"What?" Dean shot up from his chair, shoulders tensing as he chanced a glance at Jake.
"How's that possible?" Jake gaped at Sam. "If she's out of hell... Dad was taken out of Hell, I remember you telling me," he glanced at Dean. "But—Dad, is she—"
"We don't know that yet, Jake," Dean placed a hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing comfortingly before turning towards Sam. "How did you find out about this?"
"She called me... she says she wants to meet up with us at a warehouse just twenty minutes out from here," Sam's voice wavered.
"I wanna go," Jake said firmly.
"Fuck, no, you're not going," Dean scoffed.
"Dad, it's mom—"
"And we don't know what state she's in, Jake," Dean shook his head. "I am not risking you. For all we know, she's sporting black eyes and has a penchant for ganking everyone she sees."
"Are you implying she's a demon?" Jake couldn't believe what Dean had said.
"That's the only option I see for having her come out of hell, son," Dean muttered.
"She's my mom!" Jake bellowed.
"And you're my son!" Dean's head snapped to glare at Jake. "And I say that you stay here! We're going to bring her back here and once we know it's safe, you'll be able to see her."
"Fuck, what good was all that gun training and self-defense lessons if I don't get to use them, huh?" Jake's voice rose in tandem to his ire and frustration.
"It was for 'just in case' situations," Dean explained, beginning to follow Sam to the bunker's garage, grabbing his keys and jacket on the way there. Jake trailed, hot at his heels. "This ain't no 'just in case' situation."
"Nothing is for you!" Jake stomped his foot on the ground. "Just let me go!"
"No," Dean's voice was final, glaring at his son and daring him to challenge Dean. Jake defied Dean sometimes, but he knew his father's limits, and so he stomped out of the garage and slammed the door to his room. Dean blew his cheeks up and glanced at Sam, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
"Remember us at that age?" Sam shook his head, smiling despite the tension in the air.
"I remember you at that age," Dean snorted, climbing into the driver's seat.
"Guess my nephew is somewhat similar to me after all," Sam chuckled.
"You don't say," Dean muttered, pulling out of the garage and onto the gravel road.
Within twenty-five minutes, the Winchesters were stepping into a ramshackle warehouse, the soles of their boots disrupting the thick layer of dust that had settled over the years of the building's abandonment. They adopted a relaxed stance, trying to show you that they somewhat trusted you, but you weren't up to playing their games. You knew they were armed and so you emerged from the shadows, smirk in place and a laugh that sent chills running down their spines.
Dean's eyes widened at the sight of you. It was definitely your face, your eyes, your nose, the same features he remembered falling in love with. You looked the same you had the last time he'd seen you. But there was an obvious twist to you, a dangerous, dark look that made him want to recoil and run out of the warehouse.
"I look stunning, don't I, Dean-o?" you snickered, continuing to approach them until you were only a few feet away from them. "Twelve years have passed and I have not changed one bit," you stroke your hands against your torso slowly, sneering at Dean. "Well, except for these," you flashed them black eyes before blinking and having them return to your original color. "But, I consider these an improvement."
"Y/N?" Sam's voice stuttered as he tried to process the fact that you were standing before them.
"Come on, boys," you scoffed. "Pick up your jaws from the floor and let's hug it out."
"You wish," Dean gritted his teeth at you.
"Oh, you got some vim left in you after all," you raised a brow at him before crossing your arms over your chest. "Let me ask you, where's the brat I dropped off at your doorstep? Did you manage to not get him killed, Dean?" you taunted. "After all, you do have that knack of having everyone around you die."
"Y/N, I know that this is not you," Sam stepped forward, hands held out in surrender. "We can help you."
"You haven't changed, I see," you snorted, rolling your eyes and stepping back, putting some distance between you and the Winchesters. "Always a little bitch, Sammy, trying to help others when you can't even help yourself."
Dean lunged at you, but you expertly avoided his grip, twirling on the heel of your foot to land a kick on his back. He turned around just in time to grip your leg and toss you to the ground. You grunted as your back hit the floor and roared in defiance as both men straddled your arms before you could think of flinging them to the walls with a flick of your wrist.
"How did you get out?" Dean gritted his teeth as Sam struggled to grab the handcuffs he had stuffed into his back pockets. On the metal were engraved symbols that would keep you from escaping and they were basically the Winchester's only hope in being able to subdue you and take you back to the bunker.
"Well, wouldn't you like to know?" you scoffed.
"Tell me!" he demanded, slamming your arm down on the concrete floor. You laughed manically before the sound turned into a growl as the men brought your wrists together and locked the chains on you. You threw your fists at them, but they had more than a hundred pounds on you and you were still a young demon, you didn't possess the strength that some of the others had.
"Come on," Dean grunted as he pulled you up to stand with him. "We're going home."
"Let me go," you clenched your jaw, refusing to be dragged by them.
"I swear, if you don't move, I will drag you out of this place," Dean promised with a scoff. You responded with an expletive and Dean rolled his eyes, taking a hold of your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You fought to get down, slamming your hands on his lower back, but to no avail. The panic began to really seep in when you saw Sam open the trunk of the Impala and you recognized the Devil's Trap drawn on the roof. You struggled against Dean's hold, but the handcuffs around your wrists had a firm hold of you and you glare at the brothers as your back hit the floor of the trunk.
You screamed your lungs out, kicking and flailing your limbs against the resounding metal, but you could hear Dean raising the volume of his music, which only served to make you angrier. However, your torment didn't last long, twenty minutes later you were being hauled out of the car. You sneered at Sam as he pulled you to stand up.
"Over so soon?"
"We're home, Y/N," he smiled down at you. "You're going to be alright."
"I'll be alright once you buffoons let me go," you grunted, trying to escape from his grip. His hold tightened on your upper arm and you had no choice but to let yourself be dragged towards whatever place he was taking you to.
"Dad?"
"Jake, go to your room," Dean spoke from behind you.
"Dad, do you have her?" your head shot up and your eyes landed on the form of a tall, lean teenager. Your eyes met and the boy inhaled sharply. "M-Mom?"
It clicked in your mind and you chuckled. "So, you're the little brat I got rid of way back when?"
"Your mother's a demon," Dean quickly explained. "Go back to your room, Jake."
"No, I want to help!" the boy stomped his foot on the ground stubbornly.
"No, you will stay in your room and let me and your uncle take care of this!" Dean's voice rose.
"I wanna help!"
"Dean, I'll take her to the dungeons," Sam turned towards his brother. "You can talk to Jake."
"Alright," Dean nodded his head before striding towards Jake, who was already beginning to walk over to you, his chest heaving and tears welling up in his eyes.
"Lookin' good, kid," you winked at Jake as Dean began to pull him away. "Bet you're as pathetic as your good-for-nothing dad. Am I right, Dean?"
"Come on, son," Dean grasped Jake's elbow and dragged him away. You clicked your tongue, lips parting to offer another comment when Sam tugged at you, pulling you with him towards another room.
"Easy, Sam, thought you were a gentleman," you grunted as he flung you into a dark room.
"We're going to cure you," Sam said in a soft voice as he made you sit down on a chair, unlocking the metal handcuffs and replacing them with ropes. You smiled at the thought of overpowering him and getting a chance to escape, but when you tried to move, an invisible wall stopped you.
"What the—"
"There's no use trying to move," Sam shook his head, tightening the ropes before moving away from you. "There's a devil's trap on the ground. You can't move from here."
"Let me go," you bared your teeth menacingly at him.
"It'll be over soon," Sam muttered before turning on his heels, turning off the light and closing the door behind himself. You screeched in anger.

"I don't understand why I can't help?" Jake shook his head in disbelief.
"Because she will hurt you," Dean sighed, tiredly rubbing at his temples. "Because it's best that you don't have any contact with her until we cure her."
"But she's my mom, dad," Jake's eyes began to tear up. "And-and I feel like I owe her at least that."
"I-I can't," Dean shook his head, fingers curling into the palms of his hands.
"Dad—"
"Hey," Sam stood by the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "She's in the dungeons, we only need to get purified blood and we can start to cure her."
"I want you to use my blood," Jake said firmly.
"Jake, no," Sam began.
"No, uncle Sam, dad," he gave a look to each of the men. "I have to do this. This is my mom. Just tell me what to do."
"Fuck, you're as stubborn as her, no?" Dean scoffed.
"Please, dad," Jake begged. "Please let me do this."
"Fine, we're going to have to take you to confession," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose before getting on his feet and making his way towards Jake. "But you will let your uncle and me do the curing, you will not interfere."
"Y-yeah, okay," Jake nodded gravely. "I won't."
"Alright, let's go," Dean patted Jake's shoulder and the three men left the bunker.

A few hours later, you glared at the opening door of the dungeon with onyx eyes, lips parting to reveal a menacing sneer. It was Sam and Dean, their arms laden with vials of red liquid.
"Well, aren't you two such gentlemen," you snorted. "Finally deemed me worthy enough to visit."
"We're going to cure you," Sam informed you.
"Cure? There's nothing to cure," you snorted through your nostrils. "I'm as good as I ever have been!"
"It'll only take a few hours, but by the end of the day, you'll be alright," Sam spoke as Dean brought forward a metal table, setting down everything he had been carrying. You glared at them and struggled against your binds.
"Let me go," you growled.
"Sorry, Y/N," Dean shook his head. "No can do."
"I swear that I will tear you both limb from limb if you don't let me go," you snapped your teeth as Sam approached with a syringe in hand. Despite your struggles, Sam slammed the needle down on your arm and all you could feel was searing pain pulsing into your veins. Your head pulled back and you howled in pain.
"It's okay, Y/N, only seven more to go," Sam smiled.
"Would you stop it with the pussy shit?" you groaned. "Goddammit, it's tiring and those puppy dog eyes... Dude, find a new look."
"Sam, you should take a break," Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and smile reassuringly. "I'll take care of this."
"You sure—"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Dean shot him a tight smile before promptly kicking Sam out of the dungeon. The door slammed and Dean turned to glare at you.
"Well, well, well, it looks like it only us now," you winked flirtatiously.
"Shut up, Y/N," Dean shook his head.
"You know, you look old for your age," you clicked your tongue. "What are you now? 45? 46? Damn, Dean, you've actually managed to stay alive that long? I'm impressed."
You kept your eyes trained on Dean as he strode back and forth across the room. On your lips was etched a smirk as you continued to talk. "Tell me, how did you keep that pathetic boy alive?"
"I said, shut up!"
"Oh, ho, that got your panties up in a twist, I see," you laughed, pulling your head back in delight. "He means something to you? I bet it was quite a nasty surprise to find out about him. Is he the only son you have? Knowing how fucking promiscuous you are and how you don't possess the ability to keep it in your pants, you must have a few bastards here and there."
"Y/N, I swear—" Dean leapt at you and held a knife to your throat.
"This is a touchy subject, isn't it?" you asked, delighted.
"D-Dad?" a shaking voice made Dean and you start. Your eyes flitted to the opened doorway where Jake now stood.
"Oh, look who decided to join in on the party!" you squealed. "Hi, Jake! I don't think you remember me, but I'm the one woman who was supposed to take care of you, but..." you clicked your tongue, shaking your head. "I didn't want to, so I just left you at your dad's doorstep and went ahead and got a life."
"I know that's not you really talking," Jake's jaw clenched and you giggled eagerly.
"This is not really me?" you gasped. "Of course this is the real me! This is as real as I get, dear. I loathed you. I hated that you were born and that I had to take care of a brat that couldn't even wipe himself. You took my liberty away."
"Be quiet!" Dean dug the tip of the blade to your jaw, almost piercing through the skin.
"T-That's not true," Jake shook his head vehemently. "I read your letter. You love me! You didn't want to leave me. And my dad—"
"Your dad?" you scoffed. "Your dad's a fucking liar. For all we know, he probably wrote that letter himself. What else has he lied to you about? That he loved you? Ha! Dean Winchester," you shot Dean a pointed glare. "Why must you lie to our little brat like that? You're not capable of loving anyone but yourself. You're a selfish prick after all."
"You're not yourself," Jake gritted his teeth. "This isn't you. You loved me!"
"Oh, God, please don't," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "I really didn't, boy."

Time dragged on as Dean continued to administer the blood doses every hour. You screeched in pain, thrashing in your chair, with every plunge of the needle, but it didn't deter Dean from continuing the task at hand.
At one point, Jake walked out of the dungeons, being too overwhelmed by your taunting and you felt something tug at your chest. You shook it off and went back to sneering at Dean, intimidating him with unimaginable things if he didn't let you go. He pressed on and continued the job, learning to pay no heed to your words even though they threatened to tear through his control.
When it was time for the last dose, Dean momentarily stepped out of the room and returned after five minutes with Jake and Sam. You glanced up them, vision blurring. The blood was dizzying you and you felt yourself losing command of your consciousness.
"Alright, kid," Dean sighed and placed a syringe into Jake's palm. "This is the last dose. You remember what you're supposed to say?"
"Y-yeah," Jake muttered in a shaky voice. His chest puffed out and his green eyes landed on your frail form. He felt his heart thunder in his chest as he approached you and he couldn't help but to smile. You were so close to being back to normal.
"H-Hey, mom," he knelt right in front of you. "We're almost done."
"Leave me alone," you spat at him. You glared viciously at him as he got on his feet and closed his eyes.
"Jake?" Sam questioned behind him.
"It's okay, I can do this," Jake said. "I can do this," he let out a breath he had been holding and directed the sharp needle to your skin. You wailed in pain as the blood entered your veins and suddenly all you could hear was Jake's voice as he began to recite the incantation.
Your head lulled from side to side as Jake continued to speak. You thrashed briefly before going completely still and the last words he spoke hung in the air. Dean and Sam both stiffened their shoulders simultaneously as Jake knelt in front of you, his hands rising to cup your face.
"M-Mom," he whimpered. "Mom, please be alive, please tell me you're okay."
Your eyelids fluttered and Jake saw as the black dissipated. You inhaled sharply at the sight of him before losing consciousness.