Chapter Text
Life had never been easy for Raevyn. She had been born from desperation, loneliness, and one terrible mistake.
Her mother was a witch — not an evil woman, despite what most hunters would’ve claimed, but a lonely one. She had spent decades studying old magic buried beneath forgotten churches, abandoned forests, and brittle pages stained yellow with age. Other witches avoided her, hunters knew of her, and ordinary people rarely stayed around long once they sensed something strange about her.
Still, despite all her power, there was one thing she wanted more than anything else: A child.
Not for selfishness, nor legacy alone, but because she could not bear the thought of disappearing from the world without leaving some part of herself behind. She wanted someone to teach, someone to love and someone who would carry her knowledge long after she was gone.
So, in a moment of grief-driven recklessness, she did something irreversible. She summoned a demon. He wasn’t some low-level crossroads mutt desperate for a deal; he was something much older and much more powerful.
He was a creature whispered about carefully in Hell and was spoken of even more carefully by witches. He was a demon ancient enough to know languages long forgotten by humanity, cruel enough to enjoy the sound of fear, and intelligent enough to recognise immediately that the witch standing before him was both desperate and dangerous. So, with no other option, she bound him to her and kept him trapped for months beneath sigils carved into the floors of a hidden cabin deep within the woods, until eventually she got what she wanted: a child.
Afterwards, she freed him, and then she ran. She knew exactly what would happen if he found her again. Demons were possessive creatures by nature, and powerful demons were worse. If he discovered what she had done — what she had created — he would either claim the child as his own or destroy them both for daring to deceive him. Nine months later, Raevyn was born beneath a thunderstorm so violent the windows of the cabin shattered before dawn. Her mother raised her hidden away in the Appalachian forests with the help of a spirit named Jane.
Jane had once been human many decades ago, though Raevyn never learned the full story of how she died. She remained bound to the forest surrounding the cabin, lingering within the old house like a patient ghost. Over the years, she became something between a guardian, an aunt, and an older sister to Raevyn’s mother, offering them shelter whenever hunters, demons, or worse drew too close. And when Raevyn was born, Jane loved her immediately.
The cabin became the closest thing Raevyn ever had to a home.
Despite everything, her childhood was strangely gentle. Her mother taught her how to read from old spellbooks and poetry novels. She learned sigils before multiplication, herbs before geography, and how to recognise sulfur before she understood algebra. They lived quietly for the most part, hidden beneath layers of protective magic woven into the forest itself.
But there were always signs that Raevyn was not entirely human. Lights flickered violently when she cried as a child, windows cracked when she got angry, and animals watched her strangely. Sometimes, when she woke from nightmares, the room smelled faintly of smoke and sulfur.
Her mother explained it away carefully each time, “Magic,” she would say, “Strong emotions and nothing more.”
Raevyn believed her…mostly.
As she grew older, they travelled often. Weeks at a time spent drifting between motels, old towns, roadside diners, and forgotten highways. Her mother claimed they couldn’t stay in one place too long. Only later did Raevyn realise they had been running. They were always running.
She was taught magic from an early age: protection sigils, banishment rituals, hex bags, wards, and eventually combat. Her mother trained her to fight long before she understood why.
“Control is survival,” she would say whenever Raevyn became frustrated, “If you lose control of yourself, the world will try to control you instead.”
But when Raevyn turned seventeen, the truth finally came out. The confession happened late at night, while rain battered the cabin roof. Jane stood silently near the fireplace while Raevyn’s mother sat across from her, looking more exhausted than Raevyn had ever seen her. And then she explained everything. The demon, the binding, the pregnancy, and finally, what Raevyn truly was:
Half witch.
Half demon.
Raevyn reacted quietly at first. She simply stared ahead while her mother spoke, nodding occasionally, as if the information wasn’t splitting her open from the inside, but physically, her body betrayed her immediately. Her hands shook violently in her lap, the candles throughout the cabin flickered black for half a second, and the smell of sulfur filled the room so suddenly that Jane stiffened near the fire.
Raevyn’s breathing turned uneven as years of confusion rearranged themselves painfully in her mind. That’s what all of this had been about. The hiding. The running. The fear of hunters. The lessons about demons. Her mother hadn’t taught her about monsters because they were dangerous; she had taught her because Raevyn was one. And somehow, despite understanding why her mother lied, the realisation still hurt enough to make her chest ache.
Then came the second truth: Her father was looking for them.
Her mother had sensed it recently — whispers in Hell, movement in the supernatural underground, demons appearing too close to their territory. He still didn’t know about Raevyn specifically, but he was searching for the witch who had bound him all those years ago. Raevyn’s mother knew that if he found her, she would die, but if he discovered Raevyn existed? Nobody knew what would happen.
Jane tried to comfort Raevyn afterwards, but the girl barely heard her. Hurt and overwhelmed, she left the cabin that night and wandered into town just to breathe somewhere that didn’t feel like it was collapsing around her. When she finally returned hours later, her mother was gone. Only Jane remained.
The spirit looked heartbroken, “She had no choice,” Jane said softly, “She’s trying to protect you.”
Raevyn broke apart completely then. Because, despite everything, despite the lies, despite the fear - she still wanted her mother.
Jane handed her a folded letter. Inside, written in familiar hurried handwriting, were the final words her mother left behind:
My sweet babybird,
I am sorry it had to happen this way. If I could stay with you safely, I would. But your father is searching for me now, and if he finds us together, you will never know peace.
I made a reckless decision many years ago. I summoned something ancient and terrible because I was lonely enough to believe I could control it. But you, Raevyn… you were never a mistake.
You are the best thing I have ever done.
Protect yourself. Trust your instincts. Remember everything I taught you.
And please — when the time comes — find something in this world worth loving enough to stay for.
I love you endlessly.
— Mum
Raevyn left the cabin that same night. She hugged Jane goodbye beneath the trees while the spirit cried silently into her hair. And then she disappeared into the world alone.
For five years, Raevyn drifted. She slept in motels, abandoned buildings, cheap apartments, and occasionally beneath the open sky. She learned how to survive quietly. Hunters crossed her path more than once, though none ever discovered exactly what she was. Demons sensed something strange about her immediately, but most kept their distance once they realised how unstable her power could become.
Over time, Raevyn sharpened herself into something dangerous. She practised magic obsessively, learned self-defence, mastered exorcisms and studied demonology. Slowly, her infernal side grew stronger too. Sometimes her eyes glowed red when she lost control, and shadows moved strangely around her. Occasionally, she swore that Hell itself seemed to whisper back when she used too much power. And still, she survived.
Eventually, she settled temporarily in an abandoned apartment tucked above an old record store in a dying town nobody cared enough to notice. For a few weeks, life became almost peaceful, and then, two hunters knocked on her door.
Hunters weren’t usually a problem. Most of them passed through towns like this without ever noticing Raevyn at all, but something about these two immediately put her on edge. Not danger exactly — more like irritation waiting to happen.
Raevyn sighed softly and pressed her forehead against the apartment door for a moment before finally pulling it open. The two men stood in the dimly lit hallway outside.
The first looked older by a few years, broad-shouldered and sharp around the edges in a way that screamed trouble before he even opened his mouth. Short, dirty-blonde hair framed a face worn by exhaustion, old scars and too many bad decisions. Green eyes flicked over her carefully, observant beneath heavy lashes, while rough stubble shadowed his jaw. He wore a dark leather jacket over a faded flannel shirt and carried himself with the loose confidence of someone who either won every fight he started or simply refused to lose them.
The second man stood slightly behind him, noticeably taller and quieter. Long limbs, messy brown hair curling slightly near his ears and warm hazel eyes that seemed far too intelligent to belong in a building like this. Unlike the other hunter’s intimidating sharpness, his presence felt steadier. Sympathetic, even. Still dangerous though. Raevyn could tell that immediately. His posture was relaxed, but not careless. Like he was always prepared for something to go wrong.
Both of them looked painfully out of place in her dying little apartment block.
Raevyn leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms loosely over her chest as suspicion settled across her face, “Can I help you?” she asked flatly, already sounding bored with the entire interaction.
The blonde one smiled quickly, easily, and practised, “Building maintenance.”
Raevyn stared at him in silence. The lie was so bad she almost respected it. Her gaze drifted deliberately toward the weapons poorly concealed beneath their jackets before returning to his face. Behind the blonde hunter, the taller one looked vaguely apologetic already.“We’re just checking in with tenants,” the blonde continued smoothly, “Seeing if anybody’s noticed anything strange around here lately.”
Raevyn raised an eyebrow, “Strange?”
“Uh, noises. Weird smells. Electrical issues.”
“If you’re maintenance,” she replied dryly, “why exactly would you care if the building smells weird?”
The taller man visibly fought the urge to smile, and the blonde hunter opened his mouth, paused, then pointed vaguely down the hallway like he might discover an answer hidden there, "Mould?”
Raevyn snorted softly. For a second, none of them spoke. Then a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth despite herself, “Well,” she said, “there’s nothing weird around here. But if you’re looking for something suspicious, you could always try a mirror.”
The blonde blinked.
The taller hunter outright coughed to hide a laugh.
Before either of them could answer, Raevyn shut the door with a quiet giggle and locked it immediately afterwards, “Idiots.”
Raevyn assumed that would be the end of it- it wasn’t.
Three nights later, she spotted the same two men again while cutting through an abandoned side road a few blocks from her apartment. An old, rotting house sat crooked at the end of the street, half-swallowed by weeds and dead trees. Most locals avoided it completely after dark.
Flashlights flickered wildly behind the upstairs windows. Raevyn slowed slightly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket as a smirk crossed her face, “Well,” she murmured to herself, tilting her head toward the house, “that’s usually not a good sign.” And curiosity got the better of her almost immediately.
The front door creaked open beneath her hand as she stepped inside. Dust coated nearly every surface, and the air smelled damp, mouldy, and wrong in the way haunted places often did. Beneath it lingered the unmistakable metallic sting of iron and fresh salt.
Definitely hunters.
Upstairs floorboards groaned softly overhead alongside muffled voices and heavy movement. Raevyn moved carefully through the dark house, silent from years of practice. By the time she reached the second floor, she could hear chanting beneath the sound of flickering lights.
She paused outside the half-open bedroom door and peeked inside.
The two men moved through the room with surprising coordination. Salt lines had been carved across the floorboards while symbols and old burn marks covered the walls. One of them held a shotgun loaded with rock salt while the other flipped quickly through the pages of a worn journal.
A ghost screamed somewhere nearby.
Raevyn winced slightly, “Yeah,” she muttered under her breath, “that thing’s been annoying for weeks.”
The spirit lunged suddenly from the far side of the room — pale, twisted and furious. The blonde hunter reacted instantly, firing a deafening blast that sent the entity reeling backwards while the taller one began reciting an exorcism. Latin filled the room rapidly, practised and confident.
The ghost shrieked violently before finally dissolving into smoke and ash. Silence followed.
The brothers relaxed almost immediately afterwards, though scratches and bruises already marked both of them from the fight. The taller one lowered the journal with a tired sigh while the blonde rolled his shoulder painfully.
Unfortunately, that was the exact moment Raevyn shifted her weight, and a floorboard creaked loudly beneath her boot. Both men spun instantly, guns aimed directly at her chest. Raevyn froze before slowly raising her hands, “Easy,” she said, unimpressed despite the situation, “I was just curious.”
The blonde hunter narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know your maintenance story still sucks.”
The taller hunter lowered his weapon first, “How did you know we were here?” he asked cautiously.
Raevyn shrugged, “Distinctly erratic flashlight movements in an abandoned murder house usually mean one of two things.” She ticked the options off lazily on her fingers, “Teenagers filming a ghost-hunting YouTube video or people messing with something supernatural.” Her eyes drifted toward the burned salt lines, “You two seemed a little too competent to be influencers.”
To her surprise, the blonde hunter laughed quietly at that, “Fair enough.”
For a moment, the room settled into cautious silence. All three of them studied each other carefully, each clearly trying to decide whether the others were a threat. Finally, the taller man stepped forward slightly, “I’m Sam.”
The blonde gestured toward himself with the barrel of his shotgun, “Dean.”
Raevyn hesitated briefly before answering, “Raevyn.”
Something strange flickered across Dean’s face at the name, gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but none of them understood why yet.
Raevyn walked with the brothers back toward the main road, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, while cold night air curled through the empty streets around them. The town was quiet at this hour — dim streetlights buzzing overhead, old neon signs flickering weakly in diner windows and distant music humming somewhere far off down the block.
Conversation came easier than she expected. It was mostly small talk at first. Raevyn asked questions about hunting carefully, pretending she knew less than she actually did. The brothers answered vaguely enough to avoid sounding insane if anyone overheard them, though it was obvious they’d been doing this for years. Cases, strange towns, disappearances, things hiding where they shouldn’t be. Their lives sounded exhausting.
“So what?” Raevyn asked lightly, glancing between them, “You just drive around the country fighting evil full-time?”
Dean smirked, “Pretty much.”
“And this town?” she asked, “Just another stop?”
Sam nodded, “Yeah. We hear about something weird, we check it out, handle it and move on.”
Raevyn smiled faintly. She understood that kind of life more than she wanted to admit. For a moment, silence settled comfortably between them as they walked. Raevyn checked the time on her phone before exhaling softly, “Do you guys wanna grab a drink or something?”
The question slipped out casually. No hidden motive, no flirting — just the rare impulse to not spend another night alone with her own thoughts. Honestly, she expected them to say no.
Instead, Dean answered immediately, “Absolutely.”
Sam rolled his eyes fondly beside him.
---
The bar was set near the edge of town, tucked between an old laundromat and a pawn shop nobody seemed to visit. Warm amber lighting spilt through the foggy windows while old rock music hummed softly from a battered jukebox in the corner.
Raevyn led them toward a booth near the back wall.
“You always sit back here?” Sam asked as they settled into the worn seats.
Raevyn shrugged, “Best people-watching spot in the building.”
Dean looked amused already, “That so?”
“Mhm.” She nodded toward the crowd lazily, “You can learn a lot about people when they think nobody’s paying attention.” Her eyes drifted briefly across the room, “Plus, in towns like this? You never really know what’s gonna walk through those doors.”
Dean snorted softly into his beer while Sam shook his head with a small smile. The conversation stretched more easily after that.
For the first time in a long while, Raevyn almost felt normal sitting there with them. The brothers talked easily between themselves, bickering occasionally in that effortless way only people who’d spent years together could manage. Dean was sharper around the edges — sarcastic, cocky and constantly making stupid comments just to get reactions — while Sam balanced him out completely. Quieter. Thoughtful. Easier to read.
Raevyn found herself relaxing despite every instinct telling her not to. It felt nice. Dangerous, but nice.
Eventually, the topic shifted toward how they became hunters in the first place. The mood at the table changed almost immediately.
Dean’s expression tightened subtly while Sam stared down into his drink for a second before finally speaking. Between the two of them, they explained enough for Raevyn to piece it together — their mother’s death, the fire, Jessica, years of chasing the thing responsible. Loss clung to both of them heavily.
Raevyn listened quietly, genuine sadness softening her face, “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, “That’s horrific.”
Dean gave a small shrug, like he didn’t know what to do with sympathy anymore. Sam nodded once, “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, “but we’re gonna find the demon that did it eventually.”
The word demon made something cold twist suddenly in Raevyn’s stomach. Her heartbeat stumbled painfully.
“We will,” Dean added, voice harder now, “One way or another.”
Raevyn swallowed, and her fingers tightened slightly around her drink, “So,” she said carefully, forcing her tone light, “I’m guessing you’re not exactly fans of demons then.”
The question came out fast and tense.
Sam noticed immediately. His expression shifted as he studied her across the table, “You okay?”
Raevyn nodded far too quickly, “Yep.” The lie sounded terrible even to her.
She stood abruptly from the booth, her knee catching the underside of the table hard enough to rattle the drinks. Beer sloshed over the rim of Dean’s bottle, “Shit — sorry.”
Dean frowned slightly now, watching her carefully, “Where’re you going?”
For half a second, Raevyn blanked completely.
‘Run.’
The instinct hit so suddenly that it almost made her dizzy.
‘They’re hunters.’
Not just hunters — experienced hunters. Smart hunters. The kind who noticed things. The kind who connected dots… And she had spent the last hour sitting here laughing with them like she wasn’t exactly the kind of creature they killed.
“I should head home,” she said finally, voice thinner than before, “It’s late.”
Sam looked unconvinced.
Dean looked suspicious.
Raevyn forced a quick smile anyway before slipping away from the table and heading toward the exit. The moment she pushed open the front door, the lights near the bar flickered violently overhead.
Once.
Twice.
Then steadied.
Cold air swept briefly through the room behind her before the door slammed shut.
Dean and Sam both looked toward the entrance instinctively before slowly turning toward each other. Neither of them spoke for a moment. But something about Raevyn suddenly felt very, very wrong.
Sam barely slept that night, and the next morning, Dean noticed immediately. They sat inside the motel room surrounded by empty coffee cups, lore books and scattered newspaper clippings from the previous case, “You gonna say it,” Dean muttered eventually, “or keep staring at the wall like a depressed golden retriever?”
Sam ignored him for a moment.
Then finally: “There’s something wrong with her.”
Dean leaned back in his chair slightly, “Yeah,” he admitted, “I know.”
Neither of them had missed it. The flickering lights. The panic in her face at the mention of demons. The air in the bar had suddenly turned ice-cold when she left. And underneath all of it, there was something else neither brother could fully explain. Something instinctive. Hunters learned to trust feelings like that after enough years on the road.
“She didn’t feel possessed,” Sam said thoughtfully, “Not exactly.”
Dean frowned, “No sulfur either.”
“Not until she got nervous.”
The room fell quiet briefly. Then Dean stood suddenly, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, “Well,” he said, “guess we’re finding out.”
---
Raevyn’s apartment was empty by the time they arrived, but the front door was unlocked. Inside, the place already looked abandoned. Drawers were left half-open, and there were empty shelves. A few forgotten items were scattered carelessly across the floor like she’d packed too fast to think clearly. The lingering scent of smoke and incense still clung faintly to the air.
Dean looked around the room carefully, “She ran.”
Sam crouched near the couch where a faded sigil had been carved subtly into the wood beneath one of the cushions, “She expected us to figure it out.”
Dean exhaled quietly through his nose, “Yeah.”
As they headed back outside, movement across the street caught Sam’s attention immediately, “There.”
Raevyn stood near the corner heading toward the bus station with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and an old backpack hanging from the other. Head down. Hood up. Walking fast. Dean called after her first, “Raevyn!”
She froze instantly, and for a second, she looked like she considered bolting anyway. Instead, she turned slowly to face them. The exhaustion on her face hit Sam immediately. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all. Dean crossed his arms, “You always disappear after one awkward conversation?”
Raevyn attempted a weak smile, “Usually sooner than that, actually.”
Neither brother laughed. The silence that followed made her stomach twist painfully, “I’m kinda in a hurry,” she said eventually, adjusting the strap on her bag, “So…”
“Where are you going?” Sam asked gently.
“Does it matter?”
Dean stepped slightly closer, “When somebody vanishes overnight after freaking out about demons? Yeah. Kinda.”
Raevyn looked away immediately. People bustled around them through the early morning streets while an old bus hissed quietly nearby, waiting for passengers. Everything around them felt strangely normal compared to the conversation unfolding in the middle of it. Sam softened his tone carefully, “Raevyn,” he said, “what are you?”
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, she said nothing at all. Then she laughed softly under her breath, though there wasn’t any humour in it, “That’s a complicated question.”
Dean watched her carefully now, alert but not hostile, “We’re listening.”
Raevyn looked between them both, clearly trying to decide whether lying was worth the effort anymore. Eventually, her shoulders sagged slightly in defeat, “My mother was a witch,” she admitted quietly, “A powerful one.”
Sam exchanged a glance with Dean but stayed silent.
“She did something stupid,” Raevyn continued, “Summoned a demon she couldn’t control. Bound him for months.” Her throat tightened slightly, “And then… I happened.”
Dean’s expression shifted subtly. Realisation.
Raevyn saw it immediately and looked away before either of them could react properly, “She never meant for any of it to happen the way it did,” she said quickly, “She was scared and lonely and desperate and—”
“You’re half demon,” Dean finished carefully, not accusing, just stunned.
Raevyn nodded once, and silence settled heavily between them. A car passed nearby, somebody laughed further down the street and somewhere behind them, the bus station radio crackled softly with static. For the first time in years, Raevyn felt truly seen. It terrified her.
“I don’t hurt people,” she said suddenly, voice quieter now, “I try very hard not to.”
Sam’s expression softened almost immediately, “We know.”
Her eyes flicked toward him sharply, like she hadn’t expected that answer.
Dean studied her for another long moment before speaking again, “The lights in the bar,” he said. “That happens when you lose control?”
Raevyn gave a small nod, “Sometimes.”
“And the ghost house?”
“I knew what you were doing because I grew up around this stuff.”
She paused and then stepped backwards slightly, tightening her grip on her bag, “You should go,” she said softly, “Seriously.”
Dean frowned, “Raevyn—”
“No.” Her voice cracked slightly before she steadied it again, “You hunt monsters. I get it. That’s your job. And maybe I’m not fully one, but I’m close enough that eventually this becomes a problem.”
Sam opened his mouth to argue, but she continued before he could, “I’ve spent my whole life running from hunters, demons and things worse than both. I know how these stories end.” Her eyes drifted downward briefly, “And honestly? I’d rather you remember me as some weird girl from a bar than whatever I might become later.” The words landed harder than she intended.
Dean’s face tightened slightly while Sam looked almost genuinely hurt by the idea.
Raevyn forced herself to smile anyway, “I’ll be fine,” she lied.
Neither of them believed her.
The bus doors opened behind her with a mechanical hiss. Raevyn glanced back toward it before looking at them one final time, “Maybe we’ll see each other again someday,” she said quietly, “But for your sake…” A faint flicker passed through the nearby streetlight overhead, “…I kinda hope we don’t.” Then she turned and walked toward the bus without looking back.
Sam and Dean stood there silently as the doors shut behind her.
A moment later, the bus pulled away from the curb and disappeared slowly down the road. Dean watched it go with a frown. Something told him this wasn’t the last time they’d see Raevyn.
Not even close.