I don't want to say Sam was right when he said I have no idea what I'm doing, but...
I should have just stuck with books.
When the Winchesters caught wind of a case, Cas joined them, leaving me to my own devices. It was a mistake on their part; I ventured through the bunker and found a weapon inventory room. Guns, blades, bullets, you name it. I opted for small blades, a pair that I found. At first, just testing the blades was practice in itself.
Then I decided to get fancy, and by fancy, I mean clumsy.
So, here I am now, currently in my designated bathroom, trying to wash the blood off my slit palm without scorching the open wound. Naturally, there is no first aid kit in sight, so that means I'm either making a band aid myself or I'm wrapping it with something until the three return from their hunt.
I need to try and hide this wound from them. If they see it, they'll definitely lock me in my room. For my safety or not, that's a cruel fate.
My blood circles the drain. The sight of it doesn't make my stomach turn. I've had my fair share of paper cuts and scraped knees. Though, I can say until now I have never cut myself with a blade.
Though it injured me, I'm keeping that pair.
I end up grabbing the nearest washcloth and gently wrap it around the cut. Deciding that I'm done with hands-on practice, I move to the bunker library. Sam's laptop is in sleep mode. Instead of waking up to an accessible menu, I find his laptop password protected. There's no indication of a password hint or said password lying around anywhere on the table it rests on.
Sighing, I go to the nearest book shelf, picking out a dusty book on demons. Using my good hand, I flip through pages, eyes skimming words that don't matter and focusing on those that do. The problem is, it's hard to say if the words I'm reading are real and not just made up by some crackpot.
At some point, the words blur together and my focus lapses. With my head pounding from effort, I take a walk up the stairs, out through the two doors, exposing myself outside. A little fresh air can't kill me.
The sky is overcast. Further away are darker clouds, threatening to storm. I decide to take a walk around the bunker. As I walk around the one side, I stop abruptly.
Cole.
Though I should be happy to see my boyfriend, I know it's not him. It's the demon possessing him that greets me. Though he doesn't sport the black eyes, I'm waiting for them to make an appearance.
"Hiya, Wills."
I cringe. It sounds like Cole, but it's not him. "Please let me be dreaming." In a blink of an eye, I gasp. Not-Cole is right in front of me, black eyes ablaze and staring through my soul.
"Allow me to show you that you aren't." He grabs my wounded hand, pressing.
I cry out. In retaliation, I punch him in the face. Sorry, Cole. I punch again. He doesn't release the wounded hand. "How'd you find me?"
"The Winchesters don't make it easy. I've been snooping around, tracking them when they catch cases."
"W-why are you here?"
"I would say to finish the job from Homecoming, but, ah, I got new orders," he tells me softly. "You see, while we should want you dead, we think you may be useful."
"U-useful?" I stammer.
"Did I s-stutter?" he mocks me with a coy smirk. "It's only fair that I sneak you away from here. Once they realize what you are, Willa, they'll kill you."
"Are you insane?"
"For a demon, not really." He shrugs. With a tug, he pulls me to his chest.
Before things can escalate, the familiar purr of a car engine interrupts us. The tires screech to a halt, and in the confusion, I shove myself away from Not-Cole and book it towards the black car. Sam is the one to intercept me while Cas charges past, for Not-Cole.
"The hell are you doing out here, kid?" Dean scolds me.
"I-I just wanted some fresh air," I sputter. "I-I swear!"
"Just missed him," Cas says in defeat. His blue eyes settle on me. "Willa, are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine. You guys have the best timing."
"We try to."
"Willa?" Before I can snatch it to my side, Sam grabs my wounded hand. "What happened?"
"Um, well...I may have found your weapons room, and I may have taken out blades for a test run..."
Dean sighs irritably, Cas just looks disappointed in me.
"Okay, well, let's get this cleaned up and taken care of," Sam tells me gently. "Anywhere else you cut yourself?"
"No, just here. I had no way to contact any of you about first aid, but I didn't want to anyhow because I knew I'd get yelled at. Trial and error comes with pain, apparently."
"Did you hold the blade by its sharp end?" asks Dean.
"No, asshole, I didn't. I tried to flip it and catch it by the hilt but I miscalculated. Guess I should hold off on the tricks until I get more experience. How was the hunt?"
"It was a hunt."
Sam leads me back into the bunker. I feel Dean's scalding look burn a hole through the back of my skull.
"I told you," Sam murmurs quietly as we go down the steps into the bunker library.
"And I told you this is happening, with or without your help."
Sam guides me down the hall maze, into what I believe is his bathroom. He has me sit on the toilet seat lid while he grabs the first aid kit. The cloth is slightly bloody when he takes it off my slit palm.
"It doesn't require stitches," he assures me. "We'll just clean it up and get it properly covered."
"Guess I'll be locked away forever now, huh?" I ask glumly.
"What?"
"I almost got abducted by my possessed boyfriend. I did nothing to stop him." My head hangs, dark hair falling in curtains.
Sam utters a sigh. "Is murder still on his mind? You two looked like you were talking before we pulled up."
"He said...he said he got new instructions. They want to kidnap me, not kill me." I frown. "He got all cryptic, said about..."
Sam looks at my patiently, waiting. "About what?"
"He said that I can be useful to them."
"Who, the demons?"
"I guess." I shrug. "So instead of murder, they're now focusing on abduction." I hiss. The open wound throbs. To add more pain, Sam dabs some alcohol to clean it up.
"How'd he find this place?"
"He tracked you and Dean, when you guys go on cases. I'm sure he's not tracking Cas. The point is, he's found the hidey-hole. He can't...he can't get in, can he?"
"Nah, this place is warded pretty heavy. It'd take a lot of magic to take down all the spells."
"Thank god for the bewitched bunker." Wrappings go around my hand now, I watch carefully.
"How you holding up, kid?" Dean appears in the bathroom doorway. Cas lurks behind Dean.
"I'll survive. Let me guess: I'm grounded."
"We're not your parents. But...it's kinda why we're here."
"Can we not talk in the bathroom?"
"Too late. Cas and I've been talking. This minion sniffing around the bunker...he might be useful."
"How is a demon ever useful to anybody?" I wrinkle my nose. "Besides, you're a little late to that party—I already figured out he would be."
"If he's got orders to capture, not kill, he's gonna stake this place out as long as it takes until he's got you, right? I say we set you out as bait, trap him, then we get answers."
"Demons don't play fair, Dean," Sam groans. "He's not gonna tell us squat, even if we decide to torture him until the brink of death. He might actually like the pain."
"If he doesn't give us answers willingly, I can dig through his mind," says Cas. "It'll hurt him a lot. It might even kill him. But if it gets us answers, we can be one step closer to closing this case out."
"Gee, thanks for calling me a 'case'," I joke to Cas.
"Thing is," says Dean, "I'm not letting you go out there as bait without being able to hold your own in case things go bad. So...as much as we don't like it, we'll give you some basics. Once we think you're good enough, we'll set the trap in motion."
"That's provided the demon camps out for that long," says Sam. "It won't be guaranteed."
"They took the time and effort to find her in her hometown, Sam. He was willing to track us to find the bunker. I think it's a safe bet that he'll remain persistent. Until her hand is healed, we'll stick with lore and basic instruction. Nothing hands-on just yet. What do you say, Wills? Do we have a deal?"
My brows raise. "This isn't a joke?"
"Your life is being threatened. Is that a joke?"
I shake my head. "Okay then. You got yourself a deal, Dean."
**Oh, Wills, sweetie...you gotta be more careful!**