Chapter Text
The dark orange hue of the florescent lights bar lit up the small bar I was currently in. I crossed my legs, my palms pressing against the bar. I let out a huff and looked down at my watch. 6:17. He was seven minutes late. Which was unlike him.
"Anything to drink, miss?" The bartender smiled at me, her long golden hair blending in with the lights.
"I'll have a whiskey, neat." My eyes trailed to the line up of bottles behind her. The girl set the drink in front of me, and walked to help another customer.
I lifted the glass to my lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid.
"You still drink Whiskey?" The gruff voice of John Winchester broke through the silence of my brain. I get the glass down with a soft thud, watching the whiskey swish.
"I don't go by Whiskey anymore John." He grabbed the glass and took a sip as he sat down next to me.
"I found a way to kill it." I let out a sharp laugh, looking over at him incredulously.
"You must be joking. The only thing you can do is send them back to hell."
"Bartender, a beer." A guy sat down next to me, covered in dirt and grime underneath his fingernails.
I gritted my teeth, my knuckles tightening around my glass. I raised the glass to my lips again, taking a slow sip, my eyes on the guy next to me.
"You look like you're going to kill that guy, Sam." I bristled at the old name, a shiver going through my body. My old body had liked that name, but for some reason this one didn't care as much for it as I used to.
"It's Faye." I cast a quick glance at John. "We should leave."
I saw him smile, nod and get up. We both made our way to his truck.
"I miss the Impala." I said, sitting down in the passenger seat.
"You'll see it soon."
"So I finally get to meet your boys, Sam and Dean, right?"
"You've met them."
"Yeah, sixteen years ago. If I'm not mistaken, humans still age." The truck hummed to life, the body of the truck shaking slightly with the force of the engine.
"And not to mention, I look a little different than I did the last time I saw them." I saw his hands tighten around the steering wheel, his grip shifting.
Either I change the topic, or I get hit.
"Dean was ten the last time I saw him, and Sam, Sam's got to be in college by now." He pulled over on the side of the road, and slammed on the brakes. My body went forward, and I bashed my head on the top of the truck.
"Shut up, Faye." His voice was unsteady, and unnaturally low. I pushed myself back into the seat, reaching up a hand to my forehead. My fingertips came back red.
"Ow. What was that for?"
"You know better. Don't ask about Dean, and don't ask about Sam."
"Those are the two rules." I said, finishing his sentence for him. "But why? Don't want them to know you're besties with a demon?"
"You're not a demon, Faye. But they won't know the difference."
"It's a pretty clear difference, John. I'm a devil."
"And now, I'm bringing you to them." He turned back onto the road, driving faster than the other cars.
"They're not going to kill me. They don't know how."
"They'll send you back to hell, and I know you hate hell."
"I can handle hell. You need me to help you kill this demon."
"You still bleeding?" I looked out the window, into the side mirror.
"No, it stopped."
"There's towels in the glove box." John was always hurting himself on his solo hunts, so it was no surprise he kept towels in his glove box. I opened the glove box, grabbed a towel, and wiped my face off.
"Where are we going?"
"An old mentor of mine was killed by vampires. Sam and Dean might be up there."
"So, we're meeting up with them? They know we're coming?"
"Yes, no."
"Well, great. A hunter and a demon showing up together will definitely turn some heads."
"You ready to take the Winchester name on again?"
"Why does it always have to be Winchester, why not Morningstar?"
"Winchester sounds better, and the Winchester name is a hunter name."
"Yeah, fine. Whatever." I turned, looking out the window at the rolling plains, cows and small clusters of trees.
"It's five hours, so get comfortable." John's voice was low, sensing how tired I was.
I woke up in darkness. The only light was a single beam above us as the car slowed, stopping at a house.
"You're awake. Good. Stay here."
"This is the house they're staying at?"
"Yes, Faye. Stay in the car." The car shook slightly as he closed the door and walked towards the front door.
"Mm-hm." I groaned, stretching out my arms. My eyelids fluttered as I watched the door open and John walk inside.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, and dialed the second number.
"Hello?" The feminine voice on the other end was mulled with sleep.
"How'd you sleep, darling?"
"Faye, stop calling me if you're not going to help me."
"About that. I'll help you kill John Winchester." There was a moment of silence on the other end, then the rustling of bed sheets.
"What changed your mind?"
"Nothing, I just have one condition." I looked into the room, the three shadows had not moved since John walked in.
"Spit it out already, Faye."
"I kill him myself."
"Deal." She hung up the phone. I closed the phone and put it back in my pocket. I let out the long, shaky breath I had been holding. I took a deep breath, and opened the car door. I climbed out slowly, my combat boots softly landing on the snow covered pavement. I pulled my green skirt lower on my hips, then swept my hair up into a ponytail.
I walked to the door, and pressed my ear against it.
"She can help us, Dean." I heard John's voice inside, arguing with his sons.
"She's a fucking demon, dad." I heard a loud thud inside, and knocked on the door. Three evenly spaced knocks. All movement inside stilled. A pair of footsteps approached the door, and the click of the lock sounded before the door opened.
"Can I help you?" The man was taller than John, and was holding a gun in his hand.
"I'm Faye Morningstar. Pleasure to meet you, Sam."
"You should leave. Now's not a good time."
"I think you should let me in, Sam." He hesitantly moved aside, and I walked into the small room.
"She doesn't look like a demon." Sam stated, trying to diffuse the tension.
"They never do, Sammy." Dean said back, glaring at me.
"I see you failed in telling them what I was, John." John was standing next to Dean, Sam next to me.
"He told us enough."
"Dean, enough." John said, and I saw Dean's shoulders tense.
"I'm a devil, not a demon. A devil is a child of Satan, a demon is a child of a devil."
"That definitely clears things up." Dean crossed his arms across his chest.
"I'm even more confused." Sam said.
"Satan was the first malevolent being to be created. Just like God was the first benevolent being." I told him.
"Your mother was Satan?" Dean said, his tone implying he didn't believe a word I've said.
"Yes. Any other questions?" I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms.
"How'd you meet our father?" Sam asked. I smiled to myself.
"I didn't. It was your mother I met." I saw Dean and Sam share a look. I didn't know them well enough to decipher it before Dean spoke.
"Why didn't she kill you the first time you met?" Dean's eye bore into mine.
"That's a good question. I still don't know."
"Your mother trusted Faye with her life." John spoke.
"So why did she die? If this Devil was supposed to be protecting mom, why isn't she still here?" I saw John raise his hand, rage in his eyes. I should just let him hit him, but something inside me told me to stop him. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them they were white.
I teleported in front of John, grabbed his hand, twisted it behind his back, and slammed him into the wall.
"Let go of me, bitch!" I kicked the back of his knee, bringing him down to his knees. I smashed his face into the wall. I took a couple steps back.
"You deserved that." I paused, watching him lift himself up, sitting on the floor. I raised one of my eyebrows.
"I deserved that." He said softly.
"No, say it like you mean it." My eyes changed again, this time going black.
"I deserved it." I offered him my hand, and he took it. John looked at Dean, and opened his mouth. I hit him on the back of the head.
"Can it, old man. Tell me about the vampires." My gaze drifted from John to Sam.
"Tell her, Sam."
I felt Dean's eyes on me the entire time Sam was talking. They were trained on my face, probably looking for any sign of a facade, any sign I was lying to them. I couldn't blame him, I wouldn't trust me either. After being told that all demons, any supernatural creature, are evil, my mind would go to murder as well.
"That's all we have so far." Sam ended, and sat down on the couch.
"So they took the Colt? Great." I huffed and rubbed my temples.
"I hope you have a plan to get it back John." I could feel Dean's eyes still locked on my face.
"Got something to say, Winchester?" I turned my head to look at him, my eyes locking onto his. He glanced over at his father, but I could tell he wanted to say something.
"Spit it out." I said, turning his attention back to me.
"We shouldn't be working with a demon. She has no right to be here." He walked straight up to me, glaring down at me.
"I've killed more vampires than all three of you combined, not to mention I've been hunting things longer than you've been alive." Dean leaned in closer, his hands grabbing my shoulders as he pushed his body against mine.
"I'm going to kill you, demon." He pulled back about to give me a look that would have sent shivers down a humans' spine.
"Why don't we go outside, get all this anger out of your system, hunter?"
"Gladly." He muttered, letting go of my shoulders, and pushing past me. I looked back at John and Sam, then followed Dean out the door.
The cold air hit my cheeks as I stepped through the open door. I heard the door click as I closed it gently. The snow crunched under my boots as I walked to where Dean was standing.
"How do you want to do this, Winchester?" I crossed my arms over my chest, and I saw his eyes drop from my face for a second. His jaw clenched, then he looked back up at my face.
"How about I just shoot you?" He said, grabbing his gun from his belt, raising it, pointing it at my head. His grip on the gun tightened, his finger pressing harder on the trigger with every passing second.
"Go ahead, I'll just come back, and I'll be even more disagreeable when I come back." I saw his grip on the trigger rescind, but he was still glaring at me with those blue eyes his mother had.
I tilted my chin upwards, looking down the barrel. I could see the bullet, ready to be fired, looking back at me. I knew the second he shot me, this body would fall to the ground, but I would go back to Hell. And I hated Hell, especially the king of Hell.
Dean seemed to be wrestling with his mind. Of course, the hunter part of him wanted to kill me, but as I said, I would come back. And I don't think he wants me to come back.
"Come on, Dean. Just shot me already. You'd be sending me to Hell." I grimaced, and he seemed to see it.
"I've got one question for you, then I'll shoot you." He took my silence as an answer, and continued.
"Why exactly are you here on earth? Why not stay in Hell where all the other demons are? " My mouth went dry, as I stared at him.
"What, is it a touchy subject for you?" He had dropped the gun to point at my feet, but I knew if I moved towards him he would have no trouble shooting me before I got to him.
"Something like that, yes. I don't belong in Hell; you wouldn't even grasp the reality of what I am. I'm on earth because this is the only place I'm not undesired and seen as an anathema. And as I'm sure your father told you earlier, I'm not a demon." His face displayed the rage I saw earlier, but I noticed something else in his eyes.
"Have fun in Hell," he paused, a look of what looked to me like understanding crossing his face, "Demon. Since it's where you belong anyways." I saw his finger pull the trigger, the bullet flying towards me, but I stayed perfectly still. I had to go to Hell. I needed to see someone.
The bullet approached faster and faster until I felt the cold metal turn hot as it broke my skin and shattered my skull. But the sound never reached my ears, as I felt my body hit the cold, snowy ground. Damn, he was a good shot. I would have smiled, but I didn't have a mouth anymore.