Okay, here's the sequel to Lips of an Angel that I've been promising everyone. Sorry I was delayed, I'm in South Carolina visiting family and my grandfather doesn't have internet (not surprising) so I have to go to a cousin's house to make my rounds. So, again, sorry for the delay, here it is :)

I'm not exactly sure how long this takes place after Lips. Sam and Issa's son IS fifteen, so you do the math :)

Um, this is predominantly a DeanxIssa fanfic. There will be lemons between DeanxIssa and probably little to no lemons of SamxIssa. Not sure whose gonna get her in the end, too. Actually, I'm not sure about a lot of this story, so if you don't want to deal with unquestionable randomness and Dean moving in on Sam's girl, then feel free to not read, although I really hope you do :)

Summary: When Sam mysteriously disappears one afternoon, he leaves the rest of his family wandering around in the dark as to what happened to him. When Dean steps in Sam's place and takes the family on the road in order to find out what happened to him, they'll find out more than they bargained for . . . namely the selling of Sam's soul to Crowley for something that may shock to the core of the very foundations of his and Issa's marriage.

Disclaimer (only gonna do this once; don't see the point of doing multiple ones XD): I, Nagiana, do not own the rights to Supernatural. I do not own any characters in this fanfic except those of Issa and Jason and any other ones that I will mention at the beginning of the chapter. Of course, that does not mean that I would not WANT Sam or Dean ;)

Anyway, enough of the long intro! Sorry for the short prologue! Enjoy!

- Nagiana

The football whizzed through the air and Sam Winchester jumped up and caught it, landing with his feet planted firmly on the ground and a broad, proud beam plastered on his face. "Nice throw, Jason – you have quite an arm! You'll get back on the team before you even know it!" He called to his fifteen-year-old son, and Jason grinned back as Sam tossed it back to him. He caught it with the smooth finesse of a future Quarterback-in-the-making.
"Thanks dad!" Jason called back as he tossed it to him again. Sam caught it again and shrugged.
"Don't mention it. When are the tryouts again?" He asked him, and Jason quirked an eyebrow at him that screamed that it was truly Issa's womb that he had came from, and Sam couldn't help but cock a half-grin of amusement.
"Depends . . . will you actually show up this time?" He asked him, his voice laced with bitter venom, and the next time Sam caught the football, he held it and moved over to his son, his fingers tightening slightly on the toughened leather.
"Look, Jason, I'm sorry -"
"Uncle Dean's always there, and mom is too!" Jason interrupted him, his voice still bitter, and Sam pursed his lips a little as he held his son's gaze. "Uncle Dean is at all my tryouts, dad, he's at all my practices cheering for me, cheering me on – it doesn't matter what it is, he's always there! Mom's there too most of the time - Hell, even uncle Bobby shows up sometimes when he can manage to make it! Everyone who matters to me is always there except you!" Sam swallowed heavily as he clamped a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed.
"Look, Jason buddy, I'm sorry, but the office . . . I'm shooting for partner next month! I have to focus - I have to do my job! I'll show up when I can, but . . . you know I can't make any promises!" He told him, and Jason pursed his lips and looked away, trying not to let the disappointment show in his eyes. Now that look was purely Dean, and once again, Sam found his mind wandering to a dark place that he never wanted it to go.
If Jason didn't look so much like him physically, with his chocolate brown hair that fell down and curled slightly at the ends, green eyes and the same facial features, Sam wouldn't be able to help but seriously doubt his paternity – despite what Issa and Dean vehemently protested.
Sam sighed and looked down at the wet ground underneath their feet – the raindrop heavy grass and sandy mud. It had rained earlier that morning and well into the afternoon, and the steel gray grounds pregnant with water still hung ominously overhead. "And besides . . . Dean's always been better at that kind of stuff, anyway - sports and physical stuff like that. He played football too, you know, whenever we were at the same school for a definite amount of time - or any other sport for that matter - while I stayed in the classroom and studied. I guess you being a sport junkie is sort of a way for me to make up for lost ground, huh?" He asked him, laughing a little, and Jason shrugged and looked down at the ground.
"I just . . . dad, I really wish you were more around, you know?" He told him quietly. "Mom is so . . . she gets sick sometimes, and I worry for her, and she only gets better when you get home!" Sam nodded in understanding.
"Yeah, I understand buddy . . ." Sam spoke quietly, and really, he did. Issa was a Fallen Angel, who had been cast down from Heaven by God for getting caught with blasphemous revolutionary materials. Dean and Sam had found her seconds after she had Fallen to Earth, and like all Angels, Issa craved the warmth of mortals, Angels being as cold as the dead. When she touched Sam, his warmth spread into her and a process called 'Bonding' was immediately initiated. Bonding was when an Angel and the mortal she first touched, started to bond to each other based on that warmth. If allowed to continue, the Angel and his/her mortal would be Bonded together forever, the Angel only able to survive so long as that particular mortal was still giving her the warmth he or she needed, either through hugs, kisses . . . sex. It wasn't uncommon for the Angel and their mortal to fall in love, marry each other and then build a life together that often included kids and a sense of what mortals would call 'normalcy'. The 'sickness' that Jason was referring to, was when the warmth started to leave Issa, making her crave Sam and the warmth that only he could give her.
Jason had no idea that his mother was an Angel. Granted, she was a Fallen Angel, but technically still an Angel nonetheless.
Overall, they lived a fairly normal life in suburbia Kansas. Sam was an esteemed lawyer at the local law firm while Issa stayed at home helping Dean research his hunting jobs, almost serving as a female Bobby. Jason was the atypical kid, despite being something of a demi-Angel. He loved sports, videogames and positively adored his uncle Dean – had since he was a child, actually. Sam chalked it up to Dean and him just sharing the same interests which ensconced everything from vintage cars, to classic rock and of course – sports and women. But Sam wouldn't deny that it sometimes made him a tad bit jealous.
Sam sighed and smiled as he wrapped his son in a one armed hug, bringing him close to him. "I'll make you a deal, buddy, okay? If you get on the football team, I'll promise that I'll come to every one of your games unless I'm in court! Then I'd have to miss, or I'd go to jail!" He told him, laughing a little and Jason broke away from him and turned an excited gaze up onto him.
"You mean it, dad? Do you honestly mean it? You'll be at every one?" He asked him, and Sam smiled and nodded.
"I promise, Jason." He told him and Jason hugged him tightly.
"Thanks dad! You can bet you . . . butt I'll get on the team again this year!" He spoke in excitement, and Sam grinned and laughed alongside him as he hugged him back. This was probably the first hug he and his son had ever shared since he was ten!

"Wow, they seem to be getting along a little bit better lately!" Dean Winchester spoke in slight amazement as he and Issa gazed out the kitchen window into the scene unfolding before them in the backyard. He stood beside her, his hands shoved down into the pockets of the brown leather jacket that he had, had since time immemorial, it seemed, and Issa gave a half-shrug, a small smile spreading across her beautiful features as she did so.
"Believe it or not, Dean, this is rare for them!" She told him quietly before she shook her head. "Jason's a good kid. He gets great grades, he hangs out with the right crowd, but . . . it's these damned sports! He wants Sam to be at all his practices and his games, just like you are Dean! You're at every one, and it almost kills you when you're not! Jason sees that and he wants Sam to feel the same way! Sam says he does, that he wishes he could, but Jason doesn't believe him. Hell – I don't even believe him half the time, and I'm married to the man! Then, it escalates into a fight and soon, they're not talking for a week or two. Longest it's gone on was a month or two and that was three months ago!"
Dean's eyebrows rose in awe. "Well, damn! I didn't know it was so bad!" Issa sighed and turned her eyes onto him.
"Jason is so much like you, Dean!" She told him quietly, and he turned his eyes onto her as well. "He's so physical and every poster in his room is either a poster from a Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition or a poster of every car from the 1960's and 70's!" She sighed and looked back out the window. Sam and Jason were talking again and Sam handed him back the football, gesturing for him to back off so that he could throw it. Dean fallowed her eyes and he cracked a grin and laughed.
"Well, it figures then. My own son can barely look at me much less have enough time to act like me! It makes sense that my nephew has to instead!" He joked, a tad bitterly, and Issa turned a curious but concerned gaze onto Dean.
"How is Travis?" Dean shrugged.
"I don't know, Issa . . . I honestly don't know. Cassie isn't letting me see him anymore. She claims I'm too much of a 'bad influence' on him with my Hunting and all." He spoke, his voice belying the bitterness he felt aside but didn't allow to show. He never let his weaknesses show to Issa. From the beginning, he knew he had to be strong for her and he supposed that feeling extended to even then. He shook his head. "I don't where I fucked up with her, Issa – I honestly don't! I thought we were . . . I just didn't think we were doing badly until she served me up the divorce papers last year." He told her and she smiled a small smile as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry Dean . . ."
"You know, the only woman I ever really loved was you Issa . . ." He confessed, turning his eyes onto her. "Every one of my past lives, I was romantically involved with you in some way! Jem, Asa – Alexander!" He shook his head again. "The hotel room fifteen years ago . . . the . . . deal the three of us had weeks after you came back to us!" Issa sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest, where she looked down at the ground.
"Dean, I don't know what to say -"
"Mom – uncle Dean - come quickly!"
Issa and Dean reacted quickly, shooting for the door leading to the backyard with the speed born only from their days back when they were hunting together, when it was just Dean, Issa and Sam. They skidded to a stop at where Jason was kneeling, mud and wet grass flying everywhere as they came to a stop.
Sam was gone. He had completely disappeared.
"Jason, what happened to him?" Dean asked quickly, his eyes flying around them trying to find a trace of where Sam could be or could have gone, and Jason shook his head.
"I don't know! I told him to wait a minute as I went into the garage to get my new football and when I came back, he was gone!" He spoke and it was then, at her son's words that tears steadily welled up in Issa's eyes. He was gone! She didn't feel him anywhere around them! His warmth was completely gone!

Slowly, the warmth started to seep out of her body and suddenly, she was screaming Sam's name over and over again in fear. Without him, she wouldn't have her warmth! Without him she could . . . she could die.

When he didn't show himself or call for help or do anything to show he was alive and well, she eventually slumped into Dean's arms, sobbing, as his heart fell down into his stomach. Where could he have gone? Did he just walk away or did something actually happen to him?
As he wrapped his arms around Issa and gently started shushing her, Jason reacted almost as badly as his mother had. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over as sobs wracked his body. The young teenager bent over the mud and grass and sobbed, the only two words spilling out were 'you promised'.