concealed, Tess did notice the slight shudder of his shoulders—almost like he was recalling an assortment of memories where a blonde little girl, half his size, was shoving his face into the dirt. The memory itself made the corners of her lips tighten into a smug smile.

Sam turned to follow his brother out the door, but Lila reached across the table and grabbed his arm—albeit his injured one, the one she injured. She winced in unison as a sharp hiss escaped Sam's lips. He'd tried to act like it hadn't hurt, but failed miserably.

"Sorry," Lila whispered.

"It's fine." Sam grimaced.

Lila released his arm then directed her gaze toward the ground. She sighed before lifting his eyes to meet his, noticing how they looked more green in this lighting than the hazel hue she was familiar with. "Could we talk?"

"Talk or lie?" Sam questioned. It came out a bit harsher than intended, but he was physically and mentally drained. It really wouldn't take much to push him past his breaking point.

Lila winced. His words were like a dull knife, which hurt even more since she couldn't deny them. She could have handled shouting or yelling, but the tired look—represented by the bags under his eyes—alongside his soft but cold tone was so much worse.

"Talk," she answered simply rather than trying to come up with a witty retort. That was Tess's expertise anyway. She glanced over her shoulder, checking to see who all was still in the kitchen. Dean hadn't hesitated to search for his car; meanwhile, Tess and Bobby had started cleaning up in the next room over. Although it was only a few muttered words here and there, at least they were talking again. Which left Sam and Lila alone in the kitchen. She closed the sliding door and turned back toward Sam, mirroring his look of exhaustion. "I'm tired of lying... could we maybe start again?"

Sam pursed his lips, considering her request with more distrust than he had previously. "I don't know... who am I being introduced to today?"

Sam almost regretted saying anything at all as that hurt look crossed her face again. For a split second, he was stuck in the present and a memory as Joan—or whoever she actually was—merged with Jo. It was all too fresh. He quickly blinked and turned away from her, failing to realize that only made it worse.

Lila's lip quivered for a moment. She took a deep breath then stretched to place a hand on his shoulder. "I can explain if you'll let me."

He didn't turn around, but he did nod his head. He couldn't bring himself to face her baby blue doe eyes. He needed his mind to be sharp if he was to determine how much further his trust would extend only to be broken.

Lila sighed, a bit disappointed, but she also understood his preservation. "My name is Delilah Joan Singer. I lost my mom when I was barely a year old. I can't even remember what she looks like without a photo... Legally, my name is Joan Watson. Tess and I decided change our names to protect our family's past and preserve our own reputations before we joined the FBI. It just made things easier. It was like a fresh start... you understand that, don't you?"

It was like she'd described his entire life—with a couple of minor detail changes. He probably understood more than anyone else ever could. After all, what was Stanton but a fresh start away from the horrors of his childhood. He slowly turned to face her, two pairs of eyes glistening as they looked at one another.

"I understand if that doesn't change anything for you," Lila said, her voice barely above a whisper, "but if it counts for anything, I wasn't using you. Sure, there was less paperwork, but that wasn't why I kept in contact. Truth be told, I like talking to you... I was actually nervous you ghosted me when you dropped off the face of the planet last week."

Sam chuckled, slightly bitter, slightly amused. "This life doesn't present many opportunity for friends, does it?"

Lila shook her head, but a glimmer of hope had returned to her eyes. "It doesn't... but sometimes fate brings people together. It can't be coincidence that we've met face-to-face more than once now, right?"

Sam sighed in agreement, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling before chuckling under his breath as he looked down at the ground. He then faced her. "So... what should I call you? Delilah, Joan, Lil' Jo?"

"Only if I can call you 'Sammy'?" Lila replied with a mischievous grin. Sam's nose wrinkled. She laughed and a more natural smile relaxed her features. Maybe whatever bridge there'd been between them wasn't completely broken. At least he was still comfortable enough to make a few jokes and playful snide remarks. She then introduced herself for the third—maybe fourth—time since they'd first met. "The people who know the real me call me Lila."

"So, you want me to know the real you?" Sam asked, almost as if he still thought it were a trick.

She nodded her head, took his hand, and looked him in the eye. "Although, I think I've slowly been introducing you all along... because every side you've met is a version of me, one way or another. Which makes you pretty special since not many people get to see all of my different sides."

"Lucky me?"

"I guess we'll see." Lila shrugged. "Until next time, Boy Scout?"

Sam tried to look away, but failed to hide his smile. It added a youthful glow to his countenance as he chuckled under his breath. Although it took a moment, he nodded his head. "You've got my number, Gingersnap."

Lila's ear twitched and a curious look crossed her face as her smile shifted into a teasing gesture. "Gingersnap?"

Sam's eyes widened a light blush colored his cheeks. Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck, allowing his hair to fall in front of his eyes, perhaps trying to hide. "You mentioned using codenames, and I guess it slipped my mind—"

Lila quickly shook her head, her smile growing wider as she concealed a short giggle by covering her mouth with her hand. "I like it. It's cute... I just didn't take you for the nickname sort."

"Codename," Sam corrected, plastering a faux serious expression to his face.

"Right," Lila drew out the word before adding an obvious wink. And a second wink for good measure. "Gotta keep it professional."

"Do you have something in your eye?" Sam asked, his brow furrowing.

Maybe she'd been a bit too obvious with the gesture to the point that she looked like she was in pain. Like a flickering lightbulb, another sporadic thought cross her mind. "Oh! I've got your belt!"

Sam opened his mouth to comment, but closed it immediately as Lila flicked open the latch of the belt around her waist. As if pretending she were Indiana Jones, she whipped the belt free from the loops of her jeans before offering it toward the much taller hunter as if it were a prized possession.

"You... you just had that on you?"

"I cleaned it up," Lila replied, clearly not grasping his implication. "There's no blood on it: gingersnap, chimera, or other."

"Thanks..." Sam accepted the leather belt, almost placing it around his own waist before remembering that he was already wearing a belt. As if he didn't quite know what to do with it, he stood around for an awkward minute before wrapping the belt up into a loop.

"Anytime," Lila saluted, a gesture she'd seen her sister perform half-a-dozen times; however, it was a bit clumsy for her as a first-timer. She then glanced over her shoulder to ensure the door was still closed before leaning closer to Sam. "Don't forget you still owe me dinner."

"How about we start with coffee some other time?" Sam suggested with laugh. "And we'll say you owe me since I technically bought last time."

"It's a date," Lila agreed. Both individuals recognized that there could be a double-meaning in the phrase; however, rather than overreact or try to correct themselves—ultimately digging the pit deeper—they simply embraced what had been said. And that's when the interruptions ruined whatever soft moment was to follow.

From one side of the room, the sliding door rolled back and slammed into the wall. Tess and Bobby walked in, pausing briefly with matching quizzical looks on their faces as they noticed the atmosphere of the room they'd stepped into. From outside, Dean had clearly lost his patience but found his car. The horn blared in a series of short beeps before a long honk.

"Your ride is calling," Tess informed, but from her low tone it almost seemed like a threat as she spoke to Sam with narrowed eyes. And it most certainly was as she stepped in front of Lila, placing herself between the two.

"You boys be careful," Bobby repeated his parting from earlier, a look of suspicion crossing his eyes for a brief second as he glanced between Sam and his youngest daughter.

"You too," Sam replied, but his eyes remained focused on Lila. She smiled and nodded her head—all of which took place in a mere second before Sam jogged out the door and down the porch to join his brother in the impala.

Once the door was closed, Bobby turned toward her expectantly. "What was up with all the chitchat?"

"I just needed to clear a few things up," Lila replied. "He deserved some answers."

"That better be all you were givin' him," Bobby muttered under his breath as he walked toward the fridge, grabbing himself another beer—despite the disapproving glare cast in his direction by Tess. "I look at those boys like they're my own, but trouble doesn't stray far from that family tree."

Tess scoffed and muttered, "They're not the only ones."

Bobby shot her a warning look that suggested she keep her snide comments to herself. "Just don't go poking your noses into their business."

"I thought you said they were practically family?" A smug look of mischief sparkled in Tess's eyes.

"Practically," Bobby reiterated then scoffed. "They're good kids, but they're not nice boys."

Lila's brow furrowed as she tried to process what her father's paradoxical statement implied.

"I don't want you girls involved with those boys, hear me?" Bobby simplified his command. "If you're gonna settle down and tie the knot, it's not going to be with a couple of hunters."

"Yes, sir." Tess mockingly saluted. She'd lowered her voice as well, which wasn't appreciated by their father. However, Lila did find it humorous. Bobby simply pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something 'bout 'idjits' under his breath as he headed toward the study.

Tess kept her voice low as she leaned over to speak with her sister, keeping an eye on the open door at all times. "Remember our little conversation in the car earlier?"

Lila sighed with a nod of her head. Begrudgingly, she pulled out her phone and prepared to delete the contact she'd just restored. However, Tess shook her head.

"Forget it."

"Huh?"

"Forget what I said," Tess repeated. "You're not a kid anymore. Who am I to try and control who you're talking to or texting with? Heck, you've proven that your judgement is just as good as mine... if not better on the rare occasion."

"You mean it?" A small blossom of hope sprouted in her chest, each petal unfurling as she looked into her sister's eyes and saw nothing but the truth.

Tess nodded, wrapping an arm around her sisters shoulders as the two walked up the stairs toward their childhood bedroom. "Yeah. If we're really partners, I've got to trust you as an equal."

Lila paused. "This doesn't have anything to do with going against Dad, now does it?"

"I'll call that a side benefit," Tess admitted. "Now get some rest. We pretty much spent the entire day on the road, and I'm not looking forward to making that drive again anytime soon."

Lila nodded her head with a soft yawn, offering a quick goodnight before wandering down the hall toward her old bedroom. As she opened the door, the first thing she noticed is that nothing had changed. Four years and everything was right where she left it. The scent of nostalgia shifted briefly as she glanced over toward her little wooden dresser where a candle rested on the surface. It had been ages since she'd last lit it herself, but as little vanilla waves wafted around the room, she knew the room hadn't been completely undisturbed. Her lips pursed between a smile and a knowing look as she glanced back toward the door where her father sheepishly stood.

"Didn't want any spirits to come knocking on my door," Bobby muttered under his breath. It was obviously an allusion to the reason the young girl would light candles around the entire house—practically giving her father a heart attack—claiming that it would keep all the monsters away. If only it were that simple.

Lila's gaze softened and she rushed over to wrap her father in a hug she knew he'd never ask for. He stumbled back, a bit surprised, but after a tense few seconds her wrapped his arms around her, holding her close almost like he fear being left alone in that house.

"How long you kids planning to stick around for?" Bobby's question hesitantly broke the comfortable silence between them. "Because I haven't got much food in the fridge right now—"

"That's alright, Dad," Lila interrupted his little rant. She snuggled up closer and whispered in his ear. "I missed you too."

Bobby smiled down at the child so vastly different than him. The kid were her emotions on her sleeves, something he could never bring himself to do. Sure, he wasn't a robot, but his gruff exterior didn't tend to allow for many short mushy moments, even with his own kids. And maybe that's where he'd gone wrong. Sure, he'd made sure each of them had a childhood. They were kids for crying out loud. If he'd had it his way, none of them would've been dragged into the life in the first place. But they weren't the kind of family to sit down and discuss the things bothering them. Emotions we're bottled up and the monsters under their beds were handled with a shotgun rather than a nightlight. Bobby took a deep breath, but his exhale was broken. If Lila had noticed, she didn't say anything.

She was the one to break the hug though, stepping away while keeping her hand on the door. "I think we might stick around for a little while. As long as I can convince Tess to step away from work that is."

Bobby glanced over his shoulder. "She doesn't exactly look like she wants to be here."

"Oh that?" Lila wrinkled her nose and flipped her hand as if it were no big deal. "That's just Tess being Tess. She's always felt like she had to take her role as big sister seriously... Now don't tell her I told you this, but she's missed you just as much as you've missed her."

"She's got a funny way of showing it."

"I just know." Lila shrugged with a light tap to her temple. Bobby rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. He knew all about his daughter's so-called 'superpower'. He certainly didn't believe it was anything mystical, just that the kid had a stronger emotional intelligence than most. Lila then stepped forward with another surprise, a light peck on his cheek before she began to close the door. "G'night, Dad."

Bobby nodded his head, repeating the sentiment without vocalizing it. He turned and walked back down the hall, his boots only adding to her nostalgia as they clunked down the steps back toward the study. She closed the rest of the door and leaned her head back against the wood, sliding down to the floor ever so slowly.

She sighed. When had life grown so complicated? It was the thought floating around her mind as she recalled the earlier conversation from the kitchen. She and her siblings were so far spread out across the states—the world in Drew's case—that she couldn't even remember the last time they'd all stood in the same room together. Sure, she'd left at nineteen, following the pattern of her older sister while literally following her out to D.C., but she was hardly the youngest to strike out on her own. Nate left at eighteen. Drew at seventeen. Pete was the oldest, leaving at twenty-one around the same time that she had. And then there was her genius little brother who was in his fourth year of med school at twenty-two years old. He'd left at the ripe age of fourteen for Harvard.

She walked to the end of her room, sitting on the light blue cover of her bed. She was tempted to crash right then and there, but a nice hot shower sounded better and would allow he to decompress after the long day. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket with the intention of charging it; however, the lock screen lit up with a new notification. She unlocked the device, clicking on the notification that took her to her messages. Finally noticing who the text had been from, she smiled then read.

|| BOY SCOUT ||

I know it's a little soon for next time, but could we talk?

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

rn't u sitting right nxt 2 ur brother?

|| BOY SCOUT ||

Yeah... he doesn't understand. You don't have to say anything.
I just need to get a few thoughts out of my head.

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

alright. shoot.

|| BOY SCOUT ||

I was awake for some of it. I know Bobby—your dad—
wow... that's weird. Anyway, I know Bobby said to let it go,
but I can't. Not yet. I mean, I watched myself kill Wandell
with my own two hands. I saw the light go out in his eyes.

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

that sounds awful. :(

|| BOY SCOUT ||

Dean said something similar, only it's no big deal for him.
He just sits back and turns on the radio like it's any other day.

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

whatcha listening 2?

|| BOY SCOUT ||

What?

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

what song?

|| BOY SCOUT ||

REO Speedwagon's "Back on the Road."

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

cool. B-)

|| BOY SCOUT ||

Sure. The thing is I almost hurt Jo too, but no matter
what I did Dean wouldn't shoot. Now, he said it was
the right move, but what happens next time? Right? It
wasn't me this time, but who's to say I won't eventually
hurt someone...

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

jo harvelle? she's great! i <3 the harvelles! they're practically
family 2. so like i don't understand most of what u said, but
i do know a bit about u, sam. ur not a bad person. u'd never
hurt anyone on purpose, so whatever thoughts that demon left
in ur head rn't true. whatever happened 2day wasn't u, and i
don't believe it could ever b u. it's something i had 2 remind
myself after a bad hunt in sandusky, ohio. we'd actually
thought we were hunting you boys... and look at us now!

|| BOY SCOUT ||

How can you be so sure?

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

call it a hunch, but my spidey-sense about these things
hasn't been wrong yet. trust me. u've got this. ;)

besides... i was possessed and tried to kill my sister.
i think i know what i'm talking about.

|| BOY SCOUT ||

What?! You can't just stop there!

|| GINGERSNAP <3 ||

sure i can. i'll tell u all about it on our nxt date! ttyl!

Then she turned her phone off without waiting to see his response. Her phone vibrated and the screen lit up, but she simply turned it face-down and plugged the device in to charge. She leaned back in her bed, releasing a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding. It hadn't been her desire to relive the moment that kept her awake some nights, but she thought it might help him calm down and stop overthinking. True, she had no idea about the demon blood running rampant through the boy's veins, but it probably wouldn't have made a difference either way. Her mind was made up: Sam Winchester was good. There wasn't much that could change her mind of that fact.

However, she did remember how worked up she'd been following her own possession. She hadn't spoke with Tess about it, or anyone for that matter; instead, she'd bottled it up. It was like there was this weight of guilt compressed on her chest that didn't want to leave no matter which positive affirmations she quoted. Maybe she was just listening to the wrong motivational speakers, or maybe optimism wasn't the cure to the trauma of almost being responsible for the death of one's older sister.

She stared at the ceiling, mentally tracing the pattern of the textured ceiling above her head. That illness in her chest had only grown worse after their encounter with Twitch. The demon had said a few things that made her question what she knew, but she thought she'd resolved those feelings weeks ago. However, the demon she'd met tonight—Meg, if she remembered correctly—repeated a couple of Twitch's statements, reigniting the doubtful thoughts that had lingered.

She didn't want to think about any of that now. She just wanted to close her eyes and lie in the dark for the next eight hours at least. Wake up tomorrow morning to a pancake breakfast she knew her father would make, even though no one had asked. And convince herself that for one day she was a normal, 9 to 5, working American citizen. Unfortunately, that last part wouldn't occur. She was a hunter. It tainted her blood and ran through her veins; and as she'd discovered early on: once a hunter, always a hunter. So instead, she'd take a scalding shower, sleep at least four hours, and make do with that pancake breakfast she was manifesting.

•⍟───✧⍟✦⍟✧───⍟•

AUTHOR'S NOTE| I'd thought this chapter was going to be much shorter than the last... joke's on me because that obviously didn't happen. That does bring up the question, which do you guys prefer: longer chapters or shorter chapters? All comments and votes are appreciated! Don't be shy, I'd love to hear some feedback! Also if you liked the chapter don't feel ashamed to gush about it. There's nothing more rewarding to an writer than to pop on to a dozen notifications from interactive readers. I'm also considering adding a meme to the end of each chapter... thoughts?

•⍟───✧⍟✦⍟✧───⍟•

¡ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 !