Sam heard Dean before he saw him. At first it didn't register what Dean was saying, the words lost under the relief that Dean was alive and talking.

"Sammy? No, too easy."

Thank God. Sam thought. He's not dead, I was wrong.

It wasn't until Sam called Dean's name and Dean turned to look at him with tar black eyes that Sam registered what Dean had said.

"See?" Dean turned back to Crowley. "Just existing will torment Sammy. I've got scores to settle in Hell before dealing with such low hanging fruit as Sam."

Crowley watched Sam, poorly concealed disappointment souring his gaze. Dean disappeared. Crowley threw Sam a shit-eating grin and followed.

xXx

Sam walked up the concrete walkway to an inordinately ordinary middle class home. The walls were white. The lawn was manicured, the trees all shaped with nary a stray stick in sight. The flowers, neatly planted in front of the porch, were all in bloom. There were no shutters, but if there had been they'd have been blue. Or possibly green, like something out of Anne of Green Gables.

There was absolutely nothing out of place. It made the hair on the back of Sam's neck stand up.

The first hint that all wasn't as banal as it appeared was the demon trap in the doorway. Only half of it was visible from outside, the remainder extended into the small foyer. It was made of white jade inlaid in the worn wooden planks of the porch. The uninitiated would just think it some quirky design the builder used to give the place personality. Sam knew better.

The protections didn't stop at the doorway. The strange, murky white windowsills were a salt composite with a hidden strip of iron to keep out ghosts, demons, and other supernatural monsters. There were sigils and wardings worked into interior decorating. The list went on, the product of years of brainstorming and careful testing.

Sam rang the bell, but it was one of those ones that couldn't be heard from the entryway, so Sam wasn't sure it had actually worked. When there was no response, he knocked. It was a big house, so he knocked loudly. Besides which, he was impatient.

Sam had spent months trying to track down Dean. But Dean didn't want to be found and now that he was a demon, he didn't just have the mortal realm to hide in. If their conversation after Dean came back from the dead were any indication, he had all of Hell open to him as well. Sam hadn't found a summoning spell that worked on Dean, and Crowley must have found a way to block his, because when Sam summoned him, nothing happened. Hunting down other demons had produced less than satisfactory results – wild goose chases and leads that turned to dust.

So here he was, intruding on the safe haven of a hunter he hadn't seen in nearly a year. But this hunter focused almost exclusively on demons. If there was any new information he hadn't been able to dig up, it would be here. If the woman would have just answered her phone he wouldn't have had to show up unannounced or waste his time driving out to see her.

He knocked again and called out, "C'mon, Vic. I know you're in there." He hoped she was in there. For all he knew she was out buying groceries. "Vic?" Sam knocked again. At this point, other people probably would have called it banging.

He heard a window open above him.

"Keep it down, Winchester. You get any louder and the neighbors'll call the cops."

Sam came off the porch and looked up at her. She had her elbows on the sill and all he could see was her head. Her cheeks were rounder than he remembered. Her skin held the same healthy tan as always from hours out in the sun.

"I need your help," he said.

"I'm on hiatus," she called back. "Let's call it a vacation. Or staycation if you will. Go get Dean. Or that angel that follows you guys around."

"Cas," Sam corrected. He looked over his shoulder at the other disturbingly normal homes. There was no one visible, but talking of angels and demons wasn't the kind of conversation he felt comfortable having in the middle of the yard, yelling up to a second story window. You never knew when the neighborhood busybody was watching you from behind some curtain.

"I know," Victoria replied dryly. "He lived here for a while when he was mortal, remember?"

When Sam turned his attention back to her, she looked exasperated and annoyed. He hadn't expected her to roll out the red carpet when he showed up on her doorstep, but he thought she'd open the door at the very least. If they were going to have any semblance of a real conversation, he needed to get invited into the house. "Dean is the problem," he said.

Even standing on the front lawn Sam could see the color drain from her face. Hunters didn't get into the life without knowing the life expectancy attached to their profession. But her voice was matter of fact. "Dead?"

"Technically, yes," Sam hedged with another quick look at the neighboring houses. Sam was done with it. All of it. Demon possessions, angel possessions, ghosts, ghouls, monsters. Heaven, Hell. He was getting his brother back and nothing was going to stop him. "But not exactly."

Victoria rolled her eyes, color creeping back to normal. "Of course," she muttered. "A Winchester can't simply die. He has to complicate even that." She disappeared back into the house and shut the window. Sam wasn't sure if that was the end of the interview or if she was coming down to let him in, so he walked back up the porch steps and waited.

The door cracked open. Victoria peered out at him, the security chain stretched across the opening. "What do you mean 'not exactly'? And why do you need me?"

"C'mon, Vic. Let me in."

She sighed. It was a very irritated sound and she obviously wanted Sam to hear it. "When we fix whatever is wrong with Dean, what you see here stays here. Understand? Dean is to know nothing about me."

Sam nodded hastily. He couldn't think of a single reason Dean would want an update on Victoria other than if she had info for a job they were on or if she were available for a roll in the sack. The door swung shut and the chain rattled.

Sam was through the door as fast as it swiveled on its hinges. Just as he crossed the threshold a dog lunged at him from the interior of the house, barking madly. Sam scrambled backwards, frantically pawing for his gun as jaws snapped shut where his shins had been.

"Stand down," Victoria snapped. The brilliantly white monster of muscle and teeth stopped barking and sat as Victoria stepped around from behind the door.

"What is that?" Sam asked, heart pounding in his chest, gun trained on the growling animal.

"Mundane protection," Victoria answered.

He was really starting to hate that dry tone of voice. Like she was stating the obvious and thought he was asking just to annoy her. She'd never used it before.

"Quiet," she told the dog. "Friend." The dog stopped growling. "Put that away," she added to Sam. He glanced from the dog to her. No way he was taking his eyes from that vicious animal for more than a moment. But his gaze caught on Victoria. She was pregnant.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I thought you wanted to come in."

"Right." Sam looked back to the dog, who was eyeing him suspiciously, like Sam was the threat here. He edged in, keeping as much space between him and the dog as possible and tucking the gun back into his waist band.

The pregnancy would explain why she was acting strange. She and Dean usually hooked up when they worked a job together. Must be awkward to have your lover's brother show up when there was a new man in the picture. A man she was having kids with.

The front door opened into a small foyer with a staircase, which someone was descending. A small woman with lank hair that was more sandy than blond came into view. She looked familiar but Sam couldn't quite place her. Whatever reason he knew her was apparently not good because when she saw him her expression turned decidedly hostile. She stopped on the stairs, every muscle tense.

"Vic?" she asked. Her eyes flicked to Victoria. It was as if she were looking for direction, or a command.

"It's alright, Kate. This is Sam," Victoria replied.

"I know." Kate shot him another angry look. Unless Sam was mistaken, there was also pain and fear buried under all that anger. "I was hoping I wouldn't see him again."

"You knew when you came that his brother was the father."

Sam's stomach dropped out. His brother was the father.

"Neither of whom we were expecting to see," Kate added. Despite his churning thoughts, Sam's brain continued to feed him information. The two women had known each other a while now. The argument had that established quality that only developed with close contact. "Isn't that why I'm here?" Sam'd had that kind of relationship with his close friends at college and more recently with hunters he trusted his life to.

"The father?" Sam croaked. He knew there was a stupid look on his face, but he was having trouble wiping it off.

Victoria turned her attention back to him. He saw a flicker of pity when she took in his dumbfounded expression. "Who is apparently technically dead."

"Dean?" he clarified, still not able to wrap his brain around it. Dean never wanted kids. Went to extreme lengths to avoid conception. He did everything. Everything except celibacy that is. Which would probably look like a pretty good option once he found out this.

Assuming Dean was himself when he found out.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "No, Santa Claus."

Sam wasn't sure he liked super-sarcastic Victoria. "Since when?" He winced. It was pretty obvious when, probably around eight months ago.

"Since that time Dean and I shacked up at the Bunker and made you uncomfortable all weekend. Where is he?"

Sam looked to Kate. Her face was set and she offered no clues. He wasn't sure what else he could say, so he answered. "Hell."

She scrubbed her hand across her forehead. "Well, since the two of you tend to end up in Heaven when you're not making deals or jumping bodily into the Pit, what deal did he make this time?"

Sam's eyes drifted to her abdomen. "It's a long story, maybe we should sit."

"Five minutes and you're already fussing," she grumbled. "This is exactly why I didn't tell either of you." But she led him deeper into the house, a hand pressed to her back.

xXx

Sam and Victoria were settled in the office. There were books spread out on the desk in front of Sam and the coffee table where Victoria had her feet propped up.

Sam was impressed with her collection of reference material. It was better than Bobby's had been. Bobby'd had years and a long, storied career in which to amass his collection, but Victoria had the same kind of academic leaning as Sam. She also had the money to fund that particular leaning.

"You headed back to the Bunker soon for that list of books we want?" she asked.

Victoria had a good collection, but nowhere near as good as the Bunker. "Unless you've found something in the last batch, then yeah."

"I got nothing." Victoria dropped her head against the back of the couch. She raised a hand to her forehead and massaged her temples. "We've looked at so many books I feel like I'm going cross-eyed."

Sam grunted agreement.

"You know what we need?" Victoria dropped her hand and rolled her head to catch Sam from the corner of her eye. "Someone with an eidetic memory."

Sam finished the paragraph he was skimming then gave her his full attention. "A what?"

"Eidetic. A photographic memory. Then we'd only ever need to read these things once and it would all be stored up here." She tapped her temple and smiled.

Sam grinned tiredly back at her. He'd tried talking her into going to the Bunker with him when he found out she was carrying the next generation of Winchester, reasoning that it was the safest place for her. Victoria refused. She had the house set up the way she liked. Neither angels nor demons nor ghosts could get in. She had Misty the dog for mundane protection and Kate the werewolf for supernatural protection.

His options had been to either bodily remove her, which, assuming he could even physically overcome her, was a non-option with Kate added to the picture, or he could leave her there. His conscience wouldn't let him abandon Dean's child to its fate. Not when every evil thing they'd ever known about had an ax to grind with the Winchesters. Then of course there were the angels. They didn't exactly count as evil, but their hostility increased with every interaction. So he stayed.

It was turning out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Victoria did indeed know a few things Sam didn't and she had an extensive network of hunters working for her under the pretense of an insurance adjusting firm. Now when Sam had a lead, Victoria made a phone call and they had an answer within a few hours. He didn't have to spend days on the road only to find a dead end. Unfortunately, all that added up to were more options ruled out instead of answers.

He and Kate had moved around each other warily at first, like two alpha dogs claiming the same territory. Kate continued to keep the promise she made him and Dean nearly two years ago and only fed on animals. So they kept the peace.

Sam removed Victoria's address from the public record. He needed to find Dean, but didn't want to risk the demon finding the baby of the man. He had killed the monster spawn that claimed to be Dean's child several years ago, but Sam remembered how it tore Dean up inside. When Dean came back to himself, he'd never forgive Sam if he didn't do everything in his power to protect this child. There was only so much Sam could do about non-public records, Victoria had a business to run and had to get paid.

Victoria spread the word among her network that her location was to remain private. At Sam's insistence, she added that Dean knew how to contact her and anyone claiming to be Dean was not what it appeared. The hunters, being familiar with shifters, ghouls and other imitators, didn't question it.

Sam and Victoria quickly settled into a retinue. She spent time running her business every day, then joined Sam in the search through musty old books and records for answers on how to fix Dean. Kate helped with the business and ran errands. She was the only one they could guarantee wasn't being looked for by their enemies.

They'd been at it for nearly two week. Sam was pretty sure he could reverse the demon part of Dean's predicament with the same cure he'd used on Crowley, but they still had no idea how, or if, that would effect the Mark of Cain. What they really needed was to find the original Cain and ask some questions.

When Dean and Crowley visited Cain, Sam and Castiel were trying to track down Ezekiel. Dean hadn't told Sam how they'd found the man, only that he was at some farm with bees. Through extensive leg work on Sam's part, and a minor miracle, he'd managed to track down the farm. But Cain was no longer there. So they searched for the method Dean and Crowley had used to locate Cain in the first place.

It wasn't going well.

"If we could just bring him back from Hell," Sam started for the hundredth time.

Victoria snorted. "And do what? Turn a kill happy Winchester loose on the population? Let him bother the denizens of Hell while we figure out the Mark." She dropped her book on the coffee table with a thunk. "I can't see straight, I'm done with this for the night," she declared. She struggled to her feet, using her arms to push herself off the couch.

He listened to her shuffle around the kitchen as he continued skimming the book. The popcorn maker whirled to life and soon he could hear the popcorn popping, the smell wafting in soon after. Sam read the same page three times without taking in the meaning before knuckling his eyes and deciding Victoria had the right idea. He'd make more progress if he took a short break and came back with a fresh mind.

He found her sprawled on the couch in the living room. She scrolled through Netflix before settling on The Walking Dead. She lifted her legs to make room for Sam. He settled on the opposite side of the couch. She extended her legs back out and into his lap.

He searched for an appropriate place for his hands, not quite sure what the correct protocol was for physical contact with the soon-to-be mother of his brother's child. He quickly abandoned that line of thinking as useless and settled his hands on her feet. She was always complaining how much they hurt.

Victoria let out something between a grunt and a moan as his fingers pressed into the muscles of her feet. A quick glance to see if he'd hurt her showed her face slack and her eyes shut. "Don't stop," she mumbled.

Sam quickly repressed his smile. At least he was useful to somebody.

They made it through several episodes before they started throwing popcorn at the screen and booing at the characters' lack of survival skills. The ribbing had started almost immediately though.

"He should look for guns first," Sam said as Rick headed for his house.

"He doesn't know what's going on," Victoria pointed out. "Give him a second to catch up with the zombie aspect."

Once the popcorn was flying though, they degenerated into a debate on the best way to kill The Walking Dead zombies.

"Guns obviously," Sam said.

"The show says they ran out of bullets. Don't forget your lore," Victoria teased.

Sam tossed his head, sweeping a stray lock behind his ear. "So make more. It's not like it's impossible. People have been making bullets for over a hundred years."

"Still too slow, especially with the mobs," Victoria argued. "I say use the Native American buffalo hunting technique and run them off a cliff. That should slow them down enough for an easy kill at the bottom."

"They're pretty slow to start with," Sam protested. Then he couldn't help but wonder how Dean would do it.

Victoria threw more popcorn at the screen. "Didn't you learn the value of stripping cars in the last episode? Man up." When Sam remained silent she cast a quick look his way. Apparently his mood was written all over his face. "What's wrong?"

He flashed her a lopsided grin and shook his head. Nothing, but what came out was "Dean would love an argument like this." He tucked his hair behind his ear again. There wasn't a reason to do it this time, it just gave him something to do.

Victoria sat up. Her movements were no longer powerfully graceful the way they'd been before she'd gotten pregnant. Her center of balance had shifted and she was having trouble adjusting.

"We'll get him back," Victoria said.

Sam nodded, but kept his eyes on his hands.

Victoria's hand slid into his field of view and covered one of his hands. He looked up and met her eye. "We will." There was no room for doubt in her voice.

They flipped off the TV and went back to their research.