(A/N: That last chapter was pretty boring, but felt necessary. There's something missing, but I can fix that.

Thanks for reading!)

The time came at about 2 pm. The spell had been worked, both Castiel and Melissa were exhausted and somewhat cranky.

Dean had tried to get Sam and the children toss a football around, but the youngsters were more interested in throwing rocks at a tree stump behind the house.

Melissa had written down everything she could think of that Sam might need to know concerning the boys, gave him a spare key both to lock up, and just in case they had to double back for safety. She had also given him an emergency credit card she kept available with a particularly high limit, while making a crack about spur of the moment trips to Tijuana.

She had come out of the house in jeans, western boots, and a blazer over a loose blouse. She had also put on just enough make up to be noticeable.

After hugging her children, assuring them she'd be in Alabama with them as fast as possible, she put her suitcase in the back of her van.

Dean shook Sam by the shoulder. "You got this, Sammy."

Sam scoffed. "Hope so. Get there in one piece, alright?"

Dean nodded, and got into the passenger side of the minivan.

"One more hug, momma!" Johnny said, running up to her. She wrapped her arms around him, lifting him off the ground just a little. She turned to Dylan, who threw his arms around her waist, and hoisted. Just an inch or two, but she did leave the ground.

Dean watched through the window, wondering for a moment how old he would have been if he'd ever been able to lift his mother.

"Okay, I gotta go. Show Sam where I keep the ice cream..." she said, pulling Johnny into the same hug with his brother. "I love you both, very much."

Melissa got into the van, and pulled out onto the road. About a quarter of a mile from the house, Dean glanced at her, and noticed the tears on her cheeks. He looked away, quickly, considering what he could say to try to make it better.

He could describe the bunker, and how she'd be safe there, tell her that he knew Sam would keep her kids safe, or ask about how she had met Castiel... but nothing seemed to fit.

Dean started to get angry with his inability to find the right thing to say, and compulsively reached for the radio.

Classical music came through the speakers at a far clearer tone than he was used to. It was deep tones, a slow beat, and heavy on the cellos. A violin came into it with a weeping tune.

"Not that." Melissa said, wiping at her cheek and sniffling.

"Okay," Dean said, and pressed a preset button. He hadn't heard this before, but it didn't suck. "This okay?"

She nodded. "We'll be in Waco in about an hour, and Dallas in about two and a half. I need to stop at the corporate offices, it should only take a few minutes."

Dean smiled, "Wow, you've got a vegetable garden and a barn, and corporate offices... You really have it all, huh?"

"I want my kids to have balance, like I did."

"No, no, I get it. And they seem really great, you know. You must be a good mom. Kids don't turn out that cool and easy going if they have problems at home."

Melissa didn't answer. When the song ended, commercials came on. Dean hit another preset. He recognized a few notes as Ramble On, and left it.

Dean pulled out his phone, having nothing to do with his hands.

He selected 'Cas' and sent a text. 'Is it following us?'

He put his phone down, trying to seem cool, glancing at Melissa. He felt strange, knowing they were deliberately trying to get something large and dangerous to come after her.

His phone chirped. Castiel had responded, 'Yes, but it is moving slowly. We will wait a while longer.'

Dean wasn't sure when he nodded off, but he woke up to the familiar sound of rustling feathers.

Melissa immediately asked about her children.

"They're fine, the danger is following you, and didn't notice them leaving, but it seems to be picking up speed." Castiel responded.

Dean looked for a mile marker. "Where are we at?"

"Almost to Waxahachie." Melissa answered.

Dean nodded and put his head back down against the head rest.

Zzzzz

Sam decided to try to avoid the traffic in Houston, and pulled into a diner in Conroe. The children had been talking about food, and it was attached to a gas station. "You guys hungry? I bet this place is good."

Dylan unbuckled and leaned over the back of the front seat. "How can you tell?"

Sam shrugged. "Look, they have a cartoon chef on the window. That means the food is good."

Dylan looked skeptical.

Johnny bounced out of his seat, "I wanna grilled cheese sandwich!"

When Sam finally got them corralled into a booth, the waitress came by with a menu, two kids menus, and some crayons.

"Okay, let's see what they got. Can you guys read yet?"

"I can read. Johnny doesn't know how." Dylan replied.

"Yeah, I can!" Sam worried he would be heard through the whole diner, and tried to shush him.

"But Dylan said I don't know how to read. He's lying!"

"Okay, you can read, here, read your menu, that'll show him, then we won't have to yell about it." Sam said quickly.

Johnny opened up his menu, and began to list foods. Some were not actually listed. "Good, that's really good reading, Johnny. So, you want grilled cheese? What else?"

"Cake."

"I meant like a vegetable?"

"Carrot cake."

"Okay." Sam said, "I'm going to get the grilled chicken and a salad, and if you get, like, some broccoli, or potatoes with the grilled cheese, then cake would be fine."

Dylan huffed. "If you eat vegetables, you don't have room for cake."

The waitress came back with their drinks. "They are so cute! What grades are they in?"

Sam nearly panicked. Thankfully Johnny mispronounced kindergarten just well enough to distract her. The thought suddenly crossed Sam's mind that here he was in the middle of nowhere with two kids who weren't his own, attempting to book it across state lines. And he had met them the day before yesterday.

Yep, that didn't sound suspicious at all.

Castiel shifted in the middle row of the minivan, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't horrible, but it certainly wasn't flying. Not that he minded, as Melissa and Dean were both there, and that was a comforting thought. He looked at Dean, who was very still, his breathing deep and even with sleep.

Melissa continued to drive. They were in Dallas now, and she pulled into an underground garage below the Faulkner Corporation offices. She pulled into a reserved spot, hanging a placard from the rear view mirror.

She pulled down her visor, opening a small mirror and repaired the damage tears had done to her makeup.

Castiel watched her small, perfectionist movements. She never seemed to notice, and unless and until she did, he would observe. She would brush her hair, tie it back or pin it up, or perhaps just remove the snarls before she went to sleep. Her eye makeup, a delicate blending of colors, or her lipstick, one he truly preferred to see applied... there was something about the way she did these things, it felt as though it should have been done in private, just between her and her mirror, that made his heart race. As if the only decent behavior would be to look away, and so he followed her every move... Certainly if his gaze bothered her, she would have asked- no, told him to look away, or leave. Otherwise, he concluded, she either didn't mind, didn't notice, or secretly enjoyed his watchful gaze. The last option intrigued him.

She closed the mirror, and put her concealer back into her purse, then reached over to smack Dean lightly on the upper arm. "You coming, or you want to sit in the van?"

"No, no, I'm good. I'm with you. What are we doing?"

"Guardianship papers. That way, if I don't make it to Alabama, my brother won't have any trouble proving the kids are supposed to be in his care. Makes things easier for school, doctor's visits, that kind of thing. Also gives him complete control of the corporation, should my dead body turn up."

Dean was still a little groggy from the nap, but suddenly had an intense urge to hug her, and tell her she was going to be fine. He shut that shit down immediately. "Okay, well, anything you need to do, we're with you. Right, Cas?"

Castiel's eyes landed distractedly on Dean's face. "Yes, we're with you."

Sam felt exhausted. Mentally he compared the argument concerning the vegetables to the act of exorcism. He wasn't sure which one was more taxing. He had convinced the children that vegetables were the reason he was so 'big and strong,' resulting in a few bites from each of them. Still, very tiring.

He walked them to the door of the diner, at which point they took off running around the corner of the building to the place where he had parked the Impala. He hurried to catch up, but the moment he rounded the corner, he heard a familiar voice say a few familiar words, in a familiar accent, chilling him to the bone.

"Hello, little boys..."

Finally back in the parking garage, Melissa shed her blazer right before she got in the van. Dean was surprised that without the blazer and couple of hairpins, she suddenly went back to looking like herself. The same caring, innocent person he had grabbed by the mouth, placing a gun to her head just two days ago.

She threw the blazer into the back seat as she got in, just-past-shoulder-length hair giving a swing.

"North, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, head for Kansas. Cas," he said, turning to where Castiel was settling himself, "How much distance did this stop cost us?"

"Not much, it's still moving slowly, but it is aware of where we are."

"Okay, maybe we should put a few miles behind us before we find a spot to stop for the night." Dean replied.

"We're not going to drive straight through?" Melissa asked.

"Well, we could, I wasn't sure you'd be up to it. Tell you what, head north and when you get tired, we'll switch." Dean said.

Melissa shrugged, not answering. If Dean had to hazard a guess, he would suppose she was already very tired. He wasn't sure she had much more in her.

"Boys, get straight into the car, don't talk to him. He's dangerous."

"Sam, please. If I were going to do anything to these delightful darlings, I would have done it when you left the table to powder your nose." Crowley said. "Really, it's a wonder they were still there when you came back. Children so precious as these must be protected ever so carefully."

He held out a tootsie pop for each of them. Sam stepped forward, "No. Don't trust him, get in the car, now."

Sam didn't like hearing a demanding order coming out of his mouth. He sounded just like his father. Thankfully, the voice that bothered him so much seemed to be effective, and the children scrambled past Crowley, buckling into their seats and watching urgently through the window.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam asked directly.

"To keep my throne." Crowley emphasized each word. "Can't do that if Lucifer comes out to play. These dear poppets need to be kept under lock and key. The boot might be safer for them, if that demon trap is still intact."

Sam looked confused.

"These two brothers carry Winchester blood, and Campbell blood. Who might cross your moosey mind as wanting to gain hold of them?"

It clicked. "Anyone wanting to open the cage and try again." Sam gasped. "Who?"

"A few dissenting malcontents from each faction, possibly working together. I know they're chasing mummy dearest, but if they figure it out, they'll be after the children straight away. So get them out of here. And know this: should your mother-quest plan fail, I'll be coming for the children myself." Crowley stated, then vanished.

Sam jumped into the driver's seat, pulling out of the parking lot as fast as he could. He pulled out his phone. At the risk of the children hearing, he used voice-to-text to send Dean a message.

Dean's phone chirped once again. 'Crowley says dissenters want them for another go at a final battle. Move fast.'

"Melissa... you about ready for some dinner?" Dean tried to fake a yawn.

"I'm not really hungry." Melissa said quietly. She probably had a lot on her mind.

"Maybe we get some drive-thru, and I'll take over for a while. You stop driving for a bit, you might be ready to eat." Dean hoped he sounded convincing.

(A/N, again: Omg, Crowley. Love that character. Hope I got his words right. One more bit I really, really want him for, after that, he might get out back in the toy box. We'll see.)