Crowley had disappeared by the time Rebecca came down the stairs.

"Who were you talking to?" she asked, walking over to him. She was still wearing the previous day's clothes.

"No one." Dean led her back to the stairs so she wouldn't start asking about the odd collection of summoning ingredients still gathered on the floor.

"Yes, you were. I heard you talking to a man."

"You can't know everything, Rebecca," Dean told her. "It's not safe." She pouted for a second then sighed and flopped into a chair.

"I'm hungry." Dean stared at her – through her really – for a moment. All he wanted to do was sit down alone with his bottle of whiskey and every page of lore they had on Beelzebub. He would even be grateful for the head-splitting pain if it meant he could talk to Sam. His brother was so much better at stuff like this. But Dean's head was only throbbing dully from earlier; Sam wasn't around. Meanwhile, there was a thirteen-year-old child looking up at him and she was hungry. Dean had to feed his daughter.

"Okay, let's see what's in the kitchen." Rebecca took a seat at the table pushed up against the wall of the kitchen. It looked more like the kitchen of a restaurant than it did of someone's house. Everything was much bigger than at home. The fridge looked like Dean could easily fit right into it and the stove had eight burners.

"What about Mac and Cheese?" Dean said, holding up a box of noodles. Rebecca wrinkled her nose.

"That's not breakfast food." Dean held back a sigh.

"How about pop-tarts?" Her eyes brightened; her mom never let her have pop-tarts. She said they would rot Rebecca's teeth out of her head.

"Okay."

While they were waiting for the toaster to do it's job, Rebecca noticed the strand of cloth tied around Dean's forearm and she moved over to him, pointing.

"What happened?"

"It's nothing," he said. He couldn't even feel it anymore. His stepdaughter looked at him with a mixed expression, some curiosity, some annoyance, still a flicker of fear.

"You keep a lot of secrets," she stated. It wasn't exactly an accusation but it made Dean uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well, one day you're going to have secrets of your own and you won't want someone poking around asking about them." Rebecca went quiet and Dean felt the guilt bubble up in him again and wished for the hundredth time she wasn't here. Not because he didn't love her but because she was making things ten times more complicated than they should be.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I do have a lot of secrets."

"Castiel says you usually have good reasons for your secrets," Rebecca said softly, staring at her hands, which were folded on the counter in front of him.

"Cas said that?" The toaster dinged and the pop-tarts flew up, their golden crust filling the air with the scent of warm sugar. Dean handed Rebecca the pastry and opened another packet for himself. Maybe the sugar would help the lingering headache. Plus he could still feel the effects of the whiskey; that had not been a smart decision.

"Yeah. He's pretty weird, you know?"

"I know."

"Is he really an angel?"

"Yeah." She bit into her breakfast and chewed, looking thoughtful and not nearly as scared as she had a few hours ago. She was settled into one of the stools but her legs swung back and forth as she was too short to reach the ground.

"What's going to happen now?" she asked after a few minutes. "What are we going to do?" Dean wanted to sigh and run a hand over his face at the question but he kept still.

"I'm going to start reading about the guy who has your mom and sister."

"You know who it is?" Rebecca looked surprised; as far as she knew, Dean hadn't been out of the bunker all morning or talked to anyone except that guy she had heard downstairs.

"Maybe. I have to read and find out."

"Read what?" He shook his head at her, just the shadow of a smile pulling at his lips.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"That's what Castiel said." Dean actually chuckled at that. If the angel was confused by full-grown Hunters, he had know idea how Cas would handle a petulant teenager. It had taken Dean a while himself to get used to living with one. Living with regular humans in general had been a feat in itself.

The two of them finished their breakfast and then wandered back into the main room where Dean started pulling books off the shelves. Anything that had to do with demons, he piled into stacks on one of the tables. He looked up a few minutes later to find Rebecca thumbing through some pages.

"You should not be looking at that," he said, shutting the book. "Go change your clothes or something. Take a shower. Brush your teeth."

"I want to help," she all but whined.

"This isn't something you can help with. You've got to let me handle it." Just then, Kevin walked back into the room and took in the scene with understanding.

"Let Dean work, okay?" the Prophet said. "Or else he's going to get all grumpy. C'mon, I'll show where the showers and see if I can rustle up some extra shampoo." Rebecca allowed Kevin to lead her out of the room but tossed a glance over her shoulder. Dean was back at the bookshelves, running a hand over spines and murmuring to himself.

Kevin showed back up after about ten minutes and sat across from Dean who was seated at the table, flipping through a leatherbound journal.

"What's the deal?" he asked. Dean glanced up.

"You got her settled?"

"Yeah, she's taking a shower but I'm sure she'll be back out soon with more questions."

"I don't exactly have answers at this point," Dean said.

"What do you know? You were talking to Crowley, right?" Kevin smirked when Dean looked surprised. "Hey that guy held me prisoner for a long time; I can sense when he's around. What did he say?" Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"There's some spat going down in Hell, someone's trying to take over."

"I thought Lucifer was still locked up."

"Not Lucifer. A demon named Beelzebub." Kevin's eyes widened at the name. "You know him?"

"I mean, not personally, but I've heard of him. The demon of all demons."

"Awesome."

"So what does that have to do with your family?" Dean shifted in his chair, waiting for Kevin to put it together. "Dean," he said slowly, a few moments later. "Are you saying that this Beelzebub dude has your family?"

"That's what Crowley seems to think." Kevin let out a rush of air, going limp against the back of his chair.

"This is seriously bad news."

"Tell me about it."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Working on it," Dean grunted, leaning back over his book. Kevin reached into the pile and pulled out one of his own, opening it over his knees, which were propped up on the table's edge. He read for about ten minutes before speaking again.

"Do you even know where to start looking?"

"No. I figure we have to try and summon him. Right?"

"I guess," Kevin said but the hesitation in his voice was obvious. "If you think that's a good idea."

"Not a good idea," Dean almost snapped. "But it's all I have." Why was everyone being so difficult? Didn't they get he was trying his best but literally had nothing to go on?

"Crowley said something about flies," he told Kevin. "That mean anything to you?" Kevin cocked his head and flapped his arms at his sides.

"Fly like a bird?" Dean rolled his eyes but shrugged.

"Or like an angel."

"So we think he was a fallen angel?" Dean shrugged again.

"Crowley said he was Lucifer's big brother so I'm assuming so."

"We should ask Cas." Kevin put the book on the table and twisted in his chair, craning his neck to find the angel. "Where is Cas by the way?"

"Took off." Kevin frowned. That didn't seem very Cas-like. Then again, Cas hadn't exactly been acting like Cas the last couple years. Dean was purposefully not meeting his eyes so Kevin assumed something had gone down between them while Crowley was around. That wasn't good. The Prophet knew they needed someone else on their side and the angel would have been a powerful ally at the very least.

"I'm sure he'll be back." Dean said nothing and the two of them returned to reading. Rebecca came out a half hour later and refused to look at Dean, going instead over to the bookshelves and plucking one from its perch. When she sat down next to Dean and put her feet up on the table, Dean glanced over and his expression darkened.

"What did I tell you?" She scowled and held up the book for him to inspect.

"Chill. It's a novel by Charles Dickens."

"What?" If possible, her frown got deeper.

"A normal book. Is it okay if I read some nineteenth century British literature?" she asked sarcastically. Dean blinked.

"Uh, yeah sure. I didn't know you liked that stuff." Her only response was to open the old book and start reading and Dean went back to his research. The three of them stayed there until the afternoon, each fidgeting and getting up to stretch their legs occasionally. At some point, Kevin took Rebecca to the kitchen to get lunch and brought a sandwich out to Dean who ignored it.

"You should eat," the Prophet said but turned away when Dean ignored him.

"Do you have anything fun to do here?" Rebecca asked after lunch. She'd gotten a good way through her book but it was hard for the normally active girl to just sit there. Right about this time she would be at swim practice after a long day at school. They had a meet next week and she shuddered to think what her coach would say if she didn't show up for it.

"Describe fun," Dean said, not taking his eyes off the book in front of him. It was his seventh one of scanning and there was nothing. All the high and mighty angel-demon stuff was about Lucifer. Nothing about an older brother. Maybe they were on the totally wrong track.

"I don't know. I'm just so bored. Can I have my phone back?"

"No."

"Kevin said there's like a bubble over this place so no one can track me." Dean finally looked up.

"I'm sorry, we just can't risk it. Until I know exactly what we're dealing with, we have to be extra careful. The young girl nodded and bit her lip, glancing away. She was trying really hard not to think about her mom and little sister locked with some evil men and for the most part, distracting herself had worked, but she could only go so long pretending nothing was wrong. This was not some random vacation. Her family was in danger.

"I'm going to my room," she announced and slid out of Dean's view. He stared after her for a minute and then went back to reading. Whatever problems Rebecca had, he could deal with them later. She wasn't going anywhere.

"She's upset, Dean," Kevin said a minute later.

"I know."

"Aren't you going to talk to her?"

"And tell her what? That I think there's a war going on in Hell and that the worst demon in the world kidnapped her family?"

"Well," Kevin said, eyebrows raised. "I wouldn't put it exactly like that." Dean snorted and buried his head back in the pages.

"Hey!" he said a minute later, standing abruptly. "I think I found something." Kevin hurried to the other side of the table and stared at the writing above Dean's finger. What he read wasn't encouraging.

"The original fallen angel? I thought that was Lucifer?"

"Guess not. I suppose that means he's the original demon. The first demon." Something inside Dean was terrified at that thought. The alpha demon. That was about as bad as it got. What was Dean supposed to do against something like that?

"So why did he fall?" Kevin wanted to know. There wasn't not much there – only a paragraph – but he could feel the excitement and hope coming off Dean in waves.

"It doesn't say. Maybe God cast him out like Lucifer. Wouldn't be the first time."

"He must have done some bad shit," Kevin said, sitting down again, feeling just as defeated as he had two minutes ago. Not Dean. He was practically bouncing around the bookshelves, looking for something that might connect him to this original demon. The original demon.

"I don't care what he did," Dean said, adding another book to the stack resting in one arm. "I want to know how to take him out."

"That's your plan? To kill him?" Dean stopped and stared at Kevin who was looking a different kind of incredulous.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Dean said, as if the thought to do anything else hadn't even crossed his mind. He hunted things. He killed things. It's just what he did. This wasn't any different. "We got Lucifer, didn't we?" Kevin shook his head at that statement.

"First of all, you didn't kill Lucifer. You locked him in a cellblock in Hell. And second of all, you had help on that one. A lot of help."

Sam.

Because really, it hadn't been Dean who pushed Lucifer over the cliff. It was Sam. Dean had just been along for the ride while his little brother took the fall. Literally.

"Oh no," Kevin said, seeing something change inside the Hunter. His spine straightened and his shoulders grew broader if possible and when he looked up, there was something dangerous brewing in his eyes.

"If I have to kill myself to make them safe, I will," Dean said and when the words left his lips for the open air, he knew that he'd never said anything truer. "Kevin, maybe this is what I'm meant to do. No, don't look at me like that, I'm being serious. My parents are gone. My brother is gone. Look, I have no one left."

Kevin understood where Dean was coming from. He understood that Dean would always be a Hunter first, a man second. There would always be a part of him – a fucking large part of him – that wanted to put his life on the line every damn second of the day. Dean wasn't happy unless he was hurting. That's just the way it was and Kevin knew that. He didn't take offense. The man in front of him had been through so much in his life, it was amazing he had anything left to give at all, any blood left to bleed. So what he was doing was trying to get through the rest of his life the only way he knew how.

But just because Kevin understood didn't mean that the child standing in the doorway to the room did. Both men heard her small intake of breath at Dean's words, watched her face turn from shocked to hurt to furious. Dean realized his mistake too late.

"You're a jackass," she said, the words vibrating with anger. "You're such a jackass." She took a step back when Dean came toward her. "Don't even think about coming near me. Clearly, I'm nothing to you. You're probably not even really looking for them, are you?" When Dean opened his mouth to calm her down, she shook her head. "Don't even try, Dean. You can have your secrets but stop pretending you actually like me. I don't need any more bullshit in my life." She darted out of the room, leaving Dean and Kevin wide-eyed at the outburst.

"Does she – does she do that often?" Kevin asked. The only experience he had with teenage girls was from when he was a teenage boy and he didn't remember them being quite that vicious. Or having that kind of mouth on them.

But Dean didn't answer; he was busy swaying where he stood.

"Dean? You okay?"

"Yeah," he finally grunted. "I think Sam wants to talk." If that's what it meant when his head felt like it was soaked in kerosene and lit on fire.

"What?" Kevin didn't know about spirit-Sam yet and Dean was in no condition to tell him.

"I'll be back in a bit," Dean said before getting to his own room as fast as possible. He made it to the bed just before his knees buckled but this time he was expecting it and instead of trying to fight it, Dean opened the door to the pain, letting it carry him on a wave of unconsciousness far quicker than before.

Sam was waiting for him, standing at the window expectantly when Dean materialized across the room.

"You called?" Dean said hoarsely, stumbling his first step but getting his balance back within a few seconds.

"Uh, yeah," Sam said as if it were the obvious answer. "I've been waiting for you to tell me what's going on."

"Can't you just like, see it?" Dean said.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm just sitting here? Minding my own business. I can't see or hear anything."

"That has got to be so boring," Dean said, getting off track for a moment. "You would rather sit in my brain doing nothing than be up in Heaven and all it's glory and shit?"

"Just tell me what Crowley said," his brother answered, ignoring the question. Dean took a seat on one of the beds, facing his brother.

"There's a war going on in Hell. A demon named Beelzebub is trying to unseat Crowley from the throne." Sam started pacing, a habit he had carried from life to death, apparently. He always did it when he was thinking.

"Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Because you've probably heard it before. He's Lucifer's big brother." Sam stopped pacing for a moment to stare at Dean, just now noticing the fatigue lines creasing his older brother's face. While Sam would forever be age thirty-three – the age he died at – Dean was getting older. He could see it in his brother's expression, in his posture, even the way he spoke. There were a lot more than four years separating them now.

"He's the original demon, isn't he?" Sam said. "I read about him somewhere once."

"Of course you did," muttered Dean, thinking of all those hours he had just devoted to finding out something his brother already knew. "But yeah, he's bad news."

"So this demon – Beelzebub – what does he have to do with Liz and Kayleigh?" Unlike with Kevin, Dean didn't give Sam enough time to figure it out by himself.

"Beelzebub's demons have them. At least that's what Crowley said." Dean hesitated. "And I don't think he was lying."

"Now you're trusting Crowley?" Sam's voice was full of doubt and it made Dean angry.

"Not like I have a lot of choices here, Sam. I'm pretty much by myself on this one." It was almost the same thing he had said to Kevin and the same flicker of hurt crossed his brother's eyes. This time, Dean noticed. "You know what I mean." His brother was quiet for a moment and then said,

"And your next move is to do what? Track demonic omens?"

"'I'm looking for a way to summon him."

"You're doing what?" Dean didn't if it was because he hadn't seen Sam in five years and had forgotten what his brother was like or if it was some spirit thing but Sam's demeanor changed in a split second. His nostrils flared and he walked right up to Dean, leaning in until he was only a foot away from his brother. "Dean, that's suicide." Dean didn't deny it. "You aren't doing it."

"Yes I am."

"That is the worst possible plan in the world!" Sam cried, throwing his hands up in the air and almost smacking Dean in the process. The elder Winchester finally took a step back but Sam didn't seem to notice. "You aren't thinking clearly. We can come up with a new plan. A better plan."

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean said sharply, using the nickname for the first time. "What would that be? Huh?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe you should give me more than thirty seconds to think about it," Sam snapped back. They each took a breath at the same time and then Sam turned away from Dean, running his hand through his hair as he thought it over.

"Did Crowley say anything else?" he asked. "Anything that might be useful."

"Yeah. Flies. That was it, that was his hint. One word. But we already figured out it means angel and we all know that Beelzebub was the original fallen angel so I don't think that's going -," he broke off as Sam spun his computer to face him and, leaning over the table, started typing furiously. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up for a second," Sam said and Dean was so taken aback at being ordered around that he actually kept quiet. But only for about a minute and then he was leaning over Sam's giant shoulder, trying to see around his brother. Sam was scrolling through a page on demonology and as far as Dean could tell, it didn't say anything they didn't already know. He tried again.

"Sam, I told you. He was – is – Lucifer's big brother and an angel that–"

"It doesn't mean angel," Sam interrupted. "That's not what Crowley meant."

"What are you talking about?"

"Here," Sam said, pointing to the screen and starting to read, "Beelzebub, the first fallen angel is thought to be one of the original demons and is represented in much folklore by a constant presence of flies."

Represented in much folklore by a constant presence of flies.

The last word smacked into Dean with the weight of a sledgehammer. Not wings or angel flies. Flies like insects.

"You know Lord of the Flies?" Sam asked, enthusiasm spilling out of him. He was like an overexcited puppy latching onto a bone.

"No? Is that some kind of weird porn?" Sam stopped in his scrolling to give Dean an exasperated look and it was so familiar, such a playful gesture that Dean had seen a million times that his heart actually ached and a thrill ran down his spine because he was here, hunting with Sam. He tried to push the feeling down and away.

"No, it's a book. Didn't you have to read it in school? I read it in like three different grades…" His voice trailed off when all Dean did was raise an eyebrow.

"Sam if you think I read a single one of those dumb books-"

"Okay never mind," Sam said. "Good thing at least one of us did our homework. Anyway, Lord of the Flies is a book about these kids who get deserted on an island and they start going insane and put this pig's head on a stick –,"

"Sam," Dean interrupted. "Spare me the English lecture and get to the point."

"Lord of the Fliesis a literal interpretation of the name Beelzebub."

"What does that mean for us?" Dean asked, moving away from the computer and sitting across from Sam. He wondered if the mini fridge in the corner held anything stronger than water. If Sam was any good at this spirit stuff, he could have conjured Dean up a nice big drink right about then.

"I don't know," Sam said, brows knitted in concentration as he kept reading. "If this guy is around, maybe flies could be an omen. Lord of the Flies right? So I bet they swarm around him when he's on Earth. That's what happened in the book at least."

"There's actually a book written about the original demon that they encourage kids to read?" Dean asked. "The public school system is more terrible than I thought."

"The pig's head on the stake represents Beelzebub and by the end of the book, it's all gross and has a cloud of flies around it."

"Great. So now we're going off a children's book."

"It's all we have so far." The collective 'we' slid out of Sam's mouth without him realizing it and Dean just looked at his brother – his dead brother – for a beat longer than necessary.

"I need to go back," Dean said. "Clue everyone in about all this stuff. Find out where Cas is." Just as Sam had grown nervous about Castiel's name before, his face took on a wary expression at the mention of the angel.

"Where's Cas?" he asked. Dean shrugged, standing and stretching, not noticing his brother's discomfort.

"Took off. He's being real bitchy lately. I don't know, man."

"Be careful," Sam said. "I don't think Cas is the same person you left behind." Dean bristled at the word choice.

"I didn't leave him behind. We agreed it was safer for both of us not to be in contact." Sam didn't say anything, just stared at Dean with wide eyes and when Dean went to continue, he found himself unable to speak and just then the floor rolled beneath him, tossing him to his knees, and he knew enough by now just to shut his eyes and wait for it all to be over.

xxx

Dean didn't have to search long for Castiel; the angel was waiting at the foot of Dean's bed when he woke up, rubbing at what seemed like an infinite headache. He wondered if it was ever going to go away or if he should just get used to the perpetual throbbing.

"Dean." The Hunter groaned and squinted at the figure of his once-now-maybe friend.

"Still doing the creepy staring thing while I'm asleep, Cas?" Dean said, clearing his throat of the hoarse words.

"You weren't sleeping."

"Nope," Dean said. "I don't seem to do that anymore." Cas narrowed his eyes as Dean bent to retie a shoelace.

"You should not be indulging your brother's spirit," the angel said. "It's not safe." Dean turned his head upwards, hands still fumbling with his laces.

"What do you know about it?"

"No more than you do other than it is not safe."

"Well," Dean said, standing up. "Right now Sam is the only one coming up with useful information. It's not like you've been very helpful." He brushed past the angel to head back to his books and Castiel followed, trailing too closely behind.

"I got you out of your house." Dean whirled around, his expression bordering on menacing.

"No. You took me out of my house against my will. You left my wife and child behind." Old Cas might have backed down, might have cocked his head to the side and reconsidered what he'd just said, but this Cas, Dean was learning, liked to argue and did not like to be wrong.

"There were demons coming to your house. I saved who I could at the time. Would you have preferred to be taken? You and your other child who is now safe?" Dean couldn't help thinking that if the demons had gotten him, gotten him and kept him alive, at least he would know whom he was dealing with. Instead, all he got was nondescript phone calls and clues that involved a children's story and insects.

"What do you know about Beelzebub?" Dean asked, not answering Castiel's question. This time, Cas blinked but then smoothed out his expression, which if Dean hadn't known Cas better, would have called frightened. But Cas didn't get frightened.

"Only that he's the most powerful demon there is."

"How can he be more powerful than Lucifer?" Dean demanded. "If we can lock up the Devil, surely we can lock up this guy. Sam called him the Lord of the Flies or something."

"Yes. He has many names and titles. That is one of them."

"And he was an angel?" Dean asked not waiting for Cas to answer his other question.

"Is."

"What? I thought you just called him a demon." Cas looked Dean dead in the eye and said,

"That's what makes him so dangerous. He's both."

A/N: Unfortunately guys, this is the last chapter for a while. It's more difficult than I thought it be trying to work on two major fics at once plus actually have a life so I'm gonna focus on How Far We've Come for the time being. I am not abandoning this story. I promise I will come back to it; I just want to give it the time it deserves and not half-ass things. So keep following and I'll keep you updated!