Jemma Winchester One Shots

The Devil, and Other Things That Hate Winchesters

Hello all.

This chapter is real intense y'all I apologize.

Warning: physical abuse (like really bad), stitches, mental abuse

Word count: 3933

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It starts out like this:

There's a possible rugaru case down in Texas. I have to go with Dad and Uncle Sam because we'll be away for a few weeks and Grandma and Cas are meeting us here.

We've been here for a week and a half before we figure out where the rugaru is. Dad, Uncle Sam, Cas, and Grandma left an hour ago to go kill it.

I hum as a smear jelly onto a slice of bread. I thought it would be annoying, spending two weeks in a small motel room with Dad and Uncle Sam, but it's been kind of nice.

"Hello—"

I scream as I spin around, the butter knife in my hand dripping jelly as I bring it up to stab whoever is behind me.

Crowley holds his hands up. "Easy, Squirrel Jr."

I drop the knife in the sink. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I need help. Your help."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You need... my help?"

He nods. "Yes, as much as I hate to admit it."

"Okay... with what?"

"Hell's having a little demon rebellion problem. I figured you could scare them into obedience."

"So what, kill a few demons?"

"Precisely. Remind them I have connections to the Winchesters."

I nod hesitantly. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Perfect. Let's go."

"Wait—" The next thing I know, we're standing in Hell. "You could've waited until I got my angel blade."

He waves a dismissive hand. "You won't need it. Follow me."

I sigh and follow Crowley through the winding halls of Hell. The farther we walk, the darker and dirtier it gets. Finally, Crowley stops and opens a large metal door for me.

"So what—" I stop abruptly as the door slams shut behind me. I turn around. "Crowley?" I try to open the door, but it's locked. "Crowley, open the door." I bang my fists on the door. "This isn't funny! Open the door! Crowley!"

"Hello there, little lamb."

My blood runs cold. The room temperature feels as if it has dropped twenty degrees. "No," I whisper, not turning around.

"Oh yes," the cool voice says. "It's me."

I start to tremble. "No. You're not here. You're in the Cage."

"No, I'm not. Turn around and see for yourself."

I slowly turn around.

No.

"Lucifer."

"My, my, my. Jemma Winchester, how you've grown."

Lucifer sits chained to a chair. He can't hurt me. He can't hurt me. He laughs lowly.

"How?" I ask, my voice coming out as a squeak.

"Crowley. When your motley crew of a family tried to send me back to the Cage with the golden egg, he cast a spell that sent me here instead."