Gotta Have Faith

By Sarah1983

A/N: This is AU and it doesn't have as much Sam and Dean in the beginning as most people would like. I hope that you give it a chance though and review it, please? Those are my chocolate, so I appreciate helpful hints or enjoyment of the story. The main character is Faith, who is a rather special young woman. Due to her "gifts" she'll attract the attention of some hunters we all know and love. But this is her story, they just appear in it. Enjoy. Review. Thanks!

Chapter 1

Faith gave the office one final glance, her hazel eyes flashing around the room. Her computer was off, the papers were stacked, and no one was in the room. She gave a satisfied smile and clicked the lights off, pushing through the door. It snapped shut and Faith slung her backpack across her shoulders. It weighed a ton with all her books on philosophy, theology, religious symbolism, and so on.

She rushed down the stairs and hopped into her car, a 2001 Impala, quickly twisting the keys in the ignition, and gunning it to get to campus on time. Class started at 6:00 pm and work ended at 5. She had an hour to get across town in rush hour traffic and hand in her latest assignments. Faith pulled into a parking spot at 5:45pm; plenty of time.

Faith was happy about that. She always took the stairs - couldn’t stand elevators. Plus, stairs were usually people free, something she desperately sought after.

Three hours later Faith was finished with her classes for the night. The professor dismissed the class and she gathered her textbooks and papers, stuffing them into the already crowded backpack and slinging it over her shoulder, nodding her head in a quick goodbye to her professor. Faith was out the door before half of the class had moved out of their seats. It wasn't that she was not a good student; she just needed to get away from the others as quickly as possible at the end of the class.

Good, she thought, just the way I like it. She slipped into the bathroom down the hall, reached into the front of her backpack, and pulled out some black spandex shorts and a tee with the words “Girl’s Kick Ass” printed on the front. She quickly glanced at her watch.

9:05pm, dance class starts at 9:30 in the loft down the road. First night, I can’t wait, Faith mused to herself. She quickly kicked off her heels, tossed aside her brown dress slacks, and pulled off her brown jacket and sheer cream blouse.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened. Despite being in a stall all her own, Faith felt uncomfortable standing in her underwear with a fellow student just outside the thin door with large cracks on either side. Goosebumps covered her skin but she shrugged it off and quickly dressed in her dance clothes, pulling her long, curly, brunette hair into a ponytail. Once everything was packed up, she exited the stall and reentered the hallway, which was now filled with students. Faith paused for a moment, collected herself, and pushed her way through the hall.

Damn crowds, and students to boot. I hate students. Faith smiled at the irony of her thoughts, seeing as how she was a student herself. Just ignore it.

Faith tried to move faster, but there were several students pacing in front of classroom doors waiting for their professors. Waves of anxiety and stress shot through Faith, her stomach clenching against the nausea and skin tingling from the rush of emotions. Her chest tightened and she couldn’t help but feel them all in her head and in her heart and she wanted to both help them all and rip off her skin at the same time.

Knock it off, stop stressing guys; I got enough on my mind. You have no idea how much that bothers me. She smiled at her own bitching. Oh, I can see that conversation, it’d end with me being locked up in a rubber room.

Once outside she found the nearest clump of trees and wretched, emptying the contents of her stomach, and then stood up shaking.

Stress, gotta love it, and when it’s that much, damn, it always gets to me.

Within seconds Faith was composed again and ready to take on her next class. Finally returning to a jazz dance class was something Faith was excited about. Just a half-hour long, but it felt like home as she twirled, pointed, ball-chained, and pas de boureed across the floor. It ended too soon for Faith’s taste, but she held on to the fact that next week she would be back for more.

The drive home to her apartment was uneventful, and Faith was happy to be back after her long day. Teddy, her cat, rubbed up against her legs as she walked into her building.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh, home at last Teddy, what would you like for dinner, chicken or tuna?” Faith joked to her cat. She got out the cat food and warmed up a plate of leftovers from the weekend, then sat down in front of the TV to watch the newest episode of her favorite program dealing with ghosts, creatures, demons, and the supernatural in general.

If my neighbors could see me now.

Faith hollered at the TV as if it were a living thing; once she practically fell off the couch. A particularly graphic scene would come on once in a while and make her cringe, as if the same thing was happening to her, only faintly, a buzzing on her skin like an electrical current, and she’d contort her body slightly as if backing away from the screen would make the feeling go away. Still, she loved the program and looked forward to it every week.

She thought back to the time when she’d told her sister, Hope, that horror movies and violence bothered her because she could feel it too.

“You’re weird, Faith,” was the response. “That’s crazy; I’ve never heard such a thing,” Hope had said then.

Faith knew she meant it too, could sense Hope’s discomfort and skepticism. She brushed it off and decided then and there that she could never tell anyone else her secret.

“Well, Teddy Bear, it’s time for bed,” cooed Faith, snapping back to the present and scooping up the cat and dumping him on her bed. She quickly changed out of her sweaty clothes. Faith dived under the cool covers and shivered a little, loving the feel of the sheets and the comfortable bed. Teddy jumped down and gave her a dirty look, twitching his tail in frustration at her antics on the bed. Faith snuggled down and immediately began to drift off to sleep. Just when she was almost dreaming, she was jerked awake by strong emotions. Her breath quickened and she felt the tug of desire inside her as she arched her back and gripped the sheets.

Damn it, not tonight guys. I need to get up early in the morning, she complained to herself, twisting to her side with the sheets between her legs, gripping her pillow tighter in her hands. Her body betrayed her, though, and her pelvis slid up and down twice before she could stop herself.

Crap, I gotta be up in a few hours and I happen to get ‘happily married couple’ two floors down. Just my luck!

Faith knew it was the couple in 24A and she was glad for the couple but pissed for herself. It was days like this when she hated being an empath, not being able to tune out the emotions. Many days she could tune out the “noise” just fine, but when she was tired or just got too intense an emotion from somebody, she couldn’t. There was no blocking it either. It was and would always be there, had always been for as long as she could remember. In fact, she hadn’t known that all people didn’t feel something similar to this until she was 9 or 10, taking it all in with the blissful ignorance only childhood could give. Although before that, she’d been treated differently by other kids and adults, acting as if she were a shrink. She learned to take it all in stride and work with it, eventually tuning out some of it like one tunes out a radio in the background.

Tonight, however, that wasn’t working with Mr. and Mrs. 24A. She got out of bed and went back to watch some more TV, hoping it would distract her enough to fall asleep. A Nova program was on and it worked, lucky for Faith, and she was dozing fitfully shortly before the show ended.

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Meanwhile, unknown to the now heavily sleeping Faith, someone was closely watching her actions. The figure stood outside on Faith’s balcony, dressed in black clothes, blending into the dark, moonless night. Anyone looking up from the street would have been hard pressed to see the shadowy form. If one looked closely, the silhouette was obviously a woman’s. She was willowy, with straight pitch-black hair and porcelain skin, clearly of Asian descent.

Teddy approached the window and hissed at the woman. She looked down at him and her eyes quickly switched from dark brown to jet-black. Teddy made a whimpering noise and ran back to Faith, waking her up. However, by that time the figure was gone.

Faith climbed up off the couch, knowing that something was different in the air, something evil nearby, although she couldn’t figure out what exactly. Faith scooped up Teddy from the couch and cuddled him, walking over to the window next to the balcony. The sun was not up yet and Faith stared down into the black streets below. There was an old Ford F-150 sitting in the roadway with a grizzled looking man behind the wheel. She could feel danger and apprehension rolling in waves off of him, and when he made eye contact she froze for a moment, pierced by his gaze. The man never once looked away from Faith’s eyes, but still managed to reach into his pocket and pull out his cell phone and then started his truck, driving away from her apartment building.

“That was creepy, Teddy,” she whispered to her cat, clutching her only source of comfort more tightly.

A/N: Alright second chapter. I hope you enjoy. This is where I must say that Kripke's characters start to come into play, just a tiny bit. So, this is probably what you are all waiting for. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I will update soon, if I get some good feedback that I should continue the story.

Chapter 2

Unknown to Faith, the man stopped a short distance down the road, just out of range of both her sight and her empathic reach. The phone was still ringing and he swore under his breath, “Damn it, pick up the phone, you bastard!”

Finally, there was a click and a voice said, “Hello.”

“It’s about time, you son of a bitch! I’ve confirmed it all, she’s an empath for sure, and the demons know about her, so, the ball’s in our court now. She needs to know, Bobby,” the man said.

“It’s definite, Silas?” questioned Bobby.

“No denying it. I’ve been following her around, and I know she’s felt it a bit. Saw her react to a lot of things, including a damn demon that was on her freakin’ door step. They are out for blood and we’ve got to bring her in soon or she’s gonna be lost to us,” Silas spoke with clipped words.

“I want the Winchesters in on this,” Bobby began, “They would be helpf…”

“Are you crazy? Do you want the poor girl dead? Or evil? Those boys have demons and destruction following them wherever they go. I don’t want this job effed up!” Silas roared into the phone at Bobby.

“I’m not comin’ without them. They do a lot of good - more than YOU’LL ever do, you jackass,” declared Bobby. “We’ll be there in about 6 hours, if driving conditions are good. Meet you outside the city limits then.”

Silas snapped his cell phone shut and looked back at the half-mile that separated him from Faith. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Bobby. This case is gonna be interesting.”

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Inside her apartment, Faith was preparing for another day of life and stepped into the shower. Water droplets ran in rivulets down her body, cleaning away sweat and dirt. Faith just wished that it would clean away some of her feelings, or rather, some of the other people’s feelings, she got. But that was not to be. In fact, the sudden rush of extra-close and strong emotions filled her once again. Not the lustful ones of the previous night, but instead gut-wrenching depression and sorrow, coupled with the loss of the will to live. It was a person in the building that was suicidally depressed, and Faith was too close to tune it out properly. She quickly shut off the water and got out of the shower, bracing herself against the sink and dripping all over the floor. Peering into the mirror at her nakedness, Faith only saw someone ugly and without worth. Saw how easy it would be to slam her hands into the glass mirror, breaking it into a million pieces. She could easily see herself grabbing a section of sharp glass, holding it over her wrist, and jamming it into her veins, the rush of blood ending it all.

No, no, no!, Faith shook her head against her mental image. This is not me, this is not who I am, I will live.

For a moment, the desire for death dissipated and Faith reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself, taking some deep, cleansing breaths.

Calm down, you mad girl; you know that this isn’t you. Just accept it and tune it out, same as the rest…and then try to find out who in the building is like this to help them.

Now resolute in her decision, Faith began to reach for her beauty ‘tools of the trade.’ Her eyes fell upon the tweezers in her makeup kit. Once again, her thoughts drifted to all the dark corners in her mind.

Go ahead, pick them up, shove it in that socket. You’re already standing in a puddle. It’ll be over soon, you don’t deserve to live.

Faith stared at the light socket for a moment and then began to cry, sliding down the wall to her knees, sobbing and internally pleading for the emotions to stop. Faith ran her hands through her hair and started pounding the back of her head against the wall, digging deep inside herself.

God, please help me, please, God, I need you now, I need your help. Guide me and save me. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

The words rang as a litany in her head, becoming her personal mantra. Suddenly, something separated inside her, and Faith could somehow feel the differences in emotion. She knew one as herself and one as another person’s. And yes, even the others in the background making noisy emotional chatter. Then peace, direction, guidance, and love. Faith turned her head to the ceiling and marveled at the difference. She could fight this now and she gathered all her will and worked to force the dark emotions in with the other ones.

At first they struggled to blend with her own, but Faith held on to the distinctions and continued to focus, building a wall to make the painful and dangerous emotions less available to her.

Finally, her battle won, Faith laid her head down on the wet titled floor and whispered prayers of thanks. Her next thought was to call in sick, since that emotional beating had left her weak. Besides, she had a person who needed help to find, and if those emotions were any indication, she needed to find them soon. Gathering reserved energy, Faith dressed and made her way to her cell phone, flopping once again on her couch.

“Yes, Mr. Kelly. I’m sorry, I’m terribly sorry, it’s just that I’m not feeling well today at all…flu, yes, that’s possible…achy all over…I think a bus ran over me…no, no, I’m fine. No need to send someone. I’ll just rest. Yes, Frank, thank you. See you tomorrow I hope. Bye.”

Faith was finally able to hang up the phone and relax.

Luckily, her supervisor, Mr. Frank Kelly, was a good man, but overly excitable and nervous. Still, he was understanding, something she needed for her bad days. They didn’t come often, but when they did it was a horrific experience for her, one that left permanent scars on her heart and soul.

“Dammit, Frank, now you got me all nerved up too boot; soooo not what I need today,” Faith murmured into the room, taking a few calming breathes to cleanse her mind and heart and tune out excess emotions.

Time to find the person who is hurting so bad today. I just pray that I’m not too late. I’ve wasted enough time on myself. If only this thing came with lo- jack and an on/off switch.

Faith knew it wasn’t any good to sit and bemoan her life. She got up off the couch, giving Teddy a quick pat on her way out the door and grabbing her keys as she went. She sensed that the person was at least two or three floors above her, but the emotions were dulled. Faith was worried that meant something bad. Sucking in a deep breath of cool air and holding it for a minute, Faith trudged on up the winding staircase, avoiding the rickety old elevators at all costs.

As Faith rounded the second stairwell, she paused, noticing a sudden increase in those deeply disturbing emotions she had fought back earlier. She waited until she regained a bit of her center and calm. Now she was prepared and she walked right to the door, 2D, and knocked. While she waited for the door to be answered, IF it would be answered, she could hear rustling from inside and wondered what words of comfort she could offer the person behind the door. Faith would offer her whole heart, mind, and soul to help the person, but sometimes, she knew, it just wasn’t enough and she would have to back away and know she had done her best.

Finally, the door opened a crack and out peered the mournful gray eyes of a young woman, blonde hair disheveled, a cardigan thrown over her t-shirt to try and hide the scars and bloody cuts on her arms, the sound of a crying baby in the background. Suddenly, it all made sense to Faith and she knew that this woman was suffering from postpartum depression. She offered a shy smile to the woman and held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Faith, and, well, I am new to the area,” Faith began, thinking, One white lie won’t hurt, I could be new to the area. All she needs to know right now is that there is someone here for her.

“So, I was just visiting neighbors and getting to know people and thought, if it was ok, I’d stop in?” The woman stared for a moment at Faith, who could sense her shock and disbelief, but the door opened further and Faith entered the small apartment.

“I’m Marie, by the way,” the young woman softly stated. Her eyes already seemed to be filling up with tears and she sat helplessly down on the sofa. Faith moved to the other room quickly to check on the baby, who was whimpering now, having cried himself out for the time being. Faith made some soothing sounds and then left to sit with Marie.

“It’s ok, whatever you’re feeling. I understand, I won’t judge you. You can’t help it. Sometimes it helps to talk,” Faith began. Gently she probed the woman for information and offered her own insight, and they both discussed how she was alone all day with the baby and felt empty, worthless and guilty. How she wanted to just end it all and was scared that she might end up harming the baby.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hurt so much and I don’t feel like myself. I just want to give up,” Marie poured out in a rush.

“Marie, I know you don’t feel like fighting anymore. Life is full of struggle. It has so many ups and downs. But life is worth it. And you have a wonderful gift from God right now that proves it. What’s his name?” Faith comforted Marie, sending her love and trying to find the right words.

“James. He’s only two weeks old.” She smiled when she thought of the small child in the other room.

“There, see? You care about James. He needs you in his life. And your husband does, too. Plus, you have family and friends who care about you. I know the feelings can be more then you can bear some days. But know that you are loved. You have a beautiful soul and you contribute so much to this world without ever realizing it. You share your life with others, and that is the ultimate act of love and seeing the son you have, I know it’s returned.” Faith reached out and took Marie’s hand, squeezing it slightly to show her that she was there for Marie. Marie looked at Faith and broke down.

“I know what’s right, I just have trouble wanting that, wanting to live. I can’t see the others because I’m lost. But I need to find a way.” Marie sobbed into Faith’s shoulder, finally finding a place to rest and let someone else in.

Faith talked with Marie for hours that day, letting her know that she wasn’t alone, that she was needed and that others would be there for her. She explained that Marie could change her thoughts and behaviors, offering several helpful techniques on how to begin doing that. They also talked about relationships and how they affected Marie and what impact the new baby had on her life.

In the end, Marie was ready to go see a therapist and was able to open up to her husband, who had been unaware of her silent suffering. Faith could feel the slight shift in the woman’s emotions.

Well, Marie is by no means out of the woods but at least others are aware of her situation and she can start to heal the wounds inside her. I hope that she gets help…if not, I might have to come back again.

Faith headed back to her apartment, slowly dragging herself down the stairs. When she got to her door, Faith searched for her keys in her pocket. Once she found them, she lifted the key to the door, but could hardly put it in the lock, her hands were shaking so hard from exhaustion. Leaning her head against the door, she finally managed to fit the key in the lock and turn it over. Faith entered, barely making it to the bedroom, face-planting on the bed. She had given Marie everything she could and had eased some of the pain for the time being. Now her defenses were down to a bare minimum and a flood of a thousand emotions rippled across her psyche, which was just one raw nerve ending. Faith knew that this, too, would pass, once she was able to renew her defenses.

Her body was curled in a fetal position, hands clutching the comforter for warmth and as an anchor to stay focused on the here and now. Once in a while, small whimpers would escape her lips and she rocked back and forth to console herself in this time of hypersensitivity. Faith’s head was pounding from trying to process all the emotions and her flesh was over-sensitized, her entire body over-stimulated from physical reactions to present emotions. Sorrow made her eyes water with unshed tears; anxiety caused her heart to race and stomach to turn over in protest; anger forced her teeth to grit and tensed her muscles even more; passion made her breasts and pelvis ache with desire; fatigue caused her limbs to weaken; acceptance and love warmed her heart and would occasionally bring a smile to her lips; disgust brought shudders of self-loathing; and a myriad of other emotions wracked her heart, body, and soul.

A/N: OK, I finally got around to making some changes to these chapters. Now I can focus on a new one. Mostly it was just editing the grammar and spelling for these first three chapters. However, some sentences have been altered and removed to make it less repeatative. Like I said, I feel a bit more confident about the story now. Thank you REALHUNTRESS! She is the one I know I can turn to for an honest review of the story and what really needs changing. For any errors left, it is soley the author's (my) fault. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thank you. ~Sarah

Chapter 3

“Bobby, I still don’t get what the hell is going on here. You’re being shady about this whole thing. We’re almost to Macomb, Illinois and you’ve only said it’s ‘kinda a hunt’. What’s up with that?” Dean griped with his hands still on the steering wheel, looking through the rearview mirror at Bobby in the back seat, which was odd in and of itself.

“Bobby, just give us a bit of information so we’re not going in blind on this. C’mon!” Sam pleaded with Bobby, too, also looking back at the stoic figure.

“ ‘Told you two that it was for a friend, Silas, in the business. Why can’t you two keep your yaps shut and your eyes on the road?” Bobby growled. He was none too sure that bringing the Winchesters had been the right call after all. This was a rather unique situation and they did tend to shoot first at anything supernatural and ask questions later.

Maybe forewarned is the best case in this situation. Plus, I don’t need them getting on the bad side of Silas. That would just make this whole damn trip a waste of time.

Bobby’s thoughts urged him to speak up; he owed the boys that much.

“Ok, I’m gonna give you the intel and don’t go interruptin’ me while I do it, got it?”

Bobby waited until he saw both boys’ heads bobbing up and down in the darkness of the Impala.

“Alrighty then. Well, ya know Bela? How she was a thief of supernatural items?”

A collective groan came from the front seat.

“Shut it, boys, or else you ain’t gettin’ nothing else outta me, ya hear?”

Bobby hoped his glare was still visible in the dark, but either way Dean and Sam stayed quiet.

“Well, there are others out there who do other things indirectly with the supernatural, too. They aren’t hunters, but they sure as hell ain’t thieves - that’s jus’ to give you an example. Watchers are what they are called; quite a sight different from anyone you’ve ever met. Silas is a watcher, comes from a family of them like you two do of hunters. Watchers - they don’t like hunters much neither, ‘cause hunters get in the thick of the supernatural without thinkin’ much first - or so they say. Silas and his kind, they just sorta observe those individuals with special talents. Kinda like Sam here, but naturally gifted. Nothin’ evil about them either, jus’ like Sammy. Most of the time, a watcher will never let his charge know of his existence. They live their lives using their abilities for good in the world and leave just a bit more goodness in it.

However, sometimes demons take notice of them or, rarely, a hunter. Some hunters, they can’t tell good from bad. So, they go after the gifted ones. In this case, it’s a damn demon after a girl. She’s an empath and Silas is pretty worried that she’s on some demonic radar. That’s the only reason he’d want my help…he thinks that he’ll need to exorcise the demon and hopefully get some info from it first. We’re gonna have to do something different than the normal kill and run, though. If the demon is working for others, well, they ain’t never gonna stop coming after her, you can be sure of that!” Bobby finished with a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest in part defiance and part deflection of any outbursts from the boys.

Dean had a quizzical look on his face as he asked, “What’s an empath?” He looked from Sam to Bobby. “What?”

Both just shook their heads while Sam geared up to explain empaths to Dean during the last leg of their journey.

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Hours later, Dean eased the Impala into a deserted parking lot and killed the engine, turning to look at Bobby.

“So, when are we going to meet this Silas person? ‘Cause I’ve gotta tell you, this whole ‘watcher’ business sounds a bit shady to me. A bit too Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Dean thought for a moment.

“Yum…Buffy. Busty blonde who could handle vamps with a stake. Now that is my kind of girl.” Dean began to daydream until Bobby smacked him upside the head.

“Stop fooling around, you idjit! This is serious stuff and Silas ain’t one to be taken lightly. He’ll expect top notch work from you boys and I vouched for ya’s, so you best be on your best behavior,” Bobby growled at Dean and then turned to Sam. “That means you too, mister! I know you can be jus’ as bad as him,” he jerked a thumb at Dean, “when you want to. So, stay sharp and be respectful. Silas’s family has been watchin’ for generations. He’s helped me outta the crap a ton of times. More ‘en I can count.”

“We’ll be fine, Bobby. I respect what Silas does, but I can’t quite get why anyone would let these people go if they could do a lot of damage,” said Sam. “Now, let’s get out of this car and meet him.”

Bobby grunted, “Sure, Sam, like you’d want the world to know about your…talents. Damn, we’ve been yapping for too long. I’m sure he’s cased this whole joint.” He slid to the door and got out. Sam and Dean got out and followed Bobby to the trunk. Dean popped it and began to rummage around for anything that might help them.

Suddenly, a figure appeared from the shadows. Wearing only black, he was almost part of the night that surrounded them. Silas brought with him an imposing presence.

“It’s about damn time you showed up!” he roared at Bobby and the Winchesters, putting Sam and Dean immediately on the defensive.

“Hey, you wanted us, we came. It takes a while to get across a few flippin’ states!” Dean retorted, his right hand clutching a shotgun he had pulled from the trunk. Sam went for his gun too.

“That’s what I hate about you stupid ass hunters! Always itching to prove you’re the man and you’re ready to fight. Paaw, you guys ain’t got subtly and class at all. Bobby, you numb-nuts, why the Sam-Hill did you bring those two?” Silas ran his hand over his stubbled jaw and blinked his watery brown eyes.

“Good ta see ya too, Silas,” mutter Bobby as he reached a hand out to the man. He glared at Dean and Sam, who put the weapons away for the time being. “I told you they were comin’.”

“See, what’d I say ta ya, though? I told you they attract trouble, prolly ‘cause they start it. We watchers, we just care fer the people, don’t jump to no conclusions.” Silas still eyed Dean and Sam, but he took Bobby’s hand and gave it a firm shake before getting right back to business. “We got an empathic girl who don’t know a flippin’ thing about any supernatural world, other then what she experiences. Demons want her for something, likely that ability she’s toting around, so we need to get near her place and come up with a game plan. Follow me.” Silas headed off into the night and soon Bobby and the Winchesters could see the Ford truck heading for the road.

“The man gets to the point, doesn’t he?” Dean grinned as they all moved quickly into the Impala and followed Silas.

“Ya think, Dean?” Sam smirked. He sat, thoughtful for a few moments before turning back to Bobby. “So, how did you ever come across watchers? They seem to not like hunters much and Silas even seems to resent needing us here.”

“Long story, that one, but I’ll give ya the Cliff Notes version of it. I was a young, dumb hunter and I went after pyrokinetic boy, thought he was a demon starting fires,” Bobby said, his expression growing slightly mournful.

“Dude, like ‘Firestarter’?” Dean questioned with a huge grin on his face.

“How do you even know that?” questioned Sam.

“Dammit, Dean, Sam, would ja give a guy a chance to talk?” Bobby snapped slightly and then a look of sadness swept over his face. “I’m sorry, boys. It’s just…I don’t like talking about it much. But yes, it is sorta like that. Anyway, the boy who could start fires was alone one night and I got the drop on him. I never even thought twice. I just doused him in holy water and slit his throat. Silas don’ah know about this, but the watcher there came at me then. He’d been too far away to stop me from harming the boy.” Bobby shook his head forlornly.

“Well, the kid was starting fires with his mind, Bobby, he would have hurt someone eventually if he hadn’t already. It seems pretty demonic to me.” Sam said, shaking his head at the thought.

“Nah, kid wasn’t a demon. Watcher told me, after the fact, that he went around searching for fires to prevent them. Apparently, the same thing that allowed him to start fires also allowed him to stop them. He’d never hurt a soul in his life, only burned hisself a few times when he was first learning how to use his gift.” Bobby’s head hung low for a moment before he continued with his story. “Anyhow, the watcher gave me a talking to and a beat down I wouldn’t soon forget. Chewed the name of ‘hunter’ to friggin’ bits and tol’ me that I should consider a career change. ‘Course, I was new to the hunt then an’ I didn’ want to give up searching for ways to kill demons and avenge my wife’s death. Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like if I’d chosen the path of a watcher.” Bobby’s eyes watered slightly and then his voice got gruff. “So, where the hell is Silas, anyway? Did ya lose him Dean?”

“Nope, I got him right ahead of me, Bobby. He seems to be slowing up a bit and it looks like we are approaching some apartment buildings. I’m guessing this is it, empathic suite number one. Think she’ll be hot?” Dean raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and turned to Sam, who rolled his eyes and sighed.

Chapter 4

Faith woke up to her stomach roiling. She scrambled to reach the wastebasket next to the bed and dry-heaved into it, bringing tears to her eyes. The emotions were just too intense. When she looked up, she hardly knew what she was seeing and gasped.

“Did you miss me?” asked a petite woman with pitch black clothes, hair, and eyes. The normal with the abnormal was in direct contrast with each other.

“What the hell are you?” Faith breathed, recognizing the evil she’d felt the night before and now understood why she felt so terrible when she first awoke. Utter malevolence rolled off the woman; a diabolical cocktail of the seven deadly sins. The feelings were so overwhelming that Faith felt as if she might blackout from the volume of it all. Hatred tinged all of this person’s feelings, as did despair. Death, destruction, mayhem, madness, fear, jealousy, lust, and greed swirled around Faith and seeped to her core. She wanted to kill this woman in front of her with such force and ferocity that it surprised her. She’d never felt this strong of an urge for blood before.

“Bingo, honey. I’m your hell. Or at least, from hell. Close enough. So observant of you,” the demon remarked sarcastically. She raised her hand and slammed Faith into the wall. It was too easy, the human girl hadn’t suspected a thing. The possessed woman held Faith’s body tightly against the wall so that she was suspended in air.

This might be much easier than I ever dreamed when Lucifer asked this of me.

Faith cried out as her body took the hit to the wall. She struggled to get away, tightening the muscles in her legs and arms. A cold sweat broke out on her brow and her lips were pulled back in a grimace of pain.

This is impossible, thought Faith, Black eyes? Telekinesis?

Suddenly the demon made a fist and Faith’s eyes widened with horror. She clawed at her neck, gasping for air, struggling to form the word, “Why?”

“Why?” the demon parroted back in a mocking tone. “Because I can. Because we’ve got big plans. You’re like a freakin’ gold mine with your empathy. Oh, the things we can do with you and to you.” She moved in closer to Faith, grabbing a tuft of her hair and yanking her head to one side and then the other.

Mustering all her strength, Faith forced her head forward, connecting with the demon’s head and forcing her to take a step back.

“Bitch!” the demonic woman screamed and pulled out a long serrated knife. “I should gut you here and now for that.”

She started to move forward but stopped and looked down. Faith’s legs kicked out uselessly at the demon. Her eyes were bulging and her skin turned a pale bluish color from the continued invisible pressure on her throat, but she still attempted to force out the question, “Who?”

The demon moved in closer to Faith with a wide grin on her face, her eyes still that impossible black color.

“What’s wrong, empath? Cat got your tongue?” She raised the knife and ran the smooth side of it slowly down Faith’s face. It was cold on her cheek and smelled old - of dried blood and past evils. On the hilt were strange symbols and words unreadable to Faith: ôåìñà ãðåøà. She tried to reach for it, hoping to defend herself, but the demon forced her arms down to her sides with a simple flick of her wrist.

“Ah, I can see the question in your eyes. I’m Naamah, Faith, and you’d better get used to seeing me around. We’re going to be the best of friends, don’t you know? Pity I can’t possess you. It’d make transporting you back to, shall we say, “home base,” that much easier. But, the boss’orders say no.” Naamah paused for a moment before continuing, pleased with herself for getting the upper hand with the girl so quickly. “I saw you eyeing the words on the knife, bitch; or was it just the knife you were looking at? A lowly human like you could never wield such a powerful weapon. It’s a knife filled with curses and peril. Pulsa diNura – lashes of fire. That’s what it says. Aramaic, such a lovely dead language.”

It seemed as if Faith’s heart was pounding in her ears, the roar was so loud.

It’s going to explode, she thought.

Her lungs still screamed for air. Then Faith quit struggling and her head slumped against her chest. Her entire body went limp. She had stopped breathing.

“Oh damn, too tight of a hold I guess,” Naamah said flippantly and she dropped Faith’s body off from the wall and watched as the dead weight landed heavily on the floor. Naamah reached down and felt for a pulse on the neck. She got up from her crouched position with a satisfied look on her face.

“Not dead, even better.” Naamah chuckled.

Suddenly Faith inhaled deeply and began coughing violently, bringing tears to her eyes. She felt as if her throat had been rubbed down by a Brillo pad. Unconsciously, Faith reached for her neck and began to massage it in an attempt to remove the horrid feeling there. Naamah walked over and for a second it appeared as if she would offer a helping hand. Then a sawed off shotgun appeared, gripped in both her hands, and the butt rammed into Faith’s head. Blackness and nothingness closed in around Faith.

Naamah snorted in equal parts annoyance and pleasure, saying to herself, “She had to go and make me move her, didn’t she?”

Sighing, Naamah reached down and took Faith’s right arm in her hands.

“At least something satisfying will come of all this, though,” she said, wrenching Faith’s arm to an unnatural angle and glowing with delight as the shoulder popped out of joint with a sickening crack. Naamah began dragging Faith’s unconscious body across the carpeted floor and hoping she was creating a few nasty rug burns along the way.

Great Story so far--poor Faith has no idea. Seems like her Watcher should have clued her in a bit sooner :unsure:

Hopefully Sam and Dean will get there in time to stop the demon's plans. Can't wait for your next update!

Raven
:bird

Thanks for the review! Glad you enjoyed it. I appreciate the feedback. I will update soon!

~Sarah

Chapter 5

Silas’ rumbling truck lurched to a stop just outside of Faith’s apartment. He deftly stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door, leaning against the rusting frame impatiently until the Impala was positioned neatly beside the F-150. As soon as the Winchester duo and Bobby stepped out, Silas began to stride up the sidewalk. Dean and Sam gave each other puzzled glances.

“Um, Silas? Shouldn’t we get some gear before heading into God knows what? We don’t know what’s waiting for us in there. The demon could have been there or set a trap or…” Sam’s voice trailed off as his gaze drifted up the side of the building.

“Get your crap and follow me, then. We don’t have all damn day,” Silas barked.

Dean and Sam quickly tucked away small pistols loaded with rocksalt and Bobby seized a shotgun, which caused Silas to turn red, veins popping out on his forehead and neck.

“What the eff do YOU think you’re doing? At least Dumb and Dumber here went for small, concealable weapons!”

“Ah, Silas, on this we can’t agree. I’m goin’ in prepared no matter what you say. So shut your yap now before I fill it with this here rocksalt,” Bobby threatened, leveling the gun at Silas’ chest with a grim, determined look on his face.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Silas dug his short fingernails into his hands. Dean and Sam glanced from watcher to hunter, waiting for fists to start flying.

“Meebe not. But you don’ wanna find out.” Bobby lowered the gun and began to walk toward Silas. Sam shot Dean a questioning look and then proceeded to follow Bobby and Silas to the apartment. For the moment, all seemed forgiven.

Silas yanked open the glass doors to the complex, walked straight to the elevator, and pressed the ‘up’ button. His face was still slightly red from his bout of anger just moments before, but his expression was calm and focused. When the doors slid open with a slight ‘bing’ sound, they all filed in. Silas jabbed his stumpy index finger at the 13B button.

“How do you know her floor? What’d she do? Invite you in for a heart-to-heart one evening? You give her a few lusty emotions?” Dean quipped, but the smug look was quickly wiped off of his face when Silas smacked him hard on the back of his head.

“I’ve been watching this girl her whole life and what she’s been through. There’s not much I don’t know about her, jackass. And she’s dealt with more than you’ll ever know.” Silas’ eyes shot pure hatred at Dean. Dean wasn’t afraid of a fight, but he knew he’d crossed the line on this one, and he looked down and away from the watcher, rubbing his face with his hand. A mumbled “sorry” was further muffled by the ringing of the elevator as it reached its destination. However, Silas seemed to accept it and barreled out of the elevator and straight to Faith’s door.

“Hold on, Silas.” Bobby reached out and grabbed the man’s shirt.

Silas looked like he was about ready to clock Bobby until he noticed what the hunter was pointing at.

“Son of a bitch!” he whispered. The chain on the apartment door was broken and pieces of wood were scattered all over the entryway. Even the door handle hung at an odd angle, threatening to fall right out of the door. With clipped, military hand signals, Silas motioned for Bobby, Dean, and Sam to get into a tight formation with Bobby leading the way. The shotgun nosed into the front room. Silas followed closely, flanked by Dean and Sam. Signs of a struggle were everywhere. Blood covered a small section of the carpet.

“No arterial spray. Means that no major arteries were hit. Could be a flesh or head wound,” Silas muttered to himself, huddled low to the ground next to the blood.

“It’s fresh, Dean,” Sam said, getting closer to the blood stains.

Silently, they all paused and listened. A muffled voice was coming from the next room, most likely a bedroom from the way the apartment was set up. Slowly and carefully the hunters and the watcher approached the door. With eyes and hands they let each other know where they would be and their role in fighting or handling whatever was through that door. Plan formed in this way, Dean kicked open the door the rest of the way and aimed the rocksalt-armed pistol at a woman sitting on top of a figure lying on the bed.

“Move and I swear to God I’ll blow your head off, skank!” Dean bellowed. Sam and Bobby quickly followed, with Silas hanging back to let the hunters deal with the demon.

Naamah seemed to not hear Dean, still holding a knife in her hand. “Interrupting playtime, my dear. This had such potential to be both punishment and pleasure,” she cooed to Faith, whom the hunters and watcher could now see was duct taped by her wrists and ankles to the bed. One arm seemed twisted at an odd angle. Her mouth was also covered in the silver material and her eyes were wide and glassy. Blood covered the bed where her head lay.

“I’m warning you, you bitch, don’t you dare harm her.” Sam’s teeth were gritted and he raised the pistol and better positioned himself for a kill shot.

Slowly, Naamah turned her black, soulless eyes to Dean and Sam.

“Dean Winchester. My, my, my. What a lovely surprise to see you here. And his wittle swide kick, Swammy. With dear old Bobby in tow. And even an adorably pathetic watcher. How quaint. Too bad you’re all gonna die. Again, for some of you,” Naamah began to laugh, one that was high, cruel, and cold.

“Old my ass!” shouted Bobby, chambering a round of salt while Silas chimed in, “I maybe be quaint but you’re antiquated!”

“Lady, so help me…,” Sam began.

“You’ll what, Sammy? Get yourself killed is what. Oh, and by the way, Lilith sends her regards. As does Lucifer. We love how close the apocalypse is thanks to you two.”

“So, if it’s all so grand and ending so beautifully, why the hell do you need an innocent bystander, you whore?” Dean moved in closer for a better headshot.

Naamah’s face grew more serious and thoughtful. “Why, this little piece of heaven would be a perfect addition to my hubby’s arsenal.”

“Your hubby?” Sam questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Lucifer, deary. Get with it!” With those words she ended the standoff, slamming all four into the wall behind them before they could think or react. Each one fell to the ground like a stone and all movement stopped.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter took so long up get up. I just moved into a new place and settling in took up a lot of my time. If anyone has ever moved before, you'll know what I mean. Anyway, hopefully now my updates can be more regular again, although I do have a vacation coming up soon. Please enjoy the story and let me know what you think, what you like and dislike! ~Sarah

Chapter 6

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“Now, where were we?” Naamah questioned Faith, repositioning herself on the bed and atop of her current play toy. Naamah loved the feel of human skin on skin. Some demons hated it, hated their meatsuits and the struggles they sometimes created and the vulnerability that they placed demons in. Not Naamah. She reveled in it all, that closeness and contact and realness it provided that demonic smoke didn’t. The meatsuit could bleed. Could die. Could feel pleasure more fully. After all, as the demoness of prostitutes, Naamah loved touch and sensuality. Hell could mimic and trick, but it just wasn’t the same.

Meanwhile, Faith’s concussion was messing with her thoughts and emotions but she was fast becoming aware of the situation at hand. Someone, no, make that something was on top of her, planning to do God-knows-what to her. Some others had come, she didn’t know who they were, but they seemed to know how to handle this evil thing that was in her house.

Think, Faith, you have to get those guys to help you out. But they’re down for the count at the moment. It’s up to you to get yourself out of this, then. For now. Then help them so they can help you. Images of “Jerry Maguire” shouting, “help me to help you” appeared.

These thoughts rushed quickly through Faith’s mind in seconds. Naamah was still on top of Faith, but the demon, for she realized that was what it was, was leaning in. She closed in on Faith’s ear and whispered roughly, “I’m going to screw with your mind, soul, and body, darling. Are you ready for more?” Naamah’s tongue slid over and into Faith’s ear. She nibbled at the lobe before biting down, hard. Faith whimpered as Naamah tugged, then screamed as she felt the smallest bit of ear detach from her body. Naamah spit out the bit of ear and grinned as she swung her right leg over to her left so that she was no longer straddling Faith. Blood was smeared on her mouth and she grinned toothily in red, licking her lips in satisfaction.

Faith roared in pain and fear, pulling on her duct tape bindings. Sticky warmth on the right side of her face and head caused her to shudder involuntarily.

“Oh, is the pwoor bwabwy hurtsys?” Naamah cooed with her mock baby voice again. Somehow, having the words come out of those horrid red lips made it twice as bad, a sacrilege to the sacredness and devotion of motherhood. The emotions - of anger, lust, rage - all mixed together and were making Faith more nauseous still. The demoness prowled around the room like a large cat of prey. She kept her eyes on Faith but was focusing on the sounds coming from the wall where she’d dropped the hunters and watcher. Soft swishing of fabric and barely whispered gasps indicated that her adversaries would soon be rising. Naamah quickly used her telekinetic power once more, slamming the prone bodies against the wall yet again, silencing them for a few more moments.

“Looks like play time’s over for now. Pity. I was just starting to enjoy my work. But no matter, my hubby will LOVE you. You’ll be the perfect addition to his collection; that is, with the proper training and grooming. Such a lovely power. But I wouldn’t want it, no sirree, not for all time. Maybe just once. Take a peek and see what those other demonic sonsovbitches are feeling. Especially Lilith. God, how I hate sharing and to have to share Lucifer…” her eyes grew colder and harder, if that was even possible. She reached out and began to remove the duct tape around one of Faith’s ankles. Faith lay perfectly still, waiting for the right moment to do something. Anything to help stop this evil bitch for taking her to hell.

My God, I believe in hell, but for her to actually physically take me there now? I think I’ll skip out on that, thankyouverymuch! But she’s got crazy power. It’s like watching a reject from the freakin’ Charmed series! Naamah’s gonna get it, though. I’m gonna make sure she pays for all this! And for hurting those dudes down there.

Faith gathered her courage and might, focusing on her left ankle, where Naamah was heading. When the duct tape ripped away from her hurting flesh Faith forced it upward with her powerful dancer’s legs, catching Naamah, who thought that her victim was weakened from all the torture, off guard. The demoness’ eyes flashed black and she lost her footing as the kick knocked the wind out of her, forcing her to double-over in pain and with something she was not accustomed to feeling…fear. Faith took advantage of that split second of release from the demoness’ clutches and also of her mangled arm. Due to its odd angle and dislocation, Faith was able to shift over to her side, giving her good arm more leverage. She torqued her body hard to the left and screamed as more weight shifted to her dislocated shoulder. Spots of red, blue, green and yellow dotted in front of her eyes..

Just breathe, just breathe, just breathe.

Faith repeated the words to herself and sucked in the sweaty, metallic scent in the air, trying keep this upper hand with Naamah. Fear and anger and doubt and frustration and pain were emotions and feelings that distracted her but she had the presence of mind to put all her strength into one more tug and, as she did, the tape on her right wrist ripped and she was free.

Naamah grinned as she recovered from her doubled-over position. But that grin wavered a bit and she shook her head. It felt like she was being overwhelmed. There was just too much going on. The room spun around and Naamah’s stomach seemed to drop as she began to question exactly who was in control.

Why am I so scared? I’m a demon for Lucifer’s sake! I should make that bitch tremble in fear. She’s the one hurt. Or am I hurt? Did she hurt me? Dammit! If I could just freakin’ KILL her and get that power or possess her. Yeah, yeah. Screw orders. I’ll try that! I think I should, but what if I hurt HER someone in the possession. It can happen and her body can’t be damaged.

Naamah was still trying to make up her mind as to want to do, giving her head a violent toss before turning to see that Faith was frantically trying to drag herself over to the men in the room. She tumbled into a heap just as she reached them and stretched out her good arm, shaking a shoulder of the nearest man.

“Please, help us all!” Faith pleaded quietly but desperately. The man moaned a bit and glanced up.

“What happened? Where…” he didn’t finish that thought and grabbed a bottle of holy water from his back jeans pocket. Naamah was coming toward them now, seeming to have fought off whatever had made her confident and cold demon nature confused and muddled. But he was quick to react and the holy water splashed on her faster than the demoness had time to react. She let out an ear piercing howl that filled the room, her skin boiling and steam rising off her face. But the man wasn’t letting her get away, already starting a Latin chant that had the demon writhing in agony. The woman’s body went rigid, knees locked, fingers and palms spread to their fullest. Her mouth was opened as wide as it could go and thick, black smoke flowed upwards and away. Demon gone, the woman seemed frozen in her position of horror before falling to the floor, almost in slow motion, and landing with a wretched thump.

Sam turned to look at Faith and they exchanged wearied looks. Sam groaned and lowered his head to the floor, the pounding in his temples more then he could bear at the moment. With the danger gone for the moment, Faith’s adrenaline rush quickly wore off and the pain in her shoulder, back, ear, and head felt like fire and ice. She turned away, vomited, and then lost herself in darkness.

Chapter 7

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Eyelids shouldn’t feel this heavy.

Faith tried hard to force her eyes open. She didn’t know where she was or what was going on. She knew there were other people in the apartment…if she was in the apartment. From another room Faith could hear soft whispers. The voices were troubled, as were their feelings. Her empathy was all messed up, she couldn’t focus on any one thing and it all still seemed a bit muffled and filtered. Not the kind of filter she put up. No, this was something else. Like her body knew it couldn’t handle anything more. So she gave in and let her eyes stay closed. Sleep was still a much needed friend.

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It may have been moments or hours or even days later, but Faith was aware again. Reality sank in like a ton of bricks. It was heavy and course and felt tinged with sadness and death. Again there were voices in the background. But this time Faith forced her eyes to open up. First one lid weighted down with sleep and pain, then another, until slits of light broke through. She saw that she was lying on her bed and the room around her was a mess. She tried to not to be sick again from the smell but her previous emesis was still on the floor and she gagged over the side of the bed. Faith’s defenses were weak and she couldn’t help but begin to react to the emotions that were around her from the people in her apartment.

She curled up into a small ball on the bed, legs tucked close to her chest. Her right arm was hugging her left. Someone had performed a reduction on it and it was now in a makeshift sling. There was a bandage on her ear that made a scratching noise when she moved her head on the pillow. Breathing still took some effort and when she moved just a bit one way that her body didn’t like Faith would gasp in pain.

Slowly, she became aware of all the emotions that were flashing throughout her being. Her mind and body were being tossed in a sea of feelings and Faith whimpered slightly from the onslaught of it all. It was like her empathy had finally woken up after being so traumatized and was in high gear. Curling further into herself, Faith began to gently rock back and forth. Her good arm reached up as she unconsciously began to press her hand to her head and neck, trying to rub away the loss, sorrow, mistrust, anger, fear, pain, and love. Pinpricks of tears formed in Faith’s eyes. Soon they were filled and sliding down her checks slowly and silently.

Sounds of chairs scraping the floor filled the air and muted voices became harsher as those in Faith’s kitchen responded to the soft sounds coming from her bedroom.

“I think she’s awake,” Dean spoke to no one in particular, stating the obvious to fill the silence. Silas was still being a bit tight-lipped regarding their reverse-house guest and Dean was a bit uneasy about having an empath that demons were after in the same house that had been attacked just hours earlier.

“No crap, Sherlock? Gosh, Bobby, you musta scraped the bottom of th’ barrel fer this one here.” Silas pushed Dean out of the way a bit and moved to go into the room first.

“Now, wait just a second, there, Silas. Those boys, Sam especially, helped her. She’s seen your ugly mug skulking ‘round her apartment. Migh’ be best if’n they do go into the room firs’ and ease into things a bit between us all. Whatcha think?”
Bobby looked hard at Silas and held both Sam and Dean back from the watcher. Despite what they had all been through and the common ground they were now on, the hunters and the watcher still had some bad feelings between each other. In the other room Faith could feel this and cried out in anger and pain, “Son of a Bitch!”

Ears perked up and the four men in the hallway looked up at the door to the bedroom and began to rush forward. Dean and Sam both got to the door at the same time and jostled each other to get through, their guns drawn and cocked, clearing the room as fast as they entered it.

Faith felt them before she saw them. The closer they got, the stronger the feelings grew. When they came bursting through the door she maneuvered herself off the bed. She backed into the wall, begging, “Please, no, not now, not any closer.”

“It’s ok, Faith. We’re your friends. We’re not going to hurt you.” Sam was upset and saddened that she didn’t seem to remember him from the other day with the demon.

“Yeah, it’s ok. We’re here to help!” Dean grinned and raised his arms in a surrender pose, letting the gun hang in his hand.

“I KNOW, I KNOW! But you being here, it hurts me. Stop. Please. It’s too much right now,” she whispered as she slid across the wall into the corner furthest from the hunters and the doorway where Bobby and Silas stood.

Dean and Sam moved in a bit closer but Silas roared, “STOP!! She’s too sensitive, you fools!”

Faith was sliding down the wall, sitting in the corner with her one hand on her head. Her eyes were wild and tears, once slowly flowing down her face, ran in torrents as she began to moan and finally screamed in aguish.

“You all don’t get it! You need to back away NOW! You’re too worried; too angry with each other; concerned about everything; fearful of something. And you hurt so freakin’ much. All the loss, the despair, the dread. Even the evil that is searching for you. I can feel it all.” Her words came out in a rush and she pounded her head against the wall behind her. Face scarlet with the pressure of all the emotions, she sought release by digging her short nails into the palm of her hand, then reached across to her shoulder. Red welts blossomed on her skin where the nails landed.

Dean and Sam stopped dead in their tracks and backed away as Silas quietly but forcefully continued to tell them they were “damn fools” and that they were “killing her.” They beat a hasty retreat to the doorway of the room, watching and listening as Faith voiced her rambling thoughts and emotions.

“…It’s ok, don’t worry…mommy’s here…you’re good enough…it’s fine, it’s fine…back off, bastard…I hate you…stupid…can’t figure it out…no…stay back…no…you’re fine, love…hold me, please…just go away…don’t leave me alone…I’m a bad mother-effer…crap…Dammit…sweetie, it’s ok you don’t have to be afraid…they’re coming for me, aren’t they?...stop, make it stop…” The litany of words went on and on. Hunters and watcher alike were mesmerized by the sight and terrified too.

“So, what do we DO now that she’s coco for Cocoa Puffs?” Dean questioned the watcher.

Silas just rolled his eyes in frustration but he was worried. “I guess we jus’ give her her space fer now. Few of us should high tail it out of here to give her a bit of a break. I guess Bobby an’ I can look for signs of demonic activity if you two numbnuts can behave and stay away from her?”

Both Winchesters nodded mutely, glancing quickly back at the empath before shutting the door and stepping outside with the others.

In the bedroom Faith collapsed in a heap, sobbing in pain and relief.

Chapter 8

The Winchesters sat outside the bedroom in silence for what seemed like days to them.

“Bobby and Silas have been gone a long time, haven’t they?” Dean questioned, shifting his weight around in the small kitchen seat, his eyes occasionally darting to and from the door to where Faith stayed.

“What do you think she’s going through in there, Dean? God, it must be so hard on her; she’s been through so much as it is and we’re still here.” Sam’s eyes sought to permeate the door and comfort the girl he didn’t even know yet.

Dean’s attention was now focused on his brother and he leaned back lazily in his chair. “Yeah, so? We’re here to protect her - she should be grateful, not hiding from us.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple, Dean. You remember what I said about empaths, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Dean waved a hand dismissively in front of his face. “Empaths feel what other people feel. So, what’s your point?”

“Dean, she’s feeling what we’re feeling right now! What half the building is feeling right now for all we know. We don’t know her range now that she’s aware again but seriously hurt. From what I know about these…people, things, whatever, they can usually block it out or tune it out but only in the best of circumstances.”

“And this sure as hell hasn’t been the best of circumstances, has it?” Dean sighed and raised his eyebrows, thinking about what that must be like to feel everything all the time for those closest to you. Especially when he did his damnedest to block out emotions and get the job done.

Both Winchesters were lost in thought for a moment. A sharp crack brought them back to the situation at hand, senses alert, searching for the cause of the noise, which became clear when a small, white foot protruded from the opening of the door.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, the tension immediately gone from his body. Sam jumped up and started to walk toward her, then stopped, hesitant.

Should I, or shouldn’t I? Will I make matters worse for her or does she need my help, she was seriously injured by the demon Naamah…Sam’s thoughts trailed off.

“It’s ok. I’m…better…now. You can help me over to that chair there.” Faith pointed to one between Sam and Dean. She spoke softly, knowing Sam’s confusion over the matter and was glad to put him at ease.

With Sam’s support she walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, grimacing from the pain and the effort it took to just walk a few feet from one end of her apartment to the other.

“I’ve sure seen better days, huh, guys? I, uh, didn’t quite catch your names before. I could call you “Turner and Hooch,” but somehow, I don’t think you’d appreciate that much.

“So long as I’m Turner and Sam here’s Hooch,” Dean grinned at the petite brunette with very bedraggled curls in front of him.

“I’m Sam, and this here is my brother Dean.” Sam said, not sure if he should hold out his hand in a formal introduction, but Faith took care of that problem and reached up from her seat to hug Sam’s knees, which were as far as she could reach from the chair.

“Yes, I knew you must be like brothers, if not brothers, from what I felt. I’m so sorry for all your losses. It must be hard giving up so much and dealing with so much evil in your lives.” Faith spoke the words with tears in her eyes.

“How did you know we were hunters?”

“What’s a ‘hunter’? I only know your feelings, not the actual nitty gritty stuff. So, sorry guys, you’ll still have to fill me in on what’s going on here. I know there were two other guys...your dad or something? And a guy who really didn’t like you, so, police officer? She giggled at her own joke.

Dean looked over to Sam and they both shrugged a bit before going into the explanation that they were Sam and Dean Winchester and the fatherly guy was Bobby Singer, the man they worked with and looked up to like a father, who helped them out on hunts for the supernatural and the downright creepy.

“We’re just some freaks on the road, hunting evil sonsovbitches down and hustling our way across the country.” Dean smiled at Faith and winked cheekily at her.

“Right, and the other guy, he’s a watcher, so I guess he’s on your side, if you wanna call it that.” Sam gestured to no one in particular as he referred to Silas.

“Go team Faith, huh?” she said, raising her right arm in the air and wincing as she tried to do the same with the left and realized that it was still healing and in a sling. “Right, can’t use the left arm; that bitch demon decided to pull it out of its socket.”

“Uh, yeah. And she got away too, so, that’s why we’d sorta like to move you when you’re ready…you are ready now, right? Not a southpaw that’s been crippled for the duration of this thing?” Dean sized Faith up again, as did Sam, trying to determine if she could be moved.

“Excuse me? She got away? What was with all the pomp and circumstance of her exit? The mighty Naamah going down in a blaze of glory, smoke, and death?”

“She’s a demon.” Sam said, as if that explained everything.

“Yes, we got that part, now, why isn’t what you did to her a permanent thing?” Faith questioned, a slightly angry look on her face; she was confused. Surely that evil had been damaged beyond repair.

“Well, demons can’t be killed - well, they can be with a special colt and knife that we’ve used in the past but, well, there wasn’t time and I just exorcised her.” Sam watched Faith’s reaction, her eyes widening in horror as realization dawned.

“Oh God, so that…that…THING, it’s out there? It can come back in some other person, the postman, the pizza girl, and attack me again? What the hell!” Faith wailed out. She pushed back her chair and began pacing the floor in the kitchen. Back and forth she went, processing the information she’d just gotten.

“Ok, wait, is that chick still here then? Miss Lucy Liu gone all ‘Kill Bill?’”

“The body is. We’ll take care of it, don’t worry.” Dean shrugged a bit, used to this sort of violence in everyday life.

“Wait, she’s dead? Did you…?”

“No, Faith, we didn’t, it was the demon.” Sam walked over to Faith and took her right shoulder, turning her to face him. “She, well, she just sorta used her up. That’s how demons are; they are evil. And for some reason Naamah wants you in Lucifer’s Army of One and we’re here to try to keep that from happening.”

Chapter 9

Faith's injuries suddenly got the best of her again. The adrenaline rush that she'd had when it was revealed that Naamah was still out in the world somewhere, planning her next move, had left her as quickly as it had come. She slumped a bit against Sam and whimpered a little as her injured arm felt the weight of her body coming down on it.

"Whoa. Hold on there." Sam steadied Faith for a moment and then helped her back to the kitchen chair she had pushed away.

Dean got up out of his chair, making a move as if to help her as well, but Faith waved him off, grimacing with the pain as she did so.

"Don't worry, I'm fine, just, well, when a demon kicks the crap out of you, you tend to need some recovery time."

Smirking, Dean had to admire the spunk of the young woman in front of him. "You don't have to tell us that; we've been around the block a time or two with demons."

"A time or two, Dean? I think your time hunting has messed with your head, made you punch-drunk or something. Next you're going to be shouting 'Adrian.'" Sam went over to the window to look outside for Bobby and Silas while Dean gave Sam a dirty look for the jab at his mental capabilities.

"No sign of them yet."

Sam moved toward the kitchen table again but was too restless to sit still in one place.

Dean whipped out his cell phone and pressed the number three on his phone – Bobby's speed dial number. The phone rang a few times before going to Bobby's voice mail.

"Hey, uh, Bobby, we're going to get outta here now. I know that you said to leave the girl alone, but…" and here he sized up Faith a bit. "She seems to be doing fine; well, she seems movable anyway, and I don't have a good feeling about staying here in the house. Demons are likely to come sniffing around looking for her as she seems to be prime real-estate, so, we're going to head to safe-house 666. See you there."

Dean snapped his cell phone shut and shoved it into his jacket pocket.

"Well, now that's settled, let's move out."

"But what about Teddy?" Faith questioned and then blushed because that was the first thought that had come to her mind.

Both brothers stared at Faith blankly and then back at each other.

"Who?" Dean was puzzled. He thought that everyone was accounted for.

Does she have a boyfriend or roommate or something that we missed? Damn, if she does I'm sure that dude's toast. Naamah would have made sure of that!

"He's my kitty cat, um, I mean, my cat."

Oh God, I sound like one of those horrid cat-people. I can read the headline now: "Body of Spinster Found Alone; Cats Gone Feral".

Faith's face was filled with a rather sheepish expression, and it grew redder by the minute.

"Your kitty cat?" Dean repeated, perplexed at the statement. He just couldn't process 'cute and cuddly' after all the mayhem and madness he had experienced over the last few hours.

"You heard her, Dean, her cat. You sure that you can handle all that? I mean, one did make you scream in fear like a little girl; they are terribly ferocious beasts."

"Shut the hell up, Sam." Dean's eyes rolled and he sighed heavily. "Get one case of ghost sickness and they never let you live it down," he spoke to himself while Faith looked on, confused.

"What? He doesn't like cats, or…?" Faith left the question unfinished, looking from one Winchester to the other. She called for her cat but there was no response.

"I'm sure that he is just hiding. Maybe he got out somehow." Sam's eyes scanned the room.

"Besides, I'm not getting fur in my Baby. She don't deserve that. C'mon, Faith, let's go. We've got more important things to worry about. Like, why a demoness that is married to Lucifer is after you." Dean and Sam helped Faith out of the chair and they walked out into the hall and into elevator.

The journey to the Impala was slow and uneventful and, within moments, they were pealing out of the parking lot. Dean turned on some classic rock for noise and Black Sabbath's 'Paranoid' filled the air.

Faith sat in the backseat of the Impala, emotions laying heavily on her heart and body. The music helped, though. It made Dean less troubled and, despite Sam's very vocal protests about listening to 'mullet rock' and his desire to listen to more mainstream songs from artists like Jason Mraz and Train, Sam enjoyed the music and the friendly banter that he shared with his older brother. It was good to feel joy again, after all the anger and fear the demon had placed inside Faith.

However, her curiosity was also getting the better of her. She'd heard the phrase 'safe-house 666' and, despite her fatigue - or maybe because of it - she started to ramble a bit, asking questions of the brothers.

"So, I'm getting the picture that this is an everyday sort of occurrence for your guys. Where are we going, exactly? What is safe-house 666? I hope it's someplace good, I don't think I could take anymore bad stuff. I think I've had enough to last a lifetime, although I know you guys have dealt with far worse, haven't you? I'm so sorry that I'm causing you guys such issues. I wish there was something that I could change about that. Why is this happening to me? Oh gosh, I am sorry, am I bugging you? I'll stop if I'm bugging you. I am, aren't I? I never seem to know just when to shut up." Faith's eyes were wide with worry.

Great, Faith. Just go ahead and make a complete ass of yourself in front of these two nice guys who just risked their lives to save your sorry behind. Like they are even going to care what you want to know. You'd do best to just shut the hell up.

"Nah, you're fine. We're probably in this for the long haul, so you deserve to know all that is going on." Dean said over the song, 'Smoke on the Water,' putting Faith's fears to concerns about bothering them to rest for the moment.

"For starters, we're getting as far away from here as we can - we'll just cross state lines into Iowa. The safe-house is just a place we know we can go to and regroup, agreed upon just by Bobby and us. You never know who could be listening, so this way demons don't know where we are headed. In this case it's a hotel in Cedar Rapids, Iowa." Sam was casually explaining all of this to her as he shuffled through some papers in their dad's old journal. Not that he expected to find anything at all that would help them. Sam was fairly certain their dad had never dealt with empaths, watchers, and Lucifer's wives.

The three hour car ride came to an end when they reached a small, seedy hotel.

"Home sweet home." Faith looked at the place with a bit of fear and amazement.

My life sure has taken a turn into the bizarre! This is sooo not my normal Holiday Inn choice, she thought, waiting with Sam in the car for Dean to return with a room key.