(A/N) Wow, you guys, I am so sorry I haven't been able to keep up with my release schedule these past few weeks. Week of Christmas, heh...reeeaally shitty time to get the flu. Still haven't quite managed to shake off the cold. Certainly hope the chapter was worth waiting for.

The Rose of Sharon

Chapter 9: There'll Be Peace When You Are Done

Even after more than a year of living in the bunker, Sam had to admit he found it strange having a regular morning routine. Except when...Kevin had still been with them...he and Dean hadn't really kept up anything regular. They were probably just too used to the motel life, tailoring their schedules as their hunts required. Nowadays, though, Elaine was in the habit of getting up before all of them and making breakfast. It was actually pretty amazing what she could do with a handful of flour, a cup of milk, and a few dashes of sugar. She was in the kitchen now whipping up some french toast while the rest of the gang prepared for their respective trips.

Merry had gotten wind of a potential case down in Aberdeen, Mississippi, where young women were turning up murdered, all with their eyes scratched out and all with red hair. While Elaine didn't much like the idea of Merry running off to be bait for whatever creature this might be, she knew she couldn't go with her. They had to stay apart when not in the bunker. Thankfully, Dorothy had opted to join Merry on this hunt, stating that it had been too long since she'd been out of the bunker and that she was starting to go stir crazy.

Sam, meanwhile, was pulling some last minute files in preparation for a trip up to Fall River, Massachusetts with Elaine and Hunter. The gunsmith had informed them that she didn't work the spells for the gospels herself. That was done for her by a coven that worked out of Fall River. Hunter figured that if anyone could help them draw the archangel blade's power from the Mark of Cain, it would be the Circle of Moonrise. Granted, Sam hadn't been very happy to learn that Lucifer was still fucking with his life just by existing, but now that Lailah had officially declared Hunter fit for active duty again, they were finally going to start figuring things out.

"Is Hunter ready to go yet?" Elaine asked as she hurried into the library with trays of food. Sam turned to look at her when he heard her nearly drop one.

"Yeah, she's just...grabbing a case of gospels to take with," he said slowly as he watched her set out individual plates. "Are you...all right? You seem kinda flustered."

"Fine, fine, fine," she tried to brush him off. "I'm just anxious to get on the road. Mer and I haven't been up to Fall River in a few months. We're good friends with the Circle of Moonrise," she explained before shoving half a chocolate-soaked slice of french toast into her mouth. Sometimes Sam found himself amazed at just how much food the diminutive hunter could shove into her mouth.

"Mm, yes, just friends. Absolutely nothing more," Crowley commented as he strolled into the library. Sam had honestly given up being surprised at his appearances. There was no telling when Crowley would be in and when he would be out. "Care for some toast with your syrup, love?"

"Fuck off, pops," Elaine snarled without looking at him. "I'd say there's more in the kitchen, but we all know you'll just take one of the plates if you really want it, so knock yourself out. Please."

"Oh, promises, promises, little girl," the demon king said with a sneer before lifting a single syrup-soaked piece of toast from one of the plates.

"Want breakfast or not, Sam?" Elaine asked him, her good mood just on the verge of souring.

"Sure, just a minute," Sam said before turning his attention back to the bookshelf, continuing the hunt for the genealogy report he'd been looking for. He laid a hand on the spine of the old volume just in time for Cas to appear in the library.

"Never late for a meal, as usual," Elaine said, brightening up when the angel sat at the table like an eager puppy.

"She enjoys the food you make," Cas said as he reached for one of the plates.

"Just her?" Elaine teased. "It must be such a struggle to eat a proper breakfast every morning."

"Well, no," Cas said, looking sheepish as he took a bite of french toast. "Only...it makes me happy...when she is happy."

"Oh, that is so sweet," Elaine sighed, and before Crowley could open his mouth, she snapped without looking at him, "Not one damn word."

Crowley rolled his eyes as he shifted to Castiel's side of the table. Why he listened to this girl was beyond him. Oh, how the mighty were fallen.

"Yay, breakfast!" Merry cheered as she and Dorothy entered the library. Her put on cheerfulness cracked briefly when she reached for the plate with strawberry syrup and found only the one piece of toast. "Hey! How come I only get one?"

"You'll have to take that up with the king of cats here," Elaine said, jerking her head in Crowley's direction. Ever since Hunter had taken up the whole 'kitten' thing, the twins had picked up on it, and lord knew why, but he let them go on doing it. "Don't worry. There's more in the kitchen."

"Well, I'll just have to go and get some more, then," Merry said, sticking her tongue out at Crowley as she picked up her plate. He quickly returned the gesture before she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

"I make no promises I won't kill your boyfriend when this is all over, Cas," Crowley snarled as he rubbed his temples in frustration.

"And why is that?" the angel asked, glaring at the demon out of the corner of his eye, though the effect was somewhat lessened by the syrup dribbling down his chin.

"What am I reduced to? Name-calling with a bloody child! I haven't stuck my tongue out at someone since the sixties...and that's the sixteen sixties, mind."

"Well, maybe we just bring out the worst in you, Dad," Elaine returned the snarl, spitting the word like it was the ugliest curse under the sun. "As you're so fond of mentioning, you did create us. So whose fault is it, really?"

"Adding to that, do we really need to remind you who led Dean to the blade in the first place?" Sam asked, not looking up from the book he was flipping through.

"No, you don't, Moosey," the demon said with yet another roll of his eyes. "In fact, I-"

What Crowley had meant to say next, Sam would probably never know. All he knew was that the next sound to overtake the conversation was the very distinct sound of someone throwing up. Quickly spinning around, Sam was greeted by the sight of Cas leaning miserably over in his chair while Crowley just sat perfectly still in his own, contemplating the vomit that now covered his lap.

"You know," Crowley began, addressing the room at large, "I absolutely did not sign up for this. You morons clean up your own mess. I need a spa day." Then he was gone.

"Whoa, Cas," Sam started as he moved toward the table, where Elaine was already moving around to the angel, "I'm sorry you're not feeling well, but you gotta admit...Dean would have loved that."

"Yes...yes, I imagine he would have," Cas groaned, his face pinched in misery as his shoulders trembled. "That was...exceedingly unpleasant."

"Ooh, guess somebody doesn't get to skip out on morning sickness," Hunter said as she and Lailah entered the library, Lailah with a glass of water in hand. While Elaine stroked the angel's back soothingly, Lailah offered him the water.

"Here, drink this."

Cas took the glass from her, clutching it in both hands, just contemplating it for several moments before finally taking a small swallow. "I am...sorry, Elaine."

"Sorry? What are you sorry for? You're the one who's sick."

"It seems rather...hypocritical...to say that we enjoy your food...and then to vomit it back up," Cas said, taking another sip of water.

"Aw, c'mon, man, that's not your fault. It comes with the territory. I'll warm your plate up later when you're feeling up to it."

"Thank you, though...I think maybe I should just return to bed. As much as I enjoyed it earlier, I find that the scent is now turning my stomach," the pregnant angel said before flitting out of the room.

"You gonna be able to handle him?" Sam asked Lailah, taking a bite of french toast before taking the book he was still holding back to the shelf.

"Believe me, I can handle anything these two can dish out. You don't need to worry about us," Lailah said, claiming a plate for herself while Hunter did the same, sitting down next to her.

"You about good to go, Sam?" the gunsmith asked as she tucked into her breakfast.

"Just about. I just need to eat and then we...we're...the hell?" Sam's words slowly trailed off in confusion as he tried to put the book back in place. It wouldn't slide back in quite right and when the hunter shifted aside some of the books to have a look, he found a key sticking out of a small lock at the back of the shelf. Reaching back, he gave the small key a quick turn and the bookshelf immediately pulled back into the wall and slid to the side.

"Okay...this is new," Sam said slowly as he stuck his head into the darkened room behind the shelf.

"Oh, yeah. You didn't even know that was back there?" Dorothy asked, not turning to look, as she was still finishing up her own breakfast.

"Can't say as I did," Sam responded.

"What is it?" Hunter asked as she stood from the table to go and join Sam.

"It's the Men of Letters' top secret music room," the older hunter said with a roll of her eyes.

When the lights finally came up in the secret room, Sam could see that Dorothy was right. A baby grand piano sat in the far corner of the room and the walls were lined with all manner of instruments, some in cases and others on display, such as a very old-looking coronet and an ornate harp. There were even a few bookshelves, all filled with volumes of what was probably sheet music.

"Well, I wouldn't...oh...my..." whatever cynical thing Hunter had been about to say slowly faded away to nothing when she got a good look at what was in the room. A look of awe slowly spread across her face as she wandered inside.

"So...why is it hidden away like this?" Sam called over his shoulder, not wholly able to look away from the tiny smile that was lighting the gunsmith's face.

"Soundproofing," Dorothy answered in a deadpan sort of way. "I'm pretty sure you can imagine how annoying it would be to have to listen in while someone was in there working."

"It does make a kind of sense," Hunter said slowly, reaching for one of the books on the wall and carefully flipping through the old sheet music. "For them to keep a place like this, I mean. Music does have a lot of practical application in spell work and the like." She barely managed to get the music back on the shelf before drifting toward the piano. She ran her fingers over the dusty keys almost reverently. "I've never played one of these before. Mom had an upright at home when I was growing up."

"More than just the guitar under your belt?" Sam asked her, venturing in after her.

"Well, yeah," she said, shaking her head, as if to snap herself out of a revery. "We all have things we'd do if we weren't in the life. Music's my thing," she said, placing her fingers on a certain set of keys and testing out a chord. Hunter winced at the sound the old instrument made. "Oh, yeah. This old girl needs some love. Think it'd be all right if I tuned her up?"

"Don't see why not," Sam said with a shrug and a small smile. "Not like anybody else is even using this room. Actually...if you want it, you can have it to yourself."

"Really?" Hunter asked as she turned to look at him, a similar smile lighting her face.

"Of course. I wouldn't mind seeing what you can do with some of these instruments."

"That...I'd like that," the gunsmith finally managed to get out, her smile becoming shy as she looked away from him.

"If you two want food, you'd better rejoin the world, 'cuz I'm about to just lock you both in," Merry informed them, having emerged from the kitchen with a newly filled plate.

"Yeah, we should probably...finish eating," Sam stuttered.

"Right. Gotta...hit the road," Hunter mumbled as she followed Sam out of the music room. Once they'd gotten out, Sam slid the shelf back into place and locked it. Then he pulled the small key from the lock and handed it to Hunter.

"All yours."

"Thank you," she said quietly, looking at him just out of the corner of her eye as she tucked the key into her pocket.

"Doing it again," Merry pointed out with a giggle.

"Right," Sam started.

"Toast," Hunter finished. As the two finally sat down at the table to properly eat their breakfast, the other four women couldn't help grinning or chuckling in their own way. How long would it be before one of them stopped for another staring contest with a piece of food halfway to their mouth?

XxX

Sam would freely admit he was used to the whole old house alone in the woods business, but this one he now drove up to was a little different than the scenario he was familiar with. The two story house was well kept and cheery looking. A woman was sitting at a table on the large front porch reading a book while two kids played with a gang of plastic dinosaurs. When the two children, a boy and a girl, looked up from their game to see who was emerging from the Jeep, they both jumped up, shouting as they ran to them.

"Hunter!" the girl shouted as she ran to the gunsmith, laughing gleefully as she swept her up in her arms.

"Laney!" the boy shouted as he jumped into Elaine's waiting arms. The elder Serra immediately covered the little boy's face with kisses.

"Ew!" the boy protested, though he didn't try to escape the hug. "No kisses!"

"And why wouldn't I kiss my little man? He's getting so big. Next time I leave and come back, you're going to be all grown up."

"Blech! No way!" the boy protested, sticking his tongue out.

"Hunter, you missed my birthday! I'm six now," the girl said proudly as she snuggled firmly into the woman's embrace. Hunter grunted quietly as she hefted the little girl into a tighter hold.

"I know, little miss. I'm not gonna be able to pick you up much longer. Better enjoy it while we can."

"Who's that?" the boy asked, pointing at Sam, his eyes wide as he looked him up and down.

"Christian, this is Sam. He's a friend of ours. Sam, this is Christian," Hunter introduced.

"It's nice to meet you, Christian," Sam said, not sure if he was supposed to shake the boy's hand or not. Christian made no attempt to, though. He just continued to stare at Sam, eyes wide as dinner plates.

"You're huge," he finally declared. "How did you get so big?"

"Oh, you know...getting enough sleep, drinking milk, eating my green vegetables," he answered with a shrug.

"No way."

"Christian!" the girl shouted. Considering their similar brown eyes, auburn hair, and coffee-colored skin, Sam assumed she was his sister. "That's rude. You're not s'pposed to ask people that."

"And who are you?" Sam asked the girl.

"I'm Abby. I'm six. Christian's my little brother. He's just four. Please excuse him," she said properly with a bob of her head.

"Absolutely," Sam said before going to retrieve their bags from the trunk.

"You want to show us into the house?" Hunter asked Abby as she let her down. Abby nodded happily and immediately darted toward the house with the three hunters following her, Elaine still holding Christian in her arms.

"Hello," the woman greeted them all with a grin as they approached the house. She had the same light coffee-colored skin and brown eyes as the two kids. Her long hair was a slightly darker color, though. Setting her book down, she stood from the table and came forward to give both Elaine and Hunter hugs. "It's good to see you two again. Where's Merry?"

"Working a case down in Mississippi," Elaine answered, letting a wriggling Christian down from her arms.

"Ah. And this must be the famous Sam Winchester," the woman said.

"Yes. It's nice to meet you, Ma'am," Sam said, shifting one of the bags to his other hand so he could reach out to shake hers.

"Alma Stewart," she introduced herself as she returned the handshake. "Of course, you've already met my two little monsters."

"Raargh! Raargh! Raargh!" Christian growled as he picked up a T-rex and ran inside. Abby picked up a pterodactyl before following after him.

"Chris, wait up!"

"Drive was uneventful, I hope?" Alma asked them.

"Very much so," Elaine said.

"Small miracles, I suppose. Circe's been waiting for you," Alma said, leading the way into the house.

The three hunters were led down a hall and into a spacious kitchen area. There was a young woman hard at work at the stove, attending to several skillets of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. While she scurried around, two other women sat at the large kitchen table nursing two small mugs. One was noticeably elderly, but she had aged gracefully. Her long white hair was pulled atop her head in a messy ponytail and her green eyes were warm. Laugh lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes and mouth as she chuckled at something the other woman had said. The second appeared to be younger, with only a few streaks of grey in her short black hair. She was also grinning, but her grey eyes held an edge the older woman's gaze lacked. The pair noticed them immediately.

"Hello, Hunter, Elaine, Sam," the older woman greeted. When the young woman heard her speak, she spun around.

"Elaine!" she shouted, her blue eyes sparkling with a joy Sam had only seen a handful of times in his life. The loose bun her hair had been pinned in came undone as she rushed forward to hug Elaine and a mess of brown curls spilled down her back. Elaine returned the hug just as enthusiastically, and as she held the other woman, Sam saw yet another look he was familiar with.

Longing.

"It's been way too long, Rachael," Elaine said, and if Sam didn't know better, he would almost say she was inhaling the scent of her hair.

"You're early," Rachael whined quietly as she pulled away from Elaine. "Breakfast isn't ready yet. I...I wanted to cook for you."

"I'm...sure it'll be delicious," Elaine said with a small blush.

"It's all right, Rachael. We've got plenty to talk about while you finish cooking," the old woman reassured her. "Would anyone like some tea?"

"Sure," they all responded.

"Well, have a seat. Alma can take your bags to the guest rooms and I'll get you some mugs," the other woman said. Once Sam made sure Alma could handle the bags, he joined the others at the table. The old woman smiled faintly at him the entire time.

"We all know who you are of course, Sam Winchester, but I suppose we have you at a disadvantage. I am Circe Jones. I am the high priestess of this coven," the old woman finally introduced herself. Sam reached across the table to shake her hand.

"Hunter told me. It's an honor to meet you, Ma'am."

"You as well, young Winchester. The woman at the stove is Rachael Wick."

"Hi!" Rachael called out, waving briefly before getting right back to the bacon.

"And this is my niece, Weaver McKenna," Circe introduced the other woman as she set a steaming mug of tea in front of each of them.

"A pleasure," Sam said, shaking Weaver's hand before she sat back down beside her aunt. He inhaled the scent of chai before taking a grateful sip of the tea. It had been a long drive. "So...did Hunter tell you what's been happening?"

"No need. We know what's been happening. I keep my eye on things and if there's anything I can do to help, I'll do my best. Ever since your brother was raised from Hell, though, it's all been a little above my pay grade," Circe said with a weary smile. "We help where we can."

"There might be a way for you to help now, Circe. Have you ever heard of the First Blade?" Hunter asked her. When she heard the words, Circe's expression immediately went dark.

"I have. I've even had the, ah...pleasure...of a run in with Cain. I understand the Mark is the cause of it all."

"Yes. We've recently discovered some new information, though...about the Mark's true identity."

"An archangel blade," Weaver said quietly, her gaze shifting among the three of them.

"That's why it's the only thing that can kill a Knight of Hell, and this mystery number five everyone's been talking about. It's the only weapon of its kind still in existence on this plane. If we can harness its power, we might be able to get rid of this angel before she has a chance to hurt Castiel's kid," Hunter explained.

"Well...short of grinding Dean Winchester up into powder and adding him to the spell, I know of no way to harness the Mark's power. I take it that's not on the table," the old witch said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, no. That we actively try to avoid...y'know, for all the good it does us," Sam said with a small wince. As much as they tried to avoid violent death, it always did seem to find them...many times over.

"Certainly. It seems to me I'll have to go to the man himself to get the information we need."

"What? Do you mean...Cain?" Sam asked her.

"Just what I mean. It will take a fair amount of doing, though...as to find someone who doesn't want to be found."

"That would be why we came to the best," Hunter said with a grin.

"Flattery won't finish the task any faster for the speaking, my girl," Circe said with a wry grin and a shake of her head. "It seems to me we would do better to have some breakfast before we get to the spell work. I believe we're nearly ready now."

"Yes, we are," Rachael said proudly as she flipped one last pancake from the skillet and onto an already sizable stack. That done, she pulled down several stacks of plates from one of the cabinets before heading toward the hall and calling out, "BREAKFAST!"

An immediate clatter sounded overhead at the call. Within moments, Abby and Christian were stampeding into the kitchen with their mother trailing behind, an exhausted smile on her face.

"Pancakes! Pancakes! Yay, pancakes!" Christian shouted as he crashed into Rachael, who laughed as she seized him in her arms.

"Somebody's wound up this morning."

"Christian, what do we say?" Alma asked him.

"Thank you for pancakes, Rachael!" the little boy half-sang.

"Thank you," Abby added, only just tall enough to retrieve a plate of her own from the countertop.

"And the daily stampede begins," Circe said with a laugh as she stood from the table. "The others will be down before too long. You had best get some food before our little Christian eats it all."

Taking the advice to heart, Sam followed Elaine and Hunter over to stove and loaded up a plate. That done, he sat back at the table with them and watched 'the others' troop into the kitchen.

The first was a boy who couldn't have been any older than Kevin was. He was about average in height and the brown curls that fell into his eyes nearly concealed the fact that they were blue. He eyed the three newcomers nervously for a moment before filling himself a plate and sitting down at the table.

The second was a woman probably closer to Dean's age. Her skin was a deep chocolate brown color and her hair was jet black, done up in cornrows on the top of her head while the rest burst out in a mass of curls, not contained in any way. In a way, her expression almost reminded Sam of Dean, too: ready for either a good time or to kill anything that moved. It all depended on how the wind shifted.

The last was a man Sam would have guessed to be maybe a little older than Dean, only a few inches shorter than his older brother. Where the boy had very pale skin, this man had more of a tanned tone. He was very well muscled and his shaggy blond hair fell to the tops of his shoulders. One green eye and one brown eye glared out of his face as he surveyed the three of them. He grunted a 'hello' to Hunter and Elaine before fixing himself a plate and heading back out of the kitchen.

"Don't mind Atreus, Sam. He'll be sociable when he feels like it," Weaver informed him around a mouthful of bacon.

"Atreus?" Sam clarified.

"Yes, anyone who enters the Circle of Moonrise is permitted to choose their own name. Being fully self-actualized is an important part of learning spell craft. Atreus Saint-Clair is the name he chose for himself," Circe explained.

"So that's...Atreus like the myth? The Bloody House of Atreus?" Sam clarified again.

"I know of no other," the high priestess said by way of answer.

"That's...a very interesting choice," Sam said slowly before beginning to munch on his eggs. With a choice like that, there was definitely some sort of history there.

"Well, when you get to pick for yourself, you're definitely not gonna go with Ann," the new woman said, reaching her hand across the table to shake Sam's. "Name's Sekhmet Walker."

"Sam Winchester," he returned.

"The wallflower's Kestrel Markus," Sekhmet introduced for the boy when he remained silent. "He's new."

"Hi," Kestrel said, barely looking up from his food.

"Good to meet you both," Sam said, gaze lingering on Kestrel a moment before getting himself to ask, "So how many of you live here?"

"The only one you haven't met yet is my husband, Will, but he leaves for work very early," Alma answered. "We're a small circle, so we've got to take care of each other."

"Though, I suppose now that we're mostly here, Hunter ought to be able to share the good news she has," Circe said, looking expectantly at the gunsmith, who just looked confused for a moment before finally realizing what she meant.

"Oh, that. Well...looks like I'm going to be a mom sometime in March."

For a moment, it didn't seem to sink in, but then Rachael burst out with, "Oh, my God, Hunt, that's amazing!"

"Congrats, lady," Sekhmet put in.

"Who's the lucky fellow? This one perhaps?" Alma asked, glancing in Sam's direction.

"Oh- no," Sam choked out after nearly inhaling a mouthful of bacon. "No, no, no. We've...only known each other about a month."

"Must have been an interesting month, judging by that blush," Sekhmet teased.

"It was Leigh," Hunter answered, immediately killing the playful attitude in the room.

"Really? I- I didn't realize you two...had a thing," Rachael said slowly.

"We didn't," the gunsmith said plainly as she violently chopped up her pancakes. "It was one night. A kid got killed by a werewolf and Leigh was...he was in bad shape over it. He needed somebody. Then the idiot had to up and die on me."

"So...you don't know if it's a boy or girl yet?" Alma asked, trying to steer the conversation in a less tense direction.

"No idea. Could even be both. It's twins."

"And how do you know that already?" Alma continued.

"The...angel of conception told me," Hunter said with a nod. "Somehow I think she might just know what she's talking about. Though...I suppose she could tell me if I asked. She knows the gender of Cas' kid already."

"Well, I might just have to go and have a chat with her myself then," Alma said with a self-satisfied smile, and when Hunter realized what that meant, she began to smile faintly herself.

"Got another one in the oven?"

"That I do. At about four months now, so this little one will really be starting to show in the next few weeks here," Alma said, patting her belly gently.

"It's gonna be a baby brother," Christian insisted, banging his fork against the table.

"You don't know that!" Abby argued, sticking her tongue out at him. "It could be a baby sister. Besides, I'm gonna know before you do."

"There's no guarantee of that, Abby. Drink your orange juice," Alma advised serenely as she took a sip of her tea.

"I'm sorry...guarantee?" Sam repeated.

"Yes. Abby, she...she can see things before they happen...but there's no telling what she might see or when," Alma explained.

"Oh," Sam said softly, forcing back the memory of his own stint with such an ability. God, if Abby experienced some of the things he had..."What sorts of things do you see, Abby?" he asked her.

"Lots'a stuff," the little girl answered, idly pushing a piece of bacon around in the syrup that remained on her plate. "I saw Rachael burning pizza once. And I saw Atreus set a river on fire. Saw Kestrel get beat up. Saw Chris fall out of bed. I saw you talkin' to the wolf people."

"Hold up. What was that? Wolf people?"

"Ah, yes. That," Circe said matter-of-factly. "I had hoped to ease into that, but we've had some visitors to our town recently. A pair of jackals. They've been spotted in town and in the woods. Abby had a vision several weeks ago. It seems they've come to speak with you and Hunter. We've tried, but they will not speak with us. It seems they've been waiting for you to come."

"So...jackals? Wolf people? I mean...what are these guys?" Sam asked

"I could not say exactly. They were human once, I would guess, but the magic they are possessed of is very ancient. They are not monsters, if that's what you're fearing."

"Well...that is what one tends to worry about when hearing about wolf people," Sam said.

"The best I can glean from them is that they are servants. I could not guess whom of, but they mean you no harm. If you wish, you might go and speak with them once we've finished eating."

"Harm or no harm, I am definitely not going into the woods unarmed," Sam said before finishing off his tea.

"Amen to that," Hunter said as she nicked the last piece of bacon from his plate, and Sam was just too happy to see her doing it to even be angry about the fact that she'd stolen it from him.

XxX

Sam and Hunter were armed to the teeth and ready to go just as soon as the breakfast dishes were all cleaned up. Elaine had offered to join, but Circe advised against it, stating it was only the two of them these beings wanted to speak to. It wasn't too big of a deal, though, as the elder Serra seemed quite content to stay behind and catch up with Rachael.

"So...Elaine and Rachael," Sam started once the two of them were out of sight of the house. "They seem..."

"Ready to tear each other's clothes off and fuck like bunnies, don't care who knows it?" Hunter finished, grinning wryly as they moved through the trees.

"Pretty much."

"Yeah, those two have been like that ever since I've known them. You may not know this, but Elaine did her foster care stint here in Fall River. She and Rachael met up, became friends, and they've been dancing around each other ever since. Mer and I keep pushing, but...yeah, no dice. Elaine isn't usually shy about her interests, but Rachael was the only friend she had for a good while and I guess she doesn't want to risk that bond, despite how obvious it is that Rachael would run away with her in a heartbeat. Sound like anyone you know?" Hunter asked with a sigh, and Sam sighed right along with her, knowing exactly who she was talking about.

"So how did you meet up with these guys?" he asked her after several minutes had passed.

"Ah...well, my folks were good friends with Circe. I was only sixteen when they were killed in the Packwood Takedown. I lived here for a few years before setting up shop in Remington. Circe still likes to keep an eye on me...favor to my parents, I guess. She even gave me a charm," Hunter said, lifting up the slender length of leather thong around her neck to reveal the small circular pendant that hung from it. Some sort of script Sam couldn't make out was etched into the silver. He'd seen her wearing the pendant, but he'd never commented on it before.

"And are they all actual witches or are most of them just Wiccans?" Sam continued to ask.

"It's a pretty even split. Kestrel's a Wiccan. So are Alma and Will, but Abby has actual abilities, so they find it safer to live among the Circle. Rachael started off as just a Wiccan, but she's been learning to generate spirit forms. The others, though, they all have natural abilities...things they were born with, I mean."

"Such as...?"

"Sekhmet was born human, so she isn't a skinwalker, but she was born with the ability to shift into animal forms. I promise she isn't a monster; she's in complete control when she shifts. We have yet to find another person with this exact ability, though."

"And the others?" Sam pressed.

"I'm not...really sure how to explain Atreus' ability. You'd have to see it for yourself. He can...reopen old wounds. He makes people bleed," she said, a disquiet look coming to her eyes.

"So? Pretty much anybody who's even remotely connected to this life could say the same," Sam pointed out, even though he could tell this was different by the look in Hunter's eyes.

"Like I said...you'll have to see it for yourself."

"And...Circe and Weaver?"

"Weaver's a psychic. She doesn't like to broadcast it. She learned to keep quiet at a time when speaking up could get you killed."

"What does that mean?"

"Circe and Weaver...they're the leaders. They're very powerful. I don't know how long they've been around exactly, but they've seen a lot. At this point, I think they're in it to help people who need helping."

"Well, if that's true, then it's great," Sam said, not quite looking at her as they continued their trek.

"What? You don't trust them?"

"In my experience, witches who want to help are more the exception than the rule," he said quietly, remembering no shortage of nasty hex bags he and Dean had run afoul of.

"Well, if you can't trust them...can you at least trust me?" Hunter asked him, coming to a stop in the middle of the path.

Sam came to a stop a few paces ahead of her, not looking back at her for several moments. Did he trust her? He shouldn't. For both their sakes, he shouldn't let her into his life...and she shouldn't let him into hers...but for some stupid, dangerous reason, neither of them seemed to be listening to their better instincts. Smiling sadly, he finally turned to her. "Yeah...I think I can do that."

"Good," Hunter said, and for a strangely peaceful moment they just stood smiling at each other, but that moment was interrupted by a shifting of rocks on the ground. Hunter's eyes widened and she gasped. "Sam!"

Sam immediately spun around, seeing two black-furred jackals emerge onto the path. Instinctively, his hand went to his gun, but he didn't draw it. For several tense moments, the two pairs just stared at each other, each seizing the other up.

"Hello," Sam said after a time. "My name is Sam Winchester. This is Hunter Silver. We were told you wanted to speak with us."

For another long moment, the two jackals just stared at them. Their eyes were unlike any wolf Sam had ever seen before. With skin walkers it was easy for them to pass as true canines, but these two...there was unmistakable intelligence in their eyes...and as Sam watched, the wolfish faces that framed them began to change. The black fur receded, leaving behind light coffee-colored skin and sleek black hair. Canine joints crunched and reformed into human forms and before too long, a man and a woman were standing across from them. The woman wore a black halter top and paneled skirt and the man wore only a pair of black jeans. Around their necks were two crystal pendants that Sam at first thought were crosses, but that he soon recognized to be ankhs.

"You are Sam Winchester?" the man repeated.

"The one and only," he answered with a shrug.

"And you are Hunter Silver?" the woman asked the gunsmith.

"Ditto," Hunter replied, moving to stand at Sam's side.

"Now...we kind of have a lot going on, so...what is it you want to speak to us about?" Sam continued.

"We are aware of the present situation. We come to you now because...because we are the same," the man said, looking confused as he spoke, and Sam was no less confused.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know of a better way to explain it. My memory isn't fully intact. Maybe a better place to begin would be with names. I am called Tekhenu, but most call me Tek, and this woman is my mate, Kiah," Tek introduced.

"You aren't skinwalkers," Hunter said decisively. "So what are you?"

"We're servants," Kiah answered.

"That doesn't help so much with the whole what thing. Servant is a function, not a state of being. If you aren't human, you're something else. What is that something?" Hunter pressed.

"That is the something. We were human once...a very long time ago...but we gave ourselves in service to our master. We are servants," Tek explained.

"Servants of who, then? Who's your master?" Sam asked.

"He is the Embalmer. He is Foremost of the Westerners. He is Guardian of the Scales. He is guide and protector. He is the son of compassion and he is the one who remains after all hope is gone," Kiah claimed proudly.

"All fine titles, I'm sure, but they're still not names," Hunter pointed out.

"He has many. You might know him by a different name, but the one we call him is Inpu. We've served him faithfully for five thousand years," Tek said.

"Five thousand?" Sam repeated, eyes widening.

"Shoot, hope the retirement plan's good," Hunter muttered.

"That is the hope," Kiah said with a slight smile. "He's had many servants through the ages, but they've all gone to their rest now...all except us."

"And why is that?" Sam asked.

"We aren't...really sure," Tek answered after a moment of pained silence. "We only know that we swore this oath all those centuries ago so that we could escape death. We had to survive to the present age."

"Why?" Hunter asked.

"To witness the coming of the Rose of Sharon," Kiah answered solemnly, and at her words, Sam and Hunter shared a concerned look.

"How do you know about her?"

"We don't know," Tek repeated with a pained look. "We only know that we have to help. We don't know what, but something happened a very long time ago...and it's about to happen again. We won't let it," he said firmly.

"And you have no idea what that something is?" Sam asked, still uncertain whether to trust the pair or not. There was no telling if the event they were to prevent was the baby's death...or its birth.

"No. All we know is that there are seven keys. These keys will unlock the gates of memory," Kiah told them. "I don't know what they are, but I can tell you that two of the keys are standing before us."

Again, Sam and Hunter looked at each other. Sam had told Hunter about Crowley's theory of her trust being the fifth item, but...a second key? Which one could it be? Did it somehow mean that...Sam was one of the keys? Which one?

Shaking off the sudden worry, Sam turned his attention back to the two servants. "I'm not sure how, but you two seem to know about the ritual. Does the name Israfil mean anything to either of you?"

Both sets of brown eyes widened at this. The pair turned to look at each other at this, sharing a similar glance of concern.

"It's strange. My mind says no..." Tek began.

"...but my heart tells a different story," Kiah finished, her hand finding its way to her heart...as if something had hurt her. "I don't know why, but there's pain in that name."

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. "That seems to be the general consensus on this one. Well, if that's all you've got for us, we should probably be getting back."

"We haven't given you reason to trust us yet," Tek said.

"Not really, no," Hunter agreed.

"We understand. I believe we'll be able to prove it to you with time. Just know that if you ever need us, you have only to call out," Kiah told them.

"You should also be aware that ours aren't the only eyes watching you," Tek warned them before he and Kiah turned and began to walk back into the woods. As they moved, Sam happened to notice a strange set of symbols tattooed into their backs. Just before they began their shift back to jackal form, Sam whipped out his phone and snapped a quick picture of the twin images. Then, almost in the blink of an eye, they were jackals again, and when they turned to face them one last time, Sam noticed something he hadn't before. On their chests were two very distinct white blazes of fur, almost in the shape of ankhs...just like the pendants they'd been wearing. Then, just as suddenly as they'd appeared, they were gone.

"Well," Hunter started with a loud crack of her neck, "nothing like a healthy dose of paranoia to help settle your breakfast."

"What do you suppose any of that meant?"

"I dunno, but this whole business just keeps getting screwier and screwier. We should probably talk to Circe about losing whatever tail they were talking about."

"Yeah...right," Sam said slowly as they started to head back. If what they'd said was true, then Sam was either off his game or they had something majorly bad on their trail.

XxX

"Never did much like this whole bait hunting business," Dorothy commented as she leaned back against the tree she was sitting in. Merry wanted it to appear like she was alone, so she'd insisted on Dorothy waiting it out in the tree while she parked herself on the bench below it.

"Well, maybe you don't, but some of us prefer to use what we have. Don't forget, this is my hunt, sweetheart," Merry reminded her as she gave her hair a significant toss, making sure the red strands were visible in the slight breeze. They were just starting to lose the last few rays of sunlight. They hadn't had any leads so far on what their target might be, so Merry had decided to see if they could draw the creature out into the open just by dangling her in front of it. They'd had no luck so far, but Merry was hopeful for after dark.

"Yeah, and I'm the one who volunteered to back you up."

"If you've got any better ideas, let's hear 'em. Seems to me this is better than waiting around for another innocent woman to get killed."

Dorothy sighed. "Yeah...maybe you're right. Guess I can be grateful for the fact it's not both of you out here. I might just go crazy if I had to watch even one more redhead do something stupid and get hurt."

"Hey...you and Charlie...what was going on between the two of you anyway?" Merry found herself asking before she could stop.

"Oh, now that's just none of your business, kid," Dorothy grated. She didn't want to talk about what was or was not between her and Charlie Bradbury because even she wasn't sure anymore.

"Well, that hurts my feelings, Dorothy," a painfully familiar voice suddenly jumped into their conversation. Both their heads snapped up to behold Charlie approaching them through the evening mist that covered the park. "Why wouldn't you want to talk about me? I thought we had something special."

Dorothy immediately leapt down from the tree, landing beside Merry as she jumped up from the bench. Both had their guns drawn in a heartbeat.

"Charlie and I had something. You've got no right to talk, you demon bitch!" Dorothy snapped at the enemy who wore the face of the only woman she'd ever cared anything for.

"I'm still Charlie, though, hon. I'm not just some random demon riding her ass while she's still in here with me...screaming. No...I am her, and I like the way things are now. I would've thought you did, too...given what we did after Dean turned me," Charlie said, continuing to draw closer to them.

"Dorothy?" Merry asked uncertainly, her gaze flickering between the two women for a moment.

"Shut up!" the hunter out of time snarled at both of them. "Don't you dare try to claim I consented to that. I was tied up!"

"Mm, yes...maybe at first you didn't consent, but you liked it. You know you did," the demon hissed as she licked her lips...and for Dorothy, the motion of her tongue immediately brought back to mind the way it had felt...that mouth pressed passionately against her clit while she writhed beneath it.

"Stop it!" Dorothy shouted, feeling fear start to creep in around the edges of her calm. She kept her gun aimed at Charlie, but her hands were starting to shake. Charlie just laughed.

"Let's not play games here, Dorothy. You aren't going to shoot me and you know it," she said, and while Dorothy continued to hesitate, Charlie used her power to slam Merry back against the tree, keeping her pinned there.

"You," Merry choked out as she struggled against the demonic hold. "It was you. You killed all those girls."

"Yeah, it was me," Charlie said with a chuckle, coming to a stop just inches from the quivering muzzle of Dorothy's pistol. "I figured if I just kept at it long enough one of you would notice and come down to investigate. Guess I was right."

"What do you want?" Merry demanded as best she could.

"It's very simple," Charlie said as she took hold of Dorothy's gun and slowly forced her to lower it, sneering at her all the while. "Dean wants the First Blade back. Where is it?"

"We...we don't have it," Dorothy said, feeling herself on the verge of a complete breakdown. This was the first time she'd seen Charlie since...since it happened.

"I never imagined you did, but you do know where it is. I'm betting the angel has it, so why don't you give him a call."

"What'll you do...if we don't?" Merry pressed.

"Mm...maybe we'll go find your sister...have ourselves a nice repeat of that hot little menage a trois we had last year. That was fun, wasn't it?" she asked, glancing over Dorothy's shoulder at Merry. "Only I think there'll be more knives involved this time."

"Don't you touch...my sister!" Merry growled.

"You know what? I've got a better idea," Charlie said as she easily slipped the gun from Dorothy's hands and walked past her, leaving her standing there, frozen. Then she moved toward Merry, pressing the gun to her temple as she turned back to Dorothy. "Dorothy...you call him...or I'll blow her precious brains all over the park."

"Dorothy, don't!" Merry pleaded with her. "Don't do it."

"Do it now."

"If Cas comes...she'll call Dean. You can't!"

Under any other circumstances imaginable, Dorothy wouldn't have done it. She wouldn't have given in; but it seemed that every skill, every trick she'd ever learned in her life, had utterly deserted her in this moment. She was trapped with no way out.

Castiel...can you hear me? she prayed silently.

XxX

Cas had been asleep when he heard Dorothy's prayer, but the moment he became aware of it, he was awake instantly.

Castiel, I don't know if you can hear me, but Charlie's here. She wants the First Blade. If you don't come...she's going to kill Merry.

"I'm coming," he said quietly without even a second thought, but before he could take wing, Lailah was standing in his doorway, looking almost angry.

"Don't," she ordered firmly.

"Lailah-"

"Don't go out there. Not on your own. Not again. You might not get so lucky this time. I know you don't care about your own, but how many times are you going to risk your daughter's life?"

"If I don't go, they will die. They need me," he argued with her. "I have to go."

"If you're going, you're not going alone. You're not leaving me here this time. Heal my wings."

"What?"

"I said heal my wings!" she snapped at him. "I'm going to make sure you're looked after this time. None of the others can do that. I know you would prefer me to be safe, but this is my purpose. Let me fulfill it. Let me protect my child. Let me be a mother."

Castiel stared at her for several long moments before finally nodding his consent. He hadn't offered before because he wasn't sure what the effects might be, but if it was what she wanted, he would grant it. Standing from his bed, he held his hand out to her.

"Give me your hand."

When she did, Castiel could feel the now familiar energy swirling within his being, harmonizing between himself and his daughter before it passed to Lailah. He could see the agony in both her forms as the cosmic energy blistered her spirit with its fire and that strange chorus of Heaven and Hell finally reached its crescendo when the power burst from her body as a magnificent set of newborn wings. Lailah collapsed into his arms with a final cry of pain.

These wings were different from his. Where his new wings were plainly equal parts dark and divine, Lailah's were holy light with only a hint of dark fire at their core. Whatever it meant, though, Lailah would at least be able to fly once again.

"Will you be able to handle a short flight?" he asked her.

"Yes...I'll be fine," she said, though her form still trembled slightly as she stood on her own. "We need to go."

Faster than the speed of a thought, the two angels were gone. However, when they appeared in Aberdeen, Mississippi, a ring of holy oil immediately ignited around them. Glaring, Cas focused his attention on Charlie, who was already circling them. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Merry and Dorothy pinned to a nearby tree.

"What is it you want, Charlie?" he asked her.

"I'm betting you already know, feathers. Dean wants the First Blade back."

"Well, as you can see, we don't have it. I have no intention of telling you where it is."

"Then I think you can guess what's going to happen here," she started as she drifted away from the circle. "I'm just gonna cut on these two until you tell me what I want to hear."

"Cas, I really hope you're not that stupid," Merry groaned, a very distinct bruise already marring the left side of her face. "We've had enough stupidity here for one night."

"You realize we can resurrect them...if it comes to that," Cas said, the last part only slightly hesitant. With the world as upside down as it already was, he didn't want to take the risk of any of his friends being dead for even a moment.

"Yeah, I know, but you know what the trouble with you good guys is?" Charlie asked as she pulled out a knife, using it to cut open the front of Dorothy's shirt. "You just can't stand to watch other people in pain. I predict you'll break a long time before I need to go that far." With that, Charlie started to carve a thin line from the waistline of Dorothy's pants up to just between her breasts.

"Castiel," Dorothy hissed, fighting to hold back her pain. "This is my fault. I deserve this. Whatever you do, don't listen to her."

"I could do this all night, Cas," Charlie warned him as she continued to carve lines in Dorothy's skin. "What's it gonna be, angel boy?"

"There may be something I can do about this," Castiel whispered to Lailah. "But you'll need to be ready. Are you prepared to step in if it should go wrong?"

"I am, but...Castiel...I'm not certain how many times you can risk doing this without harm to yourself or the child."

"I have to try," Cas said, focusing on the ring of holy fire that surrounded them. Connecting to the barely conscious energy that was his daughter, he wished for what it was he needed.

We need to erase this barrier. Please help me.

Cas didn't even really need to finish the thought. It took only a moment for the energy to resonate between them. When it had reached its peak, he was able to sweep away the circle with ease...but just as soon as it was done, he felt the energy drain right out of him, revealing just how difficult the feat had actually been.

The angel collapsed, falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He had only a moment more of consciousness to hear Merry cry out his name before he was completely gone.

XxX

Dean, meanwhile, was sitting in a high end hotel suite somewhere in New York, swigging a beer while he waited on the results of his little gamble. When he felt the energy start to drain from his body, he sneered, finishing up the bottle before going to collapse on the bed.

"Knew you couldn't resist tryin' to help people, little angel," he growled in pleasure just before losing consciousness himself.

XxX

Dean comes to with a groan and a shake of his head. The last thing he remembers is shouting at Cas...and when he sees what he's woken up to, he would almost prefer that.

He's not sure where they are. All he can see is Cas, unconscious and nailed to a cross. His body trembles with every breath he fights to take.

"Cas!" he shouts, trying to run forward, to reach him, anything to stop this from happening...but just like before, he finds himself stopped. He can't get any closer

"Dean..." Cas calls out weakly, as if in a nightmare.

"Cas, I'm here! I'm right here!" he shouts, pounding his fists against whatever it is that's keeping them apart. "Just hold on!"

"Dean..." Cas whispers, his strength clearly fading. Dean can't see what does it, but something pierces the angel's side and his eyes open briefly as he screams in pain.

"Cas!" he cries out, fists pounding desperately against the invisible barrier. There has to be something he can do to stop this!

"You did this to him," a voice that sounds strangely like his own hisses in his ear. "Castiel is suffering right now, and it's all because of you. I know you've tried to tell yourself different, but the truth is...you were right in the first place. You poison everything you touch. Everything you love turns to ash because of you. Nothing that comes from you can ever be any good. Because of you, Castiel will be destroyed!"

"No! NO!" he screams. "CAS!"

"Dean!" Cas cries out, body twisting in agony. "Please...save me!"

"Cas," he whispers in anguish as he falls to his knees, hands pressed uselessly against the unseen surface while the angel's screams fill his ears.

"This is your punishment, Dean," the voice taunts him once again. "This is your Hell."

XxX