3. Bar Fight

Everything seems so heightened: the loud music in this bar, human laughter, even the sound of the plumbing in the restrooms. The smell of alcohol makes my nose wrinkle, and the smell of some of the food makes my stomach growl.

After about a day or two of extra training, Franco had deemed me ready for my first act of chaos. During those two days, I embraced the darkness in me. I embraced being a demon. They counteracted the things that kept trying to surface in my mind, like those three faces, and two others. One had been an older man, I assumed it was possible he was my father. And there had been a woman: blonde hair, kind face, green eyes. I assumed that she was my mother.

On top of faces, some scenes came to me. The memories incapacitated me for quite some time, so Franco let me be as I worked through those muddled memories. Some involved non-human beings. All those scenes were seen from my eyes—my past life's eyes. I know for sure now that this body is not the one I was born with. In one of my memories, I looked into a mirror, and a blonde, brown-eyed girl had stared right back at me.

I'd taken a look at myself in the restroom mirror. My hair is long, thicker, and dark. My face is structured different, and I have pale green eyes. This body is definitely not mine. This is not the body I had died in.

Franco and I linger at the bar, a few drinks already downed by the both of us. We pick on some greasy nachos that we're able to down. I only say this because demons and salt don't mix, not when the salt is in huge quantities. If it's minimal in food, it's easy to overlook.

"You want to just wreck the place?" I ask amidst the chatter. "Cause a massacre? I'm game. Or we could start a fight and watch them tear each other apart."

Franco chuckles. "That enthusiasm is really adorable on you."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, shut up." I pop a soaked nacho into my mouth. So far, we've been lying low.

It's the middle of the day, but I can tell from the shadows in the bar that the sun is starting to set. I lick my lips. My veins are burning with the desire to cause chaos. Why not? That's what I do now. It's what demons are supposed to do. My past doesn't matter, no matter what I see.

"How about we pick a fight?" Franco suggests. "Or, I start a fight, you pick your first kill. Gets your feet wet, you know?"

"You sure I'm ready for that?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Aves, with what you've showed me over the past few days, you're more than ready. Now it's time to completely cross over. Make the transition complete, in a way."

"Hmm." I sip on my beer bottle. "How about you start, and I follow your lead?"

"Mm, all right. Challenge accepted." Franco tips his bottle back, downing the rest of it. He looks around the bar, and I get taken aback as he launches the empty bottle at someone down at the other end of the bar. We hear a crash, and some startled cries, some loud cursing.

"You couldn't have just started a fight with me and then have it branch off from there?" I hiss to him.

"Hey, you said you'd follow my lead."

"Hey, asshole!" a lean man about the size of Franco comes charging over, flecks of broken beer bottle still in his hair.

"Oh, sorry, man. Bottle slipped," says Franco. I watch in interest.

"Bottle slipped my ass." He grabs Franco by the shirt collar.

"Hey, mind leaving my friend alone there, pal?" I slide off my bar stool and stand beside Franco.

The gray eyes look at me in amusement. "Sorry, sweetheart, you shouldn't get involved with the big boys."

I grimace. "I asked you a question. Mind answering it for me?"

"Go home, sweetheart, before things turn ugly."

I give Gray Eyes a shove, and send him flying across the floor. I don't look surprised by my strength, but he does. He jumps to his feet.

"What? You want to come back for seconds?" I say loudly. All chatter stops and eyes go to me.

"You bitch!"

I duck as Gray Eyes tries to swing at me. I knock him back into other people at the bar, who in turn are too drunk and start fighting amongst each other. Franco and I defend ourselves against the drunk fighters. I flash my demon eyes to a few of the humans, and some of them squeal in fright. I end up twisting a guy's arm who tries to grab my hair. Franco and I don't use our powers, our strength alone keeps the fighters at bay from us.

"Your choice of the litter, Aves!" Franco shouts as he sends a drunk over the bar and behind it. "I can go all day with this!"

I pick the guy that Franco hit with his beer bottle and send us both flying across tables, knocking over chairs and whatnot. Innocents run out of the bar before they're collateral damage. The adrenaline kicks in for me, and I take Gray Eyes through the window of the bar. The glass shatters as our bodies break through it, tiny shards sprinkle onto the sidewalk and our bodies. The bar noise is magnified and introduced to the outside of Lebanon, Kansas.

"When I'm through with you..." Gray Eyes spits as he picks himself up off the ground. He wipes the blood off his mouth.

"Oh, baby," I croon, tisking as I get to my feet. I show my demon eyes. "You actually think you have a chance of beating me. That's cute."

Gray Eyes shakes his head in disbelief, blinks to try and prove that what he sees is a fluke. He pulls out a knife, and I pout.

"Really?" I ask, a little irritated. "Well, I guess this'll make it more interesting."

I watch in amusement as Gray Eyes stumbles at a run for me. I chuckle, and with a flick of my hand, send him flying down the sidewalk. Good thing cars are too fast going by and there are no passersby in my way. They don't want to be collateral damage, because I have a hankering to kill now. Mm, the thrill of my first kill. So exciting.

Gray Eyes is stunned, lying on his back as I pick him up by his throat. He discards the knife on the sidewalk, and I nudge it away, far from his reach. His large hands try to remove mine, but it's like he's not even trying.

"Look at this, how cute!" I sing. "A man is getting his ass kicked by a woman." I throw him out of sight, towards the side of the bar. I stalk towards him, pushing him against the wall with the power I know I possess. Gray Eyes struggles, his glazed eyes now full of worry. "Don't worry, baby, I'll make it quick and painless for you."

The sudden noise of slamming car doors distracts me, throws me off balance. I turn wildly and see two strangers. I stumble back, startled, as I don't see their vessels but the beings inside the vessels. They aren't demons, I can tell that much. They're different from me, something I don't know. Something that I don't understand.

Right now, they're something I need to get away from. I'm not sure it's wise to pick a fight when I'm outnumbered two to one.

"I was busy," I snap at them both. The dark-haired woman regards me with guarded blue eyes. The man beside her bearing a trench coat is switching his eyes between his partner and me. I ignore the light throbbing in my skull. The trench coat guy I've seen before, he's part of my past. No name comes to me still.

Guess my past won't let go of me like I have let go of it.

I'm not running, I decide in a split second. Screw fleeing from them. They interrupted my hunt. They're in my way of my first kill. Maybe one of them will be my first.

"Let's be smart about this," says the man who's definitely no man. "Let this poor man go."

I laugh. "This poor man came after me."

"Before or after you instigated the fight?"

I frown, thinking about Franco who's having the time of his life in the bar still.

"This doesn't have to get bloody."

"You think so, trench coat?" I cock my head. "Because I think it does. You and your little girlfriend better run along now before you send me over the edge." I chuckle as the two pull out sharp, silver, pointed blades at their sides. "Oh, look, the Two Musketeers."

Both slink towards me, I send the woman flying backwards with a flick of my wrist. As she hits the ground, the man runs for me. I try to send him flying too, but I only manage to push him back a little. Damn. Franco never prepared me for attacks from...whatever they are.

"Stand down," he tells me. His voice is very attractive and gruff, I can't lie.

"You and her should have never come around here." I flare my nostrils. Reaching in my pockets, I pull out my retractable batons, letting them stretch out to their full lengths. (The things you find in your abandoned gym that secretly probably wasn't a gym at some point in time.) "I'll give you one last chance, the both of you, to back the hell off."

The man falters, something I've done has got him distracted. I take my chance and charge for him, knocking into him full force with my body. I cry out as my side is struck with a silver blade. Growling in my throat, I whack the woman across the face with a baton, sending her reeling away. With the man on the ground, I now focus on his counterpart. We exchange blows, my batons hitting against her blade. She gets in a few cuts which sting like hell while I get in crushing blows so hard I'm sure I break a bone or two in her face.

She disarms me, so I'm down to one baton. But she takes advantage, slicing at my stomach. The tip catches my clothing, not deep enough to sting my skin. I try to pull off a fancy maneuver, spinning so I can knock her head off, but she intercepts my move halfway through, and has her blade at my neck as I continue to beat on her vessel with the one baton I still carry.

"One more strike, and this goes into your chest," she says in my ear.

At this, I breathe through my nose and (reluctantly) drop my weapon. "What? Not gonna kill me?"

"I should."

"Hannah, don't," says the man. His blade is away. "Let her go."

"Castiel—"

"Trust me. Release her." He looks at the scene imploringly, a little impatiently too. "Hannah."

After a long debate of a minute, Hannah removes the threat from my neck and shoves me in the direction of Castiel. I see one of my weapons at my feet. I think about trying to jump down and grab it, but I don't know if I will live long enough to continue my attack. For all I know, Castiel wants to off me himself—that could be why he asked Hannah to let me go. So he would be credited with the kill and not her.

"Why the change of heart? Is this Good Cop, Bad Cop?" I ask, switching my looks between the two beings.

"What the fuck is going on here?!"

In my fight, I'd forgotten about Gray Eyes. Castiel walks past me and Hannah and does something to Gray Eyes, judging by the pleading he's doing.

"You took him away from me," I hiss as Castiel comes back into my view.

"I just knocked him unconscious and altered his memory. When he wakes, he won't remember any of this."

"Just what are you two, anyway? You're not like me."

"You're right, we're not," Hannah deadpans.

"We're angels," says Castiel.

I look at him suspiciously. "Angels," I repeat in an unconvinced tone.

"Where there are demons, there must be angels."

"Uh-huh, sure. Tell me something, how come I'm still breathing?"

"Where did you get those?" Castiel nods towards the baton at my feet. "Where did you learn to use these?"

"I had a little help from a friend." I scowl. It's not really a lie, I used Franco as a punching bag with these batons a day or two ago. "I also somehow have a bit of prior experience. Can't understand why. What's this about, angel?"

"I think I would like to know the reason too," Hannah pipes behind me.

"You...You remind me of someone. A friend," Castiel tells me slowly. "Your skill with the weapons almost made me believe..."

"What? That I'm this dead friend of yours?" I scoff.

"What makes you assume she's dead?"

"The look in your eye." I look between Castiel and Hannah. "So, now what? Are you arresting me for attempted murder? Am I going to prison in Heaven?"

"You're not going anywhere."

"She's not?" asks Hannah, voicing on my behalf as well even though she doesn't know that.

"No. She's coming with us."

"Castiel!" Hannah rushes past me and lugs her angel partner away, leaving me to pick up my baton and walk to grab the other one I lost in the battle with Hannah. I watch the angels as Hannah has a secret conversation with Castiel. It's most likely about me. Why wouldn't it be?

I act as though I'm minding my business, when really, thanks to my sharpened hearing, I'm eavesdropping.

"She can't be trusted!" Hannah whispers harshly. "She's not who you want to think that she is, Castiel. She's not Josette."

"Hannah, for as long as I've known that family, they have a habit of resurrecting. She wouldn't be an exception to the rule."

Is Castiel right? Is Avery not my name? Right now, I side with Hannah. I can't be this "Josette".

Hannah shakes her head. "It can't be her. She wasn't sent up to Heaven, so she must still be in Hell."

"Which would support what we see. She could have gotten out, Hannah. Her brothers have, it's not impossible for her to have done the same."

"Yes, but if memory served you correctly, Castiel, the Winchesters got out of Hell with help. I haven't heard anything about Josette Winchester being saved. You would have heard something too if she had been."

I feel like what they're discussing should mean something to me. Castiel is part of my past, somehow. Do I know these "Winchesters" they're talking about?

"Even if she is who you think she is, she's a demon now. She clearly doesn't have any memory as to who she really is. She can easily manipulate you and put a blade through your heart and mine when she gets the chance to! I know I said I would follow you, Castiel, but I'm sure I don't want to follow you on this."

"Whether you do or not, that's your choice, Hannah. I've made mine. I'm taking a chance on her."

"What if you're wrong?"

"Then I will figure that out should that be the outcome."

"Say you're right, and this is Josette Winchester. What will you do, then? Touch her, try not to smite her, and try to see if you can give her memories back to her? What if they aren't recoverable?"

"They will be."

I'm twirling a baton around at my side, focusing, when I hear Hannah and Castiel break up their heated debate on whether or not to take me along for the ride.

"I'm surprised you're still here," says Castiel.

"I am too," I tell him flatly.

"You're coming with us."

I look at him. "Like I have a say in this?"

"You don't."

I roll my eyes. "You can't just let me go?"

"No, actually, you might be useful."

I raise an eyebrow. "An angel thinks allying with a demon is useful? Wow, this world is really whacked out." I laugh darkly. "All right, I'll bite, since if I don't I'll be forcibly coerced into joining anyway."

"Follow us."

Reluctantly, I look back at the chaotic bar. Well, it's been nice while it lasted, Franco. Maybe we'll see each other again soon. Thanks for the few days of training. I tuck away my batons and follow Castiel and Hannah to a pale yellow car. "Angels have wings, right? How come you're using this?"

"It's complicated," says Castiel as he and Hannah climb in. I take the backseat. Castiel looks at me through the mirror.

"Mind telling me what I'm getting myself into exactly?" I ask as the car starts away from the bar.

"I'll give you the debrief when we get closer."

I lick my lips in slight annoyance. I'm surprised they're allowing me to ask questions. I guess I should feel indebted to Castiel, since he's the reason I'm still kicking right now. My mind runs back through the angels' conversation, about this "Josette Winchester" girl. What makes Castiel believe that I would be her? Is there the chance that he's right?

For now, I'll bank on the high chance that he's wrong.

**Oh, Cassie, if only you knew...

I'm sorry I'm putting my Cassette ship through rough waters right now. They've kind of been on the outs since Jo nearly ran him over with her truck all that time ago...

Honestly, I just pictured this song when Franco and Jo--sorry, Avery--started that fight. Sounds like a song that would play in utter chaos.**