[1.01. living in a mad world]

2001

     THE HOUSE THAT BOBBY SINGER CALLED HOME WAS SOMETHING ANGELA IMAGINED SOME DERANGED HERMIT TO LIVE IN. Nearly every corner of the house that she could see was filled with what she would call clutter. In what she thought was supposed to be a living room were piles of books, not neat stacks that an avid reader might have in the corner of their room. Then in the next large room that she could see had a portion of a dining table cleared for a computer and the modem sat just under the table, cords weaved around a few old looking books to a power cord extension that a mini fridge that was in the corner behind the chair he had set aside for his messy workspace. Then just in front of the entryway was a narrow staircase that had shoe boxes lining them. To her left she nearly missed the kitchen which had a small table beside the window where there was a line of cellphones, each sitting on top of a yellow notepad.

"Ignore this." Bobby said as he shut the door behind her, "just don't have the space for all of it." he added as he watched Angela scan the living room one more time.

"Oh," she paused for a split second, "It's fine. You should see my apartment. At least you can see your floor." she said, lying as she motioned to the floor.

"Mhm," he began, "you can take a seat in here," he said, turning and leading Angela into the kitchen and to the small table. As she followed him, she watched as he quickly began to pick up each of the cellphones and flipped the notepads over.

"Okay," she replied simply as she pulled out the chair and lowered herself into the seat. Setting her purse between her feet and her phone in front of her on the table.

"Do you want a beer?"

Angela shook her head, "No thanks. I don't really drink."

"Oh, well, water?" he questioned as he already began pulling a plastic water bottle from a fridge filled with takeout containers, bottled water, and beer.

"Sure..." she replied as he held it out towards her. After she accepted it, he grabbed himself a beer before making his way over to the table.

"Here ya'go," he said handing it to her, "I'll be right back. Just gotta grab somethin'."

         Bobby left Angela alone at the small table, and disappeared around the corner to the stairs. In the moments he was gone, her eyes landed on the row of cell phones across from her. Her curiosity led her fingers across the table and to the corner of one of the notepads.

        Slowly she lifted it by the corner in an attempt to maybe see what it said on the other side. But a loud thud coming from the stairs made her quickly drop the corner and her hand shot back to the cap on the water he had given her.

"Shit."

"Everything okay?" she questioned, not even glancing over her shoulder to see if he was behind her. Instead she unscrewed the cap to take a drink.

"Oh, yeah, just have a mess of crap to clean up..." Bobby replied, the sound of stuff being dropped back into a box.

"Another mess, you mean..." she whispered to herself as she finally glanced over her shoulder. Just in time to see Bobby round the corner with a shoebox under his arm.

"Good to see you aren't one of them black-eyed idgits." he said as he passed her and set the box down on the table and sat down across from her as Angela's eyebrows burrowed downward as she watched him. "That water would have made any one of them smoke outta here."

"Sorry?"

Bobby sighed heavily as he sat down and picked up his beer, "Do you want all this the nice way or do you just want to get it out of the way?"

"Uh, the second way."

"Well, you remember what you saw that night? When your pops died?"

           Angela felt her face freeze in a somewhat shocked expression. This was the so-called specialist that Dr. Thornberg had spoken so highly of? This was a mess. Nothing about Bobby Singer, the salvage yard, or his house said professional. If anything is said lunatic.

"I'll take that as a yes." Bobby muttered, "Well, if you really saw his eyes go black, I'd put my money on that he was possessed—"

"—possessed?"

"By a demon. You've seen movies about that sort of thing, right?"

"Yeah but those are fake."

"But demons aren't."

Bobby gave her a look as if to tell her that she was wrong, almost a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Hate to break it to ya' kid," he began as he began to rummage through the shoebox before he pulled out a small book. "but they're about as real as you and me." he said, setting the book down on the table in front of her. "This won't do much good about your dad," he paused, offering her an apologetic look. "but with this, if you ever run across the black-eyed asshole that did that to him...you'll be able to send him right back to hell."

2002

       If Angela had known what that first meeting with Bobby Singer would have done, she would have passed on it and just kept going to therapy. At least she liked to think she would have, but in all honesty she was glad she at least knew that she wasn't the crazy one. The world they lived in was what was crazy, and people like her and Bobby Singer were actually the sane ones. The ones who saw the world for everything it was— it was filled with things that nobody really believed in. Not just in the dark corners of it either, in places like high rise law offices, or banks, or even schools. Demons were just the beginning of it, there were ghosts, vampires, werewolves— everything that was in children's books seemed to be real. But instead of taking the small book of latin that Bobby gave her during that first meeting and taking in the information and accepting it and moving on with her life finally— she ended up taking it a step further.

         Which led her here, to Madison, Wisconsin with Derek Turner. Hot on the trail of Ereya, the target for Derek Turner longer than Angela had been living the life of a hunter. A demon that had been responsible for not only the death of his father and his mother— but also responsible for leading both Derek and his uncle Rufus to become hunters in the first place.

"Angie."

Angela quickly looked up from the colorful paper that she was taking off of her taco. "Hm?"

"Davis? Do you think Ereya is still with her?" Derek questioned as he took another sip from his orange fanta while he motioned to their makeshift tac-board on the back of the motel room door.

"Kate Jones seemed to think so." Angela replied, a bit of irritation coming out in her voice.

Derek rolled her eyes, "She's never lied about a case."

"Just takes all the credit." Angela reminded him, "You were the one to take out that vampire in Florida. Not her, as much as she would like to have everyone believe."

Derek chuckled, "Credit is what made you hate her?"

"Well, if it wasn't for us, we'd probably be hunting her."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Anyway, Davis."

"We could check, Jones said she saw her working at..."

"Cartmens."

"That's the bar we passed coming here, isn't it?" Angela questioned as she took a bite of her food. "The one that you said looked janky?"

"Mhm." he hummed as he took another drink before picking up his food. "We should go there tonight, see if she's there."

"So Ereya can smoke out when she sees you again?" Angela questioned, "That's how we lost her in Nebraska."

       Derek rolled his eyes. He had been after Ereya for a while, and had only begun to finally be closing in on her more recently. Revenge was at his fingertips, and he was acting first and not thinking first more than usual. Usually, Angela was the one to act first and think later, Derek was the voice of reason ever since he agreed when Bobby asked if he could show Angela the ropes of hunting. When Angela wanted to jump right in and start, not even thinking of those around who could be in danger, Derek was the one to remind her. But when it came to Ereya, he was the one wanting to get right down to it.

"As if you wouldn't be doing the same if it was the demon that killed your dad." Derek pointed out, his tone coming off as a bit more harsh than he might have intended.  "Do you have a better idea?"

Angela raised an eyebrow sharply, "Wow, asking me for an idea for once?" she questioned, smirking a bit.

"It's a courtesy, that's all." Derek replied without skipping a beat.

         Angela glared at him again before rolling her eyes, earning a rare laugh from Derek. Ever since they had begun to close in on Ereya, his demeanor hadn't been the same. It had once been light hearted— he could always think of a joke to say at the flip of the switch. He wasn't all business all the time, but for weeks a laugh or even a smile had become a rare occurrence.

"How sexist of you." Angela replied simply with a smirk growing on her face.

Causing his smile to fall immediately, "I'm joking, Angie." he sighed heavily, "Seriously, what's your plan?"

"I go by myself." she suggested simply, "She saw you in Nebraska, when you went into that hotel room all hot and heavy with the holy water. I could go in on my own and at least find out if she's still there." she explained, "If you trust me that is."

Derek narrowed his eyes, "And if Ereya is still here?"

"A devils trap should do the trick."

Derek chuckled a bit, "I've been hunting her for years, you don't think I've tried that?"

"She's expecting you to try that." she stated, "Not some random women at the bar."

           Cartmens was the exact type of bar that you would expect to find a few blocks from a rundown motel. It was a roadside bar that got most of their business from truck drivers, bikers passing through, and old townies that hadn't ever lived outside of the Midwest. It was dark, smelled of grease and beer— and a good reminder of why Angela didn't drink. Everyone there didn't seem all that exciting, and they all seemed like the sort that would be broke by the time they left. With the exception of a few college students who just seemed to be enjoying a night out playing pool or laughing with one another at the tables while the regulars sat at the bar and the smaller tables.

Lovely. Angela felt grimy just walking into the building, and with every step she took towards the bar, she felt even more gross.

         Angela took a seat at the bar at an open seat beside an older man, probably about Bobby's age who was hyper-focused on a football game that was being played on the television near the bar. And on the other side was a woman who looked like she had been on the road all day and who was enjoying a greasy burger that she was probably telling herself was a home cooked meal.

"I'll be right with you," the girl at the opposite end of the bar called to her as Angela leaned against the bar.

"Take your time," Angela replied, nonchalantly as her eyes scanned the people around her. But the girl behind the bar didn't pay much mind to Angela's response. Instead she set down a new beer bottle in front of the man she had been helping without paying him much mind before she made her way down to where she had seated herself.

"What can I get you?" she questioned, leaning against the bar for a moment of rest.

"Can I just get a...well what's most popular on tap here?"

"Tonight?" the girl replied, as she glanced around the bar Angela took her chance to try and get a good look at the girl's silver name tag— only seeing the name Emily printed on it.

Emily Davis hopefully.

"Miller High Life is doing pretty good, right now at least."

"Perfect, I'll take that." Angela offered her a small smile before she turned to go get Angela's order that she had no intention of even touching. "Could you watch my drink when she brings it? I just have to run to the restroom." Angela said as soon as Emily was down by the line of tap beers.

She inched a little closer to the women sitting beside her who gave her a small nod as she covered her mouth with her hand, "Yeah, sure."

Angela smiled, "Thanks."

           With that, Angela hopped off of her seat and scanned the bar for a sign that said restroom. Once she found it, she swiftly made her way across the bar, and into the bathroom. It was small, a two stall restroom. Which was better than Angela had anticipated. She had guessed it would be a single bathroom that she would have to rush in, instead she quickly claimed the largest stall and locked the door before she hung her purse on the door.

          She pulled open her purse and first pulled out the small bottle of holy water and shoved it in her sweater pocket before then digging around for the sharpie marker. Wincing a bit at the thought of having to touch the floor of the bathroom with more than just her feet, but then quickly getting to work drawing on the tile floor a devils trap that took up at least half of the floor space in the stall. However the tiles made it more difficult than she had anticipated, each groove between the tiles had to be gone over a couple times to make sure there wasn't a single crack in the trap.

         Then once she was satisfied with her work, she stood and snapped a picture of it and sent it to Derek for his stamp of approval. Once she got it, she was prepared for the next phase of her plan— Ereya seemed to be trying to keep things quiet while she was using Emily Davis as a meat suit. If she still was...

However as soon as she opened the bathroom door, she knew that the plan wasn't going to go as planned.

       Outside the door was Emily Davis, leaning against the wall across the hall. Her arms were crossed firmly over her chest. Her eyes darted past Angela and into the bathroom where she must have caught sight of what was on the floor. Chances were that even if Ereya wasn't there, Emily would still be upset about it. But with one blink and one small movement of her hand, sending Angela flying backwards into the bathroom.

"How stupid do you think I am?" Ereya questioned, the restroom door shutting behind her.

"I was hoping very." Angela groaned as she began to try and get up. However she found herself sliding across the floor and across the devils trap, and up the back wall of the bathroom.

The demon sighed heavily, it's eyes were pitch black. Just like the ones that Angela saw in her nightmares for years after her father died. "Derek must be desperate to be sending in his little sidekick on her own." she began, "How's he doing anyway? I hear his uncle gave up hunting me down. Not that he ever came very close..."

"You weren't very hard to find this time," Angela replied, "real easy actually. Quite a few lightning storms...hard to pass up." Angela lied, if it hadn't been for Kate they never would have found Ereya here.

"Well, I'll have to try harder with the next one." she smiled up at Angela before she allowed Angela to fall to the floor just as Ereya began to smoke out of Emily Davis and into the vents of the bathroom.

         Angela slumped against the bathroom, watching helplessly as Ereya vanished again. Leaving Angela in a moment wondering just how Derek was going to take the news that his hunt for Ereya wasn't ending tonight.

authors note;
ahh! here's chapter one of Angela's story! I know it's not involving the shows plotlines yet, but I wanted to get a feel for angie and derek and their own demons— literally. the next chapter will be starting right away with the shows' plotline in the season finale of season one!

please remember to let me know what you think!
stay classy!