#readerxlucifer

But the man lying on the ground didn't answer. In fact, he didn't even move.

“Ey, you hear me?” Dean said and was obviously getting angry at being ignored.

“Dean, I think he's unconscious,” Sam said and slowly walked over to the man only to flinch and retreat when he recognized him. “Lucifer.” he murmured and shot a glance towards Dean. The older Winchester gave him a knowing nod back and then he turned to you.

“(Y/N), Sam and I are going to give you some back up again. You get closer to him, see if he's playing any tricks. Make sure it's him.”

At any other time you would have argued that they were using you as bait or that this probably was a suicide mission, but you had seen the immense fear on Sam's face when he had recognized the devil and you understood that Dean didn't want to leave his brothers side.

So, instead of bitching about it, you started to make your way over to the still unconscious figure. As you got closer you were able to see that he was in his old vessel, which you had seen before, but only for a short while. You had to admit that you much preferred him in some humans body and not possessing your friend Castiel. When you were about five feet away from him you stopped and turned your head to see what the brothers were doing. Both of them were still standing in the distance, pointing their guns at Lucifer, even though all of you knew that those wouldn't be of much use if the devil actually decided to harm you.

Carefully you sneaked to Lucifer’s right side and crouched down slightly.

“Lucifer,” you began, not really having a concrete plan what to do or actually say what to do or say, “Hey, Lucifer,” you said again, much firmer this time. But the fallen angel didn't react.

“For fuck's sake! LUCIFER!” you snapped annoyed and pushed his body. Two gasps could be heard from where the Winchesters were standing.

“(Y/N)!” Sam looked worried “Be careful!”

You ignored his statement and turned to the man lying in front of you again. Only now you noticed how broken he seemed to be. Not even in the metaphorical sense, but quite literally. His vessel seemed atrociously damaged and he wasn't healing at all. Lucifer's hair was slightly longer than it used to be, but not even close to Sam's hair length of course Sam's hair length of course. However, it was disheveled and some strains stuck to his skin because he was sweating profusely. You noticed how his breathing had sped up and how his eyes seemed to be rolling behind his still closed lids.

Without thinking too much about it, you laid one of your hands on his forehead only to notice that he was definitely hotter than he was supposed to be.

“Guys! It's him. And he's sick.” you let the brothers know.

“Yeah, no joke (Y/N). He's the devil, of course, he's sick.” Dean joked and walked over to you with Sam following him close behind.

“He's burning up and not responding to anything,” you said calmly, ignoring Dean's pun. You didn't exactly worry about Lucifer since the two of you didn't have a great relationship to start with, but he remained dangerous to you so it was better to be careful.

“So, you're gonna nurse him back to health, (Y/N)?” Sam suggested and you shot him a glare. “It was what Chuck said, right?” he continued.

“We don't even know if that's what he meant, Sam,” you replied quickly. “And as I said before, this would surely be a suicide mission. Lucifer is probably still unsafe to be around, even when he's sick.”

Dean seemed like he wanted to tune in on the conversation, but he didn't because Lucifer suddenly started coughing and moving, which caused all of you to take a few steps back.

The fallen angel opened his eyes about half way before closing them again. He seemed to murmur something in a language you couldn't understand and then he drifted into an unconscious state once again, his whole body collapsing. For a moment, none of you dared to move or speak, but then you broke the silence with a sigh.

“Okay guys, can you carry him to a bed or something?”  

“(Y/N) are you insane? What if he wakes up and -”

“I'm pretty sure that this oversized chicken here won't do much damage in his current state,” you said, interrupting Dean and rolling your eyes at him. Sam and his brother exchanged a few glances and then proceeded to pick Lucifer up. Sam held him under the arms, while Dean carried his legs. Both brothers were fairly muscular but seemed to have trouble carrying the angel.

“Is an angels grace as heavy as lead? Or why the fuck do angels weigh so much?” Dean complained while Sam was just trying to hurry up so he didn't have to touch Lucifer anymore.

They carried him into the library because they had set up a sofa there a few months prior and no one thought it would be a good idea to give Lucifer his own room.

Once they had almost reached the couch, Deans phone started ringing.

He immediately responded and picked up, letting Lucifer's legs fall to the ground and leaving Sam with all the weight.

“Cas?” Dean answered the phone quickly and seemed to forget his surroundings altogether.

Sam was struggling to keep himself upright as he dragged the unconscious man to the sofa. You hurried to his side, trying to help him but he had already roughly placed Lucifer on it and then quickly hurried out of the room, possibly to catch his breath outside.

You took the time to take in the angel's form once more. He was still sweating a lot. 'Probably a fever,' you thought, 'Do angels even get fevers?'. Sam had carelessly put him on the piece of furniture which you could understand in all honestly, but you still decided to arrange him comfortably and to get him a blanket. Just now you noticed that Dean had left the room.

After you had retrieved a blanket from a storage room nearby, you loosely placed it over the sick man and tucked it in at the sides. Then you grabbed him under the arms and heaved him upwards a little, so he was at least laying straight.

By doing this, you had unfortunately messed up the blanket again so you went to his side once more and leaned over his body to secure it again. As you reached over his chest to grab the cover, a harsh and powerful force knocked you back and you landed on your behind just about two feet away from where you had been standing.

Shocked you stared at Lucifer who had suddenly opened his eyes.

“Don't fucking touch me, you hairless ape!” he snapped before coughing. The man fell back as soon as he attempted to get up and groaned. “I'll kill my father for putting me through this,” he stated angrily before shooting you a glare. “And I'll kill you as well if you don't get the fuck out of my face.”

Anger rose up in you. No man or woman, no not even the freaking devil was going to treat you like this and you were going to show him how things worked around here.

Determined to make him pay you towered over him as you began ranting.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You're not going to do anything! You probably can't even kill me if you wanted to! Hell, I've seen you throw humans across gigantic rooms and now you can only manage to barely knock me over? Look at yourself buddy, you're being pathetic! Chuck made you weaker and you're going to have to deal with that! You know, I thought I'd be real fucking nice and help you a little, seeing as you've been screwed over by your Dad again, but now? You can kindly go fuck yourself, leave the bunker and cure yourself on your own if you can't at least be a little bit polite!”

Alerted by the noise, both brothers stormed into the library in the middle of your little rant. They stood on the side, careful not to disturb you. Lucifer wore an emotionless expression on his face, though you could swear you saw short flashes of anger and defeat in his eyes.

After you had finished, it was quiet in the room for a moment. The atmosphere, however, remained extremely tense and you could have sworn one would have been able to cut the tension with a knife.

“Dean, are you still there? What happened?” Castiel's muted voice broke the silence.

“Yeah, I'm here. Your brother and (Y/N) were just having a little – disagreement,” he answered, still on the phone with Castiel.

“Where is he?” you asked the older brother.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and answered you a moment later, “Close to Mount Logan. In Yukon, Canada.”

“Well at least we knew it was going to be close to mountains.” you sighed. “How long is it going to take you to get him back?”

Dean turned to Sam and raised an eyebrow, “That's almost 3.000 miles, (Y/N). Ten days at least, probably close to 15.”

“(Y/N),” Sam whispered, “can I talk to you outside for a second?”

You simply nodded and followed him outside, where he sat down on the hood of the impala and you leaned against it.

“Do you think you can handle him for that long?” he asked you.

“He'll be annoying, but I think he won't be able to do much in his condition. Just hurry up will you?” you smiled at him, “And be careful out there, there's other moose in Canada.”

Sam grinned widely at your joke and hugged you.

“Make sure to call us if anything happens, alright?”

“Yes, I will. And I'll be in bed by eight every night and I won't be eating anything else but your rabbit food, alright?” you joked, but to be honest, the idea of spending the next two weeks alone in the bunker with a sick and bratty archangel wasn't all that appealing to you.

Sam and you walked back inside the bunker, where Dean had already packed some things for the trip he and Sam would be taking. When he heard you enter the room he looked up at you.

“He fell asleep moment after you left (Y/N). Whatever he has caught, it must be real bad. Make sure you don't get that, alright?” he said as he hugged you.

“Yeah Dean and you go and find Cassie and bring him back in one piece.” You smiled at him, “I'll keep an eye on Lucifer. Chuck probably wanted me to do that so he doesn't start another apocalypse, right?”

“Probably” Dean snickered “but I doubt anyone as sick as he is can do that anyways. We'll leave right now. Will you be alright?”

“I am a big girl, Dean. I can handle myself.”

“Oh, I know (Y/N). I'm just worried you won't be able to handle the devil in our library.”

~TO BE CONTINUED~

Next Chapter → HERE

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“My father may have cursed me, but I am by no means weaker than a lousy human.”

ignoring the insult you answered quickly. “You think Chuck did this to you?”

“Who else would be capable of doing so? He reunites with aunty Amara and suddenly I am crashing in the bunker, half of my power gone but with my grace remaining.”

“Do you really think your father would do this to you?” As soon as you had finished the question you instantly regretted asking it as you saw his eyes light up with rage. From one moment to another his whole aura changed, he tensed up and suddenly appeared to be a lot more dangerous that before.

“MY FATHER!” he began raging and you already knew the story that was going to follow now. “He locked me up in a cage in HELL for having an opinion that differed from his own! I don't know what I did this time to deserve this treatment but I sure as hell am certain he is the one responsible for it!”

“Alright, alright. I think it was Chuck who transported you, but why would he make you sick?”

“I'm not.” Lucifer simply stated.

“You're practically burning, Satan.” you snickered and finally took the first bite of your bagel which you were still holding.

“Don't fucking call me that! If you have to annoy me with your presence use my name!” he barked before glaring at you.

“You don't address me properly, so I'm not going to use your name either. That's how it's gonna be around here, Satan.” you hissed back at him.

But before he could find another snarky remark he was thrown into another coughing fit and you left the room. Maybe the direct confrontation wasn't the best way for Lucifer to deal with problems, you figured. Maybe, he had to be alone and think about everything. If he wanted to be treated well, he had to show you the same respect and you were going to make damn sure the fallen angel would do so.

After spending the whole day in your room you had drifted off into a light sleep. This moment of comfort didn't last long, however since you were pulled from your slumber by your phone's ring tone.

Still drowsy you answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Well, you sound lovely. What's the matter?” Dean laughed on the other side of the line. “Did anything happen with Lucifer?” he added, suddenly sounding worried.

“No no, Satan's just being a douche but you woke me up. So this better be important, Dean-o.” you replied smiling.

“Yeah, we kinda need your help (Y/N). Can you search the library for us?”

“Sure, if you tell me what to look for. What is going on?” You finally sat up.

“We were passing through this city and there have been some murders as we've heard. Young victims, hearts missing.”

“Sounds like a werewolf with an age preference if you ask me.” you answered after you had noted down the information.

“Yeah but get this. They are also missing every last drop of blood and before they died all of them only wanted to consume ox meat. Also, they were described as being 'not themselves' and 'very violent, often committing criminal acts'. Sounds weird right?”

“When doesn't something in our life’s sound weird, Dean?” you joked. “But yeah, I'M going to look into it. Don't you want to get to Cas as soon as possible, though?”

“Yeah, of course, we want to but there is a snow storm in the area and we can't leave this city for the next few days anyways.”

“Alright, I’ll call you if I can find anything. Say hi to Sammy from me, will ya?”

“Sure thing, (Y/N),” Dean replied and hung up.

You asked yourself how the boys managed to run into trouble everywhere they went before laying that thought aside and going straight to the library. You didn't want to waste any time, maybe you could prevent the next victim's death.

As soon as you entered the room your eyes scanned it searching for Lucifer.

“I'm right here (Y/N),” a scratchy and seemingly sore voice from the back of the room, behind one of the bookshelves exclaimed. You immediately noticed that he used your name. It surprised you he even knew or remembered it at all.

“Thanks, Lucifer.” you said, deliberately showing him how this mutual respect thing worked.

You went straight to the lore section of the library and began looking for a book that you knew had to be around here somewhere. It was one of your favorites, to be honest, an entire list of all the supernatural beings known to the Men of Letters sorted after what the victims did or ended up looking like. For researching a case it was as valuable as gold.

When you found the place where it usually was you were met with an empty space. It was gone. But you were sure it had been here a few days earlier and the brothers didn't take it with them, otherwise, they wouldn't need you to research anything for them.

“Lucifer!” you said, maybe he took it?

“Don't disturb me. I'm reading,” he replied and you could hear him blow his nose shortly after.

“The encyclopedia of all supernatural beings known to the Men of Letters, organized by state of the victim?” you asked him as you made your way over to the other side of the room, where he was sitting behind the shelves.

“Exactly. These Men of Letters sure knew how to title a book,” he remarked.

“Could I have that, please? I need to look something up for Dean,” you asked, smiling about his joke.

“No. I feel like reading a little more. It's interesting what kind of creatures exist on this forsaken planet you know?”

“As if you don't already know all of them, Lucifer. I really need it. There are people dying!” you started to raise your voice a little, trying to convince the man without having to physically handle the situation. Even though he was sick, his vessel was still muscular and you weren't sure if you could handle a physical fight.

“People are always dying (Y/N),” Lucifer said and looked up from the book. “And they will always continue to do so.”

“Cut your philosophical bull crap! I'm not stupid! But no youngsters are going to be killed by a monster if I can help prevent that!” you shouted angrily and in blind anger ripped the book away from him, leaving him startled as you left the room and returned to yours so you could research in peace.

This guy – or celestial being – was annoying the crap out of you. Just a few moments after you had thought he was trying to do better he went down the asshole path once again. You concentrated on finding answers for Dean, so you wouldn't get too angry about something you couldn't change anyway. Slowly, while reading your anger finally started to fade and you honestly began to wonder how Lucifer got to be the way he was.

Castiel had once told you about him. Or more like what and who he used to be. Heaven's brightest, the morning star. Brighter and more beautiful than the sun itself was. Cas had described his older brother as a being of justice and liberty and he had spent countless hours talking to you about Lucifer's fall and the consequences that the archangels behavior had caused.

Overall, you could understand Lucifer's relationship issues with Chuck and even him not liking humans made sense to you but what you couldn't grasp - no matter how hard you tried to – was how he seemed to be unable or even unwilling to change his future and how he let his past determine what he was today and how he was going to be tomorrow.

For you, changing and growing as a person had always been very important and it was hard for you to understand him in this aspect. But then again, everybody was different, right? Maybe it wasn't in the angel's nature to change.

~TO BE CONTINUED~

Next Chapter → Here.

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This suddenly pulled the Winchesters out of their trance like state as they started to look around as well.

“Like I freaking care right now” Dean grumbled, but gazed around the park anyways, but the fallen angel was no where to be seen.

“What's that? “ Sam asked and pointed toward a stone tablet which had appeared behind the three of you.

As you got closer to the artifact, you noticed the similarities to the demon and angel tablets.

“Is it just me or does this look like one of God's tablets?” Dean said, confirming your thoughts.

“It does,” you said “Can you read it? What does it say?”

“Well, it's not really a habit of Chuck to write these in English, you know?” Sam snickered “To me, it seems like absolute gibberish. I mean, the first symbol looks like a pair of horns, then there is something like a big square with a door in it.”

A thought flashed through your mind and you began looking closer at the engraved symbols.

“Then there is a med kit? And a girl next to another pair of horns?” you continued “Oh, and then there's to guys. A taller one and a shorter one and they're next to a car?” Before you could say anything else Dean interrupted you.

“Gibberish, just like Sam said. If we want to know what it means, we need to find ourselves a prophet.”

“But I have an idea guys, hear me out,” you said and the brothers looked at you expectantly. “So maybe this is a little bit far-fetched, but what if it's a message from Chuck to us? I mean, the horns could mean Lucifer. The Square is the bunker and the girl is me, maybe? The two guys next to the car are you guys with the impala, of course.”

“And what is that supposed to freakin' mean?” Dean replied his nerves obviously still very strained.

But Sam replied to him quickly “Well, assuming (Y/N) is right, maybe it means that he transported Lucifer to the bunker and (Y/N) should take care of him, hence the med pack.”

“Yeah sure, and you guys are supposed to take a bloody road trip while I have to take care of Satan?” you questioned.

“Honestly, I like the idea of the road trip, but I sure as hell am not going to leave you alone with him,” Dean exclaimed protectively as always.

“But what if it is exactly what Chuck wants?” Sam insisted “He is all knowing after all. Maybe he wants his son to recover, both mentally and physically?”

“And I am supposed to watch him? Like he's a freaking baby and not a powerful celestial being? What the fuck Sam?” you snapped. “I hate the guy and he hates my guts as well! I'd probably be dead within five fucking minutes!”

“Maybe Chuck tamed his powers once more? So he can't hurt you?” Sam shot you an apologetic glance and you knew he wasn't trying to tease you, instead

the tall man was just trying to solve this as much as you.

You sighed and took another look at the table.

“So," you stated, “if Chuck can't even bring himself to write this shit in English, let's try to decode the rest.”

“The dude is god and speaks every goddamn (pun not intended) language to ever exist, but has to write in hieroglyphs. He has some serious issues.” Dean joked.

“Yeah, I think we know that by now.” you smiled and continued to decipher the engravings.

“Next up we have two guys with halos. Angels I suppose, right?”

“That one's Cas,” Dean said, pointing to the one on the right. The figure was wearing a trench coat, so none of you doubted it was him or at least the vessel.

“The one on the left kind of looks like Lucifer’s original vessel, doesn't it?” Sam asked. “Nick was his name, I think”

“It does. Maybe they're both in their own vessels again?” you stated and Sam nodded “Seems logical.”

“Then where is Cas?” Dean asked impatiently as always when anything was related to his angel.

You smirked and said “Your boyfriend is probably in the bunker as well, Dean”

“Then let's not waste any time okay?” Dean replied and headed towards the impala.

“Did he just admit they're dating?” Sam said, just as stunned as you were.

“I think he did.” you snickered and lightly punched Sam in the side. “Someone owes me 50 bucks.”

Sam grinned widely at you. “Yeah, just like the 50 you still owe me from that bet about -”

“Shut up! We agreed to never mention that again! I guess we're good then.”

you quickly cut him off.

“There's a few more at the bottom here,” you stated and pointed at the four remaining symbols. “Mountains, the impala next to them and then there's a palm tree with a light and a dark spot underneath.”

“The mountains are close to Cas. Maybe he will know what they mean?” Sam

questioned.

“Yeah, we should take a picture of this thing anyways,” you replied. “I think I've figured out what the Palm tree is supposed to mean, as well. Maybe it's Chuck telling us that he and Amara are taking a holiday?”

“As ridiculous as that sounds, I think you are right (Y/N).” Sam sighed and quickly snapped a photo with his phone.

“Send that to me, will you? “ you asked and got up.

“Yeah sure. “ Sam answered and followed you to the impala, where Dean was already waiting.

The ride to the bunker was less fun than your road trips with the Winchesters usually were. Most of it was spend in silence, only the radio was playing classic rock in the background. Sam had informed Dean on the last few hieroglyphs and Dean had only nodded in response, obviously still worried about Cas.

It took you four whole days of driving to finally reach the bunker. When you did, Dean was the first one to enter.

“Hello?” he called out, “Anyone here? Cas?”

The lights in the entryway were on and it certainly seemed like someone had been living here the last few days, but no one answered Deans calls.

“Be careful,” Dean said as he turned around to both you and Sam. Slowly, the older Winchester made his way down the stairs with Sam close behind him and you following them even slower.

Suddenly, you were startled by a rattling noise coming from the kitchen. The brothers immediately turned around and followed the noise, signaling you to stay back. They always treated you like this, as if you couldn't handle the hunter life, but sometimes you were thankful for their concern. Oftentimes you felt as if they were treating you like they they would treat a little sister.

You walked backwards slowly, watching the brothers make their way to the kitchen. When you hit the wall behind you, you stopped. This was a much safer position because no one could attack you from behind and you could properly see all of your surroundings.

As the brothers entered the kitchen, you weren't able to see them anymore, so you just remained silent, waiting for any other sound.

“Clear.” you heard Dean say. Relieve washed over you, but then you remembered that there still had to be someone in the bunker.

Sam and Dean returned to you and together you started to inspect every single room in the bunker. There was no sign of Cas or anyone else and you all began to worry about the angel even more.

“The only room left is the garage, right?” you said and tried to sound hopeful.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed “Let's see if there's anything there.”

~TO BE CONTINUED~

Next Chapter → Chapter 2

Masterlist for ‘The Roommate Paradox’

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       Dean crawled out from under the bush he had been hiding under and got to his feet with a huff. Brushing dirt and leaves off his ancient leather jacket, he hoped that he looked presentably like his older self. Setting himself at a confident stride and pace, Dean headed down the hill towards the jail.        It was a short walk from the hill to the jail and Dean saluted to the men at the first guard tower as he approached.        "Hello-Ah! What the hell?" he said going from cheerful to painful in less than a second as a loud clicking noise followed a bright white light in his eyes. While he had been greeting them, the guards had turned on an enormous light to show who he was and as a bonus, blind him and seemingly scald his eyeballs.        "Oh, sorry Dean," a woman's voice yelled as the light shut off with a small boom. "Didn't know it was you."        "Yeah, I couldn't tell," he muttered, blinking painfully to try and clear the red and white blotches from his eyes.  As his eyesight began to clear, red spinning lights, like that of an alarm system, began going off. A loud alarm let out a screech that made Dean's hands fly up to his ears.        "Clear!" a loud male voice shouted over the alarm as a huge creaking sound began and Dean looked up to see one side of the huge first gate opening up with just barely enough room to let a single person in. Dean took his hands off his ears and went through it. Almost as soon as he was through, the gate creaked shut and the alarms shut off. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and began heading towards the next gate. As he walked, a group of three people ran over to him in a sort of military gait. Dean stopped in his tracks when they approached him and the first one saluted.        "Sir," the guard said in a strangely familiar female voice. It was both friendly and irritated, but all business. "Glad to see you back again today. Good to see that the new radio system test worked."        "Uh, yeah, it did," Dean said, forcing a smile on his face. "So, uh, any issues?"        The guard shook their head. "No changes beyond the usual."        Dean nodded in agreement even though he had no idea what this person was talking about.        "I presume your back for another round of questioning?" the guard asked curiously.        "Uh, yes," Dean said, seizing the opportunity to make up an alibi. "Yes, yes I am."        "Alright," the guard said with a shrug, then began to walk away with the other two on her heels. "But I doubt this time will work any way as well as all the other times before."        "Wait!" Dean yelled, jogging a bit closer to her as she walked. The guard stopped and turned around, obviously irritated by his lack of understanding.        "Yes?" she asked in a slightly sarcastic voice.        Dean smiled at her awkwardly. "I might have forgotten how to get in."        The guard sighed angrily and began marching towards a small human sized door that Dean hadn't seen before after dismissing the other two guards. "Since our all powerful leader seems to have lost his mind, I obviously have to babysit him."        Dean followed her closely, wanting to hit himself for not being quicker with an excuse. The guard unlocked the human sized door with three different keys from her belt loop and then pushed it open with over exaggerated motions. She gestured for Dean to enter and he did, not wanting to test her abilities with the gun on her hip.        The guard shut and locked the door behind her before jogging past Dean to the third gate, which also had a human sized door. Pulling up three different keys from the first door, she unlocked this one much quicker and pushed it with more urgency.        "Hurry up," she snapped when Dean didn't immediately run forward to go through the gate. Dean started a bit and hurried through. As soon as she entered the gate herself, the guard slammed the door shut and began running for the front door of the prison.        It was the original door from it's days as a real prison and not a stronghold and when it slid open to let them in, Dean saw that it was six inches thick and made of solid steel. The guard breathed a huge sigh of relief and began unbuckling the chin strap of her helmet.        "Glad to be back inside," she said breathlessly, pulling off the goggles and then the main helmet. As she pulled it off, the woman shook her head and released a long think mane of almost white-blonde hair from a loose braid that had been twisted up in her helmet. Or at least half of it was. The other half of her head was shaved to the scalp and the woman smiled at Dean when she caught him staring. She had turned her head and made eye contact, revealing bright blue grey eyes that seemed to pierce Dean's soul. She was gorgeous, in a sort of punk future way.        "You've seen this enough times, Dean," she said with a slightly condescending grin that only made her hotter. "You should really consider a redesign, they're pretty stuffy."        "Yeah, uh, I'll let the other designers know," he said with a stammer. She really was a pretty girl, but what had surprised him the most was her age. She couldn't be older than twenty, which was the youngest he had seen of all of the survivors (Besides maybe the really young kids who were first generation after the apocalypse).        The girl rolled her eyes and carried her helmet under her arm as she walked. "Come on, I might as well be the monitor for you."        "Monitor?" Dean asked, walking just a few steps behind her. They were heading deeper into the prison through a hall with no windows and lit by a mismatched line of electric lamps and loose light bulbs. The string of lights and lanterns was obviously attached to a motion detector because every time they advanced further down the hall, lights in front of them turned on and the ones behind them turned off. It gave the hallway an eerie look and the shadows contorted the girl in front of him and the floor beneath them.        "Yeah, you know? Just in case she attacks you while your going in for the interrogation," the girl said with a shrug. "I don't like it as much as the next guard, but someone has to make sure that you don't kill her. She's a valuable pawn and I know how much you hate her for what she is."        Dean felt his eyes widen when the girl mentioned the whole 'Stop you from from killing her' and he tried to force a neutral look onto his face when the guard turned around. This whole prison stank of something fishy and Dean wasn't sure what it was exactly.        "Dean? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly as she shifted her helmet to the other arm. "You look like you've seen a ghost."        "Oh, no, it's nothing," Dean assured her, chuckling a bit, then changing the subject. "Hey, um, what do you want me to call you?"        "What you always do," the guard said, rolling her eyes, the worry in her eyes replaced by irritation. "Novak."        "Novak," Dean repeated, recognizing the name from somewhere and trying to put her face to the name. It was right on the tip of his tongue and Dean knew that she was really important some how-        "Novak is my last name," she said in a coaxing sort of tone, breaking his thoughts off abruptly. "You know, I'm Claire Novak."        Dean's couldn't stop the look of surprise and shock when she said her name. "Claire?"        Claire Novak rolled her eyes and began walking. "This act is starting to get old, Dean," she called over her shoulder.        Dean was so shell-shocked that he only started following her again when the light's behind him began to shut off and leave him in the dark. He broke into a run, his shoes slapping on the floor of the hall with a constant 'tap-tap tap-tap' as he caught up to Claire.        "So, what do we know about the prisoners," he asked her, trying to get more information out of her about the prisoners.        Claire suddenly began laughing. It was a happy loud laugh from deep inside of her that seemed to make the lights around them grow brighter. Dean started laughing to, catching the contagious nature of her laugh. They kept walking and giggling and chuckling for the next minutes until Claire was almost in tears.        "Ah," she said, wiping at her eyes and sighing happily. "I needed a good laugh. This whole amnesia thing is pretty hilarious Dean. You know that we have only one prisoner."        Dean frowned and ran a finger across the walls of the hall while they kept walking further in. His finger came away dust covered and Dean raised his finger to his nose and recoiled a bit. It stank a bit like rotting meat and a bit like sulfur.        "We finally found something that works," Claire said happily when she looked back to see Dean recoil. "You should give Alex a day off for finding it."        "What is it?" he asked, only asking for what the substance was and why it was such a big deal, and not for the make up of it like Claire then explained to him.        "It's got sulfur, chlorine, and putrescine," Claire said, stumbling a bit on the last word, then smiling as she got it right. Claire turned back to face forward.        "Wards off shifters, vampires, and reapers," Dean muttered in surprise, wiping some of the dust from his finger to the jacket. He was deeply impressed. This Alex guy was a genius.        "Yep," Claire agreed. "That old leather notebook of your's that you left when you stormed out the last time was the real gem. Where'd you even find it?"        Damn, her hearing's amazing, Dean marveled as they walked. She was very impressive. Obviously growing up in the Apocalypse had helped her develop her sense and skills as well. "Uh, it was my dad's," Dean said, answering her final question as they reached another door.        This door was a standard prison door about seven feet tall with a swinging flap on the bottom to push food in. However, the flap was welded shut and the eye slot was locked with a padlock. Claire pulled out the key ring and undid a large padlock that latched the main door knob. "Alright, I'll be heading to the camera room," Claire said as she pulled the huge door open. "Good luck. Remember, finger print for the second door, retina for the third." She then shoved him inside and shut the door behind him.        Dean sighed to himself and continued walking through the small antechamber to the second door. Instead of a doorknob, there was a square of shining metal with a hand print set into the metal. At the top of the index finger slot was an oval shaped black scanner.              This must be the finger print for the second door that Claire was talking about, Dean said. He jogged over to the door and pressed his hand into the groove urgently. Nothing seemed to happen, but then Dean felt a burning sensation on the tip of his pointer finger and Dean wanted to pull his hand away as the heat increased, but he had to open the door. Finally, when Dean was about to pull it away, the hand scanner made a short chirp and the door swung open. Dean couldn't pull his hand away fast enough and massaged his finger as he walked to the next door.        This door was way more straight forward and all Dean had to do was look into a binocular like device and the door swung open without a sound.        Dean wasn't sure what he was going to see inside: a demon, a shifter, a ghost, anything they had ever hunted over the years. But nothing prepared him to see a girl chained to a chair inside of an almost exact replica of Bobby's panic room, right down to the creaking fan with a devil's trap on the metal. She was wide awake and watching Dean with hate and fear in her eyes as he stood in the doorway awkwardly. Dean stepped into the cell slowly, not wanting to tick her off. He stayed close to the edge of the room, watching her and looking for signs of being more than human.        She was a petite girl, almost gaunt from being locked up for so long and her hair was oily and stringy. Her clothing was a simple halter top blue gown that draped around her ankles and revealed her shoulders. The dress was splattered with purple spots, especially around the leg and chest areas, but almost no area of the gown was untouched. Dean could easily see that it was her blood. She had been very pretty once, but now scars crisscrossed her arms and shoulders and there was a long scar that went down the side of her neck, near her jugular. Her nose had obviously been broken and it was bleeding freshly as she stared at him. Her wrists were latched down to the table with leather straps and from her uncomfortable position, her legs had to be lashed to the legs of the chair as well. The metal chains crisscrossed her chest and stomach, making it impossible for any part of her, other than her head, to move in any way.        Dean had just turned to shut the door when the girl made a rasping noise that sounded like a sentence. Dean shut the door and turned around to face her.        "What was that?" he asked genuinely.        The girl looked furious now, but repeated her words. "You... aren't... him..." she said, her voice rasping.        "Uh, yeah, I am, I'm Dean Winchester," Dean said with a nervous laugh.        The girl shook her head, then leaned her head to the right. Her face had seemed to soften after his words. "Can you give me water?" she asked in the same rasp. She didn't seem very threatening now.        Dean looked to the left and saw a bucket of water with a ladle in it. He walked carefully over to it and then back over to the girl. She had been watching him with something different from hate in her eyes. It was almost... relief.     Dean awkwardly filled the ladle and held it to the girl's mouth. She drank the ladle dry eagerly and took several deep breaths before nodding for more. Dean refilled the ladle and held it to her mouth again. She drank the second one down faster than the first one and Dean kept filling the ladle until she was breathing heavily and didn't open her mouth for more. Dean set the bucket and ladle down next to the chair and watched her while she caught her breath.     "Thank you," she whispered, her voice growing in volume and strength as she spoke. "I haven't had that good of a drink since I got in here."     "Who put you in here?" Dean asked, pulling over a chair and sitting in it so he was at eye height with her.     The girl began laughing. Her laugh was cold and long and almost cruel. Unlike with Claire, Dean had no wish to join in this girl's laugh.     "You did, of course," she wheezed out through laughter, then began coughing roughly. Dean still watched her from the edge of the room. The woman recovered fairly quickly and eyed Dean carefully. "You came for answers, didn't you?"        Dean nodded, not wanting to say anything. The woman nodded and shifted a bit in her seat. "I know the cameras don't have audio. So I will tell you everything, but you have to promise me one thing."        Dean nodded carefully. "Of course."        The woman got an odd look on her face before she spoke. Dean could tell that he wasn't going to like her deal.        "In exchange for my spilling," the woman said. "You either get me out, or you shoot me."        Dean crossed his heart while lifting his right hand up. "Promise."        The woman shifted in her bonds and smiled at him. "Glad to hear we have a deal. And you need to let me out of these. I promise I'll stay in the chair, but I want out of the chains."        Dean headed over to the chair and searched for a lock.        "Their latched to the floor," the woman said loudly. "Hope you have bolt cutters."        Dean scowled and looked around the cell for a hammer. There was one on the table in the corner and he took it, began whaling on the floor chains and managed to free one set of them. Dean went to work with unwinding them and peeled away layer after layer of chains. With each layer, the woman seemed to relax even more. Dean pulled the last set of chains off with a small flourish and she stretched in her seat.        "Ah, that feels good," she said, grinning and closing her eyes. They flicked open and made eye contact with Dean. "Did you know that this is the most free I've been in three months?"        He shook his head and waited for her to start talking.        "Right to the business, are we," she said, a bit irritated, but she shrugged it off. "Alright, well, since you aren't him, I might as well tell you the basics. I'm Y/N, but... only some people call me that. I'm twenty seven years old and married some what happily to... well, I won't get into that now. I'm human as the day I was born and I was taken prisoner three months ago."        Dean waited for her to go on. Obviously picking up on that, Y/N went on.        "I was taken prisoner in a raid on the stronghold I was being guarded in. My husband was a very high up in Lucifer's army and to get me was to get him in his weak spot, like every other guy," she said, a small smile on her face. "My guards were killed and here I am."        "Who was your husband?" Dean asked.        "If I told you, you would think I was crazy," Y/N said with a small laugh.        "Try me," Dean replied, not taking his eyes from her's.         Y/N looked away from him and bit her lip. "I-I can't."        "Do you want out of here?" Dean asked her, his volume rising. "Because if I don't get more info, I'm going to chain you right back-"        "Okay!" she yelled, cutting Dean off. She looked terrified at the prospect of telling him, but swallowed and spoke. However, she spoke so softly, Dean could hardly hear her.        "Speak up," Dean ordered, watching her with a concentrated expression.        "I said Lucifer!" she yelled at him, then shut her mouth sharply with a panicked look.