Being possessed hadn't been a barrel of laughs. It had been one giant fucking nightmare after another and it had taken the Winchesters exorcising her (which was also a whole hell of a lot of not fucking fun)to wake her up.

She'd gone into serious hiding after that. It had taken prison to help her get her head on straight when she'd fucked up the first time, and even though it hadn't been her behind the wheel when Naamah had gone on her killing spree, it had still been blood on Faith's hands, and Faith's body. There was no way she was going back to prison so she'd isolated herself. Her own personal solitary confinement. It hadn't kept her from keeping up with what was going on in the world. She'd had a high roller taking up space for months, all the knowledge of that bitch stuck in her head and not a damn thing she could do about it.

So she patrolled. She patrolled and she slayed and she took out every ounce of aggression she had on every single demonic son of a bitch. Until her phone rang. The decision was made before she'd had the chance to really think better of it.

"Talk fast, Winchester."