Jake Tully – strength, Army, Greensboro, NC

Max Miller – telekinesis, Saginaw, MI, father – Jim

Ava Wilson – visions, Peoria, IL, uncle – Bruce Wilson (dec.)

Andy Gallagher – mind control, Salt Lake City, UT

Anselm Weems - mind control, social system, CA?

Lily Noonan - heart attacks, Barrie, Ontario

Scott Carey – electrokinesis

Sam Winchester –

It takes them two hours to pick up the blood trail again and then track it to a remodeled warehouse on the industrial edge of the city near the state highway. The time makes John anxious, and he's close to bursting into the building by the time they know where they're going.

"Wait," Seth snaps as he jogs back to the car they've left halfway down the street.

John follows him. They've already got their guns, and John doesn't know what else is going to be helpful, especially if the demon has a hostage. Seth just pops the trunk and dives in as far as his height will let him.

"You got a plan?" John asks.

Seth emerges from the trunk with the jar of salt from John's house.

"Go around the building and seal off any exit you can find with this."

"I thought salt was useless against these guys." John gives the jar a shake anyway to make sure the salt will pour smoothly.

"The higher ups, yeah," Seth says. "But it should slow down this guy."

He presses a light can of spray paint in John's other hand and slams the trunk shut to go to the driver's door.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" John follows Seth around the car, keeping his voice low only because it seems the thing to do in the dark with a demon ensconced in a building nearby.

Seth pulls his head out of the car again with his journal in one hand, already open to the back pages. He holds it out to John and lets him see the circles of devil's traps outlined there.

"This one should go on the walls wherever you can get it." Seth points out one circle in the middle of the page, bisected by a five-point star with symbols in each open space. The symbols aren't exactly the same as the ones Sammy is supposed to be practicing at home, but John sees enough similarities that they could be the same language.

"It's not as foolproof as drawing a devil's trap around him," Seth says, "but it should keep him in the building long enough for an exorcism."

John looks between the inked drawings and the spray paint can. It'll take him longer than usual to draw these things just because he's going off someone else's directions, not to mention the salt barrier.

"How about you do the drawings and I'll take the salt?" John says.

"You need me to distract the demon while you're working."

"Distract—"

It takes John a minute to connect the pieces, and that's a minute longer than it should.

"You mean you want to go in there with the demon? Alone!" He's in Seth's face again, hissing as angrily as he can without raising his voice. It feels a lot like last night, actually.

"He can't possess me," Seth says calmly. "You're vulnerable, so you get the spray paint."

John's lips pull back from his teeth, but he knows Seth is right. John tucks the jar of salt under one arm and snags the open journal with his free hand.

"When we're done here, you're showing me exactly how to get that tattoo," he says.

Seth gives him a grimace in place of a smile and closes his car door again. He holds his gun in one hand and walks into the front door of the building, not once looking back at John.

It sounds like the stream of red paint makes as much noise as a plane flying overhead instead of the soft hiss it should be. John keeps looking back at the journal propped open in one hand to make sure he's doing this right; he doesn't want to mess this up and risk either himself or Seth. John May not know a lot about the man, but he'll readily acknowledge that he needs Seth.

As he finishes a strange upside down Y on the last door he finds, John hears two voices inside the building. He easily recognizes the deeper one as Seth's which means the lighter, higher voice is the demon. John tucks the spray can back into the bag Seth left him and slowly pulls open the door, cringing when it squeaks on its hinges.

"Where's the girl?" Seth's voice says.

"Oh, you noticed my handiwork?"

John slides his way along the wall, his gun out and held close to his head.

"I should be pleased, but you know," the demon says lightly with a flippant pause, "hunters."

"What do you want?" Seth snaps.

John knows where they are — or at least he has a pretty good guess considering the layout of the building. He doesn't have time to make sure the building is clear, so he just heads for the open floor on the west side. The voices get longer with every step he takes.

"We'll, let's think about this," comes the demon's flippant voice. "Me demon, you hunter. How could this meeting possibly end?"

It sounds like a teenager flipping off to a teacher, and John only recognizes that because of the one time he got called into the principal's office at Dean's high school. He comes to a metal door at the end of the hall and carefully pushes it open with one hand. This one doesn't squeak.

"You killed a woman just to get our attention?" Seth says as John pads softly around the edges of the wide open space that might serve as a factory floor or production area.

"Pfft." The demon makes a noise that sets John's goose hairs on end. "I killed her because Hell doesn't accept collect calls. You wouldn't believe the service charges."

John passes by a large round pipe and has a better view of both Seth and the demon now. They're both standing in the center of the floor like a crazy Mexican standoff, except without weapons. Seth doesn't even have his gun drawn. There's a body lying against the far wall, like it was tossed there carelessly. It's a girl, a young one. John feels sick at the thought of the police finding her like this.

"Who are you reporting to?" Seth demands.

John recognizes the need to get serious, and whether Seth has seen him yet or not John needs to get into a better position. He trains his gun onto Wilson's back and slowly steps away from the wall.

"You think this is an interrogation?" The demon, still wearing Wilson's clothes on Wilson's body, throws it's head back and laughs. "Oh, that's rich. What—"

John sees the demon try to make a move. What move exactly isn't clear, but it involves raising a hand to the roof of the building like it wants to bring the whole mess down on Seth's head. Seth jolts forward and body-slams into the demon's body, knocking both of them backwards. John runs forward, but he can't shoot with the amount of hand-to-hand that's going on.

"Wesson!"

Seth needs to get out of the way, but he's still holding on tight to the demon. A flash of metal appears in the middle of the scuffle, and suddenly the demon cries out, throwing back it's head. Seth has his knife — long and thick like a Bowie — shoved straight through the demon's arm and pinning it to the wall. Seth slams a hand over the demon's mouth like he wants to keep it quiet. At least until John sees the black smoke leaking between Seth's clasped fingers.

"Where's the salt?" Seth shouts.

John fumbles in his jacket to retrieve the salt while keeping a hold of his gun. When he pulls out the half-empty container, Seth pulls on his knife and throws the demon over his right side so they both land on the floor several feet from the wall. John quickly empties the salt jar in a ring around both of them. As soon as he's done, Seth leaps back, still holding his knife but without his gun. The demon coughs, but no smoke comes out of its mouth. It slumps up to its knees and raises a head to Seth and John. Its nose is bloody.

"What did you do?"

John cocks back the hammer on his gun and points it at Wilson's head.

"Who are you reporting to?"

Whatever those symbols were, they're working. The demon twists his head all directions like it's looking for an escape route, then blinks at John with eyes inky black.

"Weren't there three of you lug heads before?" It tosses out with a curious tilt of his head. "What happened to the little guy?"

Little guy makes John think of Sammy, excited to do his homework and eager to learn his new hunting assignment perfectly, and John's hand tightens sound the grip of the gun. And then he remembers that Dean was in Wilson's house yesterday, and the gun nearly goes off.

"He has nothing to do with this." Somehow John's voice is steady. "Answer the question."

The demon turns back to Seth as John shifts just enough that he can see the demon sneering at Seth.

"You haven't trapped me," it says.

Seth takes a hip flask from his back pocket and unscrews the cap without taking his eyes from the demon. John doesn't know what it is, but he's guessing holy water by the way the demon shifts nervously.

"What are you going to do?" it asks. "You can't kill me."

"We're only here for your meat suit," Seth says blandly. "Just tell us who sent you on assignment, and we'll let you leave the man and go back to your boss."

John can feel his back teeth grinding together, but he doesn't actually want to say anything in front of the demon they need to talk. Besides, Seth had been the one trying to talk to Hilton when the man was an arachne. John keeps his gun trained on Wilson's head but keeps his eyes on Seth.

Seth's expression doesn't change as he lifts his flask and pours a stream of holy water onto the arm that's already been eviscerated by Seth's knife. The skin hisses and steams as Wilson lets out a scream that's almost human.

"Meg," it gasps when Seth stops. "She goes by Meg."

Seth recaps the flask with a blank face then glances over at John as if he's checking in. John can't bring himself to lower his gun so it stays up, pointed at the middle of Wilson's forehead. A sudden noise makes John's attention snap to the salt circle. The demon pushes himself to his feet and dives face-first toward the ring of salt. John can see the grains shift as if a breeze is blowing inside the building.

"Sorry, boys." The demon grins with bloody dripping over its mouth and down its chin. "Did you really think I was going to leave such a good meat suit?"

John wonders if his brain has repeated the devil's trap on the building enough to draw it without digging for the journal. Seth, though, doesn't move.

"No, I really didn't."

Seth launches into Latin, starting with Exorcizamus te. The demon's eyes turn black without blinking as its face twists into angry pain.

"I'm going to eat you from the inside out," it hisses.

John wonders if a bullet will slow the thing down. Seth doesn't even pause for breath, and the demon twists in pain again. It thrusts a hand toward the edge of the salt circle again. John takes a step back and fires a shot at the body's feet. It should at least register the pain of the dumb guy it's possessing. The bullet hits the man's ankle just as Seth's arm shoots out against the demon.

"No!"

Seth's arm crosses the salt line, and he shoves at the demon's shoulder. Like that's the best option. The demon claws at Seth's forearm and drags its nails across the skin. Suddenly, the demon snaps back and lets out a scream, flailing against an invisible wall of air where the salt ring circles it. John turns his head, but Seth draws his arm back before John can glimpse more than four scratches across reddened skin. Seth starts spitting out the rest of his Latin as the demon recovers its footing.

"He'll kill you," the demon screams. "You Winchesters aren't half as tough as you think you are. He's going to roast your souls over the Pit."

The voice turns higher and higher until the demon throws its head back and lets smoke pour from its mouth. The smoke rises in the air but stays in a line, like a undulating snake, then dives for the floor and passes through concrete toward the earth. Wilson's body slumps to the ground and stays in the salt circle, unmoving. He's just unconscious, and they'll need to call an ambulance for him and the girl in the corner. Eventually.

John lowers the hammer on his gun and turns to Seth hesitantly.

"You okay?" he says.

"Awesome." Seth has one hand clamped on his injured arm, which is still redder than it should be for a few scratches. "You?"

"Awesome," John says blandly.

"Awesome."

o0O0o

John peels himself out of Seth's car when they reach home again. The downstairs lights are off, but John can see the upstairs bedroom lights peeking through the blinds. He trudges up to the front door and walks in.

"Dad!" Sammy practically slides down the stairs into the living room, already dressed in pajamas.

Dean follows his brother and nearly plows over Sammy when the kid stops short of running right into John's arms. John isn't disappointed.

He isn't.

Dean nods at the man at John's back.

"Seth."

"Are you okay?" Sammy demands before Seth can answer. Or maybe John just doesn't see Seth's answer.

"I'm fine," he says. "Seth needs a look."

"I'm fine, too," Seth says quickly.

When John turns, Seth has shifted his shoulder back like he's trying to hide an injury. Dean rolls his eyes almost as hard as Sammy can.

"Don't be a baby, man." Dean steps forward to take over.

Seth just stares wide-eyed at the teenager and lets Dean pull out his arm from behind his back and push up the jacket sleeve.

"What happened?" Dean says, staring at the raised lines on Seth's arm.

Now that John has a good view, with house light instead of dim florescent, he can see a white scar against the red skin. It's in two little crescents on the inside of Seth's forearm, almost like a bite mark. But John doesn't recognize it immediately from any animals. It could be another protection symbol, he supposes, but it looks too crude.

"What happened there?" John nods at the arm. "The demon hurt more than you from that. It wasn't just the exorcism."

Seth stares at John for a moment before his eyes flicker to Sam and then Dean, who are both paying far too much attention to Seth's arm. John should have waited to ask, maybe.

"It was a hunt that went bad," Seth says finally. "It's like radiation poisoning."

"You were poisoned?" Sammy's eyes go wide, aghast.

Seth shrugs while Dean focuses on rubbing his thumb across the scratches.

"Something like that," says Seth. "No real cure, so I just live with it."

"But you're okay now?" Sam presses, his eyebrows rising to say your answer had better be yes.

Seth blinks at Sam and then lets his mouth twitch up, trying to smile.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he says.

The room breathes a bit more, tension escaping the air around the four of them.

"We got first aid in the bathroom," Dean says.

"No, come upstairs," Sam says immediately. "I got something to show you."

Seth looks a little lost between the two boys, and John puts his foot down.

"You boys need to get in bed."

Dean frowns at John, probably for being included in Sammy's bedtime, but it's too late for either of them to be up, really. But Seth claps Dean on one shoulder with his good hand, and Dean nods slowly. Sam stays where he is, glaring at a pount at John's elbow.

"We're fine, Sam." John nods toward the stairs again. "Get to bed."

"Can Seth come up with me?" Sam almost pouts.

John wants to refuse. Sam hasn't needed anyone to tuck him in for the past year. Unless Dean is doing a nighttime routine John doesn't know about.

"I got some ointment in my room," Dean offers.

John side-eyes his oldest, knowing a compromise when he hears one. But he shrugs and lets Sam pulls at Seth's hand and lead him to the stairs. Dean follows them, and John retreats to the kitchen, flipping on the light as he goes.

John slumps into a chair by the kitchen table and scrubs his hands through his hair. He feels tired, and he can't even argue that it had been a hard hunt. In terms of physical activity, all he did was hold a gun to a man's head. He shouldn't be this tired.

Heavy shoes stomp across the floor as Seth walks down from upstairs and sits down at the table as well. He looks just as tired as John.

"The boys okay?" John asks.

Seth's eyebrows go up until his forehead is made of wrinkles. With his hair hanging almost in his eyes, Seth looks like a hound dog.

"Yeah," Seth says, like he's surprised John asked.

John wishes he had some hard whiskey in the house. Seth looks like needs one, and John definitely has more than one glass in the house.

"The demon said he was working for Meg," he says.

He can't think of any significance to the name, even though he had no trouble recognizing the others Seth mentioned. Can demons even have regular names like Margaret? John waits, but Seth only stares at the table, focusing on his hands. The inside of his arm is shiny with ointment.

"Did you recognize the name?" John presses. Seth keeps his head down. "Seth."

"She's not a Knight." Seth keeps his eyes down, and his voice is gruff. "I don't think— No. But, she's . . . working for one, maybe."

Seth scrubs his palms over his face with a familiar motion. John really wishes he had some whiskey.

"I don't know how much has changed."

"Changed?" John repeats. "You mean you're working with info that's out of date?"

As a hunter, Seth should know how dangerous that is. John frowns at the younger man, although he can tell almost immediately that he's pulling the Dad face he uses on sons who don't get their homework done. By now, he's been a father longer than he's been a soldier.

Seth pulls up his shoulders like he fears for his neck.

"Yeah." He shies away from John just enough to pull his body to one side. "I need to do some research."

John might grant him that, although he doesn't know what kind of research includes finding the names of the Knights of Hell.

"The boys have a few more weeks of school left, right?" Seth's head jerks up suddenly.

John blinks at suddenly meeting Seth's wide eyes again.

"Yeah, but—"

"Are you staying around after that?"

"Not here." John grimaces. They'll stay to close out the school year, but the police know him as a fake agent now.

"I need to check some things." Seth nods thoughtfully and then flaps one hand in a vague westerly direction. "Back at the Bunker."

Which makes no sense.

"What if I met you in three weeks to go over what I find?"

It's not a bad idea.

"Sure. What about Singer's?" John offers.

Seth doesn't react like John's making a concession. His back goes straight so Seth is leaning away from the table, and he tilts his head to give John a sideways look.

"Bobby Singer's?" John prompts. Not like he knows any others. "You know his place."

Seth has to know Bobby's place because Bobby knew him before John did. Maybe Bobby hasn't met Seth in person yet, but Seth can't be nervous about that. No man called Bobby can be that intimidating to a stranger. A suspicion sinks into John's gut and stays there despite his efforts to shake his head back into place. Finally, he just spits it out.

"And the boys know him."

Seth's shoulders sink back down as if that was what he was waiting on. He nods with his eyes more on the table than on John.

"Yeah. Okay," he breathes.

He looks more tired now than when he sat down at the table. John almost doesn't want the man driving.

"You're not leaving tonight," he says.

"I was thinking tomorrow." Seth shrugs.

"You have to check Sam's symbols to make sure he's doing it right." John hasn't even asked the consequences of writing these things wrong.

Seth laughs but doesn't smile. His forehead tightens, and the corners of his mouth pull down.

"Sam already drew the thing four times on walls in his room and Dean's," he says, slumping in the chair. "I gave him one symbol, and he already has it perfected."

"He's a smart kid." John wants to sit a little straighter just saying it.

Seth either doesn't believe him or doesn't care, which is weird because Seth has focused hard on Sammy — on both John's sons actually — since he got here.

"I didn't think he'd take to it this young," Seth mutters.

John eyes Seth without turning. He can't think of a hunter who doesn't have issues, and for a moment he remembers Sam's face years ago when he still didn't know why his dad had to leave at night.

"How old were you?" he asks.

Seth's mouth twists into something between a sneer and a pout that wrinkles his nose.

"About his age." He doesn't even question what John's talking about.

John thinks of days wondering why he doesn't have a dad like other kids. He thinks of the night Sammy fell asleep curled into John's wounded side. Then he stops thinking.

"Show me that tattoo again."

He's going to learn as much as he can to protect his family. And that means he's going to squeeze as much info from Seth as he can before the man leaves in the morning.

A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, especially with it being the last one of this episode. I'm gonna say the Thanksgiving holiday threw me off. I was very lazy for about four days before I had to go back to work.

Be sure to check my profile for updates on the series!

Fia