Rebirth – chpt 2.

By: sifi.

OOooOO

Crowhawk's trailer, Arizona. 3:33 a.m.

A stab ran through the side of his head, from his left temple downward into the right underside of his jaw. Half of his face went numb as the muscles clenched then let go. He didn't feel the strand of saliva that slid down his now partially opened mouth. He was too occupied trying to fight fire that burned through his whole right side while he reached for the phone with his left.

Somehow, he managed to get to his feet and dial 911 before a series of explosions in Technicolor burst through his brain and he fell to the floor.

OOooOO

On The Road.

Dean couldn't see straight anymore. He knew part of him was running from the last few days but if he didn't give in and stop now exhaustion could hurt not just him and Sam, but someone else too.

The next motel listed on the highway marker was a low rent chain. Not their usual 'nowhere'sville' motel, but barely the next step up.

He pulled up, got him and Sam a room then parked in front of it next to a gold four door sedan that looked conspicuously familiar.

"Nah." He shook his head while peering into the front seat. "No friggin way!" he whispered grinning.

"Yes friggin' way." She countered from the room beside the one he'd been given.

His world went sparkly for a moment before he lurched between the cars, grasping her up into his arms and swinging her around smiling luminously.

His smile took possession of hers until hers took possession of his. Neither of them knew how long they leaned against the car savoring each other.

"My god I missed you! Don't ever go away that long again. Don't ever go away again." He whispered headily. His lips brushed hers, then mumbled their way down her neck. Her hands slid through his hair, grasping his neck and sending shivers through him and playing just a few of his happy spots. "Where've you been? Where've you been? Why'd you have to be away so long? Can you forgive me?" he murmured as if drunk.

"I'm sorry," she breathed with a smile and held his head away from her, "And what is there to forgive?" her hand slid down his front, a knowing smile on her face as she gave him the lightest stroke just below the belt line, "did you give this to someone else again?"

"No." he shook his head, "I made a promise."

"So what's to forgive?" she asked.

"I lied." He motioned to the back seat, "It was a betrayal, but I didn't know…" he shook his head and calmed his breathing, "I couldn't. Sam's hurting." He stopped and examined her open expression, "Do you know what happened?" he asked.

"Let's get settled inside and you can tell me."

Together they wrangled the lanky young man into the room where they stripped his jacket off, and his shoes then tucked him snugly into bed while they sat up, watching, just in case he awoke in despair.

Dean didn't have to say anything, both he and Laura were thinking the same thing. A time not so long ago in spite of the lifetimes they seem to have lived between, when Sam had nearly swallowed the muzzle of his .45. If Laura hadn't awoken when she did and stopped him, he might have missed all the times that allowed him to come to know his brother as a man in his own right. All of it in spite of the agonies they'd suffered and seen each other through.

"How much have you remembered?" Dean asked wondering where and how she could have gotten her memories back after their encounter with the Ifrit.

They were nestled in the other bed, Dean with his back to the wall and Laura leaning gently against him, seated between his legs. His hand slid through her hair, combing it absently with his fingers. Occasionally he'd slip the silky curtain aside and lay his lips to her neck, but for the last few hours, his gaze hadn't drifted more than a few feet from Sam.

"Everything." She nodded grateful he couldn't see the wry smile on her mouth, he'd have too many questions.

"Really?" he asked gently turning her head to look into her eyes. "How?"

"I think just… getting out there and hunting started it. Then it was like a cascade and I remembered everything."

"Why did you stay away so long?" he asked sounding faintly hurt, "I haven't seen you since out little rendezvous in Summerville last month while Sam was in the hall of records."

"You and Sam have a mission. Someone has to stop Lucifer and if the cherub's God won't step up to the plate it's going to have to be the ones that came before, you two are the only other beings who can do it. You know that."

"You're not a distraction." Behind her, his body tensed, his legs and arms clamped around her and he wanted to pull her into him, "When you're with me I feel closer to," he paused wondering again at the possibility of destiny, his mind filled with an image of the four tablets, "who I really am than any other time."

He sighed into her. His hands roamed over her, "Sam's supposed to serve as his vessel and I'm supposed to let Michael turn me into a fucking vegetable IF I'm lucky. We thought Neil was supposed to be the vessel, we thought that's why Lilith," his voice cut off. He still couldn't bear to utter the word. "hurt Sam."

"Have you ever seen the movie Constantine?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Maybe the baby was supposed to be a vessel for Lucifer's own son." She suggested and felt him stiffen behind her. "Maybe he wanted his family to be able to walk the earth with him."

"Oh my god." He breathed into her ear as a sweat broke out over him and a shiver danced up his spine. "Oh no."

In his arms, she turned to face him, wrapping her legs around his hips. His hands lay on her thighs radiating warmth through her jeans. "But that's just a movie." He shook his head.

"Some of the lore was based on apocryphal texts," she started.

Dean shook his head, "Apocryphal?"

"Other texts that weren't included in the bible."

His eyes opened wide and he shook his head. His hands clenched onto her to keep from shaking.

He leaned forward, until their foreheads rested together, "I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him." He barely even whispered. "Sam doesn't know. He thinks…" the shivers finally cut off his voice.

Her hands closed gently on his soft stubble, "I know."

"You don't understand. We had it all set, that lady you sent me to see for the herb? I went and saw her and it dawned on me that I just couldn't kill him, anymore than I could've killed Sam when dad told me I might have to. It just… wasn't…" his breath trembled.

She pressed her mouth to his and held their chests together until their hearts beat in time. "I know love, I know what you did. And I think it was the right thing."

"You do?" he asked.

"I do. More tragedy has been written in human history because of half understood or misinterpreted prophecies, or simply the inability of the human mind to consider implications that aren't immediate. Killing the boy would have been an act of fear, keeping him alive was an act of faith."

"Bobby says faith isn't my strong point."

"Then he's blind as well as broken." She shook her head, "Faith is everything you are. Faith in your mother, in John, in Sam to not fall, faith is your very heart. The only person you're afraid to put faith in is yourself and that's okay for now. You'll see you're deserving of it when the time comes."

"What do you know?" he asked suspiciously.

"I know you." She seemed to glow as she pressed them together taking him sweetly captive.

In the bed opposite them Sam's drowsy gaze wandered away from the couple and he wondered if he'd heard right or if it was all just a wishful dream.

He didn't feel like he was going to have a hangover, he didn't even taste the telltale sour of whiskey-acid in the back of his throat and had a feeling Dean had given him sidhe sleep draught instead of the liquor he craved after watching the baby burn.

A moan slid out of him and he curled onto his side, his movement breaking Dean and Laura apart. Sorry guys, he thought hazily as they curled onto their sides, cradled together and watching over him.

OOooOO

Singer's Auto Salvage. 9:30 a.m.

"Are you shittin' me?" Bobby asked then shook his head, "How the hell did it happen?" He listened shaking his head and didn't have to look too hard to find supernatural connections. "Yeah alright. Thanks for letting me know. You bet your ass I'll be prayin'."

OOooOO

"Son of a bitch!" Dean grumbled into Laura's mouth.

He grabbed his cell and she grabbed his butt catching a handful of firm packed jeans as he smiled.

"This better be good." He snarled listening to the familiar sound of Sam showering and glad he'd remembered to take the razors and the electric shaver out to the car. Sam could shave later while Dean made sure he wasn't going to slit his wrists, strangle himself with the cord or drop the damned thing in the shower and electrocute himself.

"Hey Bobby." He listened for a second, frowning, "No way! What? When? No, he was fine when we left him. What'd the doctors say? A coma? Are you shittin' me?" he groaned as the memory of a line of blood running down Crowhawk's face last night while in Sam's irate deific grip came to him. "Crowhawk's in a fucking coma, who the hell is reading him?" he heard in the back of his brain. "How many?" he asked then gasped, "Holy shit how the hell does someone survive that?" He listened then nodded, "Yeah, everything went like clockwork. I mean Sam had a minor freakout but by then it was too late, the baby was already gone. Yeah, and he was fine when we left. Yeah, hey keep us updated willya? Thanks." He closed his phone and sat on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his stubble.

"What's up?"

"Crowhawk had a series of strokes last night, they said four mini's followed up by two full-on ones. He's in a coma."

"It's surprising he's alive. What happened?" she asked just as the shower shut off and the sound of the curtain being thrown screeched into the main room.

"Sam had a moment… he kinda went a little Marduk on piss'dosity y'know?"

"You think he did it?"

Dean nodded, "The old man got a nosebleed and he was lookin' a little like Mr. Migraine came calling." he looked at her, "But he wasn't himself, he tried to rescue the little guy from the fire and we stopped him, we were holding him back."

"Good thing."

"I have to tell Sam."

"Tell me what?" the young hunter asked emerging from the bathroom swathed in a towel.

"To…tell you about Tom, Crowhawk." Dean stammered.

Sam stopped digging in his bag and turned to his big brother, "What happened?"

"He has a series of strokes last night. He's in the hospital."

"What? Is he okay? I mean is he going to be?"

Dean shook his head, "They can't say."

"What do you mean 'they can't say'? How bad is he?"

"He's in a coma."

Sam sat on the bed, his dream from the day before yesterday came crashing down around him, he still couldn't tell if it was a dream or a vision, but he didn't like this particular turn of events at all, "Crowhawk's in a fucking coma, who the hell is reading him?" he heard in his head. Course if it was a vision then that would mean that Neil was alive. He thought and looked up at Dean, but couldn't voice the question.

He could feel her breath hot on the side of his face as she leaned over his mangled body triumphantly, "You have fathered the murderer of the world…"

He felt his mouth move, but no sound came out and he wondered if he was ready to know the truth. Which would be worse? His own flesh and blood burned to ash on a tiny funeral pyre or his son alive somewhere and learning how to murder the world.

"Oh man." He slumped.

Dean nodded, "Look, he could still come out of it on his own, or…" he stalled.

"Die." Sam grunted.

"Yeah."

"Or he could have his brains completely exploded in about seven years." Sam muttered watching his brother's face intently.

"That's only one possibility Sam."

"Do you have any idea what the hell I'm talking about?" Sam asked.

Smirking faintly Dean looked up and met his little brother's eyes. "I know exactly what you're talking about."

Frustrated indignation drew the youngest Winchester tightly together as he looked at the older man, "Really?"

"Sunny day, playing ball with your seven year old boy. You throw a classic knuckle ball and it sails into his glove like it's magnetized…" he paused watching Sam's jaw drop open and his expression relax almost in wonder, "It's a picture perfect father/son moment till his eyes glow deep… you send him to get a go bag, I pull up, he screams for you…"

"How the hell can you know that Dean? I never told you about that, how do you know!?" Sam demanded. There was no heat of anger in his words just fear and curiosity vying for space. "You were out getting supplies and running errands."

"I know."

"Then how?"

"I'm thinking it started with Pipeline. We were both dosed with it. I knew everything she did to you Sam." His voice dropped low and his gaze went back to the pain the first succubus unleashed on his brother, "I felt everything she did, like I was trapped in your body, only of course I wasn't."

Horror washed over the young hunter's face. It was bad enough Dean knew the facts of what she'd done, but to learn seven months later that he'd experienced it too just tore deep into his heart and made his everything shrink in shame.

"Even before then things were getting strange, you know that as well as I do. It's been building for the last few years, ever since the Turnbull case, the first exposure to Enki and Marduk and Tiamat… I think Pipeline just broke down the last of the walls."

Sam shook his head, "But I can't feel you."

"'Course you can. But I think you're more of a natural at keeping yourself to yourself. You've been psychic for a long time, it's probably a reflex."

A shiver shot through Sam while he sat pondering this new development in their lives. He slipped his shirt on, then drew his shorts and jeans on up under the towel.

"Does that mean…" my son's alive? Did you save him? What did you do Dean? Do I want to know? SHOULD I know? He shook his head. I can't, not right now. He decided.

"Is there coffee left?" he asked.

Laura hopped out of bed and poured him a cup.

"Thanks." He nodded and leaned in, taking a bit of comfort when she caressed his cheek and pressed her lips to his temple.

"You gave me sleep draught last night instead of whiskey." He said.

Dean nodded. "I'da had to take you in to get your stomach pumped if you'd started on Jack."

"Probably." Sam admitted, "Thanks."

After several moments of silence Sam finished draining the coffee then looked Dean deep in the eyes, "So… as Buffy would ask, 'where do we go from here?'"

Dean huffed a smile, "That was an awesome ep! Mmm SMG…" he sighed leaning back as Laura bent down, kissing him upside down. "MMmm sing for me?" he smiled.

"Later." She promised looking up as a trio of tiny knocks sounded.

Sam shook his head smiling faintly and rose.

At the peep hole his smile grew wide and tremulous as he opened the door, letting Kitsune into the room and taking her tightly into his embrace.

Salty tears found their joined lips while the door swung closed behind her.

OOooOO

Tbc.

Please R&R.

Thanks. Sifi.