Demon Deals

Chapter Three - Love Me Some Pie

"Dammit, Elle, sit down! You were shot, for God's sake!"

"It damn sure wasn't for God's sake. And don't call me Elle."

"Sit down!!" Bobby demanded.

I ignored him and continued to clean the kitchen. I love Bobby, I really do, but he is absolutely horrid when it comes to housekeeping. Although, I don't exactly blame him because it probably reminds him of his late wife.

"Don't make me call the boys in here." Bobby threatened.

I shrugged. "I'm not stopping you."

"Sam! Dean! Come get your hard-headed idjit!"

I could hear Sam and Dean quickly making their way to the kitchen, so I distracted myself with washing the kitchen window.

"Miss-Miss, what are you doing?!" Sam gasped.

I twisted around in my position on my knees atop the counter.

"I'm cleaning. Something the three of you have obviously never heard of, you filthy beasts." I teased.

"Missy, you should be resting." Dean said seriously. I rolled my eyes at my reflection in the window.

"You can't boss me around, Dean, I'm the same age as you. And you, Sammy, are nearly four years younger, so shut your bloody traps, please." I huffed, continuing my work.

"Technically, you're only eighteen." Bobby chipped in, and I sent a glare his way.

"Technically, I am.....one thousand and ninety-eight. If you go by hell-time." I snapped.

"Sucks for you, Missy, but we go by Earth-time here." Dean grinned.

"Then I'm just over a year younger than you. That's how long I was in hell before I became a demon." I huffed, finishing the window and moving to clean the counter tops.

The boys sat next to Bobby after uselessly trying to dissuade me from cleaning.

•••

"You know what's been bugging me?" Sam broke the silence.

We'd been sitting at the table, all four us, in an awkward silence.

I hummed for Sam to continue.

"Why did you go to Hell?" He asked bluntly.

My muscles tensed, and my eyes flickered. Dean and Bobby suddenly perked up, very interested in the conversation.

"What do you mean, Sammy?" I asked, acting clueless.

"Cut the shit, Michelle." I faintly registered the use of my full name, signalling that this was serious. "I'm serious. Why did you go to hell? Dean and I have known you since grade school. You were always the good kid. You never did anything to deserve going to hell. Unless you aren't telling us something..." He trailed off.

I sighed heavily dropping my head to rest on the tabletop, covering myself with my arms.

"Look, I know I didn't deserve it, okay? I mean, I did, but it wasn't for anything bad. But even so, there's nothing that can be done now, so drop it, okay?" I grumbled, not lifting my head.

There was silence. No one moved, or so I thought. Having my head down, I couldn't see, and that's why I was so alarmed when I was suddenly tossed over someone's shoulder.

Before I could fully understand what was happening, I had been tossed into a chair, inside yet another Devil's Trap.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I screeched, immediately standing up and racing to the edge of the trap. My hand rested on the invisible barrier and my eyes turned demonic. "If you do not immediately explain what the fuck you think you're doing, I will make it so you'll never be able to eat another pie again!" I hissed at Dean, slamming my fist against the barrier, making him jump.

It was a bit of an understatement to say I didn't like Devil's Traps. I hated them with a passion, especially when I was betrayed with one, like now.

"Uhm, Sammy, maybe we should let her out and go about this a different way. Cause she looks pretty serious about the pie thing." Dean muttered.

Sam just grunted, facial expression not moving from his cold stare.

"We're not letting her out until she tells us what she's hiding." He said, half to me, half to his brother.

"For fuck's sake, Samuel, it's just something to do with how I was murdered! I don't like talking about it." I protested. Dean left the room, not wanting to see his brother and oldest friend fighting.

"See, you keep saying you were murdered. You were killed when a leak in a gas main caused an explosion." Sam commented.

"Yeah, and that's what they said caused the fires involving your mother and Jessica! Don't you see a bit of a pattern here?!" I screamed.

Sam's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped slightly.

"You mean...you were killed by - "

"A demon, yes. An ass-hat with yellow eyes." I cut him off.

Sam moved to release me from the Devil's Trap, but stopped suddenly.

"Hey, why'd you stop? I told you, now let me out." I said, not wanting to stay in the Trap any longer than necessary.

"No, you didn't. You clarified that you were murdered and not killed in an accident. You still haven't told me why you went to hell."

I groaned internally, wishing Sam wasn't quite so smart.

"You aren't leaving until you tell me, Michelle."

"Sam, let me out." I ordered, deathly calm. He just shook his head. I narrowed my galaxy-patterned eyes. "Samuel Winchester. Let. Me. OUT!"

The chair that had been in middle of the Devil's Trap flew across the room, smashing into the far wall. I hated displaying my demonic abilities in front of the Winchesters, but extreme rage caused my control to waver a bit.

"I will once you tell me. What happened that sent you to hell?" He persisted. He stood right on the edge of the trap, so I lunged forward and pulled him all the way in with me.

"Michelle, what the hell?!" He roared, struggling in my grip.

"Calm down," I sighed, my voice resigned. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, even if my life depended on it. And that's actually my secret. Why I went to hell."

Sam stopped struggling, but was still on guard.

"Explain."

"I can't." Upon those words, Sam jerked out of my grip, moving to exit my small, circular prison. "But I'm willing to show you."

"What?"

"I won't tell you. I can't make myself. But I'll show you, if you promise to stay calm." I offered quietly.

"I promise."

With that, I pulled his forehead down to meet mine and closed my eyes.

•••In the Kitchen•••

Dean Winchester busied himself with getting a piece of pie from the fridge. A large, fresh slice of cherry pie, still slightly warm. Missy had made it for him earlier that day.

God, he missed her cooking.

Sitting down at the table, humming in anticipation, Dean loaded his fork with what he regarded as heaven.

"Mmm, love me some pie," He mumbled, and took a bite.

It took him a moment to realise there had been nothing on his fork.

Thoroughly confused, he tried again. Just like the first time, the pie mysteriously disappeared before he could get it in his mouth. Then he remembered.

"I will make it so you'll never be able to eat another pie again!"

"MICHELLE!!"