February, 1986, Winslow Arizona.

Maggie stirred in the double bed of the hotel room and reached for the other side, not exactly surprised to find it empty and cold. He never stayed. It was a one sided relationship. She knew that. She loved him, and he was still mourning Saint Mary.

She sighed and got out of bed, and headed to the shower. He would be back soon, with new information or at least breakfast, and she wanted to be ready to leave either way. She had a bad feeling about this hunt. The Fallen was toying with them. Playing games with Johns head and that was never good. He had such tenuous hold on his emotions right now as it was. One push in the wrong direction and he would explode in rage and grieve, vengeance made in mans image.

The visions never came easily. They tore through her head, overwhelming her senses until she couldn't see or hear anything but what was being forced into her mind. It was no different this time. She rested her head against the cool tile of the shower stall, moaning softly.

He was in danger. No… he was always in danger, this was serious trouble. She pushed herself up right, and swallowed two aspiring. She shouldn't take it. Her stomach was already upset. It would just make it worse, but she had to at least be able to see straight if she was going to get to John in time.

She packed her weapons into her bikes side saddles and strode out into the bright sunlight, wincing as it reached her eyes, but she didn't hesitate, there was no time for pain, no time to deal with human frailty. She started the bike and at first she thought the vibrations would cause her to lose the breakfast she hadn't eaten.

She was on the free way minutes later. She thought she had recognized the location, and prayed that she was right, going through everything she had seen in her mind, trying to put into place a plan of attack. It was just the two of them out there. There was no hope of back up and she couldn't afford to get this wrong.

She hid the motor cycle then quietly made her way toward the mine entrance. Why did the bad guys always pick mine shafts and abandoned warehouses? She contemplated the cliché as she moved, mostly to keep from thinking of the image of John's bloody form hanging helpless before the yellow eyed Demon.

She avoided direct contact with the enemy, never was a way to tell from a distance if they were possessed or some sort of cultist or flunky. She didn't have a portable sigil (gods wouldn't that make life easier, a few simple words and poof there you go, embossed on your ceiling or floor, ready to use binding circle) and no weapon made by man could actually kill a demon, no matter what John thought about that damned mythical colt revolver. So she avoided them, instead letting her mind drift along the inane path of how to create a quick binding.

Maggie, or Magdalena to those who knew her VERY well (Meaning her parents and John) was of mixed parentage. Hunters, her mother British and her father Chinese. Not as rare as one might imagine if you understood that she was born in Hong Kong. With that up bringing came her peculiar style of doing things. Chinese mysticism mixed with a British practicality. She could manage a few minor spells picked up along the way, things most people only saw in old martial arts films, some healing, a bit of distraction, moving things with her mind. That is, when it wasn't over whelmed with blinding visions. Then she was lucky to focus enough to maintain her own breathing.

She could some how sense that John was near. She had been able to sense him for about 2 months. About how long that ulcer of hers had been acting up too, she thought there wasn't a coincidence there. John could be enough to give a saint ulcers and a nervous twitch if you didn't know how to handle him.

Trouble was, no one knew how to handle him for long periods of time.

She cautiously followed that … feeling… of John, still letting her mind drift. Too often these fallen could pick up on surface thoughts, and use that to know what you were going to do. She had to work hard to keep her thoughts drifting this time though. She was worried. If she didn't get there in time there wouldn't be a John to argue with all the way back to the hotel about stupid things, like why she had come after him instead of going to get his boys (whom she had yet to meet.) Or why she had come in armed with knives and parchment instead of holy water and salt.

She found her prey, much as the vision had shown, bound by his wrists, the wounds looked mostly superficial. Torture, she thought, well placed superficial wounds. She moved silently. John appeared to be alone but only a fool would have actually left him so, unless he was further gone than she thought from the blood loss.

She came up from behind, laying her hands on his bare back. He tensed but didn't move, didn't say a word, and she sighed silently in relief. He was still aware, still conscious. Together they had a chance of getting out of here. She made a symbol on the palm of her hand and pressed it against the center of his back, speaking the incantation in Chinese in a whisper soft voice. The energy spread from her hand through his body, healing the superficial wounds, she feared there were deeper injuries that her limited powers couldn't heal but there would be time enough for that later.

"Get away, Maggie" he said in a low dark tone, one that didn't register to her as anything other than his usual bravado then.

"shut up, John" she said softly and rose up on her toes to begin untying his hands. She wasn't a tall woman and it took time for her undo the tight knots, especially as he seemed determined to move around. Not touching her if at all possible.

She got one hand free and he pushed her back as he reached up to do the other himself. She looked up at him in confusion "John?"

John turned to face her, looking at her as though she were something to scrape off of his boots. "I said get away from me." There was that darkness again, something else too, in his eyes.

"We don't have time for this. Lets go, you can yell at me for what ever it is later" she pushed the emotions to the background to be dealt with later. Something in the way that he looked at her hurt.

She looked around at the sound of clapping, and a man stepping out of the shadows. His eyes gleaming with hellfire. "What can I say, Johnny boy, you have a sense of the irony. You have your Mary and then your Magdalena. Saint and Whore.

"nice" Maggie said, "but completely unoriginal. " she told the Demon moving between John and it. She didn't know how badly John was still hurt yet. She also didn't know that ulcer she joked about picking up from John wasn't an ulcer, but she had definitely picked it up from John. Other wise she might have been a good deal more careful of her own well being.

John backed away, not particularly worried about Maggie right then. Something she would have thought unnatural for him if she weren't focused on the Fallen before her.

"Oh I suppose it was a cheap shot but I couldn't resist. John is so easy to tease but you know that don't you. It's alright. Lets just put this matter of John Winchester to bed, and get down to family business. "

She frowned, brow furrowing. "What?" she asked in confusion, thrown off by those words. Family business, what did he mean family business. "Mind games nothing but mind games" she said as she drew out one small throwing dagger and cut a shallow symbol in the palm of her hand as she had many times before, often enough that it barely registered as pain to her now.

"he knows the truth about you, Maggie, knows who your father really is. Do you?"

"Truth? From a demon?" She asked as she raised her hand and said the words in Chinese to help focus her TK, the force of the invisible blow sent the possessed man flying backwards and skidding across the cavern floor.

She turned to run, not caring in that moment about the look on Johns face, or the implication made by the yellow eyed demon. She grabbed his arm and she started to run. "damn it, John, stop fighting me, or do you want to go back to being target practice." She said, and the words seemed to sink in as John stopped pulling against her and ran beside her .

"We have to trap it here some how." John said, knowing it wouldn't kill the demon, but it would slow it down.

Maggie looked around they didn't have time to wire explosives. "where's the car?" she asked figuring he had driven himself out here following that damned lead he should have told her about first.

He pointed it out behind the utility shed.

"Cut the power and salt the mine. That will slow it down long enough for us to collapse the shaft entrance."

An hour later they were parking their respective vehicles out side the shared hotel room. John entered, not speaking a word to her as he went. His jaw ticked as he walked. Once inside he opened up a bag and took out the aspirin bottle and washed a handful down with a swig of scotch.

"I'm going to go get a shower." He said looking up at her his expression haunted, pained "I want you gone when I get out. I'll give you a weeks head start. I owe you that much." He said as he started toward the bathroom.

"what the hell?" she yelled at him "What did that bastard say to you?" this was insane, a weeks head start? What was he going to hunt her now?

"Your father was possessed when you were conceived. You're part demon, Maggie. Its only a matter of time before you cross over to the other side. I wont have you near me or my boys when that happens."

"John, this is insanity." She couldn't believe this was happening. How could this be happening? How could he… "John?!"

"A week Maggie. Don't waste it yelling my name" He stepped into the bathroom and

closed the door, locking it behind him.

August 12, 1993

Magdalena screamed out her sons name as the explosion rocked the house. She ran deeper within, dodging falling debris, desperate to reach her son in time, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to. It was her worst night mare come to life before her eyes. Her son was going to die at the hands of men she had once called friend.

The house shook to its core and the floor gave way sending everything crashing into the basement. Her screams mingled with those of the small boy and she was certain that she was going to die when she hit the cement floor, losing consciousness briefly as the air was forced out of her lungs upon impact.

She came to as the crying in the distance was growing weaker. She struggled to get to him, but her legs wouldn't move. The pain was overwhelming, no one injury singled out, rather, her entire body felt as though it were one gaping wound. She pulled herself along, using her telekinesis to move things that were too heavy for her arms to shove out of the way. She knew she was bleeding out, but she didn't care. She had to get to get to her boy. Jack was all that mattered now.

She found the frame of his bed, then the mattress, "oh god" she breathed as she shoved the mattress aside to reveal the small boy twisted around the rubble beneath him. His tears falling silently now as he fought for air. "It's alright baby, I'm here, Mommy's here." She said, her voice trembling as she tried to be strong. Tried to hold it together for what she was sure were their last moments. She pulled him into her arms and curled around him, as she heard foot steps through the rubble.

Maggie looked up at the man as he stepped closer, she could hear the others above trying to work their way down, her heart pounded in her ears drowning everything out but her sons ragged shallow breathing. His little lips were tinged with blue. He wasn't getting enough air… he was going to die in her arms.

The hunter came within range and she brought up her hand – Ricky Singer lifted off the ground and when she moved again he was flung backwards to be impaled by the broken pipes. She watched him bleed, and turned her attention once more to her son, stroking his hair, murmuring to him, trying to comfort him as much as she could knowing there was nothing else she could do. Her powers of healing were limited. Cuts and bruises, little aches and pains she could take away but this was beyond her reach no matter how hard she tried. And she tried... over and over again, desperately hoping that any little thing she could fix might be the one thing that would bring him back from the edge, keep him with her for just a little longer.

"Now is that any way to greet your father?" It was Ricky's voice, when there shouldn't have been one. She looked up sharply, prepared to lash out once more, to hear him gasping for breath as her son did, only to see his eyes blaze briefly with hell fire, as he pulled himself off of the pipes. "That still hurts you know."

"Does he feel it?" she asked, realizing this was a demon... her mother's demon… the one who had shared in her conception.

"Yes" He said with a sardonic smile, but it faded as she raised her hand to do it again. "There is time enough to torture your enemies later. "

She shook her head and turned her attention to her son once more. "Why are you here, now." She asked and tried to pull herself into an upright position, sheltering her child from the demon before her.

"Because you need me… because its time." He told her, not saying that now she was vulnerable, and weak. Now he could manipulate her, use her love against her, and she would thank him for it later.

Again she shook her head. "It doesn't matter now."

"What if I told you I could save your son? Give you use of your legs back." He asked as he knelt beside her. "But you have to make the decision fast. The others are on their way, and I need them alive a little while longer."

"If you can save him… I'm yours." She didn't have to think. There was no decision to make. It was her child's life. No price was too great for that. Not even her soul.

He reached out and touched her forehead, making a little mark there. When he did the boy screamed loudly, strongly. Still in pain but no longer at deaths door. "There are limitations. Some things you are going to have to do yourself. I can keep him alive until you find what you need. "It was a lie. He could cure the boy completely with a touch of his hand. But he wanted to see what she would be willing to do. It was one thing to offer ones self. It was another to shatter the world of one you loved. And whether she was willing to admit it to herself or not, she loved John Winchester.

"How?" she asked as she sat up right, easily now "What do I need? I have to get him out of here, they will be here soon." She could still hear the others trying to get down. "Shhh" she said cooing softly to the boy trying to quiet him, to give them more time.

"You let me worry about them. "The demon said smiling once more. "You need those tears of yours, "he said wiping her eyes with one long nail. He closed his hand around the moisture and opened it to reveal a small crystal, shining brightly in his hand. "The fathers flesh. And the blood of another nephalim. Personally I would use his younger… well middle son. The brotherly ties will strengthen the spell" He told her.

"What are you saying?" She asked, in confusion "that Sam is-"

"John brought home a hitchhiker the night little Sammy was conceived. His precious darling boy is just like you. There's a little salt to rub into his wounds for you. He deserves it after what he has done to you."

"Rick" Bobby called out "you alright man?"

"Yeah" the demon called back "She's dead" he used Rick Singers tone and expression. "I'll be up in a minute, we can torch this place and get the hell out of here. " He laughed softly as the man struggled inside him, trying to regain control. Ironic since the moment he did he would bleed to death anyway.

Magdalena took the crystallized tears in her hand and put it into the small leather pouch she wore around her neck. A medicine bag for protection against nightmares. Not that it saved her from the waking ones.

"Now… "He said as he tilted her face up to look at his. "If you are going to survive long enough to see your boy turn to a man you are going to have to let go … and let yourself become what you are meant to be. Feel me flowing through you. Don't fight it." He said softly "that's right… reach down inside you and grasp that power, focus on a safe place … and see yourself there. My people will find you. They will watch over the boy and help you with the rest. I'm going to have a little fun first, but I will join you when its time."

She nodded and closed her eyes, holding tight to Jack, she let the barriers fall and embraced the darkness within her, the power that she found there was almost overwhelming. It swirled around her, within her, until it shone through her eyes. She gasped sharply as she and her son began to fade, shifting into the shadows of the wreckage.

She watched there, literally one with the shadows as Rick got up and brushed himself off and started up the debris to the ground above.

"You sure she's dead" Bobby asked.

"Dead as Dead can be." The demon told him. Oh he was going to have fun before he let this body go. "We can give John the good news." He wanted to be there when he found out that his baby boy was the child of a fallen one. But that wasn't going to happen.

"He's out near Tahoe right now. Hunting a Wolf at the moment. "Bill Harvelle said "He'll check in when he's done."

Magdalena knew where to go, now. There was a safe house up in the mountains not far from Tahoe. It was secluded. If anyone was there when she arrived they wouldn't be there long. Maggie was through being understanding. Even before the Demon had awakened that part of her, the sight of her son, near death, had been enough to turn her from prey to hunter once more.

"Lets burn what's left of the place to the ground and salt it. I don't want her coming after my ass from the grave ya know" Ricky said and that was her cue. She closed her eyes let her self fade from the shadows in the basement, and reappear in the shadows of the trees surrounding the safe house.