Sammy was sat on the ratty carpet in front of the hulking antique of a TV while Dean channel surfed from the relative comfort of the only armchair in the room.
After going through each channel three times he tossed the remote onto the floor with a snort of disgust.
"Don't bother." He grumbled as Sam picked up the remote to start the process again. "There's nothing on."
Sam stopped and pointed at the program on the screen. "What about this?"
He squinted at the TV. Sam had found some dumb program about Big Foot.
"Seriously? You know it's not real."
"Yeah. I know. Just thought it might be funny."
"Well, whatever. Knock yourself out."
He jumped out of the chair, made his way over to the bed and flopped down on it with a grunt of distaste, rolling his eyes as he watched Sam crawl up onto the chair in his place.
For an seven year old, he sure had some weird ideas about what made for good TV.
God he was board.
Dad had been gone for four days already, and just an hour ago he'd called to say he'd be gone for at least another two.
They had food and money, the room was paid up for the whole week, but the boredom, it seeped into the room and hung over the boys like a smothering blanket of fog.
There's only so many hours a day you can stare at a TV, even when you're a kid.
Deans muscles felt twitchy.
He had to get out for a while.
Sam was sat cross legged in the chair, a pad of paper in his lap, watching the TV with a frown and then scribbling on the paper ernestly.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Writing my journal."
Dean jumped up and snatched the pad from him.
"Hey!" Sam yelped in surprise and tried to grab it back but Dean was already holding it high above his head.
On the page he'd been working on Sam had drawn a picture of a Bigfoot. He was taking notes from that stupid show.
Hurriedly he flicked through the front pages of the pad and saw more of the same. Notes on ghosts, vampires, werewolves.
A cold stone of fear sat in Deans stomach.
"Why the hell you doin' this?" He yelled angrily, making Sam blink in surprise and recoiled slightly.
He shrugged. "I dunno. I just wanted to make a journal like Daddy's."
"How do you know Dad has a journal?"
"Last time he was really drunk and he was asleep the whole day? I found it. I just wanted to make my own."
"You shouldn't go through Dads stuff. It's private." Dean looked carefully at the descriptions scrawled across the pages and frowned. "Where did you get this information from?"
"Scooby Doo and stuff."
Dean laughed despite himself.
He tossed the pad back to Sam. "Garlic doesn't work on vampires you jerk."
Sam glared at his brother and pressed the papers to his chest. "It's just a game. I only did it to pass the time, like Dad does. Right?"
Dean looked away. "Yeah. Right." He grabbed his jacket and stuffed some money in his pocket. "Look. I'm gonna go to the store and grab some snacks. You stay here ok?"
"That's not fair! Why can't I come too!"
"Sammy. I need you to stay by the phone in case Dad calls."
He pouted and flopped back in the chair. "Fine."
Dean paused by the door. "I won't be long, and remember…"
"I know, I know.. Don't answer the door and don't answer the phone unless it rings twice and then rings back. I'm not a baby Dean."
"I know. Just watch your stupid show and stay out of trouble."
He shut the door and pulled on it to check it was locked.
For a moment he stood still, listening to his brother shift about on the other side.
God. He'd thought Sam had found out, that he'd seen the journal and understood what it was, but he'd only thought it was a game, an odd adult game, and he'd just been copying his Dad.
Dean didn't want Sam to know yet.
Dad hadn't said he wasn't to say anything, but for a long as he could remember, it had been this unwritten rule between them to not talk about things in front of Sam.
While he might explain to Dean how to kill a shape shifter or lay a spirit to rest, none of this was ever said in front of his brother.
If Dad had seen Sam watching that dumb Bigfoot show, he would have ruffled his hair and shrugged his shoulders "Who know Sammy, maybe it IS real."
But to Dean he had told the truth .
A light rain had began to fall. Lights from the motel sign and the store front lay reflected in the greasy puddles that had started to gather. Dean hunched his shoulders and trotted off across the car park.
The store was split in two with groceries and snacks on one side and on the other a small diner, separated from the main store by half a dozen prehistoric looking arcade games.
A local country station was playing on the radio, a whining voice accompanied by some guitar and violin, warbling about his love never finding her way home to him. Dean quickly grabbed some chips, a few cans of soda and a pack of individually wrapped apple pies, taking them to the counter to pay for them.
"That everything for you sugar?" The woman behind the counter leaned forward and smiled with her too red lips and over plucked eyebrows, she looked to Dean almost clown like.
"Yes thank you m'am."
"You stayin' over the way there?" She pointed a finger at the motel behind them and Dean nodded.
"Not seen your folks."
"My Dad's sleeping a lot. He's not to be disturbed."
The woman pulled her face into a mask of grotesque sympathy that Dean had seen all too often.
He wondered just how many kids this woman had looked at like she was looking at Dean. She'd put two and two together and come up with five. Probably presumed his Dad was an alcoholic or junkie, sending his kid out for snacks while he lay in bed.
Sometimes this made him angry. He'd have to bite down on the inside of his mouth not to shout at people like this that his Dad was not some waster, his Dad was a hero.
Instead he just smiled and took his bag off the counter.
As he went to leave though, his eye was drawn back to the games.
Almost unconsciously, his hand slipped into his pocket and found the change there.
Aw, what the hell.
He had a few minutes.
Slapping a handful of quarters on the side of the game he started up a shoot 'em up alien game and settled down to some mindless fun.
Halfway through the first game he noticed a kid his age standing just a little off his shoulder.
Dean carried on playing but watched him from the corner of his eye.
He was slight, a little shorter than he was, with a mess of black hair and a worried look on his face.
Maybe he was lost. He kind of looked like some street kid. His face was dirty and his clothes looked like he'd been wearing them for days.
Dean sighed as the game ended and then turned towards the kid.
"Did you want this game?"
He shook his head and just stared at Dean.
"You ok?"
The kid shrugged.
"You lost?"
"No. I know where I am."
"I meant are you lost, you know, can't find your Mom or Dad."
The kid frowned slightly.
"I don't know where my Father is."
"What about your Mom?"
He looked away, shrugged slightly and Dean shut his mouth. Of all people, he should know not to press too hard when it came to talking about family.
All his Dad had told him meant he shouldn't even be talking to this kid, but God, he was so lonely with only Sam for company.
"You on your own?"
"Yes."
"Well…. You gotta name?"
"Castiel."
Dean laughed. "Were your parents hippies or something?"
The kid tilted his head slightly. "I don't understand your question…"
"It's ok, never mind." Dean slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Are you hungry? I was just gonna make some food for me and my brother. We're not meant to let people in the room but, no offence, you don't look like you could rip a wet paper bag."
"You talk a lot."
"So I've been told. Come on. I'm Dean by the way."
Castiel just nodded and for a second Dean thought the boy hadn't needed telling.
"Dad said we can't let anyone in the room!" Sam whispered worriedly at Dean.
Castiel was standing awkwardly near the door while the brothers stood on the far side of the room near the kitchenette.
"Look. He's just a kid. I think he's lost. Didn't Dad say we should help people? That's what he does. We'll give him some food and then we'll help him find his parents or whoever."
Sam glanced at the kid, who now had his hands laced in front of him, worrying his fingers through each other. "What if Dad finds out?"
Dean grabbed hold of Sams shoulders and squeezed them. "He won't know if you don't tell."
"Fine. But if he does find out, it's not my fault."
Dean looked over at Castiel. "You ok there? Come and grab some food."
The boys laid out their meal on the tiny fold down table. Sodas, chips, cereal, cookies and the pies.
Castiel looked at the food dispassionately and slowly sat down.
"You gonna eat?" Dean said through a mouthful of chips.
He picked up a cookie and looked at it thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose the body needs nourishment."
Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean and he just shrugged back.
"Yeah, right. So… Dig in."
Elbowing Dean, Sam jerked his head towards Castiel. The kid was just staring at his cookie, turning it over and over in his hand. Noticing the boys looking at him, he flushed a little and took a tiny bite, chewing it almost experimentally.
Dean smiled quizzically at Castiel.
"Castiel's a pretty weird name. Does everyone call you that."
"What else would they call me?"
"I mean, do you have, like, a shorter version of your name?" Dean sighed as he watched the kid almost physically struggling to understand what was being said. "Like, does any one call you Cass for example."
He shook his head. "Not until just now."
"Ok. How about we call you Cass?"
"If you want."
There was an awkward silence for a moment and Cass took another crumb of cookie in his mouth. He seemed to Dean to be almost scrutinising them, trying to work out how to act like they were.
Maybe he'd made a mistake inviting this strange kid in.
He'd thought he was scared and that was why he was acting so quiet and evasive, but now he wondered if it was something else, if the kid was maybe…
Cass glanced up at Dean and they locked gazes.
"So. Dad not about huh?" Dean kept his eyes on Cass while he pushed pie into his mouth.
Cass shook his head. "My Father's been missing for a while now."
"Yeah, well. Dad's do that."
Sam looked from one boy to the next, feeling the tension that was rising up between them, but unable to work out what was going on.
"Are you really lost?"
"I was looking for someone."
"Did you find them?"
"Yes."
Sam shifted slightly closer to his brother.
Even though he thought he already knew the answer, Dean asked anyway. "Who were you looking for?"
Castiels eye's were blue. Very bright, almost like a dolls eyes, not quite right, too perfect.
"I was looking for you Dean."
Slowly, Dean stood up and pulled Sam behind him.
"I mean you no harm." Cass raised his hands beseechingly and pushed his chair back so he was stood as well.
"What are you?"
"I'm here to help."
"You're not human."
He felt Sam tense up, his hand tighten around Deans arm.
Cass shook his head. "No, but don't be alarmed, I…"
"Tell me what you are!"
"I'm an angel."
"What?"
Castiel moved slowly away from the table and Dean backed up, keeping distance between them.
"I'm an angel of the Lord."
"Bull! There's no such things as angels!"
Cass just shrugged.
Desperately trying to make sense of it all Dean kept moving backwards, heading to the beds. Dad had left him a gun to use in an emergency, and he figured this qualified.
"If you're an angel, where are your wings?"
"You can't see them."
"Huh. …. And how come you're just a kid?" Dean pushed Sam further back as his legs hit the back of the bed.
"This is my vessel. I'm only inhabiting him for the short time I need to be here, and then I'll leave him to grow up."
"You possessed some kid?"
Dean now had Sam pressed against the wall behind him, and was fishing about under his pillow for the gun.
"Jimmy is my vessel. He was born to this role."
"Sounds a lot like possession to me." Dean found the gun and raised it, shooting it double handed at Cass.
Sam screamed and clapped his hands over his ears.
As the retort faded Cass looked down at his chest and then back up at Dean.
"I don't think Jimmy's going to be pleased about the hole in his shirt.
Deans hands shook, the gun still pointed at Cass.
"How….."
"Dean. I need you to listen to me. I'm here to protect you. When you're grown up, you have a very important job to do, but some angels don't want you to do it."
"Stay back!" Dean hissed. Nothing his Dad had taught him covered this. All he could think to do was keep himself between Sam and that thing.
Castiel raised his hands slightly then pointed towards the window.
"I want you to go to that window and look out. Carefully so they don't see you."
Dean glanced quickly at the window and then back at Cass.
"Who."
"The other angel."
Sam was tugging at Deans shirt sleeve. "look." He whispered fearfully.
Across from the motel stood a tall man men. Even though it was raining, he stood still, oblivious of it, seemingly watching the rooms, perhaps theirs in particular.
Dean slipped across the room and looked at him, he shot a questioning look at Cass who just stared at him impassively
"What does he want?"
"He want you dead."
Sam's face drained of colour and Dean glared angrily at Cass.
"Well, don't sugar coat it. Why the hell do they want me dead?"
"Because you're a vessel."
"Like Jimmy?"
"Yes. Only significantly more important."
"What if I don't want to be a vessel?"
Castiel frowned. "No one ever says no. There's a choice, of course, but they never refuse."
"Well I do. I say no. So you can go out there and tell your friend there's no need to kill me!"
"It doesn't work like that I'm afraid." Cass paused and glanced out the window. "And he's not my friend. He's my Brother. And he'd kill me too."
"What we gonna do?"
"Wait."
"Wait?"
"Help is coming."
Dean turned to his brother "Sammy, go sit on the bed and don't move." Sam was terrified, he could see it in the way his lip trembled and his eyes were glassy and far away, but he sat as he was told to.
Dean stalked across the room to Castiel and pushed him against the wall.
"You better start talking. What are we going to do? I can't call Dad and there's no way I'm letting anything happen to Sam."
He saw Castiel glance over at Sam and his stomach twisted in fear.
"What!?"
Cass lowered his voice. "Sam is to die also."
"That's not happening."
"You don't have a say in this."
Dean slammed the angel against the wall angrily and opened his mouth to give him all the insults he'd ever learned, when a noise came from the bathroom stopped him.
They all turned towards it.
"Sam. Get under the bed and don't come out until I say." Dean hissed.
Obediently he slid off the bed and crawled under it.
Raising the gun again, he walked towards the bathroom.
"If its angels your gun won't be any use."
"Well, I feel better with it and I can sure put some holes in them, maybe lead them away from Sam."
"Your loyalty to your brother is admirable but ultimately fool hardy."
"Shut your mouth."
From inside the bathroom came a crash, followed by a muffled "Sonofabitch!"
Castiels eyes lit up and he smiled. "He's here."
The bathroom door slowly opened and Dean took a deep breath and fired.
The bullet hit the door frame just off to the side of the mans head.
"Whoa! Easy kid!" He held up his hands and crouched down, worriedly casting glances between the gun and Deans terrified face. "It's ok. I'm a friend of Cass's."
"Well so far Cass hasn't really been a great friend so you need to start talking fast buddy."
The man smiled nervously then looked to Cass. "You really know how to make an impression don't you."
"Children are too perceptive. I tried to fit in."
Dean waved the gun at the man and he turned back to him, raising his hands again. "Who are you?"
"I'm… ah.. I'm a friend of your Dads. My names James. …. Yeah… James Hetfield."
Dean screwed up his face. "Like Metalica?"
"Exactly! Right. I get that a lot." James smiled and shot a look at Cass before turning back to Dean. "I'm here to help you and Sam. Cass here, he's a good guy, but a lot of angels are assholes so we need to sort out some protection for you two."
Dean kept the gun trained on James. "If you know my Dad, tell me something about him."
James paused for a moment then smiled and said "When you were about seven, your Dad took you out target shooting. You bulls eyed every bottle. He was real proud of you that day."
He lowered the gun.
"No one but Dad knows that." He glanced at the bed where Sam was hidden. He hadn't even told his brother about that day. It was something secret between him and his Dad.
James let his hands fall slowly to his sides and followed Deans gaze.
"Is Sam under there?"
He nodded "You can come out now."
Sam crawled out from under the bed and stood next to it. Looking from Dean to James, a flash of confusion danced across his face.
Dean didn't seem to notice. "What do we have to do?"
James stepped forwards and patted Dean on the shoulder. "Nothing. Me and Cass have it under control. You guys go sit over there."
Reluctantly, Dean went to his brother and sat on the bed with him, the gun still gripped tightly in his fist.
James turned to Cass and smiled, ruffling the boys hair.
"Damn, you got short."
"That's because my vessel is still only eleven."
"Yeah. I know, I was just…."
"….I took a huge risk using my vessel at such a young age…"
"….. joking…"
"…. I could permanently damage this vessel."
"Ok, ok, I get it. How long do we have?"
"Not long enough. We should get started."
Dean and Sam watched as James took a knife and drew it across his forearm. Cass placed a bowl on the table to catch the blood and then dipped his fingers in it and began to draw on the walls.
"What are you doing!?" Dean yelled as Cass began to paint symbols in James blood.
"It will keep the other angel away. At least for a while."
"Dad's gonna freak." Muttered Sam. "Remember when he yelled at me for using crayon on the wall! I think blood is worse than crayon."
James looked over at Sam and smiled fondly. Wrapping a strip of fabric around his arm he went over to the boys and crouched in front of Sam.
For a moment, he seemed to have trouble talking.
"Hey Sammy. You holding up there?"
Sam nodded but scooted closer to Dean.
"Wow. You're so small. I'd forgotten….. Well. You know…. I bet when you grow up you're taller than Dean. Taller than your daddy even." James stood up. "Dean. Can I talk to you a sec buddy?"
Nodding, he turned to Sam. "I'll be right back ok?"
James swallowed hard, watching Dean take time to comfort his brother, even though he must be terrified himself.
"Uh… What did Cass tell you about all this?"
Dean looked across the room at Cass. His small hands, covered in blood, sweeping blood about the peeling wallpaper like some macabre finger painter. "He said that the angel want to kill me, and Sam. He said that it was because I'm a vessel, like that Jimmy kid." He swallowed hard and looked up at James fearfully. "Is he right? Will I have to be a vessel if I don't die?"
James took Dean by the shoulders and bent down to look him in the eye. "No matter what they say, even Cass, you always have a choice. Can you remember that? Don't you ever let anyone try and convince you otherwise. You and Sam, you'll make up your own minds and you'll be ok." He smiled. "Team free will."
"I don't understand?"
"I know. But you will. One day. I promise."
Dean had never felt so afraid. The danger his Dad had warned him of had seldom invaded his world, the one he and Sam had, moving from one motel to another to some falling down cabin and back again. It was a harsh life sometimes, but the monsters, mostly they had stayed away. Not even his Dad could save them this time.
"You know what. I understand what you go through Dean. I have a little brother too. Major pain in the ass. But there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him." He paused and Dean thought it looked for a moment like James was fighting back tears, but then he smiled and laughed. "You watch out for your brother don't you."
"Yes sir."
"Ha! Yes Sir.. I like that. James is fine though. Now I know for a fact you watch out for your brother more than you watch out for yourself. You've had to be everything to him. Brother, Mom, even his Dad. Yeah, I know John isn't always about, but I want you to know…. I want you to know that I am so proud of you and I think because of you, Sammy's gonna turn out just fine. A pain in your ass, but kid brothers don't ever grow out of that."
Dean smiled slightly.
"Go on back to your brother. This'll be over soon."
James went back to stand with Cass.
He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face.
"I don't think we got here in time." Cass muttered.
James pulled out the angel blade. "Well. Let him come then."
"He is strong. I'm not sure we can do anything for them." Cass glanced over at the brothers.
"Sure we can." James clenched his jaw. "We can give them all we have. They deserve that."
The air in the room seemed to expand and then contract with a fluttter.
"Did you really think a few symbols on the wall would keep me out?"
An angel stood between them and the boys.
"Raguel. What's the meaning of this?" Cass demanded, stepping forwards.
The angel tilted his head and lifted his lip into what might have been a smile if not for his eyes, which remained cold.
"Castiel? You should not be here. And in this vessel? Oh!…. Wait. You are not Castiel from this time are you."
"And you…." The angel turned his baleful gaze on James, who now had the angel blade held up defensively and was trying to inch his way across the room to Sam and Dean. The boy had pushed his brother behind him and despite his stance, his eyes met James's and radiated pure terror. "… You should most certainly not be here."
"Well I am you, junkless douchebag, and I'm not empty handed."
"So I see. Where did you get that? Such a cute toy." Raguel flicked his wrist and sent the blade flying from James's hand. He yelled in pain and grabbed hold of his wrist just before the angel sent him flying back across the room, hitting the wall behind him hard enough to leave a dent in the dry wall. As e fell to the floor he hit his head smartly on the side table.
Sam grabbed at Dean fearfully and whimpered.
"It's ok Sammy. Stay behind me." He whispered.
Raguel called over his shoulder at the boys. "Yes Sammy! Stay right there with your brother while the grown ups talk this through!"
On the other side of the room, James groaned and tried to push himself up.
"Castiel. I don't know why we have to do this. Surely you can't want all that will befall us to happen, do you?"
"If it's the will of God, yes. These boys are to remain untouched."
"The will of God? Where is he Castiel? A blink in heaven and these boys will have unleashed hell. I thought we were meant to stop the apocalypse, not nurture it?" He wandered towards Cass, smiling benevolently. "Your garrison has done well, but it's only an observer. My garrison however, is about to take more direct action."
"You can not harm the vessel of Michael."
"There are other vessels. Others in the same bloodline. Lucifer's needs to be destroyed though. He is powerful enough without it, what he could do in it doesn't bear thinking about."
"You shall not harm either of them."
"Without these boys there will be no apocalypse."
"You don't know that."
"True. Some things are hidden from even me, but I think this would be a good place to start."
Castiel went to Raguel, his eyes fixed up on his pleadingly. "Brother. Walk away from this. It is not Fathers will."
"Father isn't here anymore."
"He'll be back."
"Will he? It's been a while since you were in heaven, dissent and jealousies run rampant. A civil war is looming and these monkeys are the key to the whole thing. I will not allow this to happen."
Raguel stepped over to the window and pulled the curtain from the rail, revealing an Enochian sigil. "I knew you were coming to protect them."
Castiels eyes widened in alarm. "Brother! No!" But it was too late. The angel showed his bloody palm before slapping in it the middle of the sigil.
A blinding flash of light filled the room and with a cry of alarm, Castiel vanished.
As the light faded, Dean fired the gun at the angel.
He staggered and then turned his terrible face towards the boy. "Wait your turn." He snarled before advancing on James.
He crouched in front of him, smiling mockingly at his efforts to regain his senses.
"Aw, come on. You're tougher than that." He took James's face in his hand and turned it towards the boys. "I want you to watch this. I want you to witness the changing of times, the stopping of the rise of Lucifer. And I want you to feel joy in your heart as I do. Think of all the people who will live because I will have rid the world of these two parasites, these Vessels in waiting. No opening of the hells gate. No breaking of the seals. The people they will care for, that you care for, so many of them will live to reach a grand old age because they will have had nothing to do with these abominations."
"Go to hell." James slurred, shaking his head weakly to free himself from the angels grip.
"No. Thank you. I hear its unpleasant. But then….Ahhh, you'd know all about that wouldn't you."
The grogginess in James's head was debilitating, and as Raguel stood and pushed him away, he slumped back to the floor, helplessly.
In a blink, Raguel was stood in front of Dean.
The boy stepped back in alarm, but not quick enough. The angel wrapped a hand around Deans throat and lifted him off his feet.
Across the room, James was slid up the wall by invisible hands, his own grasping at the unseen force at his neck.
"I want you to understand child." Raguel crooned. "I do this out of love." Deans legs kicked furiously at thin air. "Love for my Father and love for his creations. There is no malice in my actions."
"Sammy run!" Croaked Dean, waves of blackness washing over him, his heart pounding in his ears as he fought to get every breath into his lungs.
James kicked feebly at the wall, his eyes bulging. "Dean." He rasped.
Raguel carried the boy by his neck to hold him up, triumphantly, to James.
"I've won. No need to fight. Heaven is beautiful, I promi….."
The angels eyes widened in surprise and he dropped Dean who fell to the floor next to James, both of them coughing and retching.
Raguel turned to face Sam.
The small boy stood with the angel blade in his hand and watched impassively as white fire began to bloom behind the angels eyes.
"What have you done?" He said incredulously, before the fire took over and he fell to the floor with a cry, white light filling the room so they all had to turn away.
For a moment there was silence.
All three of them stared at the body on the floor, the only sound was the ragged breathing from Dean and James.
Sam dropped the blade with a loud clatter, his eyes wide and vacant, his mouth twisted into a grimace of horror at what he'd done.
"Sammy, it's ok." Coughed Dean, struggling to his feet and making his way to his brother.
"It's done then."
Castiel appeared silently behind the boys.
"Glad you could join the party Cass." Rasped James, pulling himself up and getting to his feet shakily.
"It wasn't easy to get back this quickly."
James shook his head and chuckled slightly at the hurt note in the angels voice, then limped over to the boys.
"Hey. You guys ok?"
Dean half smiled at him. "Not really. We're alive though right?"
"Sure are, thanks to Sammy. You're a regular Rambo there kid."
Sam smiled slightly, but it dropped from his face just as quickly and his gaze was still far away. James patted him on the shoulders then turned to Dean.
"You did a hell of a job looking after your brother there."
He frowned and shook his head. "No I didn't. If Sam hadn't ganked that guy…"
"Yeah but he did. Look kid. I learned a long time ago that you gotta stick together with your brother, but he's gonna be looking out for you as much as your are for him. Cut yourself some slack. There's only so much you can do in this world to protect him but you will do all you can, I promise you."
James went to hug Dean, then stopped himself, settling for a squeeze of his shoulders instead. "Go look after your brother. He's shook up."
"What about all this!" Dean gestured at the room, covered in symbols written in James's blood, the dead body in the centre of the room. "Dad's gonna freak! What the hell do I tell him?"
"It's ok. I got this one. You concentrate on your Brother."
Cass was waiting for him, looking down sadly at Raguels vessel.
"I wish it didn't have to be this way."
James shrugged. "Not much else we can do though right? He could have left."
Cass shook his head. "No. No he couldn't."
James crouched down so he was level with Castiel. "Why don't I remember this?" he said quietly. "When you sent me back I thought I'd remember something."
"I fix it."
"Fix it?"
"Look at them."
James turned to look at the boys.
Sam was sat on the bed, Dean next to him, his arm around his shoulders, talking softly.
"Do they look ready for this?"
He blinked away tears and shook his head.
"No." Sniffing and taking a deep breath he shook his head. "No. I wasn't ready."
Dean, older Dean, thought for a moment and then said. "Was Raguel right? About the people who would live if he'd killed me and Sam? About the Hells gate and the apocalypse?"
"If he had succeeded, some might have lived, but fate always finds a way. Our destinies are mapped out but even I can't see it all."
"Come on. You know I don't believe in that destiny crap."
Castiel frowned at him. "Doesn't matter. It happens to you whether you believe in it or not. But.." He turned to face Dean and placed a hand on his cheek. "It's time for you to go now."
"No, Cass. Wait!"
"Where did James go." Asked Dean as Cass came over and sat on the bed opposite them.
"He had to go back. He has a lot of work to do."
"Is he a hunter like Dad?"
"Yes. One of the best."
Dean shot a look at Sam, who was no longer staring into space but had seemed to have curled up on himself, his head bent over staring at his hands which knotted in his lap.
"I didn't want Sammy to know yet. About Dad. About the life. I just wanted him to be a kid, you know?"
Castiel nodded and leant forwards.
"Don't worry. He will be."
Sam looked up at Cass and frowned.
"James has the same kind of eyes as Dean."
"He does?"
"Yeah. When they stood together they looked…." he trailed off and then smiled hopefully at Castiel. "Do you think I'll see him again?"
Cass nodded and placed a hand on their cheeks. "Yes. I promise."
Sammy was sat on the ratty carpet in front of the hulking antique of a TV while Dean channel surfed from the relative comfort of the only armchair in the room.
After going through each channel three times he tossed the remote onto the floor with a snort of disgust.
"Don't bother." He grumbled as Sam picked up the remote to start the process again. "There's nothing on."
Sam stopped and pointed at the program on the screen. "What about this?"
He squinted at the TV. Sam had found some dumb program about Big Foot.
"Seriously? You know it's not real."
"Yeah. I know. Just thought it might be funny."
"Well, whatever. Knock yourself out."
He jumped out of the chair, made his way over to the bed and flopped down on it with a grunt of distaste, rolling his eyes as he watched Sam crawl up onto the chair in his place.
For an seven year old, he sure had some weird ideas about what made for good TV.
The phone rang twice, was silent, and then rang again.
Dean jumped up and snatched the receiver from its cradle.
"Dad?"
"Hi Dean. Everything ok?"
"Yeah fine. Boring but fine."
"I'm finished up here and heading back, should be with you in an hour or so."
"Ok Dad."
"You feeling ok boy? You sound a little hoarse. I'll pick up some orange juice on the way. I doubt you've drunk anything but soda."
"Well… "
"You have to look after yourself Dean. You're no good to anyone if you're laid up with a cold or the flu. I'll see you soon."
"Bye Dad."
The boy stumbled up the steps to his house and weakly rapped on the door.
He was so tired he could hardly raise his hand to knock. Leaning against the door frame he shuddered with exhaustion.
"Jimmy? Oh my God! Jimmy!" His mother opened the door and he half fell through. She caught him and yelled for her husband.
She squeezed him so tight it hurt, but he pushed harder against her, so glad to be home.
His Father raced to them both and pulled them into a fierce embrace. He was sobbing but through his tears he pulled away to call the police, let them know his boy was home, his boy was safe.
"Jimmy. Jimmy. Where have you been!? What have you been doing?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry Mom, I'm sorry. I don't know."
"It doesn't matter, you're home." She wept.
Jimmy clung to his mother, he had no tears of his own to shed.
He knew what had happened. He knew everything.
He remembered and he despaired.