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Blue Eyed Demons

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CHAPTER ONE: Little Runaway


Riley Wilks was thankful to have been left alone, even if it was just for five minutes as the officer in charge of her went out to have a cigarette. She looked down at the black pants suit she was wearing, thinking how overused this particular outfit had become. After all, this was her seventh funeral in three years. She unbuttoned the jacket as she heard the officers outside walk up the steps.

"What are they going to do with the girl now?" one of them asked. Riley strained to hear the answer.

"I don't know, probably put her in another foster home," the other one said. From the sound of his voice Riley guessed that he was older than the first. Obviously the one in charge.

"What about the case? I heard they found sulfur powder all around the bodies? What's up with that?" the officer asked as the two men walk inside. Riley's guess had been right. The officer was young, mid-twenties at the most, looking very smart in his police uniform. The other was in his forties, dark hair graying at the temples, grey suit a few sizes too big.

"I have no idea about that one. It's stumping everyone in the department."

"Demons," Riley said under her breath. Both men looked over at her, sitting quietly at the table.

"Excuse me?" The older detective asked.

"I didn't say anything, sir." Riley said, trying to sound and look as innocent as possible. "Just singing to myself. Waiting."

"Detective," the young officer said, "I don't know if you have met her yet, but this is Riley Wilks. She's waiting here for social services, I guess."

"It's very nice to met you, young lady," the detective mumbled, offering his hand to her in greeting. She stood and shook his sweaty palm, trying not to wince.

"Are you the detective on my aunt and uncle's case?"

"Yes, I am." He looked as though he was about to go on, when a second uniformed officer came in.

"Sorry to interrupt," he began nervously. "But Mrs. Sanchez is here from Social Services."

Riley was left alone again as the two officers went to speak with the social worker that had been sent to drag Riley to yet another home for abandoned and alone children. Riley sighed as a heavyset woman in her thirties came in the room.

"Hello Riley," she addressed Riley in almost a whisper, as if any loud noise would cause the teenager to break. "How are you doing?"

"Awesome," Riley stated sarcastically. "Takes me ten years to find any remnants of family, and they die six months later. Then I get blamed for it, since my last six foster parents have also died, all from natural causes I might add. I'm peachy."

"There is no need to be rude," Mrs. Sanchez counter, still speaking in her soft whisper. "I know you are hurting, but that is no excuse to be uncivil. Now as you may have guessed, I am here to take you to a foster home."

"I'm not going." Riley stated plainly. Mrs. Sanchez was taken aback by her bluntness. "I'm sixteen, almost seventeen. Can't they just declare me a legal adult. Like those people who get divorced from their parents or something. I am totally able to take care of myself."

"I am sure you think you can, but you are still a minor. Now Officer Miller and I have some paper work to fill out. If you would please sit here while we do that, and you and I will be on our way in no more than ten minutes."

"Oh goody!" Riley said as she slouched down farther in her chair. She watched as they left the room and walked down the hall. Once she could not see them anymore, she reached under the table and grabbed her duffle bag. As it contained most of what she owned it was rather heavy, but she was able to shoulder the wait easily. She looked back again to make sure no one was around then walked calmly out the back door.

As Riley walked across the Baker Funeral Home's large, lush green lawn, she only looked back once. And it wasn't a look of regret, it was only a look of worry that someone had seen her. They hadn’t. They were all too busy inside looking all through the large house for her. She laughed to herself at the image as she came through the row of trees to the highway.

She dropped her bag at her feet to take off the black jacket. She threw that on top of the duffle, then quickly rolled up the sleeves of her white dress shirt. Far off, but coming closer, she could hear the sound of a diesel engine. As the truck came into view, she stuck out her thump in the universal sign for 'hey can I get a ride'. The trucker saw her and started to slow, stopping a few feet in front of her. The passenger door popped open and she ran to climb inside.

"Little young to be hitch-hiking, aren't you?" The trucker asked. She took a second to look at him. He looked safe enough. How could a guy that looked like a flannel shirt wearing version of Santa Clause be dangerous?

"I'm old enough," she stated simply, hooking the seatbelt into its holder. She sat back, happy for the time being.

"Alright," Santa-wanna-be said as he put the eighteen wheeler into gear and started off down the tree lined highway. "So where you headed?"

"Final destination is Nebraska, but I'm good with however far you can take me."

"What's in Nebraska, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Don't mind at all. My dad is there. Or at least my only clue to finding my dad is there. It's a bar that hunters like him frequent a lot."

"What kind of hunting," he asked, keeping his eyes always on the road.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so let's settle with deer," she said, with a sly smile.

"Try me. I'm a pretty open-minded guy."

"Demons and spirits. Sometimes vampires, depending." With that statement, he took his eyes off the road to look at her. She saw from the look in his eyes that he must think she is crazy. She laughed as he looked back to the road. "Told you."

She leaned back and got as comfortable as she could as she pulled her iPod out of her pocket. She put the ear buds in and closed her eyes. Soon, she had drifted off to sleep.


**Three days later**

The old blue suburban slowed to a stop just outside the parking lot of the Roadside Bar and Grill. Ellen watched through the open door as a girl who couldn't be over sixteen hopped out, pulling a green army duffle behind her. Though her face looked so you, Ellen could see in her posture that she was much more mature than girls of her age usually were. She slung the bag with ease over her shoulder as she crossed the near empty parking lot to the open door. She hesitated for only a moment before entering.

Riley took in the room. There were maybe twenty tables scattered around. A pool table was in the back and a long bar with fifteen bar stools along the right side. She noticed that only two of the tables were occupied. One near the pool table was filled with a young couple and their twin toddlers. The other was on the opposite side of the room. Seated there was two men in their twenties with a map spread between them. Behind the bar was the woman that Riley had come here to see.

"You must be Ellen," she said as she dropped her bag at her feet on the other side of the bar.

"Yes, I am, do I know you?"

"Not that I know of, ma'am. But I am pretty sure you knew my father," Riley said matter-of-factly as she produced an old, worn photo. Ellen studied it for a moment, a smile spreading across her face. She remembered the day this had been taken. It was a rare moment when her husband and two others had all been home from a hunt at the same time. She, her husband, John Winchester and Garret Wilks had asked a patron to take the picture. They each had a copy.

"I was hoping, you or one of the two men in the photo might know where he is." Riley continued.

"I haven't seen him in over ten years. And I am sorry to tell you that the other two have passed on." Ellen looked at Riley as a look of defeat crossed her face. "I'm sorry I couldn't help more."

"Do you at least know of a place I could get a room for the night?"

"She's got rooms here," a man's voice said from behind her, startling her. "Don't mean to interrupt. But you look really familiar."

"She should," Ellen said. "She's the spitting image of her dad. You remember Garret Wilks?"

"Oh yeah, sure." He turned to Riley. "I'm Dean Winchester. I've actually been on a few hunts with your dad?"

"Riley Wilks. These hunts weren’t recent, were they?”

"Naw, this when I was younger. About your age actually. About ten years ago."

“I am seriously thinking he fell off the planet ten years ago," Riley said, basically to herself. “This was a stupid idea. I never should have left.”

“Left what?” Dean asked.

“Foster care,” she said. When she saw the confused looks on their faces she knew she had to explain. “I ran away from Social Services after my aunt and uncle died. I hitched hiked my way here. How about that room?"

Ellen went about setting her up with a room, free of charge, just like it was for all hunters.

"This place looks a lot different than in the picture," Riley said as they walked down the hall. "Why did you have to rebuild it?"

"It burnt down two years ago," she answered. "How did you know it was rebuilt?"

"Oh, uh, I guess from the picture." She said, looking down at the floor. "Dean seems nice."

"Yeah," she said, just going along with Riley's change of subject. "He and his brother are good boys. Their father was a good man. Taught them well. Here it is," Ellen said, unlocking the door. Riley pushed it open to reveal a small room with a bed, night stand and open door leading into a bathroom. "It's not much to look at, but I have been told the beds are quite comfortable. If you need anything, just let me know."

"Thank you Ellen," Riley said as she closed the door.



“So, why do you want to help her?” Sam asked, sitting down again after getting them both a beer. “It’s not exactly like a missing hunter is paranormal.”

“No, it’s not,” Dean agreed, taking a swig from his bottle. “But she’s a real sweet kid. She deserves to know if her dad is even alive. I want to help her.”

“Who are you and what did you do with my brother,” Sam teased.

“Shut up, dude,” Dean said very seriously. “I’ve had a change of heart I guess. I mean, I’ve cheated death twice and literally come back from the dead. It’s like I have to make up for it. This is my chance.”

“I say again, who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“I’m being serious Sam.”

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, still trying not to laugh, but wondering how long this change of heart would last. He guessed it would be a week before Dean was back to his old partying, Devil-may-care self.

“Mind if I sit with ya’ll?” Riley said, walking to the table and putting a hand on the back of one of the free chairs.

“Go ahead,” Dean said. She slid the chair out and sat. “We were just talking about helping you find your dad.”

“Really,” she said, visibly brightening.

“Yeah, do you have any more clues as to where he might be?”

“No,” she said as some of the brightness drained from her. She slouched down in her chair a little.

“That’s alright,” Dean said, looking to Sam. He was staring at her, almost looking angry. Dean decided to ignore it. “So, how did you lose touch with him? You said you were living with an aunt and uncle?”

“Yeah, but that has only been within the last few months. And if you are going to help me, I should probably warn you about something. I have a demon after me.”

“How can you say that so calmly,” Sam spoke up for the first time. “That is kind of a big deal.”

“I know,” she said nastily. “I am scared to death of the thing. It’s killed a lot of people to try to get to me. And though I have some training in hunting, I don’t have near enough to save myself.”

Sam and Riley glared at each other. Dean could tell they didn’t like each other, he just couldn’t figure out why. He doubted if they even knew why.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Dean asked, finally breaking the tension. Riley looked to him, pretending Sam wasn’t even there.

“My parents met because they were hunters,” she started. “Both there families had been hunters for centuries. Well, shortly after they were married, they were hunting down a demon that had been terrorizing a series of farm towns in Wyoming. Well, my dad got captured by it and my mom made a deal with it. The thing had to leave towns alone and let my dad go in exchange for her first born.

“Two years later, she had me. It scared the crap out of them, thinking I would be taken away. A few months went by and nothing. But one day she was killed by a different demon. My dad took me into hiding. It either never followed or couldn’t find us. When I was six my dad left me with some friends. That’s when he disappeared.

“The people he left me with were also hunters. They taught me a lot about hunting. Weaponry, fighting, and some rituals. They gave me a pendant to ward off demons. Well, when I was thirteen, the demon my mom had made a deal with finally caught up to me. But he didn’t take me. Instead he killed them.

“Because the state couldn’t find my dad, they put me with the Smithson’s. Two months before the demon killed them. Next was the Coughlin family. Three months. Ten came the James’s. Two months again. A sweet old lady named Margret was killed just four DAYS after I got there. Finally it was the Vissons. A whopping four months. By now, my presence had racked up a pretty hefty body count. Guess who was under investigation for murder?

“Lucky for me, though not at all for them, the demon had made it all look like the now twelve people had died of natural causes. Including my lawyer, who died of a massive stroke at the age of 32 shortly after my name had been cleared.

“During my time in the juvenile criminal system, the state had found my only living relative. My dad’s older sister and her husband. Both hunters. I was able to stay with them for a little over six months before they died in a car wreck. Trapped in a car covered in sulfur. What does that tell you about the accident?

“That is when I ran away. I didn’t want any more lives to be taken on my account. It’s not a good feeling, as I am sure both of you know, what with your father’s deal, and your own deal, Dean.”

“How do you know about that deal?” Sam piped up suspiciously.

“Who doesn’t know about that deal within the hunting community?”

“Valid point,” Dean said, his look daring Sam to say anything else. “Now, anything else that might help us find your dad?”

“Well, I don’t know if he has it anymore, but I remember dad had a rather distinctive ‘68 Fastback Mustang with a 428cj engine and-”

“Okay, we get it,” Sam interrupted. “Fast car. How about a color? That would probably help more.”

“He’s not one for car talk,” Dean said, laughing. “But yeah, color might help more.”

“It’s dark green with yellow pin stripping. Which was why it was so distinctive. He got tons of comments on the color.”

“Sam, you think you could use your computer geekiness to get info on who owns a car like that?”

“Probably,” Sam sulked as he pulled out his laptop.

“This might be a touchy subject for you,” Dean started as Sam typed away on the computer. “I was wondering how your mom died. You said a demon got her. Was it the same one who she had the contract with?”

“No,” Riley said quietly. “It was a different one. My dad never talked about it. My aunt told me it was a very powerful son of a bitch. Got her with a fire that started in my nursery. I was still real young. My dad barely got me out. My mom and older brother died in the fire.”

Dean nearly choked on the water he had been drinking as he and Sam stared at each other in total disbelief.

“You’ve heard of the demon,” she said matter of factly. It wasn’t a question at all. “Your mother died the same way. You call him the yellow-eyed demon. He was after Sam for a long time.”

“Another common hunter story?” Dean asked.

“No, I had never heard it before. I should probably tell you something else about me. I think it’s why the yellow-eyed demon killed my mom. I guess you could say Sam and I are connected in this aspect.”

“Connected?” Sam asked. He and Dean exchanged a confused glance.

“I know you can’t do it any more, cause he’s gone, but you could tell the future, right?” Sam nodded in agreement, looking very skeptical of this girl. “Well, I can read minds.”