.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
"Police grade, you're not getting out of those, princess."
.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
"Sam, Let's just go, okay? She's fine.", I hear muffled voices and I try to open my eyes, my eyelids heavy.
"No, Dean, what if she wakes up while we're gone?", I hear another voice and I frown, feeling heavy covers over my legs and arms, "We need to talk to her first."
"Fine.", I hear him reply as his footsteps grow closer to me, I squint due to the bright lights and attempt to piece together where I am.
I feel the covers being ripped off of me, a sudden cold shock hitting my body causing me to finally wake up fully.
"Good morning, sunshine.", Dean says, smiling down on me and I immediately sit up in the bed, crawling away from him.
"Where am I?", I question, looking around for anything familiar but coming up short.
"Rockford, Illinois.", Dean shorts, walking out of the room and into the motel bathroom.
"Rockford- Why am I in Rockford?", I ask, looking to Sam, desperate for answers.
"Listen, Sharona, I know you're freaked out, but I promise we're not going to hurt you.", He tried to comfort me but his attempts are futile.
"You kidnapped me.", I spit and he sighs, pursing his lips and looking deep into my eyes.
Something about the way his eyebrows pull upward and his eyes plead with mine makes me want to hear him out.
"It's not kidnapping if you're an adult, right?", Dean's voice muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth as he walks out of the bathroom, turning to Sam to make sure he's correct but Sam doesn't look away from me, ignoring him.
"Our Dad left us this, back in October.", He says, handing me a folder with pictures of me, my apartment, my favorite bar... this is my whole life, "He didn't say much, just to find you."
"Safe and Sober, too.", Dean shouts from the bathroom, spitting into the sink. Sam rolls his eyes, looking back to me
"Yes, to keep you safe and sober, but this is why we found you, okay? Nothing in there suggests that we'd want to hurt you right?", Sam says, and I close the folder, handing it back to him.
"And taking me from the only home I've ever known is helping me how, exactly?", I question and I hear Dean gag.
"Sorry, you know when you're brushing your tongue and you—", He starts but Sam cuts him off.
"We saw the bags, we know you've been running for a while now. Why?", Sam asks and I shrug, thinking back to all the times demons have found me in the past.
"I'm very well known, you're aren't the only people to find me and crash my party.", I mumble, looking around the room.
I could see my bags stacked against the wall, recognizing the blue patterns.
"So you're hunters, then?", I ask and Sam nods.
"Yes, were your parents... were they hunters too?", He asks and I clench my jaw, staring blankly at him.
"Don't talk about them.", I spit and he nods, looking down.
"I'm sorry, I just... I'm just as confused as you are, okay? I want to figure out why Dad wanted us to get you just as bad as you, but in order to do that I need you to be willing to talk to me.", Sam tries to reason but I shake my head, hugging my knees tight against my chest.
"Okay well, we have a loony bin waiting for us. Mystery's not gonna solve itself, Sammy. We done with the therapy sesh?", Dean walks out of the bathroom, rubbing his mouth and letting his eyes wander over me.
"So what, I'm just supposed to stay here?", I ask and Dean scoffs.
"Yeah, you know, watch some T.V., masterbate, read a magazine, just keep yourself busy, we'll be back soon.", Dean says and Sam sighs.
"This is bullshit.", I scoff and Sam gives me a sympathetic smile, following Dean towards the door.
"Go warm up the car, I'll be right there.", Dean instructs and Sam hesitates before sighing, walking out of the motel room and leaving me alone with Dean.
"Okay, listen up, don't leave this room, don't try to call for help, and don't even think about eating the sandwich in the mini fridge, that's mine.", Dean instructs, pointing towards me with authority.
I laugh in the face of authority.
"God, you're a real sweetheart.", I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
"Well unlike Sam, I've almost died in your hands, I know not to underestimate you, which is why...", He trails off, walking closer to me. I frown, trying to scoot away but he pulls me back by my hand, wrapping a cuff around it and latching the other end around the bed frame, "I'm not taking that chance again."
"Fuck you.", I grunt, spitting up into his face but I only get a smile in return as he wipes it away, leaning closer to me.
"You're real pretty, you know that?", He smirks, walking towards the door, "Maybe when we get back, you'll be so bored you just can't stop talking. The faster we figure out why you're here the faster we know when you can leave."
I don't say anything, turning away from him and staring at the wall.
"Be back later.", He says before closing the door, locking it behind him.
What an idiot.
I lift the small pocket knife from Deans pocket up to the cuffs, beginning to unlock them as the door opens again.
I quickly drop the knife, watching as it falls to the floor before turning to see Dean, smiling at me.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that.", He says, walking over to me.
"Forget deodorant?", I dismiss his comment, looking away from him.
He doesn't respond, walking on my side of the bed and picking up the pocket knife, holding it up for a second with a smile before putting it away in his pocket.
"We'll be back tonight.", He says, grabbing the remote and turning the T.V. on, "Oh look, an infomercial, that's entertaining right?"
I don't say anything, just stare up at him in anger and pull at my restraints.
"Police grade, you're not getting out of those, princess.", He says, walking towards the motel door again, "Be good."
I watch as he closes the door behind him once again, sighing under my breath as I look around me for any way out but eventually giving up.
I sat like that for hours, my mind spiraling with nothing else do but think.
God I could use a cigarette and a bump right now.
I look around, my skin crawling as my sobriety starts to catch up to me, probably due to the boredom or maybe whatever's they're here to hunt.
I hate hunters.
My parents started hunting after my seventh grade year, pulled me out of school and started moving around.
I was fourteen when they met John... He was like family, stopped by regularly, get information and a hot mean, then leave again.
I thought he was a blessing, they'd give him the case and he'd work it, meaning they got to stay at home with me. Safe.
We were a family again.
Until one day, seven years ago, John comes through town like normal, except this time... he was different.
My dad left a few hours before John showed up, he never came back though, police found him at the park with a stab wound in his chest.
But I know it was John. After seeing him standing over my mother's bloody body? There's no question.
I heard her screams, I wanted to help. I wanted to fight, but I didn't. I choked. I just stood at the bottom of the stairs... and listened.
It wasn't until it was too late that I finally stepped around that corner, my mother dead on the floor with blood flowing from here eyes.
I still remember the look on John's face, I didn't scream, or cry, I just stood there, staring at him. His eyes were sympathetic, can you believe that?
It still makes my blood boil to this day, looking to me with grief as if he didn't kill her himself. As if she didn't beg him to stop over and over and over.
You know, I envy those who forget their trauma, can't seem to remember the details, I was never given the gift of ignorance. I can remember everything, down to the smells.
It haunts me.
After my parents died, that's when it all started, seeing demons in plain sight, feeling evil around me.
The grief counselor thought it was some kind of trauma response, but I knew better.
It was in foster care that I found being drunk or high was truly the only escape from the crushing evil, the only glimpse I'd ever get at ignorance.
That's it.
I grab the lamp from the night side table beside me, slamming it against the cuffs in a desperate attempt to escape, but of course, my attempts were pointless.
I throw the lamp, turning to the side despite the pain in my wrist from the cuffs. I lay there, sprawled out across the nightstand, looking up at the cuffs.
Is that? No. That bastard.
I reach up, pressing the clip on the side of the cuff and watching as it comes undone.
Police grade my ass.
I wasted so much time believing these weren't just some cheap handcuffs from spencer's... why didn't I check?
I wasted no time, going to the mini fridge to see a few one shooters, taking them and downing them quickly, already feeling better as my problems seem to be drowned in the liquor.
I wasted no time, looking through my duffle bags and deciding to take the most important one i could find, despite how much it eats me up to lose all my other things.
I'll get them back, one day. When they're least expecting it, when I'm prepared, for now though I need to get out of here.
I turn on my heals, the slight buzz from the shots giving me confidence as I swing the motel door open, walking towards the street.
If i'm on Rockford then I'm only two hours away from Chicago, I can catch a bus and pack what's left of my apartment, find a new home.
I was just starting to like Chicago too, it was really starting to feel like home.
I've never really had a home, even with my parents we were always moving around.
The only 'home' I can really remember is my childhood home, but there was so much fighting it never really felt... homey.
My parents went through a rough patch in my youth, I think hunting really brought them back together... in a weird way.
I see a small bus station in the distance now that I'm a few blocks away from the motel. I couldn't stop myself from practically running, desperate to be as far away from the Winchester boys as I could get.
"I need a ticket to Chicago.", I say, looking over the girls features. She gives me a tight lipped smile.
"The next bus leaves tomorrow at 5:30 a.m., come back then.", She shrugs, turning around and walking away from the window.
I huff, turning around to see a small bar open, a smile forming on my face.
I know what we can do to pass the time.
I walk across the street, opening the door to see blue and green overhead lights, the bar still surprisingly busy despite the time of night.
Actually, I don't know what time it is, clearly not two yet which is good.
I walk up to the bar top, waiting for the bartender to turn to me. I definitely wasn't disappointed when he did either, his chiseled jaw lined with a well groomed scruff.
His dark brown eyes finally land on mine as he holds his finger to me, motioning that he will be with me shortly.
I don't see a ring, so there's that.
"What can I do for you, ma'am?", He asks, leaning against the bar, his hands gripping the bar top and giving him stability.
"What do you recommend?", I ask and he frowns, looking me up and down.
"I think I'm going to need some I.D., please.", He says, holding his hand out expectantly. I smile, laughing to myself as I reach into my duffel bag, rummaging through it until I find the leather clad wallet, pulling out my I.D. and showing it to him.
"Sharona, interesting name.", He hums, grabbing the I.D. from me, studying it closely.
"This is real?", He asks and I roll my eyes.
"You tell me.", I shoot back, not really sure if he's flirting or not.
I just know that I need a drink.
"Okay, Miss Sharona, What liquors do you like?", The man asks and I shrug, despite knowing the exact liquor I love.
"Tequila, I think, Herradura Silver if you have it.", I say and he nods, smiling.
"Just so happens I make the best Tequila Sunrises in Illinois.", He smiles, grabbing the bottle of my choice and putting it down on the counter.
If he hadn't asked for my I.D., I would snatch that bottle and run right now.
"We'll see about that.", I smile, watching as he starts mixing my drink, "What's your name?"
"Caleb.", He says shortly, shaking my drink and letting his eyes graze over me, "You live around here?"
I got a pit in the bottom of my stomach as those words left his mouth, the shots from earlier wearing off as the heavy feeling that something isn't right falls over me.
"No.", I reply, shifting on the bar stool as I look around nervously.
Being sober enough to feel there's a demon here but not sober enough to see who is probably the scariest feeling.
Suddenly I wish I was back in that hotel room again.
"Here you are, Sharona.", The man interrupts my thoughts, setting the drink down in front of me.
I should leave, but what's a few more minutes? No demon is going to attack me in the open eye of the public.
"Go ahead and make that two.", I smile, plopping the cherry into my mouth, taking a sip from the drink as it rests in my mouth.
"That kind of night, huh?", He smiles, his eyes dark. Given different circumstances, I'd be hitting on him, but I need to stay sharp.
"Definitely.", I answer shortly, already to the bottom of my first drink, the heavy feeling from before fading once again.
There's a certain peace in ignorance.
"What brings you to town?", The bartender asks, setting down my second drink. I shrug, not sure what to say.
"Vacation.", I lie, looking up at him as I take the first sip of my drink.
"In Rockford?", He laughs and I nod, waving my finger for another drink, "You know, I'm not technically aloud to—", He says and I roll my eyes.
"How much for what's left of the bottle?", I ask and he frowns, a smile resting on his face.
"I- uh, Listen I think maybe-", He starts and I wave him off, finishing my drink.
"Here's a 20, should be enough for half empty bottle.", I say and he laughs.
"Some would say half full.", He grabs the twenty dollar bill from me, grabbing the bottle of tequila.
"Not when we're talking value.", I say and he hands the bottle to me.
"I can't let you leave the building with that.", He says and I smile, flipping him off as I walk out of the bar, towards the same motel I escaped from.
It's a warm place to sleep until I can get a bus tomorrow, might as well tough it out for one more night.
"Hey!", I hear someone scream and I turn around to see the bartender, his eyes even darker than before.
"It was you.", I mutter, a chill going down my spine. Sober or not, you can't deny black eyes.
"And it's you, do you know how long we've been looking for you?", His voice was deep, guttural but calm.
I mock him despite the fear deep in my chest, turning my back and walking away.
"Why are you not scared? That's why you drink right, so you don't have to face us?", The demon pries for more information but I don't answer, starting to walk a little faster now.
"C'mon, let's wait inside.", He says, grabbing me and pulling me into the alleyway behind the bar. I kick and scream, knowing it is useless.
If I was at home I'd know what to do, I'd have everything I need to defend myself against this demon, then I'd pack my bags and start running again.
But I'm defenseless now.
He drags be through the back of the bar, putting me in the walk in where a chair was already waiting. He practically through me down in the chair, tying up my arms and legs.
This seems to be a reoccurring theme.
"You know, if you would've just asked, I'd probably do this willingly.", I laugh and he slaps me across the face, the sharp pain spreading over the left side of my face, making my eyes water.
"You're a pain in the ass.", He growls and I smile, despite the fear rising in my chest.
"Then why keep me around?", I ask and he turns away from me, walking back and forth with a cocky smile.
"You see, I happen to know a thing or two.", He explains, taking a pause to look me over before continuing, "Turning you in right now would already be a victory in itself, but you with the Winchester brothers... now that's enough for four promotions down in the pit."
"Winchester brothers?", I play dumb, not really sure why I feel the need to protect them.
"You don't have to tell me anything, I know it's true.", He scoffs, kicking my leg as he walks by making me wince, "Pretty dumb move for the both of you. I mean, you? We can't track you, but them? It might be hard, but they're not invisible like you."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!", I grit, starting to panic now.
"Winchester's always have a target on their back, but with you? It just makes that target a hell of a lot bigger.", He continues, my brows furrowing in confusion.
"You can't track me? What do you mean?", I pry for answers, the demon laughing mockingly before his face drops.
"You're serious?", He laughs and I clench my jaw, pulling at the ropes, "You're... a prodigy, in a sense, the only human who can see a demon's true face, can't be tracked, can't be possessed... you're practically invincible, but I guess you're not really human, are you?", a smirk pulls at his lips and I frown, my mind racing.
"Cut me and see if I bleed, I'm human.", I grit and he shakes his head.
"Not even half human, actually.", He laughs and I pull at my restraints.
"You're lying, that's what you demons do.", I try to convince myself, but I can't help feeling like he's right.
"Sharona!", I hear Dean's voice call through the bar and I sigh, looking down.
"Just as planned.", The demon smiles, putting a gag in my mouth and walking out of the walk in.
"Hey, bud, have you seen a short little blonde girl, kind of a pain in the ass?", I hear Dean ask the bartender and I screw my face in offense.
I'm a pain in the ass?
"You see, she's our sister and she ran away from home, our parents are freaking out and we're just trying to—", I hear Sam and I roll my eyes.
"Yeah, I found her trying to steal liquor from our storage, I was just about to call the cops.", The demon lies and I try to kick and scream in the chair, my attempts failing.
"No, no don't do that, look we'll pay for whatever she tried to steal and take her straight home.", Sam tries to reason.
"We will?", Dean asks, and I chuckle.
"Sure, fine, come on, this way.", The demon says, his footsteps growing closer, Sam and Deans right behind them.
The door opens, the demon leading the brothers in before slamming the door behind them.
"Why the hell is she tied up?", Dean questions and the demon wastes no time, hitting Sam with a liquor bottle.
"You Winchesters get more credit than you deserve.", The demon laughs, his eyes turning black.
Dean wastes no time, fighting the demon off as Sam holds his now bleeding head, still trying to understand the situation unfolding in front of him.
"Sam, untie her.", Dean yells, pelting the demon with holy water in an attempt to weaken it, but that won't last.
Sam quickly gets up, trying to blink away his dizziness as he unties my restraints. As soon as my hands are free I untie my gag as he finishes untying my legs.
"Took you long enough.", I scoff and Sam frowns at me, rushing to help Dean who is now under the demon, being punched repeatedly.
"Exercise this son of a bitch!", Dean yells, Sam grabbing the demon only to get thrown across the room.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas.", I start, trying to remember what I've used before. The demon screams, turning around and running at me, pinning me against the storage rack, sending a sharp pain up my spine.
"Omnis incursio infernalis adversii omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.", I continue, the demon wincing as its grip falters for a moment.
"A little help.", I grunt, Dean grabbing the demon off of me, Sam helping him hold him down in the chair.
"Ergo, draco maledicte, ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire.", I continue the spirit looking up at me with black eyes, the alcohol in my system fading, causing me to see his true face for only a split moment.
"You're all idiots, you're fulfilling the prophecy without even realizing it.", The demon laughs, looking so deeply into my soul that I felt almost as though he was hungry for it.
"Shut you filthy lying trap, you black eyed son of a bitch.", Dean grows, punching the demon across the face, causing it to burst into a deep guttural laughter.
"So what will you choose, Sharona? Good or evil?", He asks again, my chest growing tight.
"Focus, Sharona, send him back!", Dean yells and I clear my throat, pushing the feeling away.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas. Omnis incursio infernalis adversii omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte, ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire. Te rogamus. Audi nos.", I finish, the demon growling a screaming before choking out a dense black smoke. The airborn manifestation sinking to the ground before disappearing completely.
"What the hell was that.", Sam scoffs, rubbing his head where the blood is beginning to dry.
"How do you know Latin?", Dean asks, walking closer to me with suspicion all over his expression.
"My parents were hunters.", I lie, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the shelf beside me, "So back to the motel?"
"How long did it take you to realize those handcuffs were fake?", Dean asks, Sam frowning and looking at him.
"Handcuffs?", Sam questions but we both ignore him.
"I'm not an idiot, Dean. Like five minutes.", I lie again, opening the bottle to take a swig but he yanks it from my hands.
"Yeah right, you're lying.", He scoffs, grabbing my arm and turning me away from him, "Let's go, miss sunshine."
__
sorry this took so long, hopefully i'll be able to make more updates soon, i'm rewatching the show to plan out the plot and so far, things are looking fun to say the least. hope you enjoyed this chapter, see you in the next one.