CHAPTER ONE

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Rating: M

Summary: Sam discovers an expert in demon deals. The Winchesters' quest to find the woman and learn the information she possesses causes more trouble than they could have ever imagined.

Spoilers: Seasons One & Two. Not even a smidgen of spoileration for season Three.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Eric Kripke, Warner Brothers Television Productions, and their many, many well-paid lawyers. I am NOT making any money off this, nor am I trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. Believe that. Any characters you do not recognize belong to me.

Authors' Notes: The ENTIRETY of this story was conceived and written WELL BEFORE the season three premiere. It's no lie, you can ask my beta readers – Bridget and Amy. Also, since some of this fic was "Kripke'd" in the season premiere, we'll just file it under "Alternate Universe". K? Thanks. ::thumbs up::

Questions, Comments, Suggestions: Send to donnacsoprano76 AT gmail DOT com. All flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.

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"O Pitiful shadow cloaked in darkness. Thy actions cause men pain and suffering. Thy hollow soul drowns in thy sins. Wouldst thou like to see what death is like?"

- Enma Ai, Jigoku Shoujo.

-

"Sympathy For the Devil"

By Net Girl

"This is stupid, Sam," Dean Winchester said as he stared across the table at his younger brother. "Really stupid."

He glanced around the dive of a restaurant they'd stopped in, wary of the more unsavory patrons. Ever since the incident which ended the yellow-eyed demon's plans a month ago, he'd been more suspicious of strangers and strange places than usual.

"No, it's not," Sam replied, not as concerned about his surroundings as Dean. He pushed the piece of paper across the table to his brother. "I'd call it pretty damn lucky."

After a moment, Dean picked up the scrap of paper with Sam's scribbling across it. His brow furrowed and he looked to Sam again, confused. "Dr. Shanti Patil? This isn't a disease, Sam. I can't take a pill and make it go away."

"She's not an M.D."

"Then what's the 'Doctor' for?"

"According to the guy who told me about her, it's a PhD in Theology."

"Theology?" Dean repeated, his expression turning less hopeful when Sam nodded. "You aren't serious? God?"

"Makes sense, when you think about it."

"They actually give out degrees in that?" Dean laughed when Sam nodded again. "Man, if I knew you could get a degree in something that didn't exist, I'd have one. Forget school, I'll just give myself a doctorate in Fairies and a masters in Unicorns."

Sam snatched the piece of paper out of his hands. "If you want to laugh off a chance to get out of the deal you made, you're more stupid than I'd originally thought," he shortly muttered.

Dean's smile faded when he saw how upset Sam was. Then he couldn't help but feel bad. Maybe even guilty. Sam'd swore he'd find a way to save him from the deal he'd made with the crossroads demon. A deal which was probably one of the worst anyone in history had ever made. As far as Dean was concerned, it was worth it.

"All right," he said after a pause. "Lemme ask you something. If this chick has answers to getting people out of demon deals, why haven't we heard of her before? Wouldn't somebody like that be a bit popular in our line of work?" When Sam didn't reply, he added, "You think that guy mighta been messin' with your head, Sammy?"

"I called Bobby. I'm not a complete idiot, Dean," Sam said as he picked at the edges of the scrap. "He's heard of her, too."

Dean sat back in his chair, his face blank. "Why the hell didn't he say something earlier?" He'd never forget the reaction Bobby had when he and Sam – a very much not dead Sam - turned up on his doorstep.

"According to him, she's moved around a lot over the years since she's been here," Sam's voice brought Dean out of his thoughts. "He had no clue where to find her, and he didn't want to ... get our hopes up."

"Wait – what do you mean, 'since she's been here'?"

"She's not American. She's English, I think. That's what he'd heard, anyway." He folded the paper and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. "We have a long drive ahead of us. You ready?"

Dean's gaze dropped to the half-empty glass of beer clutched between his hands. "Did he say if anyone ever managed to get out of a deal with her help?" he quietly asked.

Sam shifted uneasily on the other side of the table. "Well ... not to his knowledge. Doesn't mean it hasn't happened."

Dean's head lifted and he studied Sam. He had that tone in his voice, the one he'd get when he wasn't telling everything he knew. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Sammy?" A weak smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Not right to toy with a dead man walking."

"Do you take anything seriously?" He stood up, adding, "Let's go."

Sighing, Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. We'll go." Once he'd dropped an adequate tip on the table for their waitress, they made their way to the exit. "Where is she again? I didn't really look beyond her name."

"Missouri."

Pausing in the doorway, he looked back to Sam. "You are talkin' about the state, right?"

Sam saw the look on Dean's face and shoved his shoulder. "Go on, smartass. We don't have forever."

As the door closed, one of the patrons watched through the front window as the Winchesters' headed for their car. No one else in the place noticed when – very briefly – the man's eyes clouded over until they were completely black.

-

It was a crossroads not unlike any other found in the back country of Middle America. The absence of any houses or trees for as far as the human eye could see made it an ideal spot for such clandestine meetings. Kneeling down smack in the center of it was the man from the crummy restaurant.

Murmuring in a language few on earth could understand, he used a finger to create a series complicated symbols in the dirt. Soon, his chanting came to a halt. Within a matter of seconds after he'd done so, he raised his head. He was no longer alone here at this crossroads.

"You're very prompt when I summon you these days," he casually commented as he rose to his full height. He looked over his shoulder, smiling. "But then you have an unhealthy attachment to this particular human ... don't you?"

Stepping closer, the female form crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "I'm not interested in what you think about any of this," she replied, voice hard and cold.

The man turned fully to face her, giving her a critical once over as he did. "New body?" He shook his head. "Blonde isn't a good look on you."

"Repugnant redneck is absolutely perfect on you," she evenly replied. Her beautiful human features twisted up in disgust. "How someone like you manages a higher position in hell than me, I'll never know."

His smile turned darker as he approached her. "You should show a little more respect, sweetheart. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even be out of hell right now." He took a lock of the silky blonde hair between two fingers. "Such limited power you possess. I may not be as ... attractive as you here but I still have so much more than you. The ability to leave that pit whenever I like, without the help of another, being the first and foremost."

She slapped his hand away. "Not for long, if everything goes the way I've planned, it will all change. I need the Winchester boy's soul in order to be successful." She narrowed her icy blue eyes at the other demon. "Remember why you're even a part of this, and that you're in as much danger as I am should anyone find out."

The grin faded from the human mask the elder demon wore. "You manipulated me into this, bitch."

She smiled sweetly as she placed a hand to his unshaven cheek. "I did ... didn't I?" The amusement vanished when her hand grabbed hold of a his filthy dark hair. "Dean Winchester – you wouldn't have chanced a meeting like this if it weren't important. What is it?"

His teeth gritted as her inhuman strength taxed the pain threshold of his human host. The longer any demon remained inside the same body, the more he became one with it. If he didn't change bodies soon, he'd have to act up and force someone to perform an exorcism on him. That he didn't want. It stung like a bitch.

"It's more than Dean Winchester," he answered, still wincing.

"How so?"

"Shanti Patil." He put a hand to his head as soon as the other demon let go. He chuckled when he saw the expression on her pretty human face. "Oh, yes. So you do remember her?"

Her hands balled into fists as her eyes darkened. "What does she have to do with this?" she hissed.

"Seems as though Sam Winchester found out where she's hidden herself." He inwardly grinned. "When was the last time any of your kind knew that? Six ... seven years ago?" He reveled in the look of pure panic on her face. "Ohio? No one in hell's seen that co-worker of yours since, have they? And ... didn't something happen to all of her contracts?" He pretended to mull it over then snapped his fingers. "They were all broken. Thousands of souls ... released."

The angered crossroads demon seized the elder by the lapels of his human host's jacket and yanked him closer. "If they find her ..."

"As I understand it, she doesn't help hunters."

Her grip tightened. "You don't know these two as well as I do. If they want something from her, they'll get it. Where is she?"

"Missouri." He tilted his head to one side. "Should I go after her, then?"

"No. I can't risk exposure. You'd attract unwanted attention, especially should you encounter ... them. I'll have to enlist non-demonic aid." The other demon looked away, thinking. "Missouri. It isn't far from here." She shifted her attention back to the elder. "I'll need your help in order to do so."

He smirked. "Ah, yes. The inability to leave a crossroads, no matter how you're summoned. Unless someone more powerful ... " He pointed to himself. " ... lends you a hand."

"Yes," she muttered. She hated relying on him. Now, this development had her needing his help more than ever. If she expected to get something done. "Whom should I call upon?" She searched her memory for any deals she'd made in Missouri. Preferably with someone whose contract was up soon. Who would work for her without question and do whatever she demanded to properly get her revenge on that English Indian bitch. "Hmm. Yes." She smiled.

"Know someone?"

Ignoring his question, she asked, "Did you get the other thing I wanted?"

His mouth quirked as he looked down on her. "You do realize how much trouble you'll bring upon yourself if they find out you have it?"

"That's what I have you for, to run interference and cover my ass."

He shook his head as he reached inside of his jacket then removed a sizable wadded up white handkerchief. "I went through a lot to steal this – use it wisely." He drew it back towards him before she could get her hands on it. "Careful you don't cut yourself with it."

Scowling, she accepted the bundle from him. "You're certain this will be untraceable? They won't know when it's used?"

He nodded. "In the right hands. Be mindful whom you give it to, though."

Her fingers gently curled around the object as she lifted her head. "Believe me, the idiot I have in mind won't have a clue as to its other ... abilities."

"Ah. Did you want me to follow them any further?"

"No. It's not necessary. But ..." She slightly smiled. "I do want something else from you." She extended a her arm to him, rotating it until the underside of her forearm was exposed. "You know what it is."

"This one will only be temporary. You won't have more than three or four hours," he warned as he pulled a switchblade out of his pocket. After a moment, he flicked it open. "Be careful where you go with this, too. Should anyone see it on you ..."

"I'm not a fool," she snapped. She nodded to her extended arm. "Just do it."

The elder demon ran the blade of the knife over his left index finger. Once he was certain it was bleeding enough for what he needed to do, he pocketed the switchblade. Taking her arm firmly with his right hand, he used the left index finger – and its blood – to trace a specific array. Once it was finished, it seemed to burn itself into the white flesh.

"Four hours and it vanishes," he reminded her as he let go of the arm.

"I'll remember."

With a slightly mocking bow, he stepped away from her. "Should you require my services again, you know how to contact me."

"Yes." Her tongue slipped across her lower lip as she gazed at the kerchief clutched in her other hand. When her plan was finished, everything would be different.

Everything.

-

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Peculiar, Missouri

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"Julia?" Felton Howard rapped lightly against the closed door of his daughter's bedroom. "Julia, do you want to eat lunch?"

He waited. And waited. No answer.

He stared at the bright unicorn poster which was neatly taped on the door, Julia's name scribbled in sparkly blue marker in an arch over the top of the image itself. As happy as the picture was, it didn't reflect his nine-year-old daughter in the least.

Another knock. "Julia? Are you going to come out today? It's sunny outside. Maybe you'd like to play with one of the girls next door?" He heavily sighed after she still did not answer. "Dammit," he whispered.

"Having trouble?"

Startled, Felton whirled around to find himself face to face with an attractive blonde woman. "Who are you? How'd you get in here?"

"Shhh," she purred as she placed a finger to his lips. "You don't want to upset little Julia, do you?" She smiled.

He leaned against the door, keeping as much distance between him and the woman as he could. Something in her eyes unsettled him. It was ... evil. "I have no idea who you are -"

She clicked her tongue, frowning. "Ooo, I'm hurt, Felton. I can't believe you wouldn't remember me ..." She stepped closer to him, her voice lowering to a whisper as she continued, "After all I've done for you and your precious daughter?"

His eyes widened as he realized whom she truly was. "You ..." he breathed. He slipped away from her and backed down the hallway, his hands up as if to warn her off. "It hasn't been five years yet. I have a few days left. You have no right to be here."

The demon traced her finger over the letters in Julia's name as she appeared disinterested in his panic. "I'm not here to collect on our contract, darling," she softly assured him. Her eyes met his. "In fact, once you've heard my proposition, you'll be ... overjoyed I chose you."

His hands lowered. "What proposition?"

She took slow, measured steps towards him. "How would like to be released from your deal? Free to live the rest of your natural life with your little girl?"

He glanced at Julia's door. "Free?"

A smile on her face, she nodded. "No hell, no more worry. Completely ... free." She rested a hand on his left cheek and guided him to look her in the eye again. "Are you interested?"

Felton bit his lower lip. The sweat which had beaded on his skin in the last few minutes, began to slip down his face and neck. His throat, though, was terribly dry. He could barely push out his words. "What do you want me to do?"

She brought her lips mere inches away from the young man's left ear. She could feel the heat from his trembling body against her host's. "I want ..." Her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders. "... you to bring someone to me."

"Then you'll let me out?" he hoarsely whispered. She smelled strange, he'd noticed. Almost like ... sulfur. It turned his stomach.

"Mmm-hmm. Bring her to me and I'll terminate the contract. No strings attached."

"Who do you want?"

"An old friend of mine. One I haven't seen in so very long."

"What are you going to do after I bring her to you?"

Her nails dug into the soft flesh of his neck. She felt him tense and quietly whimper. "Just bring her to me. If you fail, you will regret it."

Felton's eyes closed. He had little choice. If he didn't, Julia would be completely alone in the world before the week was out. "I'll do it," he breathed. As his eyes opened, he was surprised to find himself alone in the hall. He blinked a few times then turned to check behind him.

The demon was gone.

The door to Julia's room opened and a young girl poked her dark-haired head into the hall. She looked up and down it before she focused on her father. "Were you talkin' to someone, Daddy?" she asked.

He weakly smiled. "No. Just myself." She didn't seem convinced, however.

Her gaze lowered and she pointed to his left hand. "What's that?"

Felton noticed a handkerchief wrapped around something about nine inches long clutched in his hand. Attached to it was a piece of paper. As he opened it, he saw a name and address in northern Missouri scrawled upon it along with instructions. Among which were, 'When you have her, go to the nearest crossroads and drive this into the ground. Do not fail me.'

"What is it, Daddy?" Julia asked as she watched him peel back a fold on the kerchief. His blank expression caused her to prompt again, "What is it?"

"Honey, go downstairs."

"But, I -"

"Julia, go!" He inwardly winced at how sharply he'd snapped.

Crestfallen, the girl did as instructed. Before she descended the stairs, she cast one last glance over her shoulder at her father.

As soon as Julia was gone, Felton let the kerchief fall away from the mysterious item. He gazed in wonder at the nine inch pure silver knife, its blade shimmering in the afternoon sunlight which streamed into the hall via Julia's open bedroom door. The strange symbols meant nothing to him but obviously were quite important to the demon.

His gaze shifted from the blade to the name on the sheet of paper: Shanti Patil. A heaviness fell upon him, even more unbearable than the one he'd carried the past five years. He could only imagine what the demon would do to this poor woman, whoever she was. What could he do?

There was no other option.

-

End Chapter One.