Impala:
I should be used to driving to fuck-knows-where; but I'm not used to driving to fuck-knows-where in the Impala without Dean—only if Dean is dead, or if I think Dean is dead. I'm an asshole of a brother, but right now Dean has me beat. I'm hungry, at least I've moved on from the donuts – mostly – roast-beef sandwich sounds good; but for a sandwich I need money, and for money, since I left without cards, and I'm nearly out of cash, I'm going to need a scam. I can't just walk into a bar a drink a couple of shots and a beer, and I can't run a pool scam and look like I'm not drinking. Great.
Bat-cave, Basement:
"Crowley?" He looks up from the stack of books—Cas is searching through the archives, and dumping what he can in-front of Crowley. I'm busy figuring the details of the computer system—details which Crowley claims he doesn't have. I'm checking in with Crowley to see if he actually is doing anything. "Hey," I ruffle what on Crowley passes for hair—he hates that, "King of Hell, got anything?". Crowley scowls at the document, not even bothering to look up at me; the feeling is mutual, I wish I could finish him—other than I can't shake the feeling that Sammy told him something, and I need to find that out that thing.
"Dean?"
Crowley never calls me by name, and he never looks sad; he catches me off guard.
"There's nothing here that says anything about," he pauses, for a demon he certainly caught a bad case of moralism, "about what you want to do to Sam. What your pet former Angel is giving me to read are copies of texts that, at best, are several hundred years past being originally written, and been through dozens of translations. And, in case you don't recall, Squirrel, translations can be absolutely wrong; even if there was some kinder-gentler way to rip Sammy open at home, and this is the only place we can take a stand against Angels, we may not find it—and it doesn't help if he's not here. Unless you back-off on killing His Baby, Sam's never coming home, dead or alive, he's never coming home."
"Sammy? His name is Sam."
Crowley looks as if he won this round, and he hasn't look up from the text, not even for a moment. He didn't win; he did reinforce the idea that he knows something.
"Dean?"
"Fuck you Crowley, what now?"
"You do understand that Sam wants this baby?" - now Crowley chooses to look directly at me - "and if you do this, if you take this from him, if he lives through this, you will lose him? And Dean, he has you, and he has me."
And Crowley lets that last sentence hang there. And I know that, not too far down this road, Crowley is going to insist that we do this his way. Whatever the fuck that is. I leave him to his books and his feeling superior.
Bat-Cave, Kitchen:
"Dean?"
"Jesus fucking Christ Cas! Don't fucking sneak up on me." Ok, that wasn't the greatest reaction, but after that morning two weeks, nearly three weeks ago, I don't really know what to say to him. Cas, well, he's Cas, and he just keeps on being him. I could really just about kill him.
"You may want to listen to Crowley. It's too late to safely abort the little Nephilim."
Does everyone have to agree with Sam?
"Yes, I do agree with Sammy."
Great, now Cas is a fucking mind reader, didn't that end when he became human? "You don't get to call him Sammy. His name is Sam."
Cas passes me a beer and opens one for himself, and leans back against the counter. "He'd come home if he believed you would protect her."
How many times haven't I been over this with Cas? If there is any hope, any, of saving Sam, fuck the little Angel bastard it's gone; and Cas won't agree with me. At least I'm not going to wait until it has a beating heart and murder it.
At least I know I can just scoop Sam up from Garth, the more Garth denies he's there, the more I know where to find him, Garth isn't as slick as he likes to think. I let myself have a moment of almost happiness, I know where to find Sam. I picture Sam puttering about the stupid house boat, and looking pregnant, and – dammit – I miss him. Yeah, it would be nice to know what he is eating now, pickles and ice-cream? Lisa never ate pickles and icecream; she just looked so happy, beautific her friends said, long word for happy. I guess Sam isn't looking that contented, he's probably got Kevin and Garth working on how to save The Baby. I wonder if the baby will look like him, like Sam, after all it couldn't look like an Angel? Could it? I wonder if it will look kinda like me. If Lisa and I hadn't lost our baby I wonder if he would have looked like me; probably for the best though, I would just have fucked up his life, I fuck up everything. I look away from Cas. Sammy, yeah, Sammy does have a point, he probably is safer away from me; I do get it, it's just that I can't lose him. Sam is at Garth's, the Zeke doesn't know he bailed out of here, he's pretty safe, for all Garth is an idiot he is a hunter, and Kevin is figuring out how to fix this thing.
I haven't heard from Kevin though, not that that worries me, nah, that doesn't worry me.
"Dean? Dean?" Softly this time, and Cas rests a hand on my shoulder, the first time we've touched since that morning, "There's something you need to know: I can hear the Angels, and they know Sam's not here; they seem concerned that Sam's not here. Bartholomew knows about the Sam's Nephilim. He will…"
I know what 'he will'. What the fuck (again) Cas? How in the fuck did you not tell me such an important piece of information? If he wasn't Cas, if he wasn't human, vulnerable, concerned for Sam, I would deck him. "You can hear the Angels and you didn't think to say anything?" Cas looks puzzled, of course he does, because according to him he just said something.
"So? He's at Garth's, we can just go get him." - And the Impala, Bitch. – Cas looks guilty—wow, that is certainly a good look on him. Wait. "Cas?" What the fuck has he done now; can't I trust anyone?
"Kevin called…you were determined…at the time it seemed better…Sam is gone."
Yeah, that's it, I can't trust anyone.
Impala:
'Anna, I hope it's ok that I call you Anna—it's a Angel's name; I have do something here, and I need you to just hold on, ok?' Maybe she can hear me, why wouldn't she? I wish she wasn't being born into this chaos brought to me by Dean. Dean, would know what to do, oh, yes, that's right, kill Anna; fuck you Dean. I know why women break into grocery stores to steal milk, and bread—I close my eyes and take a big breath—I know why Dean shoplifted when he was a just kid to steal bread and peanut butter for us, for me. I double check that my Taurus is loaded and easily accessible; I check my lock-picks in my hand, running my fingers over them. I can be in and out in minutes. I rest my hand against my belly, 'Stay safe in there Anna.' I have never felt this afraid in my life, but I'm with Anna, I'm not alone. I sound like a teenage girl.
Bat-cave:
"What in the hell do you mean he's not a Garth's?" And now that means that Garth has been lying to, manipulating, me—impressive actually—apparently I under-estimated him. Either that or he wasn't manipulating me, and I over-estimated him.
"He left."
Yeah, thanks again Cas, you already said that.
"He didn't spend a night."
Well that information didn't come from the Angels did it? I throw my hands up. I get up close and personal into Cas' face and he backs away—we haven't been in each other's space like this since that morning. He shakes his head. What the fuck did happen to Kevin?
"They're not going to do anything different than you."
Cas is pushing back into my space. He might be dumb enough to shove me. He takes a swing, I grab his wrist, lock his arm back, twist him around, force him down onto his knees, I hold his face down near the floor. "I don't know where he is Dean." And Cas looks at me, eyes hard, over his shoulder. "Unless we change what we are doing, unless we stop trying to kill Sammy's baby, unless we try to find a way to keep them both safe Sam will continue to run, and the Angels will find him, the Bartholomew isn't merciful Dean, he will keep Sam until the Baby's heart beats on its own, and they will kill both of them." I force Cas further down, his face into the floor, his arm further up, I could break it if I chose; I don't know what I think I will gain hurting him, I don't think he has anything more to say, and then he adds that he lied to Kevin. Kevin thinks I know that Sam is gone. Great, fucking great, I really am all on my own.
Apparently I underestimated Cas also; he takes advantage of my moment of distraction, breaks free, flips me, gets his face inches from mine and uses his entire body to hold me down. "I hate being human," his voice is unnervingly even, his 'I'm-an-Angel-and-I-can-cast-you-back-into-perdition tone', and then he goes on: "You were irresponsible in allowing Sam to become pregnant, you are ill-advised what you want to do to do to him, your actions have been imprudent and self-centered," – don't spare a guy's feelings Cas – He is so close to my face I expect him to kiss me again, but he gets up and starts to walk away, and then stops, "I'm here for you Dean."
In the basement and all alone:
Dean and Cas are distracted, caught up in each other. I can hear them fighting; and I can hear the important things, Sammy isn't at Garth's; and Cas can hear the Angels and they are tracking Sam. Those three extra inches of chain are about to make a difference - I should have specified how much longer I wanted the damn chain, Dean is an ass, and I must be losing my touch – but I can reach the phone Sam keeps hidden in the basement. It was a damn stupid thing to ask for—suspicious—I've definitely lost my touch, I'm worried, worried, about Sam. I don't know how long I have to make this call, I don't know how long he has until the Angels – Bartholomew, what happened to the friendly Zeke - find him.
Impala:
I disabled the alarm, disabled the camera, picked the lock, didn't shoot anyone. 'I'm sorry Anna, started you on a life of crime, the life of a hunter, before you're even here. We were in and out, I got what we need, food, medical supplies, iron, some things for you, we're going to need things for you soon.' Great parenting Sam, classic John Winchester school of parenting. And my phone rings, my other-other-other-didn't-give-the-number-to-anyone phone; all it has is this number programed in.
It's either Dean, or Cas, or Crowley; and Crowley is the only one who knew where I stashed the phone. I risk it. No greeting: The Angel know I'm moving, they may know where I am, Cas can hear the Angels, and Dean hasn't changed the approach on his research, Cas wants Dean to let me keep my baby, Crowley can't find a promising way to save me, he's looking for ways to hide my baby from the Angels, Crowley doesn't know if I should come home. He pauses, and I think he is going to hang-up: instead he asks me how I am.
And I pour my heart out to fucking Crowley, Crowley? Then the call disconnects with no warning, and I think Dean must have found him. I don't feel sick because of anemia, I feel sick because we are in danger and so alone.
Batcave, basement:
He lands a blow. Dean would make a good demon he likes to hit innocent people, innocent demons really, even helpful ones. Then he grabs me by my chain, and slams my head into the table—thank god I'm a demon or that one would really hurt, quite a bit. I let him run, nothing is going to stop him—this is Dean making a claim on Sam. And when he's done he grabs the phone.
"Fucking call him Crowley, call him again, and tell him I won't hurt his baby, I'll save the fucking Nephilim if that's what it takes, and tell him to fucking come home."
Crowley can help, bastard that he is and I'm not going to let Sammy be murdered by Angels, I'm not going to let Sammy die out there all alone. Cas – does he have to sneak? I really thought that was an Angel thing – puts his arms around me; Cas shakes his head, he knows the problem here, Sam won't answer for this number again, we could trace him by triangulating from the towers (if we had Charlie) but Sam's probably already moved on.
The Crowley speaks up again: "There is a chance the Angels may not want the baby, it may not be true Nephilim." Crowley has both our attention now, he continues: "Sammy, courtesy of Azazel, has demon blood in him."
Cas tightens his arms around me, suddenly its Cas that feels as though he is just holding on, before Crowley can continue Cas, clinging as though he is drowning, adds, "The baby, Sam's little baby is truly an abomination."
Crowley looks hopeful, "I believe the Angels won't want him?"
