Title: Useful

Warnings: a little self-loathing in the beginning, but nothing that should be too bad

Word Count: 3372 words

Summary: You have to save Dean and Sam from a hunt they're on.

AN: This one is all me, guys. At least I think it is. If there is something like this that has been done already (like it there's an imagine based off this or something like that), please don't be afraid to tell me! I don't own Supernatural.

Useful

You're useless. She thought as she sat in the Bunker, waiting for the Winchesters to return from their latest hunt.

Dean had told her to stay behind to do some 'important research' but she knew the real reason why she was staying behind: she just slowed them down. It seemed logical - even to her. The last hunt they had gone on in Minnesota together was a disaster.

It was a ghost haunting. A simple salt and burn. Everything was straight from the damn books. She's been doing these since she started hunting as a kid. This should have been child's play to her. A piece of pie. But she fucked it up.

Sam had gone to salt and burn the bones while she and Dean were to lure the spirit out. When the two got into the house, she and Dean unknowingly split up. She had walked up the stairs of the old, creepy house without realizing that Dean wasn't next to him like he usually was.

She was distracted by her EMF readings to notice the drop in temperature. She walked into one of the rooms, scanning the walls and vents for ectoplasm or other signs of their ghost when the door slammed shut behind her. She turned around a saw the spirit looming in front of her.

She remembered yelling out Dean's name before the ghost slammed her against a rather large book case. She fell to the ground with a thud and the casings filled with numerous old books tumbled on top of her, trapping her on the floor. She heard a pounding on the door. Dean was calling her name from the other side, trying to get in and save her sorry ass.

The ghost was floating nearer to her, it's face contorting into disturbing images. The area around her dropped another ten degrees. It was so cold around her, she could see her short gasps vaporize in the air in front of her. She was cold. So cold. And she couldn't move to conserve body heat due to the book case on top of her, crushing her lungs and making each intake of breath more painful than the last. What the hell was Sam waiting for, the second coming of Christ or something?

She thought she was done for when Dean - the knight in shining armor that he was - kicked open the door. He yelled her name before advancing onto the ghost, an iron fire poker in his hand. She tried to say something back to him but her teeth chattered too much for her to be able to come up with a coherent sentence, or even a phrase for that matter.

"Hey!" He yelled, capturing the spirit's attention away from her and onto him instead. "Want some of this?" The ghost looked at him, taking the bait and hovering over to him. He swung the poker and the ghost vanished for a moment.

He ran over to her and struggled to lift the fallen book case up off of her. He was able to lift it up enough for her to wriggle out of her entrapment.

"You okay?" He asked as soon a she was free. She nodded and tried - and failed - to rise to her feet. Everything ached from the sub-zero temperature. She slumped against Dean and he put his arm around her, moving them both out of the room.

They got all the way down the stairs when the spirit reappeared in the kitchen to their right. "Dean." She croaked out. He looked at her and then at the ghost, weighing his options. It would have been best to put her down and fight the ghost since he was more than capable on his own. But instead he picked up her still shivering body bridal style and told her that everything was going to be okay. Why in Hell's name he would do that, she had no idea.

Kitchen knives levitated around the spirit and then flew at the pair of hunters. Dean ducked for cover behind a large rocking chair. He didn't let go of her, but tightened his hold on her cold frame - as if he were trying to transfer some of his overwhelming body heat to her deprived body.

"It's gonna be alright. We're gonna be okay." He reassured as kitchen knife after kitchen knife flew around them and into the wall next to her two. She could feel the spirit getting closer as the temperature decreased to insanely low temperatures. She could feel Dean's breath on her face. She looked up and saw the spirit materialize above them. Where was Sam?

Just when she mused that this was how she would going to bite the dust - Dean shielding her body from that of a supposedly easy kill - the ghost vanished with a burning sound into thin air. She could feel the room's temperature rise to normal ranges. Sam must have burned all the spirit's remains. She took a deep breath and Dean did the same.

His phone rang and he dug around in his pocket, searching for it without disturbing the two's current position.

"Man," He said as soon as he answered the call. "You've got a hell of a timing there, Sammy." The younger Winchester was on his way to the previously haunted house as they spoke.

Dean hung up his phone and looked down at her. She gazed right back at him. The two stayed like that - him holding on to her increasingly warming body and her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, just looking at eachother - until the horn of the Impala sounded through the house, penetrating their little bubble of peace.

She had gotten out of his embrace and rose to her feet. He did the same and they walked out of the house, across the street, and into the Impala as if the two hadn't almost been killed by an angry spirit just minutes ago.

And now she was alone, waiting for the Winchesters to return.

She got up and walked from her room to the kitchen. She got out two slices of bread, the jars of peanut butter and grape jelly, and a knife and made herself a sandwich. Just as she was about to take a bite into this luxurious wonder, her phone rang. The offending noise broke the silence inside the vast bunker. 'Yooooooo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want. So tell me what you want, what you really really want' bounced off the walls of the numerous hallways and passages. Don't judge her, that song was the shit back in '96.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and answered, "Hello?" She expected it to be Dean telling her that they were done and on their way back.

The line was full of static. "Hey! You need to get here! We need some help out here!" It was Sam. He was whispering, his voice sounding panicked.

"Sam? Sam, what's going on?" She asked, frantically running around - lacing up her boots and slipping into her jacket. She picked up a set of keys and grabbed her unfinished sandwich as she ran out to the enormous garage.

"They somehow knew we would be here. The whole thing was a damn trap!" She got into one of the cars and revved up the engine.

"Where's Dean?" She asked, trying to cover her panic with facts. She pulled out onto the highway and sped to where the brothers were.

"They got him. I have no idea where he is." She almost missed the exit, she was so terrified. If Dean was gone, how was she supposed to help them?

"Sam, I'm almost there. You can't hang up on me." She turned onto a dirt road and continued on, the speedometer climbing up to one hundred.

"One of the demons are coming towards me." He reported. His already low voice was hushed and had gotten lower. How that was possible, she would never know. She parked the car next to the Impala and grabbed the essentials. Holy water and rosaries went into her coat pocket, a demon blade down one of her black boots, hell she even slipped a small gun into her waistband.

"Sam-"

"I have to go." He interrupted her.

"SAM!" She screamed. It was no use. The line was already dead.

She ran around the old, supposedly abandoned house. She peered through the windows, looking for signs of any of the Winchester brothers. She stumbled - literally - on an open door to an underground cellar. She stealthily descended down the steps and into the darkness. She turned the flashlight app on her phone on and stalked up to another set of stairs going up.

She walked through one of the passageways, glancing at every door in search for either Sam or Dean. She spotted them through a partially closed door in a room that looked like it could be a parlor of some sort. She pulled her gun out of her waistband and checked out how many things were in the room with her friends. There seemed to be four demons - all male - in there with them. The brothers were both tied to chairs.

She silently crept up to the doorway and tried to get one of the boys' attention. Dean looked up and a his eyes widened slightly when he noticed her. She held up one of her fingers to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. She saw that he was trying to subtly removed his blade from his boot. He reached it and quickly put his hands back behind the chair.

"Tell us where the other one in your gang is. The pathetic girl." One of the demons questioned, looking at Sam and then at Dean. Oh, she'd show him pathetic.

"Not here." Dean answered, looking up at the demon in defiance. She heard a slapping noise and watched as the demon hit Dean across his face. She had to bit her lip to keep herself from making any noise. Any harder and he might have taken the freckles right off the older Winchester's face.

It was now or never. The one that seemed to be the head demon of the quartet was too preoccupied with Dean and two of the others were trying to restrain Sam from causing any damage. There was the fourth one that stood away from the others, appearing rather bored. She put her gun back in her waistband and advanced on the lone demon. She was silent as death when she slinked behind the demon. She pulled out her demon blade from her boot and stabbed the demon in the neck, ending it's life. It fell to the wooden floor with a thud. Everyone else in the room turned their heads in the direction where the unwelcomed sound came from and saw her there, a bloodied blade in her right hand and her flask of holy water in her left.

"Who's next?" She asked, baiting them. One of the ones that attempted to subdue Sam ran at her. She quickly opened her flask and swung it across her body, aiming for the demon's face. The holy water got him in the eyes. There was a wail of agony and she felt a little guilty as she stuck the blade through his chest. Two down, two to go.

The last two advanced on her together. All the while Dean had gotten out of his rope bindings and was cutting through Sam's. The two demons came closer and She backed up. She stumbled, losing her blade to catch herself with her hand before she completely fell. She crawled farther backwards until her back in the wall. They were still moving closer to her, evil smirks cutting through their pale faces. Dean was still trying to unbind Sam, but he was looking over at her in panic. This was why she was useless. She couldn't even defend herself properly against two demons. Why did she always need Dean or Sam to save her, as if she were a damsel in distress?

Just as one of the demons tapped the edge of her boot with his shoe, she remembered the gun in her waistband. She pulled it out and aimed. It wouldn't kill them, but it would slow them down enough for her to gain the advantage. Just as she was about to press her finger to the trigger, the demon closest to her screamed in agony and fell to the ground. Behind her was Dean with her blade. He took her hand and lifted her to her feet.

She looked up at him and gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime, apple pie." He smirked and winked at her.

"Cute." Dean turned around, putting himself between the last threat and her. The demon who had interrogated the brothers earlier was the only one of the four left. His arm was held out and Sam was pushed up against the wall. The younger Winchester struggled, but he couldn't break free from the demon's telekinetic hold.

Dean rotated the demon blade in his hand and she brought her gun up. The demon took his other arm and slammed Dean into the other wall. Dean - like his brother - made futile attempts to escape, but he was stuck like glue to paper. He yelled her name and she turned around to glare menacingly at the demon.

"You hunters are all the same, you know. Pitiful, pathetic, useless. I mean, you're Exhibit A for all three of those aren't you?" He tilted his head and sneered at her.

"Excuse me?" She asked, taken aback. His words felt as if they sliced through her chest, branding her for everyone to see. She lowered her gun fractionally, thinking what he said over. Was it really what she came across as? Pitiful? Pathetic? Useless?

He saw her hesitation and continued, "These pretty boys of yours left you behind, didn't they? You're probably just around for whenever one of them wants to get their rocks off." Her lips pursed and she snarled at the demon's taunting.

Dean on the other hand was through with it. "Hey! Don't you dare talk to her like that!" She heard him shout from the other side of the room. She could hear his grunting as he struggled yet again to break free.

His heroism was endearing but now was not the time for him to come to her rescue. She realized that she had to help herself, like before the ghost haunting in Minnesota. She brought her gun up and aimed at the demon's body. Her eyes narrowed in concentration.

He laughed. "We both know you won't do it."

So she did what any reasonable person would do. She shot him in the shoulder.

"Try me." She retorted, her voice impassive. The demon's hold on the Winchesters came undone and they broke free of their invisible restraints. Dean and Sam looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. What was she supposed to do?

She walked up to the demon, who curled his body into a fetal position. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus" She spoke in a low voice, reciting the exorcism ritual from heart. She had memorized it as a little girl. She could have said this in her sleep, to be honest. The demon writhed under her words and she felt remorse for the person being trapped inside his own mind. Now that she or the Winchesters weren't in immediate danger from the injured demon, she could exorcise it from the victim's body. She felt guilt rise up in her throat as she thought about the other three whose bodies were invaded by the demons and how she couldn't save them all. But she kept chanting, ready to get this done and over with so that she could go back to her sandwich. "Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri." She finished strongly, watching as the demon was expelled from the victim's body in a cloud of black smoke.

"Time to leave before he figures out this wasn't just a really bad acid trip." Dean announced, pointing to the unconscious man and pulling her out of the house with Sam close behind. They ran back around the old house and to the parked cars. The boys got into the Impala and she hopped into hers.

As soon as she pulled out onto the highway, she dialed 911. "Hello? Yes. I would like to report an emergency. Someone's been shot." She gave the operator the location of the 'incident'. When the voice asked her who she, she answered, "Just a good Samaritan." And with that, she hung up and kept driving until she reached the Bunker.

Later that night she was alone in the library, on her computer checking her e-mail. She heard one of the chairs scrape against the hard flooring and looked up to see the one and only Dean Winchester sitting in the chair next to her. He was gazing at her like he needed to tell her something either important or personal to him. She quickly closed her laptop screen on a Victoria's Secret bra advertisement and gave the older Winchester her full attention.

"You actually shot that son of a bitch." He finally said after an awkward amount of time spent staring at each other expectantly.

"Yeah, well, you gotta do what you gotta do." She smirked

"Trust me, I know. But still. That was something else." He chuckled, smiling at her. She giggled at the sheer oddity of the situation that happened a couple hours ago. They laughed together until it died out naturally, leaving the room in a somewhat comfortable silence. She noticed the man gazing at her again.

Dean cleared his throat and spoke again. "You know that I don't see you that way. Neither does Sammy." She was confused for a moment before she realized about what he was talking about: the demon and the words he used to mock her.

"Dean-" She started.

"No. This is important." He interrupted, dismissing whatever it was that she was going to say. "I don't think of you as pathetic. I'd never in a million years think of you as useless. And we both know that you're not here for whenever I need to let it go." She chuckled at his phrasing. "Well, not just here for that anyways." He winked, and she full out laughed after playfully rolling her eyes at him.

She got up and walked the short distance that separated them. She straddled him as she sat down in his lap. He rested his hands on her hips."That's good to know." She replied, grinning and leaning into his warm, safe body. Their foreheads touched and all she could see was Dean's eyes and all the different emotions swirling in them.

"I still can't believe you shot him." He mumbled, smiling before he titled his head and kissed her. She smiled into the kiss and forgot about all the negative feelings that had been swarming in her brain for the past week. Dean just had that effect on her, she guessed.

AN: That's it! Hope you liked this. It was really long and took me a couple days to write it, but I'm happy with the results!

Remember to Smile :)

~Becca