CHAPTER ONE

Lawrence, Kansas

5 years later

"Sam? Sam, honey, we're going to be late." Terra called out to her husband through the bathroom door as she poked a pearl earring through her ear. "You okay in there?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah. I'm…I'm fine." But not really. Not entirely.

"Okay, well, we have to leave in about a half hour. You know how Janice and Robbie get when people are late."

Sam went quiet. The hot water was scalding, reddening his skin, but he didn't feel it. It had been five years and, somehow, he still wasn't used to it. Maybe it was the fact that Dean was actually…

Go on. Say it.

Dead.

Both him and Rachel. And Dean…He wasn't coming back. Not this time. No angel would bring him back, no spells, nothing. And he had tried. Damn it all, he had tried. He knew how to do it, knew what the stakes were. No demon summoning, he knew better than that now, but Death, upon meeting him, refused.

I'm sorry. No can do, Sam. Your brother wanted to stay dead this time.

That was the abridged version, anyway. He'd sent Sam packing, no matter how much Sam had begged and bargained, there was nothing to be done. So Sam had had to watch as they lowered the coffins in the ground. He'd walked away, then. The realization had struck him that his brother was indeed truly gone and he himself had made the choice to stay gone. Had Dean simply given up? That didn't sound like him, nothing about it added up.

He battled these thoughts daily. No matter what, however, none of it trumped the fact that he hadn't even been there in his brother's final moments. No, Sam had just been on the receiving line.

He reached over and turned off the water. He remembered that night well.

He couldn't sleep. Weary eyed Sam looked over at the clock on his nightstand. It was still early in the night, eleven o'clock or so. He turned over. Terra was fast asleep, clutching a pillow close to her. Her mass of auburn curls tumbled about her shoulders. She had taken a bath before bed. From here he could still smell the scent of her body wash, some kind of flower.

This was the second night they'd gone to bed angry. Or, really, her angry at him. He'd breached the subject of taking down the nursery they'd finished up three months prior. The doctors had given them the news, but Terra was still trying, unwilling to just give up. So, of course, when he'd mentioned taking down the nursery, she'd gotten angry, upset. They'd fought for about fifteen minutes before she stormed out the door, keys in tow.

He rolled back over. No point in staying here, he thought. Quietly, he eased himself from the bed and made his way to the kitchen downstairs. Maybe he should call Dean in the morning. He'd gotten better at the whole "woman" thing as the years had passed, his brother. Gotten a tad more sensitive, especially after meeting Rachel. He had no eyes for anyone else but her and had made himself a gung-ho family man, dad and husband of the year.

Maybe I should just go see him instead, Sam thought as he poured himself a glass of water. After all, he hadn't been to visit for about a month, despite the fact the other Winchester family only lived ten minutes away. It would do him some good, he decided. Maybe sit around, have a few beers, shoot the bull for a few hours. Just like old times.

Sam cracked a smile. Yeah. That sounded like a plan, alright. Boy, wouldn't Dean be surprised. Ever since Sam's firm had finally picked up business, he'd gotten less and less free time. Dean never complained, though. They'd call one another, talk for about a half hour, and then go back to their lives. As far as the other one knew, they were happy and content.

Sam settled in front of the television, plopping himself on the sofa. Somehow, he wound up watching some documentary (the details of it he couldn't recall, only that the narrator was practically monotonous).

An hour passed. Midnight.

And, as if on cue, there was a double knock on his door.

Sam felt something jar within him. Although he'd been retired of the business for over three years, things that went bump in the night still startled him. He still found himself reaching for salt, lining the doors and windows with it whenever a light so much as flickered, interfering in whatever strange gossip reached him (though it always came up fruitless). Needless to say, this wasn't any different. Any kind of knock at midnight would surely put anyone on edge. Right?

He reached for the remote and turned off the television. Slowly, he sat the glass down while simultaneously reaching under the couch cushion for the blade he'd stashed there.

Another knock sounded and he rose, quietly, and moved to the door. When he peeked through the peephole, he saw an old, familiar face.

"Cas?" He opened the door. "Cas, what are you doing here?" How are you here? There was no sign of his vehicle anywhere.

Castiel looked worse for wear, eyes red and bloodshot.

Then, "Cas…Why do you have Beth?"

The angel said nothing at first. Sam could see the slight tremor coursing through him, the familiar look of pain in his face.

"Cas. Why. Do you. Have Beth?" He could've shaken him. His expression was so vacant.

"Sam…"

"What?"

"Sam…Dean is dead."

If Castiel had said anything further, Sam didn't hear it. A wave of silence flooded his mind, drowning out everything around him. All he heard were the words "Dean is dead" over and over again. It couldn't be. Something tightened in his chest, constricted his breathing, was breaking his ribcage. His head was pounding, the world swirling, fading. It felt like something had punched him, kicked him, burned him, all at the same time.

"Sam."

When Sam came to, he realized that he was gripping the doorframe, his knuckles white. He was slipping, falling, crashing.

"How?" He managed to say.

"Sam-"

"How, Cas?"

The angel silently replied: "A demon."

Sam had fallen against the door frame, the tears beginning to start. He had learned to hold back everything else. He and his brother had faced death multiple times before, yet…

Dean, he thought. No, he's not dead, he can't be. Just some joke, just some cruel joke. He's not dead, he's not. He's not.

He'd just become a father, a proud one at that. He'd looked at his daughter with such happiness the first time he held her. I'm going to be the best dad to you, he'd told her. I'll teach you everything about cars, we'll eat pie all the time. Just don't tell Mom. He'd smiled. You'll never want for anything. I promise you that, kiddo.

Sam continued to cry, his great shoulders heaving as the injustice of it all overwhelmed him. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare. A demon had taken his brother. Of course it had come for him, it would've come for Sam next. They were the Winchester brothers and they were retired, off their game. Easy targets. That's what they had become.

"I couldn't save him," Castiel said. "He...He had died by the time I'd gotten there. Rachel as well."

Sam said nothing in response as anger began to consume him. He stood straighter, now, fists clenched. "What about the demon?"

"Also dead. Dean seemed to have killed it."

"Good."

The angel moved closer to the younger Winchester. "Listen, Sam, there's something else I need to tell you. It's…very important."

"What?"

Castiel swallowed. "I brought Beth here to you, because she is your goddaughter and you and Terra could give her a chance at a happy life. You are the only family she has left, Sam."

Sam climbed from the shower and grabbed his robe from its hook, slipping it on and tightening the belt. That had been five years ago, when Castiel had handed him Beth and disappeared.

He'd driven to his brother's house, of course, but he didn't make a move to climb from his truck to go in. He hadn't wanted to see what was in there, hadn't wanted to see the sight of his brother…dead...

So he'd just sat there, called 911, and told them that he had found the door open to his brother's house and that it looked like there had been a robbery gone wrong.

A robbery gone wrong. That was the best story he had come up with. He had hated it then, and he hated it now. Dean could've taken any mere robber.

"Uncle Sammy?"

A tiny knock at the door alerted him and he unlocked it, revealing a girl of five already in her pink polka-dotted pajamas. "Hey, kiddo. What can I do for you?"

"Aunt Terra said I could bring this to you." Beth smiled a gap toothed grin and she held up a navy blue tie. "You forgot it on the bed."

"Aw, thanks." He took it from her, smiling, and ruffled her mess of blonde hair. "Want to help me put it on before I go?"

She nodded. Her eyes-Dean's eyes-glimmered with excitement.

"Alright, give me just one sec and I'll be out." He closed the door and he stood there, just for a moment, and listened. He heard her softly slide down the wall next to the door. No doubt when he opened it she would be sitting there, cross-legged, with the most perfect patience he'd ever seen from a five year old.

After he was dressed, he opened the door once again. Sure enough, there she sat, hands in her lap, proper as could be.

"Are you ready?" she asked, scrambling up from the floor.

"Sure am." He got down on his knees in front of her and held out the tie. "Miss Beth, would you do the honors for me?"

Beth giggled and she slipped the tie around his neck.

Sam watched her with admiration as her little fingers moved nimbly. He'd shown her how to tie a tie several times before, even let her practice on him. He didn't know why she loved it so much, but every time he had to get dressed up for some event or some dinner party, or even when he had to go to court, she was always there to put on his tie. She was a fast learner that was for sure. Just like her dad.

Yeah…just like her dad. God. He would be so damn proud of her.

"Uncle Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

She was looking at him. "Why are you sad?"

He felt that same constriction in his chest once again. It seemed to never go away. "What makes you think I'm sad, Bee?"

"You make that same face whenever we go and take flowers to Daddy and Mommy, or when Grandma doesn't answer her phone when you call her. And then you don't say anything for a long time. I asked Aunt Terra why and she said it was because you were sad." Beth put the finishing touches to the tie. "So, why are you sad?"

And, like that, he came up with the most convenient lie he could. Some things never change. "Because…Because I'm not going to be here to read you the next chapter of that book."

A smile came to her face. "Do you think Jo and the professor will fall in love?"

Sam gave a little chuckle. "You're going to have to wait until tomorrow night to find out, I'm afraid."

"I think they will," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "He's better for her than Laurie."

"You think so?"

His niece nodded and then, "Uncle Sammy?"

"Yeah, Bee?"

Without saying anything else, she leaned in and embraced him, her little arms wrapping around his neck. "I love you."

He returned the embrace, bringing her in close, and planted a kiss in her hair. "I love you too, kiddo."

They let go of one another and he stood up, just as he heard the door downstairs open and two voices trail up the stairs.

"Sounds like Zoe's here."

Beth let out a gasp and she took off, then, practically tumbling down the stairs to her babysitter. He followed her to where Terra stood with the seventeen year old. She had dyed her hair again; silver this time. And had it gotten shorter?

"Hey, Mr. W," she greeted, her hands in the pockets of her black jeans. "How are you?"

"Fine, Zoe." He ruffled Beth's hair once again. "Goodnight, Bee. Be good."

"We'll be fine," Zoe said. "Won't we, Beth?"

Beth grinned up at Zoe. "Yep!"

"Alright, well, you two have a good night. We'll be back around eleven, Zoe." Terra picked up her purse and slipped it over her shoulder. "C'mon, Sam. We're going to be late."

The two of them slipped out the door and, once they had taken off in Terra's car, Sam began to wonder why it was he'd wanted to ask Beth if she'd seen the funny man in the trench coat again. He cast his eyes at the house as it slipped from his view.

He'd been popping up more and more, for some reason, Castiel did. What Sam couldn't figure out was why the angel had fixated himself on keeping Beth entertained each and every day. To her Castiel was nothing more than an imaginary friend; some to call upon whenever she needed him. Sam had had to play dumb once, when he'd walked into her room one afternoon and, by pure surprise, found Cas sitting at Beth's little play table, a plastic saucer and cup in his hands and a glittery tiara on his head. He had to pretend he didn't see him, had to keep the laughter bottled down.

"Would you like more tea, Miss Juniper?"

"Yes."

"Yes…?"

Castiel cleared his throat. "Yes, please, Miss Mayzie."

Beth laughed as she poured his "tea". "Puppy, you're so silly."

Puppy. That was her name for him. Because of his eyes, she'd told Sam when he asked her about her new friend. They reminded her of a puppy's eyes, gentle and sad.

Over time, Sam had seen Castiel here and there, pushing Beth on the swing, handing her flowers as she made her crowns and necklaces. He was even in her latest production of Theodore the Elephant Saves Marble the Lamb from the Wicked Witch of the West. Puppy was always Theodore the Elephant, mainly because she said he made the best elephant noises she'd ever heard.

A lump formed in his throat, and the oh so familiar dark cloud came floating overhead. This shouldn't even be happening, he thought.

Dean should be the one doing all of this for her. He should be the one sitting with his daughter, wearing a tiara and asking for more tea in a fake British accent. He should be the one playing Theodore the Elephant because he can make the best elephant noises. He should be the one here, not Sam. Why Dean, he thought. Why couldn't it have been me instead? Dean had had so much more to live for than he did…

He leaned back in the seat as Terra flipped on the left turning signal.

It should've been me, he thought. This should've been his life. Not mine.

This story should've never been written.

Back at the house

"Alright, Bee, time for bed."

Zoe ran a hand over her silver hair as she watched the five year old climb into the bed, settling in and pulling the covers up to her chin. She was the easiest kid she'd ever babysat, that was for damn sure. Why couldn't all kids do this?

"You want me to leave the light on?"

Beth's eyes darted to the lamp. She swallowed and then turned to Zoe. "Can we leave it on?"

"Sure thing, Bee." She walked over to the toy chest and plucked Beth's stuffed elephant from the top. "Want Theodore?"

Beth nodded and Zoe handed him to her.

"G'night, kid." Zoe patted the child's head and walked out the door, leaving a slight crack as she closed it. She'd been the kid's babysitter since she was three and never had a problem with her. She'd often wondered if it was because she was an orphan, being raised by her aunt and uncle, never really knowing her parents. It was sad, yeah, but Beth seemed happy. She even had an imaginary friend that she called Puppy. Zoe had never seen him, but apparently he was really funny and knew cool magic tricks.

As Zoe walked down the stairs, she stopped. She stood there, quietly, the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs the only noise in the whole house. What was she listening for? Why the hell was it so quiet? She shrugged. Maybe it was just her imagination. Still, the Winchester's lamps had never flickered before, not in the time she'd been here.

Zoe watched lamp light flicker. One. Two. Three…Four.

Just four.

Beth pulled the covers up higher. Usually the lamp flickered five times before stopping. She had wanted to be a big girl and not have the light at all, but it was what kept the thing in her closet from coming out. He liked the nighttime. She'd never seen him before, since she was always asleep whenever Uncle Sammy or Aunt Terra came in and turned out the light.

But she knew he was there lurking in her closet. She heard him sometimes. He said bad words, cackled like the Wicked Witch. Once he had even dared to go as far as open her closet door a little. She had seen his fingers, dark and grimy. His nails were long, pointy, and filthy. She had pulled the covers over her head that night and forced herself to go to sleep.

She hadn't told Uncle Sammy about the thing. She didn't like to worry him or make him sad. But she was scared. What if the monster got brave and came out of the closet anyways, not just his hand, but all the way, even if her light was on? The thought terrified her and she sunk further into the bed, shaking.

"Puppy?" she whispered. "Puppy are you there?"

It was all quiet for a moment and then she heard a voice along with a weight close to her feet.

"Hello, Bee."

Beth sat up and saw Puppy sitting cross-legged at the foot of her bed. She let out a squeal of excitement and crawled towards him. "Puppy, you're here!" She threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you came."

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Beth sat back and grinned at him. "Look! I lost another tooth!" She pointed at the new gap on the top row of her teeth.

Castiel gave her a small smile. "So you did."

"And you know what else?"

"What?"

"The tooth fairy gave me a quarter!" Her eyebrows suddenly furled together. "Puppy, why are you wet?" Her tiny hand patted the sleeve of his coat.

"Oh. That." Castiel cleared his throat. "It was raining."

"Raining? In the Cloud Kingdom?"

"Um…yes?"

"But how can it rain if you're on the clouds?"

"There are clouds above us." He answered, trying to make it sound matter of fact.

Beth cocked her head to the side and then nodded. "I guess that makes sense." She didn't say anything else after that and began pulling one of Theodore's ears.

"Bee? Is something wrong?"

Beth frowned. "Puppy…Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course, Bee."

Beth tugged Theodore's ears more. "I think there's a bad man in my closet."

Castiel froze as she said this. "A bad man?"

She nodded.

"In your closet?"

She nodded again.

"I see."

He turned, slowly rose from the bed and walked towards the closet. "Bee," he said. "Can you be brave for me?"

Beth hugged Theodore close to her, but didn't reply.

"Bee, I'm going to count to three. And then I want you to be brave, turn out the light, and hide under the covers."

"Hide under the covers?" That didn't sound very brave at all.

"Yes. And whatever you hear, you cannot peak, understand? It's like a game."

Beth slowly climbed back under the covers and leaned over to her lamp, her fingers poised to turn it off. She could feel herself trembling. "Puppy, I'm scared."

Castiel turned his head to her and smiled. "Don't be," he said. "I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. Now," he placed his hand on the handle of the closet and turned back to face it. "Are you ready?"

"Y-Yes," she stammered. She had to be brave. For Puppy.

"Okay. Remember. On the count of three. One…Two…"

He then thrust the door open wide.

"Three."