In the Lethe Chapter 13: The Calm, a supernatural fanfic

Summary: As Sam begins to make his final decision, Kevin thinks he can find a cure for the power slowly killing him. No longer heeding Sheol's warnings, Lucifer knows it is time to use his own plans for revenge while the angels remaining on Earth try to find hope in following God's Will.

Part 12: The Calm (When Demons Plan)

Grainy and distorted images flickered onto the white screen, running together in a loop as the projector struggled to play the old film reel. With no sound and scratchy images, the film itself was hard to watch. The black and white film was so old that it was in bad shape, blurring the people who were moving around on the screen.

No one watching cared. They were almost entranced by what the film was about, not the condition it was in.

"That's our dungeon," Dean muttered and Sam nodded.

Linda Tran gave them both a look. "You have a dungeon."

"Well…" Dean couldn't hide his almost smarmy grin.

"Shh." Kevin was trying to fix the reel but broke his concentration to glare at them. Dean shrugged and looked back up at the screen.

A woman was chained into the centre of the dungeon room, similar to how they had changed Crowley at one time. Bent awkwardly over at the waist so her forehead pressed to the ground with her arms anchored behind her back, it looked submissive and quiet. But the grainy images couldn't hide the mass cuts and deeper wounds that lacerated her bare back. Her clothing was in strips and she was shaking violently.

"What the hell did they do to her?" Sam asked.

The camera turned to face a sour-faced older man, a priest by the sight of his white collar and black starched suit, and he was speaking at it. Whoever held the camera had a shaky hand and the lack of sound was becoming frustrating the longer he seemed to talk. The woman behind him was beginning to move a little, pulling at the chains that bound her to the ground.

Dean turned in his chair a little and looked at Kevin. The prophet smacked the side of the projector repeatedly. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat while Linda sighed and shook her head.

"Not my fault," Kevin muttered, "you guys got crappy equipment."

On the other side, ignoring the humans, Castiel stared at Meg as he sat behind her. The demon was trying to hide her own interest but she was unable to keep from glancing at the white sheet they'd hung up to be a screen. She'd been quiet since they'd left the demon cell. Every now and then, he caught sight of her touching her stomach or clenching her fingers into fists. There was a violence brewing in her but from what he wasn't sure.

Leaning forward, he reached out to touch her shoulder and saw her flinch as her head turned a little towards him.

"I'm fine," she muttered and he leaned back, watching her carefully.

"Damn it, come on!" Kevin gave the projector a smack and Castiel sighed, reaching across the table. His fingers brushing the machine and it popped and cracked for a moment, the reel sounding like it was about to explode into flames. It stopped and then restarted on its own.

"…We've had some success," the priest's nasally high voice roared to life and everyone jumped, Sam nearly toppling over in his chair.

"Jesus, Kev!" Dean rubbed at his ear.

"Like I knew that would happen!" Kevin turned the volume down. "But thanks, Cas."

The angel nodded and turned back around.

"… The process of curing demons was not taken lightly. We needed to find a way to save the souls trapped in the vessel. The ones the demons eat away, but we need to still manage to also save the demon's soul. In essence, they become one if we can. A twining of souls."

"Poetic," Sam muttered.

In front of Castiel , Meg propped her boots up on the table and scooted down in her chair. But both Dean and Castiel noticed the way she put her hands on her stomach. Her head dropped a little to hide her expression.

The priest came into focus and his face was worn into exhausted lines, blood and bruises decorating his skin. There were carved scars on his cheeks, Glasgow-style, and his accent was thick. But more disturbing than the scars was the strange light in his eyes that even black and white film could not hide. Religious fervour glowed from him.

"I was instructed to aide the Men of Letters. When we began this experiment six hours ago, it was based on the notes of Thomas the Elder in the Crusades. What the notes failed to reveal, what the scholars have uncovered, was that Belial, the demon he healed, killed Thomas' own brother shortly after. It was only by having him forced to labour, to let him kill others as he did best, that the Men of Letters could control him. They bound him to another soul to force him to their biddings. He was kept as an example against the demons but never released."

The film turned back to the chained woman and this time the loud growls and curses in Latin could be heard. Meg and Castiel could understand them and when Dean glanced at the angel, he waved his hand.

"She's calling out to her own kind."

"Right."

Meg was no longer hiding her interest. She wore it openly for all of them to see but as Dean glanced at her upturned face, he wondered what had put such an uncomfortable look there. As if watching this was hurting her.

The priest's voice was projected as he approached the demon. "I've tried, repeatedly. This one's brother was cleansed, we believe, before we were forced to kill him. Though the demon taint is nearly gone from this one as well, there is something else I didn't quite remember about demons."

The Winchesters leaned forward but Meg stayed still.

Behind her, Castiel wondered at the tension in her. As if she'd expected this.

"I forgot." The priest drew a shaky breath and the hand-reel turned to face the bloodied bodies of several men on the floor. "That demons come from humans."

His voice choked. "And that some men can be born evil. I lost my brothers to this. When we scrubbed the demon's surface clean… all we did was remove the darkness that it gained. Not what the demon was."

He cleared his throat. "The other demon was destroyed and sent back to the Pit, we hope. Now we begin again for a new purpose."

Meg shuddered.

"Through long hours of purification, the demon is nearly ready to be remade. Its blood is close to pure but not so pure this thing can't be burned with holy water." To demonstrate, he splashed a vial at her and the demon's howling roared through the archives. Castiel looked away and saw Sam watching with open fascination.

"But we've managed to come up with a use for this demon. The demon's soul is still evident, mixed purely with the darkness. Now that it has been nearly purified, its blood is still of value. Not just as a stimulant but for healing." Approaching her, the priest slapped the demon down with the back of his hand. She sprawled down, whimpering in pain, and he knelt on her back. They could just make out the faint curl of a smile on his face as he slid a needle into her neck, extracting a syringe full of blood.

"We began our process at the same time one of our Hunters was afflicted with the vampiric disease and he is mid-change." The hand-reel followed him to where another man was chained in the corner. Castiel frowned and stared as the needle was plunged into his neck, the blood pumped into him. The fledgling threw its head back and hissed, exposing fangs at the priest.

"Demon's blood can act as stimulant and if properly cultivated and changed by purification, it can heal. It can reverse."

The hunter suddenly lost the fangs, slowly growing back into his human self. He stared in bewilderment at the priest and then at the demon.

The loud scratch of a chair on the tiled floor made them all jump again. Castiel realized that he'd been so lost in the implications of what the experiment meant that Meg had stood up. Meg turned around and faced Castiel, the sight of him making her jump as if she'd forgotten he was there. He stared at her, seeing something under her carefully blank expression, and she shoved by, walking back through the archives. Dean gave the angel a puzzled look and he waved his hand, telling him without words that he'd be back.

"I guess Meg didn't like the R rated version," Dean muttered as the angel disappeared. Sam nodded, still watching the screen. "Maybe it's that Nyx."

"The what?" Linda looked away from the screen to him.

"That's what they named the hell-spawn."

Kevin popped his lips and shook his head. "Thought Meg would want to see this, especially since it could end up saving her baby. Or at least being interesting"

"Yeah well." Sam's voice was sharp and jerky and he slumped down in his chair. "Maybe we're overestimating her."

Her hands shook and her eyes went black then brown out of pure anger and disgust. She'd heard the rumours of such things being done to demons. Not to say some might not deserve it, but built into her was a slight empathy for her kind. At least torture was pure, death an art. That had been something far more cruel. The demon had been begging him to let her die, had been calling for Azazel to save her, screaming out that it had not just been the blood experiment. That the Men of Letters had been doing something else to try to access more hidden knowledge than just demon's blood.

"I hate priests," she muttered as she stalked up the catwalk towards the entry. "Self-righteous, sex starved freaks."

Castiel's sudden appearance before her had her stopping mid-stride and then sighing. She should have known he'd follow her. She hadn't exactly been subtle in her disgust.

The angel looked at her and tilted his head on the side a little. "You're angry."

"You think?"

"Why?"

She stared at him. "We just watched the equivalent of a demon being a lab rat, and I'm not supposed to be a little upset?"

He shrugged. "You've not exactly been on their side lately."

"You can't tell me that what we just watched didn't smack of more evil than you expect from a priest and the Men of Letters. Or are you so totally blind to it?" She walked around him and waved her hand, headed for the escape door. Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling and then followed her.

"Like you wouldn't do the same."

She shoved open the door. "I'm a demon, Castiel. I admit to it, I don't hide behind being a priest of God and pretending to be good. That bastard liked it. You heard what the demon was saying. That this wasn't the first thing he'd done to their nest."

He huffed angrily and watched her turn around to face him. "It was an experiment. If there is a way to find a cure for Sam…"

"Using demon blood. Didn't that get him into trouble the first time? Big boy powers were too much for him." Meg shook her head. "Can you imagine if the hunters had decided to try it before? And this is the magic cure for Sam now. Great"

Castiel didn't answer, remembering Sam's obsession with demons blood, how it had changed him and warped him.

"'Course you can. There's a reason why what we are capable of is worth hiding sometimes," Meg snapped and she slammed the door shut in his face. Castiel exhaled sharply and flicked outside.

The demon was already walking away, agitation making her strides choppy. When she noticed him in front of her, she rolled her eyes and tried to brush by. He caught her arm and held her still, hooking his fingers around hers.

"This means nothing. If we can find a way…"

"Really? You don't think that the Winchesters will get it into their heads that good old Meg blood might be just as good to try? You don't think that Dean won't do anything to save his baby brother?" she snapped. "You? You'd do anything to help them."

Castiel did not flinch. "I won't let them."

"You would." Her laugh was a bit dry and held a note of hysteria. "Because in the end all it would take is Sam breaking apart."

"All we need to do is find Crowley."

"Go ahead. Where is he?" she demanded. Castiel opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. "Right. He could be anywhere. Or dead. Useless. And if you think Abaddon will leave a single demon out if she thinks you all are trying to use one, because I'm sure that news got back to her… than you're stupider than I thought. There is no way you'll get a single one."

He leaned back against the parked Impala. "You're frightened."

"Have a right to be," she said, not bothering to deny it.

Castiel looked away and up at the sky. "It's more than the blood, isn't it? It's more…" He snapped his fingers as he searched for the word. "Personal."

When he looked back down, the demon was staring at the door as if expecting Dean and Sam to charge out to grab her. She was still close enough to him that he could see the tick in her jaw when she clenched it.

"Meg?"

She started slow, fidgeting a little. "In Hell, our bodies aren't ours, our souls become part of the Pit. What we scrounge out with is precious. It's part of the reason why demons' blood is so valuable. It's not just our power there, the blood is us." Her eyes went black and she looked at him. "We're made to scream and cry and laugh and bleed and burn and there's — whatever little is, still there, that's all, that's all there is."

She gave him a pointed look. "It's all we can really own and not have torn away easily."

Castiel sighed and reached out to touch her shoulder. His thumb pressed just slightly into the old scar from an angel blade.

"We can find Crowley. He is the best choice and I don't doubt he's alive. You said so yourself more than once how hard to kill he is."

"So you want me to forget that what I just watched was disgustingly clear that they could do the same to me?

"I'm asking you to have faith."

"Amazing, that an angel would say such a thing to a demon."

The new voice made them both turn to face the surrounding woods. Stepping out from the shadows, Naomi and several other angels made imposing figures in the dim light. Meg and Castiel both moved away from the car as she walked a few steps out to face them. Her eyes were icy as they pinned Castiel in his place.

"Castiel."

Kevin clicked off the projector. "So what do you think?"

Dean rolled his head on his shoulders. "What am I supposed to think?" He sat up a bit. "That this is head and tails crazy?"

"If you can find Crowley, you can use his blood on Sam. Sort of like a therapy. "

"That sounds sexy," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. Sam made a face.

"His blood is just corrupt enough, Sam, but not so far that you'll change like Dean said you did when you were on demon's blood before," Kevin pressed. "My theory is that you have overcharged with purification. You essentially need to be… to be…"

His mother rolled her eyes. "Dirtied?"

"Kinky," Dean said winking at her. The older woman shook her head but smirked a little.

"Not helping, Dean," Sam muttered angrily.

"And the opposite of pure is demons blood," Kevin finished lamely. "There's more on the tablets than just ways of closing the Gates, you know. I think the changed blood is part of it. Not all of it."

"I'm not touching demons blood again." Sam stood up so abruptly that his chair toppled over. "I haven't decided what I'm doing yet."

"Whoa, wait!" Dean leapt up from his chair and followed him out. "What the hell are you talking about?" He caught up to him in the hall, where they couldn't be overheard. "Sam. Sam!"

The younger Winchester sighed, turned slowly, and faced him. "I'm not better, Dean. I thought I was but I'm not. I can feel it."

He reached out to touch Dean, laying his hand flat on his face and his brother jumped at how hot his skin was.

"Sam, we just have to get this cure Kevin's coming up."

"And how much am I going to have to drink if it is demon's blood?" Sam snapped. "Until my body is a vessel again perfect for Lucifer? Because we both know he is out there waiting to pounce."

"We don't know what this cure is going to take or what it will take, but Sam, it is better than watching you die for nothing."

"We were doing this to close the Gates of Hell, Dean!" he shouted. "If we don't then this is one more mission we've failed on!"

Dean took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Look, I get it. I do. You think all these trials, all of this, was a way of buying redemption. But Sam, if it is going to take your life, it's not worth it. What good is a world without demons if you can't be there to take peace from it? The world ends if we do this!"

Sam gave an almost watery chuckle as he walked off. "Least we could all find peace then."

Dean stared after him and realized why Castiel had warned him about Sam doing something foolish. Whatever he had dreamed of, with Lethe and Lucifer and that strange Sheol, had somehow made him think twice on trusting Dean to figure out a cure. Had taken away that hope.

The alarm system in the bunker suddenly began to bleep and both brothers turned towards the door. The lights inside were starting to flicker and Dean edgily looked at Sam.

"Must be something outside. Probably Cas arguing with Meg again. I'll take a look."

"Not without me you don't," Dean muttered.

Naomi folded her arms over her chest and strode out one slow step at a time. Castiel and Meg backed into one another automatically, the angel just putting his shoulder before hers as he stared at his sister. Naomi gave him a dismissive glance, one with a strange hope glinting in its depths, before she stared at Meg thoughtfully.

"So." She took another step and eyed the demon up and down. "You are the demon Castiel insisted on not killing months ago. The one due to birth an abomination."

"That's me," Meg said lightly, teeth baring in a smile. "Who're you?"

"Naomi."

"Cute. What do you want?"

"We have been looking for you." The other angels flanked her and Castiel reached back to keep Meg just a little behind him. "Since we all felt the call. Because you both had something to do with it."

He frowned, confused but Naomi was staring at Meg again. Her eyes were wide.

"Incredible. Was that what he meant?" she muttered. Her head shook and she lost the dreamy look. "By all accounts, we should have killed you for such blasphemy, demon, for the corruption of our brother. Or taken the child from you."

Meg's hand stole to her stomach protectively.

"It would be as it should be."

The demon glared at her. "I'd snap that pretty neck first."

Naomi gave her an almost appreciative grin. "Spoken like a true demon. I wonder at the attraction." Her eyes darted to Castiel. "I do wonder."

Castiel didn't flinch. "What do you want?"

"Something has happened to our family. And I want to know what hand you had to play in it." She snapped her fingers and three angels stepped forward to flank Meg and Castiel.

When the hatch door slammed open, another pair of angels disappeared and snatched the Winchesters before they moved more than a few feet from the door. The men were too stunned to struggle as the angels put them into headlocks and held them down. Dean recovered first, trying to get the upper hand by slamming his elbow into the stomach of one, while Sam struggled to slip free of the female angel holding him.

"Dean." Castiel glanced over at him. "Don't struggle. They won't hurt you or Sam."

"Feels like they might!" Dean choked out as the hold on his neck tightened.

"They won't. Not when they need you both alive." He looked back at Naomi. "Don't you?"

Her eyes glinted a little and she nodded. "But we could make them regret it."

"Too late, sister," Dean muttered.

"You have no idea how hard it was to find you all," Naomi said and she took a step towards Castiel and Meg. "Somehow, you and your demon managed to disappear off the map and if it wasn't for us tracking this stupid car-."

"Hey!" Dean snapped.

"We wouldn't have found the Winchesters either." Naomi's angel sword glinted as it fell to her hand. "So you will answer my question."

Castiel looked at her and then around at the angels. "You think that threatening them is the only way?"

"Perhaps not just them." The angel closest to Meg stepped forward. "But your demon perhaps?"

Castiel looked at the advancing angel, eyes almost glimmering with power.

"Back off. Let them go."

The demon and angel both jumped at the sheer power that rolled out of his voice. Castiel stared at Naomi and swept his arm to the side to push Meg behind him. The angels holding the Winchesters immediately dropped them and Dean smirked at one. Sam rolled his eyes and watched as Castiel left Meg to stand directly in front of Naomi. The angels looked at her nervously as her breathing quickened and her eyes widened. Meg backed up towards Dean and Sam, and they all saw the lightning streak across the sky to crash into a tree nearby, destroying it.

Dean whistled low as the blowing wind snapped around them. Naomi's eyes shone with light and against the trees a pair of wings seemed to be growing out of her back as the lightning flashed.

Castiel didn't move away and didn't move to arm himself.

"I won't say it again." He stepped forward again. "Back off," he growled, voice so low that it was almost lost as the thunder rumbled overhead.

Castiel's shoulders broadened out and the lightning that flashed across the sky highlighted a set of massive black wings in the shadows thrown on relief against the Winchesters and Meg. His face was brilliantly lit, his glowing blue eyes fixed only on the angels before him. Naomi watched the display, her eyes darting over his face in confusion. She could feel the power radiating off him as a second set of wings unfurled in the shadows as well. She knew as well as any what those could mean and she could feel it like a physical blow.

"You've changed," she whispered. "What have you done?"

"What I need to protect them." He took one slow, menacing step towards her. "Back off."

Naomi snapped her fingers and the angels behind her stepped back to a further distance, no longer side-eyeing the Winchesters or Meg but standing like soldiers at a command. Castiel's eyes, still glowing, went over them.

"Dean, Sam, go back inside," he said.

"Cas, you sure?" Sam asked, not liking the odds. Castiel didn't answer and Dean grabbed Sam.

"Think he'll be fine, Sam, let's go."

Castiel felt Meg step back behind him and with one eye on Naomi he turned to look at her. "Go."

"And leave you alone? To face them? You're nuts," Meg muttered. Castiel quirked his head at her, feeling how protective she was, and then smiled.

When he snapped his fingers, the demon was zapped out of the area and he sighed. She'd be angry at him so forcibly removing her but she'd be safe.

"You'd guard a demon, but not your own family," Naomi whispered. He let his power fade a little and sighed.

"I asked you for time."

Naomi's eyes were glimmering still. "What have you done, Castiel, with that time I gave you?" she whispered. "Our brothers, our sisters, our family! There are so many lost!"

"I tried to make it right."

"You failed, you cost our siblings their lives yet again! Do you know where they have gone?! To the Lethe! They were taken from Heaven itself!" she shouted, voice nearly hysterical. He flinched. "For the cost of saving some demon and your humans!"

"There is more than that. The Cage was opened."

"What?" Naomi, once so obedient to the Archangels, actually stepped forward. "Then Michael could…"

"Michael sought to hurt my friends." He sighed. "I took Michael's Grace unto me. There is only Lucifer left."

All the angels stepped back, low hisses of hate and distrust coming from them. "Sacrilege," one whispered.

"Lucifer has not been seen."

Naomi gave him a dry laugh. "Lucifer? Michael? That is impossible."

"Is it?" Castiel demanded. "When so many impossible things have happened just in the past month?"

"We have our orders," she began. Castiel nodded.

"I know." He waved his hand and the storm that had begun around them calmed. "And I have my cause. Let me help you."

Naomi eyed him and then looked back at the others. They were nervous but also they were strong older soldiers keen to follow the strongest angel, and she knew that it was no longer her. They craved leadership desperately to give them some direction. Castiel saw it and took another step.

"Naomi." His voice lowered. "Please. Help us find a cure for Sam Winchester. Help me protect them. If the Gates close then our Father's creation is destroyed, but if we give these humans their chance to fix their world, then we are doing our Father's will."

"His Will." Her laugh was bitter. "None of us know his will."

Castiel's eyes remained on her face. "You remember his orders to us? Before the Wars, before the Apocalypse that nearly happened."

Something flickered in her eyes, a slight understanding, and then it was gone. "Did his orders mean you betraying us all for the sake of humans and demons?"

Castiel flinched but before he could answer she was gone, taking the angels with her.

Linda followed her son into his room and calmly closed the door before turning to him. "What the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Kevin tossed the film reel on his cot and turned to face her.

"I know you're hiding something. If-"

"Let it go, Mom, I can't." He threw a book on the already loaded table. "I can't explain everything to you. I need you to trust me."

She stared at him and the long moment hung between them. "So what do we do?"

Kevin smiled. "We're going to find the cure. Like I said, there's more to these babies than just a way to close the Gates. A lot more."

He held up the tablet. "We got a lot to research and not a lot of time to do it in."

She sighed and nodded. "Fine. But I swear I'm not leaving you alone again. You get into too much trouble without me."

The Lethe had calmed itself after the sudden arrival of the angels. The waters no longer did more than beat in soft waves on the pristine white beaches and, deeper within, the forests and grassy hills provided an oddly serene safe place. The souls continued about their purification without concern to the strange creatures that wandered with them. They never really saw the angels or cared why they were there.

They didn't care for anything.

They were doused so thoroughly in Lethe's forgetfulness that they forgot why they should care. Demon souls, human souls… there was no instinct here. They were content to wander and feel the bathing warmth of Lethe.

Standing alone, Lucifer watched them all with barely controlled agitation. He needed to move, now more than ever.

Michael's return, dead and just a natural essence now, had been bitter. Michael didn't care about the Wars any longer, didn't even care that Lucifer was thirsty for revenge on Castiel. He just smiled, patted him on the back, and said that he worried too much.

As if the only thing he cared about was staying here.

It was so unlike his Michael that Lucifer had stopped visiting him in the deeper interior of Lethe. He left the angels to their own devices and watched them struggle to understand this new existence.

They were beings of faith and cause. To do nothing but stay still in one place was something too wrong for them to comprehend.

His brief visit with the seraphim had not gone well. They'd been repulsed by him still. Not one, whether they'd remembered him or not, could be bothered to listen to his words that they would be happy here as a family. Maybe they just needed time.

Wasn't it time yet?

"Sheol," Lucifer muttered, his power searching for the entity. She'd not made a single move towards ending this; there'd been no returning for Sam Winchester, no plans. Nothing. It had felt like years since they'd moved last.

His revenge on Castiel would go nowhere if she didn't release him to fight. Taking the entire world with him so that his family would realize how much better this place could be, removed from God's hypocritical rules and forcing them to serve the humans as guards.

He found her in her gazebo, reclining on a divan and staring up at the false sun. The subtle flexes of her power made the air pulse around her and she had one hand in the air, as if tracing the beams of white light she was glowing with. Every now and then, the beams would strike a nearby soul and they would disappear to be reborn.

She was apparently hard at work though she looked nearly asleep.

"Why haven't we moved yet?" he demanded as he stood over her and looked down at the entity. Her eyes opened and she wearily looked at him. There was no recognition in her bright gaze. Just a look of exhaustion and disinterest.

"Moved where?"

"Against my Father. To finish the trials and force Sam Winchester to…"

"Sam?" Her eyes half-closed. "Sam."

The Archangel stared. "The boy. The Winchester!"

"Oh, yes, of course." Her eyes closed and she stretched. "I've just been so busy."

Lucifer sat beside her and reached out with his power. Her own felt a little subdued and didn't crackle like it used to. Still far more powerful than his but she seemed less inclined to use it. There was an utter stillness about her he'd not seen since escaping the cage.

"Do you even remember why you released me? Do you remember me?"

She laughed. "Of course I do. Of course I know your name, it's… it's…." She blinked. "Hmm."

Lucifer stared at her in horror. "You aren't well. This is my Father's doing. Is that why the demon Meg was…" He stared out, realizing just what God could have done using the demon and her unborn child. "I should have killed her."

Sheol lurched herself off the couch and pinned him down to the ground before he could blink. Straddling his chest, she hissed in his face like an animal about to attack. "I may be fading slowly, Lucifer. But there is far more to me than what you see. Leave her be."

"Why?"

"Because without her everything will fall apart. And I do mean everything. Not just what I planned but what God planned as well and the cost of that is very high."

"But that abomination she's carrying," Lucifer nearly growled. "It is a cause of your fading."

"Yes."

"Then let me move. Force Sam Winchester to finish the trials. To bring this to an end."

"And allow you revenge on Castiel?" Sheol's grin turned sly. "You can be such a petty thing." She arched her back, got off of him, and sat back on the divan. He watched her stretch out slowly as she lay on her stomach. "Do what you will."

Lucifer stared at her as her eyes closed. "Really?"

"I'll stop you if I need to. It will be rather entertaining to see you pit angels against demons, to see this Castiel struggle to fight you. Though I don't think you will find it too easy for you to get to them. Sam Winchester is well guarded now and not just by his brother."

She snapped her fingers and waved him away. Lucifer was stunned and confused by her disinterest in him and the plans they had once so carefully laid. How much had been done to her to make her nearly forget?

The water lapped around her ankles, soaking the hem of her dress while larger waves began to come towards her in white frothy curls. Cold water, far too cold, but she enjoyed the way her skin tingled because of it. It gave her some sensation.

Tilting her head back, Meg stepped forward and walked until she was to her knees in the water. She continued to walk until the water rose to her waist, and then slowly began to rise around her neck, her feet no longer finding a place to stand. It was easier to swim now and she tread the water, ignoring the way the ice in the water burned her skin.

A cracking sound close by made her turn mid-tread to see ice slowly forming around her. The water was moving just under the layer of ice and she reached out to touch the ice, finding it surprisingly warm to her fingers. Something pulled at her leg and she stopped treading immediately.

It was easier to let the grip pull her under, deep into the water.

Meg swam in the dark current, let it flow around her and wrap her in a fluid embrace. The water down here was warm and she even forgot the need to breathe. There was a comfort in being so gently rocked by the current and she smiled to herself. She was forgetting. All that pain, all that suffering, gone.

Then she felt a tiny kick in her stomach and her eyes opened underwater.

She'd been forgetting.

She couldn't forget.

Hair swirling like a dark cloud around her, Meg opened her eyes and saw only darkness far below. There the water wasn't green blue but black. It was like a gaping maw, a chasm opening up to swallow her. Whatever had pulled her under the surface began to draw her down and she struggled to kick out against the riptide.

Something dark tangled around her feet and began to steadily pull at her. The comfort faded, the forgetfulness gone immediately to be replaced by fear. She screamed, swallowing lungfuls of water, and began to swim.

Her feet kicked out, the pull no longer as strong and she began to surge upwards, nearing the surface. The ice had formed over the top and she slammed her fists into it repeatedly until it began to break. The water crested around her when finally she broke free of the ice overhead, the edges cracking loudly as she rose up in an arch. Gasping desperately for breath, she threw herself to the side and clung to the ice. She scrambled to find purchase, nails digging into the ice as she tried to pull herself out.

It felt as if her lungs couldn't get enough air fast enough.

Skin frozen, she managed to pull herself further up and nearly slipped back into the water in surprise when a shadow passed over her. Her hands brushed something and she stopped struggling when she heard a soft whisper of her true name. Opening her eyes was too difficult; the light was too bright. Moaning in pain, she rested her head down on the ice and heaved for breath.

Warm fingers brushed over her forehead and smoothed down her face. A familiar, loving touch that brought with it warmth and protection.

She knew that touch.

"Meg." Castiel's voice pulled at her and she dizzily opened her eyes.

"Castiel?" she whispered and finally she looked up. Those blue eyes flicked over her and he smiled. He looked the exact same as always and he didn't seem to notice the ice he was kneeling on. He was just staring at her.

"I'm here." His fingers drifted up to her cheek and caressed her. "I'm here."

Meg closed her eyes gratefully as his touch soothed her. "I was forgetting…"

"I know."

She leaned into him a little, desperate for warmth. "I need your help to get out of here."

The caress didn't stop as he leaned down, kissing the top of her head, his other hand coming up to stroke her hair. His voice though….his voice dropped and made her realize that something was off about the way he spoke next. "I'm sorry."

"Cas?" Meg's eyes opened again and she looked up at him.

The hand on her head suddenly pushed down, shoving her back under the water. Her nails dragged on ice and she screamed, choking on water as Castiel held her under the water. Through the rippling blurs all she saw was Castiel, staring down at her, his face stoney and uncaring.

"You can forget." Sheol's low voice, a hum of comfort, slid around her.

"Meg."

She screamed again, not caring that water filled her lungs as the angel continued to hold her under.

"Meg."

But no matter how she fought, scraped her nails on his restraining hands, the ice continued to grow over her head and she couldn't break free.

As the water lapped over her head, where Castiel's arm still held her down, she screamed his name in her mind as she began to drown.

"Meg, Meg!" Castiel shook the demon hard as he held her down on the bed. He'd come into the safe-house just after Naomi left, only to find her on the floor, likely knocked out thanks to his zapping. He'd been terrified that he had actually hurt her but she'd seemed fine and she'd barely stirred when he had picked her up. Bringing her up to the loft to sleep it off had been easy until she had started to squirm and push at him.

It wasn't until she started screaming that he realized she was in the grips of an actual nightmare.

"Meg! Wake up!"

He held her face between his palms and tried to concentrate on her, feeling Nyx waking up as well. Inside Meg, that low throb of power began to actually pulse and he reached with one hand to push on her stomach. He tried to keep them both calm as he stroked Meg's face as he called to her.

"Meg, I'm here. Wake up."

The demon's eyes opened quickly, and she began gasping for air as if she'd been drowning. Her eyes drooped a little and Castiel cupped her cheek as the dream threatened to pull her back under.

"You're fine."

Shaky and disorientated, her fingers dove into her hair and pulled a little, the spark of pain seeming to orientate her. Groaning in pain, she closed her eyes again.

"Meg?" Castiel kept his voice soft and she turned her head towards him, eyes opening to reveal darkness. "What's wrong?"

When she saw him, really saw him, he wasn't ready for the way she leapt off the bed and nearly launched herself across the room away from him. There was a naked fear in her eyes that he had never seen before. She shook her head a few times and struggled to focus on him.

Finally, she relaxed and took a deep breath.

"I…" she stumbled and coughed, her throat dry from the screams.

Castiel's eyes wandered over her, seeing the way her breathing remained jerky. "What were you dreaming about?"

She shook her head, trying to clear it from the force of the dream. "I…it's not important. What happened with the angels?"

His head cocked to the side and he stood up from the bed, coming within inches of but not quite touching her. "You're trying to distract me."

"You think?" she muttered and he sighed.

"Were you dreaming of Lethe?" Hesitantly, he touched her and felt a flash of cold and fear from the remanent of the dream. "I thought you hadn't dreamt of it in a while."

"Not that I tell you. But it felt real. Too real," she whispered and the angel spread his fingers out on her cheek. She leaned into the touch, to the warmth of his vessel, and he realized that her voice was still croaking and hoarse. His thumb slid against her throat, bringing with it a slight push of power to heal the damage.

"Tell me."

Meg sighed, eyes still shut. "I was drowning. It was something I thought was real."

"It was just a dream," he muttered, wondering at the fear.

"It felt real to me." She pushed his hand away after a while and he followed her out of the bedroom. Meg was cagey again, made uncomfortable now by showing how vulnerable she'd been, and Castiel knew that the dream must have meant something more than just drowning to her. Demons wouldn't die from that.

He watched her walk into the nursery, flicking on the light. The sight of her there gave him a little bit of peace. But the anxiety and fear he could feel from Meg stole away even that comfort. He'd come expecting to find her at peace, not suffering.

Meg wasn't sure what to think either. She hadn't dreamt that vividly in weeks, not of Lethe, and Castiel had not been in those dreams for months.

She moved over to the window and stared out over the overgrown field. Meg's mind moved fast and then just as quickly settled on the angel who took a seat on the rocking chair in the corner. It was on the tip of her tongue to snap at him for zapping her here against her will. But when she turned and saw him sitting quiet and still, she couldn't.

There wasn't any point.

"I hate this place," she whispered instead and he folded his hands on his lap, watching her with a steady gaze that reminded her of a statue. "I hate it."

Castiel ran his eyes over the walls. "You seemed to enjoy it. Is it the paint?"

"It's this whole existence. It is cold, damp, painful and I hate it," she muttered, lashing out. Her power cracked the tiny night table and to his credit Castiel didn't flinch, just watched. "I hate that every-time I move I can't go anywhere without feeling like someone is about to slit my throat. That the world could end because of one wrong decision, that the minute this kid pops out that my life goes from complicated to truly fucked over…"

Castiel sighed and wisely held his ground while she stalked around the room as she rambled.

"It's something I never wanted. I was happy just being a soldier. Having a cause, serving it. Death, torture, hellfire, those were the days. Now look at me. I'm some sort of freak even by demon standards!"

She lashed out again and a few books went flying off the shelves. Castiel sighed and stood up to pick them up. "You're not a freak."

When he turned away from the shelves, she was in front of him, a tiny demon who was incredibly intimidating. "I'm not a freak?" Meg gestured at her rounded belly. "Pregnant demon who dreams of another afterlife. With an angel for her baby daddy. Who decided, just for giggles, to side with a pair of hunters who would have loved to see her dead! What part of that is normal? Next thing you know I'm gonna sprout a tail and fangs, and have a sign that declares 'freak'!"

He reminded himself not to smile at that image. For once it was hard not to.

"I'm a freak. All of us are freaks. Dean calls you guys Team Free Will. Team Freaks is more like it," she snapped, more than ready to take him down with her.

"It's a good thing we've met then," he said and she stared at him. He smiled. "I would hate to be a lonely freak."

The corner of her lips twitched into a smile but she schooled it back to a scowl. "Shut up."

Castiel sighed and leaned back away from her. "Have you thought about staying here instead of going back to the bunker?"

"I hate the bunker too," Meg grumbled irrationally. "I hate staying still and I hate having to run around. I hate that I want you around sometimes and I really hate that you keep looking at me like that!"

"Like what?" he asked innocently.

"Like you know some big secret I'm hiding and it makes you happy." Meg folded her arms over her chest. Castiel sighed but knew it was safer not to say a thing. "Seriously, you get this smug look like I…."

"Is this a hormonal situation? You seem more irrational than usual," he interrupted. His mind was already preoccupied with trying to reconcile with the angels, and Meg's tirade and nightmare just added to his worries. He knew he'd said something wrong when Meg's eyes almost went black again.

"Irrational?" Her voice was calm but deadly.

Instincts he didn't know he had warned him it was time to stop but he continued anyway, "It is just because I have understood that sometimes pregnancy makes females rather emotional and you do seem to be emotional. For you, that is."

"Oh, you're dead."

His eyes widened as she grabbed him by his coat lapel and dragged him after her towards the bedroom.

"I- Wait, was… was that a flirtation?" he asked as he followed her.

"This time it is but you're going to pay for that."

"This may be a poor decision, considering the past hour or so. You are still a bit-," he tried and Meg looked over her shoulder at him. He blinked and then nodded. "I see."

"Good. Now shut up before you get yourself into more trouble."

Kevin waited for Sam and Dean to finish their latest argument before he followed the younger Winchester through the archives. Sam was muttering to himself, occasional stumbling now and then and then overcorrecting and swearing as he went. Kevin tried to keep hidden, wanting to wait until he could at least get Sam where he wouldn't feel intimidated by Dean's presence as well.

When he followed him around a corner, he wasn't ready for an arm suddenly latching around his throat and pinning him against the wall. He squeaked in surprise and stared up at Sam.

"Why are you following me?"

"Because we're friends? And I technically live here too?" he tried weakly. Sam sighed and let him go.

"You're here to convince me too?"

Kevin remembered Chuck's words about giving them a way to fight this sudden compulsion of Sam's to end it all. Sam had been seduced by the idea of it all ending. He was in pain and no matter how much he'd fought, things always seemed to end up worse.

"Why won't you let us try?" the prophet asked.

"Because maybe it's just not worth it this time, okay?" He started to walk off and then turned back towards the prophet. "You've been in this for over a year, right?"

Kevin blinked and nodded.

"I've been in this massive puppet show all my life. You only got the Cliff Notes' version of it all. And you think you can tell me what I should do?" Sam demanded. "My entire family has been manipulated since before I was born. I've had to lose everything I love and for what?"

He waved a hand.

"I'm sicker now than ever and all I have left is a brother who, though God I love him more than anyone, has such a problem trusting me that every turn I take is like the wrong one." Sam leaned down towards him. "Maybe it is better to just end it."

Kevin stared up at him. It wasn't just Sam's sickly glow to his eyes that was terrifying. It was how hopeless, even after all this time, he looked. He looked defeated.

"You can't just decide what's best for everyone, you can't just take away whatever little control people actually have over themselves. We all have to have something we can control."

"You think that?" Sam demanded.

"You do too. You're just tired."

"Look, I get what you're saying, but no one would want to have control anymore. That is what Lethe is about. Peace. I saw it with my own eyes."

"Or were you looking for what you want to see?" Kevin followed the hunter as he stalked down towards the library. "What about everyone else?"

"What about them?"

"What about Nyx, Castiel and Meg's baby?" He stumbled a bit over the name but knew Sam would understand. "What happens to her?"

"I… don't know. She'd be there too I guess." Sam looked at him, confused. He hadn't even thought about that.

"And she'd never know her father, or her mother, or herself, ever. You'd not even let her be born yet, when it is pretty damn clear she's meant to be. She'd never know what a family is like. You know what that's like, Sam. Imagine her never knowing." Kevin poked him hard in the shoulder.

"She wouldn't want to know, she'd be content, if that is how it works."

"She deserves to know." The smaller prophet took a deep breath. "You better remember that if you want to end this world, you're not just affecting your life or Dean's. You're taking billions with you. Can you play God, Sam, and keep your soul?"

Kevin shoved by him and Sam could only stare as he watched him leave.

"What the hell, Kevin?"

There was a strange sort of comfort lying against her when he should be running out, going to his brothers and sisters, back to Dean and Sam. But there was a deeper need to stay still and try to think this all through. He'd spent so much time running blind into battle that he knew that for once he needed to stand still.

Lying face up with his head rested on her stomach, he felt her fingers card through his hair as Meg lay across the bed. Her fingers scratched over his scalp repeatedly and eventually he heard her sigh.

"Is the reason you're staying is because you think I'm going to run?" Meg asked suddenly, her voice vibrating through his ears. He rolled his eyes and shrugged a little.

"Maybe." Her skin felt cold under his and he reached back to touch her knee and then her thigh. "I get the feeling that moments like these won't happen for much longer."

"You going to miss it? How cute," Meg drawled caustically and he stroked her leg.

"I think you'll miss it as well."

"Mm." Her fingers smoothed his hair down and he turned his head on the side to look at her. "Kind of nice, this not being on the run."

"You never answered my question before. Are you staying here from now on?"

"If I don't?" Their eyes met and she rolled hers dramatically. "Right. Drag me back by my hair, right?"

"Vaguely occurred to me. You don't seem to feel safe anywhere else. And we're… drawing nearer." The hand on her thigh ran down to touch her stomach, under his head, and he felt something shift inside of her. "She's still quiet."

"Seems like it." Meg turned a little and he felt her fingers tighten in his hair when the baby kicked. "Only a few months left."

"Two, by my count."

"Since when?" She thought it over. "Two and a half. Hell."

He smiled and turned over to look at her face on.

"So what do we do?" Meg demanded as he leaned on her. "We never talked about that. Visitation rights, who pays child support, whatever."

"We protect her. That is all we should worry about."

"Not even knowing what she's even here for?" Meg's eyes half shut to watch him warily. "Blind faith in an angel."

"And in a demon," he countered. "Is that so terrible?"

"You have no idea, pretty boy, what I feel."

He watched the chase of dark shadows over her skin and leaned up on his elbows over her.

"Something is wrong. You are quieter than usual."

Meg's eyes opened up a little more. "Just a thought how wrong this could all go."

He sighed and rolled off of her, grabbed his shirt and pulling it back on as if to protect himself from her. "Meg."

"What's the worse that could happen, right?" She rolled over onto her stomach and tried to shift around. "Exploding light, dead demon, bleeding out, angels or demons ripping her out of me?" she muttered.

Appalled by her morbidness, Castiel looked over his shoulder at her and saw her staring at the wall opposite.

"Promise me you'll protect her." The softly spoken order made him blink. "Because it might make it easier if you promise me that if I-"

The angel sighed and shook his head. "You won't. Don't think it."

"You can't know that."

"I won't let anything happen. Not to you, to her, to the Winchesters." He stared down at her. " You have your cause. I have mine."

Meg resolutely shut her eyes. "Sometimes causes get us killed, Cas."

The bed dipped and she felt him slide up the bed to curl his body around hers.

"You need to have faith," he said in her ear, arms tightening around her rounded waist.

She smirked almost sadly. "I'm not sure I have that much faith left, Castiel, that everything turns out rose-tinted. Hard to keep much hope around."

His embrace actually tightened around her and she felt his mouth brush her earlobe. "Maybe you just need to find it again."

Meg touched the hands clasped around her waist. "Maybe."

Weeks later…

Chuck stared at his own reflection in the foyer mirror, fixing his collar and eyeing his own tired face. It had been a long stretch of weeks of sleeplessness and worry. Rumours of places disappearing off the face of the mouth, of demons and monsters, meant he'd had to write faster than he ever had. Now that it was done, it was all in the hands of his editor. Except for the complete ending. That was still his secret and he wasn't ready to give it to her yet.

His editor was now on strict orders not to call him in the next few hours.

"But you just handed this manuscript in," she'd snapped. They had known each other a long time, longer than anyone knew, and she sometimes acted as a ghostwriter as well for his online works. She already was worried that this ending he'd told her about was just going to raise more questions than answers.

Chuck sighed, took one last look in the mirror at his polished white shirt and dark slacks. It was such a change from his more usual bathrobes and sweat pants that he had to do a double take. With a glance at the time, he grabbed his bag of notebooks from the floor and headed out. He left the house without a backwards glance after he locked the door behind himself. The rain hadn't ended for the past weeks, flooding the streets, but he ignored the way it soaked his shoes as he walked over the overgrown lawn.

It suited his mood perfectly.

"Since when do you get out?" Ned, a portly little man with an umbrella, was standing in his own yard. Clutching his newspaper as if he was afraid his neighbour was about to snatch it from him.

Chuck smiled as if he didn't know his white shirt was being soaked to the skin. "Since today. See you around."

If Ned thought it strange that Chuck was gone from his vision when he blinked, he hid it well. Lord knows, he thought, that Mr. Shurley had enough strange things happen at his house. The man was bound to be a little strange himself.

Lucifer didn't have much to think about Hell. It was a place. Not his home or even a place he loved to visit. It had been created out of pure spite, then used to punish him by sending him as far from God's Light as possible. His own disgust with the place made it hard to want to stay.

Since leaving the Lethe, he had come to its reality, watching the demons while remaining invisible, and he wondered why he bothered. Demons were raped human souls, essentially. No matter how evil they were as humans they could always be made worse. Stripped bare, flayed until perfected into darkness, but ultimately, human. And his open disgust for them wouldn't allow for much sympathy.

If only God had listened to him! To see that these creatures were not worthy of the angels kneeling to them. To Lucifer, what they really were was no better than a demon.

He spent weeks watching the last Knight lead Hell, turn it inside out and begin to create more havoc than Azazel's usurper had in years. Smart little demon; beautiful even. Fallen warriors always made for the best leaders.

Though when he heard the whispers about Crowley and Meg remaining untouchable, he'd gone to look for himself.

As impatient as he was, he was also ready to look for ways first to find his way to fulfilling his vengeance. Without Sheol, Sam Winchester was difficult to find and Meg turned out to be next to impossible. But Crowley? The former King was easy for an Archangel who knew how to look.

Lucifer wasn't really certain what that demon was doing. He was walking the highways, teleporting now and then. After a large amount of people killed in Texas, he was now slaughtering a steady path up to Kansas. It was only because of the mayhem he was causing that Lucifer left him alone, amused by it.

Now he was topside once again, in an old factory in Michigan, watching Abaddon strip a soul bare. He stayed in the shadows, admiring her work.

"I want to hear all about the Winchesters," she muttered as she carved a thin line up the Hunter's chest. His heavyset body shuddered under the pressure of the knife.

"I told you everything."

"Nah uh. Where are they hiding?" She twisted hard. "Where are they going? What are they doing?"

"No one knows!" He gasped for breath as she dragged the knife along his arm, slowly severing the tendon at his armpit. His screams turned unholy and Lucifer grinned. "Please."

"Just tell me what you know."

"We… we haven't been in contact, not since Garth told us to go underground. Most of us don't even like them."

"Don't care about social hour for Hunters." She leaned into the knife and tsked as his tendon gave way, his scream echoing. "Try. Again."

"Rumour had it that Dean's brother is sick. Dying. So they're trying to find cures. They were… were at a Vampire hunt I think, in north Kansas."

Abaddon tilted her head. "Hunting Vampires. Why?"

"It's what we do, bitch," the Hunter snarled and then howled as she leaned on the blade. "I told you all I knew!"

"Clever boy." She tapped her finger on his cheek. "But did you really think that was going to save you?"

His screams grew louder and louder as she used the knife to torture out more information from him, about a man named Garth and the network of Hunters still in the central States. Considering how long it took her, her patience was admirable. Watching from the shadows still, Lucifer picked at his teeth thoughtfully. Clever Knight.

When she sliced through the hunter's throat at last, she was breathing hard in excitement, tongue flicking out to trace her stained lips. A demon close by, who'd been guarding her, stepped forward. Abaddon tilted her head as she looked at the hunter's body.

"Take off his head. I want you to send it to this Garth he gave me an address for."

"You want that hunter dead too?"

"No… he might be useful if the Winchesters trust him. I just want to frighten this little Hunter family a little."

The demon nodded and grabbed up the corpse to get to work. The Queen watched him leave before taking down her red hair and ruffling it a little.

"Delicious."

"You enjoy your work," Lucifer said finally and watched her spin. Her eyes went black and he smirked as he stepped out from the shadow. There was only a slight hesitation before she truly saw what he was behind the vessel's face.

"Father." Like all Knights before her, she dropped to her knees. "My Father."

He did like this kneeling business already. "Loyal Abaddon. Ruling suits you."

"I have not seen you since… since the first of us!" She was breathy in awe and he walked around her. "I knew you walked the Earth but there has been no sign of you for weeks!"

"I've kept it that way." He reached down to help her up and before she could move he cupped her face in his hands. "You have been a busy bee, haven't you?"

"In your name," she whispered, almost girlishly excited. Then the excitement left and she squared up to stand like a soldier ready to command. "What is your will?"

Lucifer was already delighted with her.

"So loyal. Nothing like your little sister." He watched the anger pass over her face. "So you've seen her."

"She's betrayed us all. For an angel."

"Things happen," he said indulgently, though he found her hesitant dislike interesting. "I need her though. And the angel Castiel, but only when we find Sam Winchester. Where he and his brother go, Castiel is sure to follow. I am ordering you to follow my command."

"I am at your service."

"Excellent." He smiled. "That is exactly what I wanted to hear but this will be fun for you I think."

The Impala roared down the highway, Dean checking in the rearview as he gunned it faster. The faster he put that burning house behind them, the better. Sam was cradling his broken arm, gasping for breath as he tried to stifle his pain. The blood dripping from Dean's forehead made it hard for him to see the highway signs that flew by.

"You see them?" Sam asked, reaching under the seat to find an emergency bottle of whiskey Dean liked to stash there. Using his teeth, he unscrewed it, spat out the cap, and then downed half the bottle to cope with the searing pain in his arm.

"Nope. Jesus, that was a close one." Dean swerved to miss a pothole and Sam moaned in pain. "You okay?"

"Just great. Broken arm is fun." Sam took another gulp. "Why the hell was that full nest? Garth's intel said it was just a pair."

"No clue. And I don't even want to know how an Alpha was hiding from us all this time."

"She was an old one, for sure." Sam glanced at him. "You're hurt."

"We just got to get to a motel room, see if I can set that arm for you."

Sam hissed and adjusted his arm as he handed Dean the bottle. His brother splashed it on his cut arm and groaned a little at the pain. "That monster… she was a bit… strong, don't you think?"

"Amped up yeah. Who knows why? Bigger things to worry about. I told you that you should have stayed home!"

"And leave you to get killed? Yeah, that's real smart. We were hunting for demons and instead we got dragged into vamps. Don't start blaming this on me!"

A loud siren shrieked and Dean checked his rearview. "Oh shit," he whispered, seeing the police lights. Cursing under his breath, he braked hard onto the side of the road.

Sam eyed him.

"Not a word, Sam. I'll do the talking."

"Oh that's going smooth things over I bet," Sam muttered as Dean rolled down his window.

A state trooper leaned down, shining a flashlight in his face. "Going a bit fast, weren't you?" he asked in a slow voice. "License and registration."

"Uh, look, officer, we're real sorry. Just got chatting, you know how it is," Dean said, trying to hide his hurt arm as he handed over his license.

"So, tell me. What are you boys doing this far out, middle of the night? Driving 40 over the limit."

"Getting' the hell out of dodge, sir," Dean said and Sam reached over to poke him. "We had to get back to our… our uh… wives."

"I bet." The light shifted and shone on the bottle still tucked between Dean's legs. The trooper tossed the wallet back on the dash. "Yeah. I'm sure." He leaned his forearms on the car door and grinned a yellow-stained grin. "I've been waiting for you boys all night, Dean Winchester."

Dean's eyes widened as the trooper reached in and ripped him out of the car through the open window.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, struggling to get his arm to rights so he could get out of the car. He turned around just in time for his window to crash in and two large hands grabbed his coat, pulling him out through the window as well. He was too far gone to fight as his head was wrenched back, a boot pinning him to the ground as another state trooper stood over him.

"Well, hello, Sam. What's a pretty boy like you doing out at a time like this, and with such a bad boy as your date?" the trooper asked, eyes clicking to black. Sam struggled to focus as the trooper leaned down and traced a meaty finger over his neck. "Should chop off a few of your limbs this time, see how you like it."

"Abaddon," he gasped, feeling her power crack around him.

The trooper's grin was an eerie similarity to the red haired woman he remembered. "Hi."

"Bitch," Dean shouted as he was thrown against the car hood by the other demon. Sam was yanked up and pinned down beside him, Abaddon bouncing up before them with a speed that belied the bulky meatsuit.

"I like playing dress up sometimes. It's so… freeing. Gives me perspective." She sat on Sam's chest and listened to his howl of pain as a knee squished his broken arm. "So. I've been looking for you both. Thank Lucifer that those vamps felt like playing along in return for that Alpha being given back to them."

"That was you who called us? Not Garth," Sam gasped and she smiled. "Of course."

"State trooper? Pulling us over? If you're trying to be original in finding ways to kill us, you got some work to do," Dean said, struggling against the demon holding him down.

"Killing you?" The black eyes blinked almost owlishly at Dean. "Eventually. I have a whole other reason for this, something fun. But I definitely don't need you to be able to talk."

She nodded at the other demon. "Cut out his tongue. Slowly."

Sam tried to struggle under the demon's weight but her power crushed down on him. Abaddon leaned down again, resting both arms on his shoulders and cocking the trooper's head at him.

"You know, my father wants me to spare you, Sam." She leaned further and he smelled cigarettes on her breath, the male vessel somehow making the demon inside seem even more threatening. "But your pretty brother? He can be killed. He's not important anymore, and definitely not now."

Sam kept his eyes on her as Dean screamed loudly, body rolling around on the car hood beside him. The demon chuckled and Dean's screams turned muffled and pained.

"He said you knew what you had to do, to end all this suffering. All this pain. And you want to, right? Can you imagine if Dean is dragged to Hell? All the pain I'll put him through personally. It'll be fun."

"I'll kill you first," Sam whispered. "Slow."

Abaddon hissed and slammed her hand down onto his broken arm, twisting hard. He screamed as the bone was forcibly pulled through his arm a bit further.

"Oo, I just get the tingles when you talk like that. All in the best places." The trooper's tongue flicked out and tasted the blood on his face. Sam felt his stomach knot in revulsion as he felt the chapped lips press against his ear. "Yes or now, you're going to serve my father in some way, Sam. Whether you know it or not."

Dean's garbled screams took on another pitch as the demon on his own chest sat up, a recognizable word managing to get around his ruined tongue. He groaned and turned his head, a weak moan fluttering out of him. Sam immediately realized what he was doing and spoke fast, hoping that for once the angel would listen,

"Castiel. Help us."

Hearing the soft prayer, Abaddon grinned and winked at Sam. "Just remember how bad it can all hurt, Sammy boy."

The wind picked up around them and Abaddon slowly climbed off Sam. Before the other demon could follow suit, he was yanked off of Dean and turned about. Castiel slammed his palm down onto his head and burned the demon out, his face lit up with power and rage. Abaddon watched the display almost hungrily, grinning at the angel.

Castiel dropped the corpse to the ground and turned to face her.

"You dare," he began.

"That's me. Regular old me is just so… entertaining but I like this cop thing, don't you? Bit more blasphemous, being all justice driven." Castiel's hand lifted, white light pooling in his palm and she winked. "Give Meg my love. I'll be ripping her heart out soon enough."

Before he could move, her head tilted back and black smoke shot out of the demon. Castiel kept one hand on Dean's shoulder as the hunter slipped to the ground, his eyes never leaving the smoke billowing to the sky. With his half-learned power, he could guess he could stop her.

But something troubled him enough to let her go.

Sam groaned and slipped off the car just as the trooper collapsed to the ground, now without a demon to keep him awake. "What the hell?" he whispered.

Castiel blinked at him. "You're injured." He looked down at Dean. "Why would you stop to talk to a demon?"

Dean's mouth was pouring out blood but between pained moans he managed to get a half-assed glare levelled at the angel.

"She tricked us. We were… we just came back from a hunt so we weren't thinking," Sam managed, holding his arm close as he kneeled down before Dean.

"She's getting bolder than ever," Castiel said and he shook his head, crouching down. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers over Dean's cheek and healed him. Dean felt the regrowth of his ruined tongue and choked a little, spitting up blood. Castiel squinted at him and then turned to Sam, holding his arm firmly. Sam felt a flicker of pain as Castiel healed him but the angel let him go just as the bone repaired perfectly.

"We called for you at the vampire nest," Dean finally managed around his numb tongue.

"I'm sorry, I only heard your call just now." Castiel stood up and looked around.

"Just now? Where were you? Cas, it's been over a month and nothing has happened. We couldn't find a damn demon anywhere. Now, suddenly, the demons show up. We saw you just a few days ago and you said you were just looking for the other angels and doing research. How busy could you be?" Dean snapped, more upset that he'd been taken off guard than he was with his friend.

Castiel shook his head. "I was busy."

Dean opened his mouth to say something but Sam gave him a warning look. "All right," Dean muttered instead. "All right. Look. We're sitting ducks out here. And we can't lead her back to the bunker. Kevin's there. Doing… whatever it is he does."

"I'll meet you several miles up the road. There's a town there. I need to check something first."

He was gone before Dean could even think to protest and he looked at Sam. "I'm really hating this."

"Yeah." Sam sighed. "Me too."

"So how much vampire blood?" Linda asked her son as she looked up from the notes. She was busy drawing chalk lines on the wood table and trying to measure ingredients as well.

"Four drops." He was carefully measuring out honey as well and when it was in the brass goblet he licked the spoon without thinking.

"That's disgusting," his mother grumbled as she finished and grabbed the vial.

"Why?"

"You didn't even sterilize it. That had demon blood on it, remember?"

Kevin rolled his eyes. "I'm a grown man."

"Sure you are. You're grown up when I say you are and I am your mother, remember?" she snapped. She ignored another eye roll. "You sure you have it right this time."

"Yep."

"Good. I hate experimenting on these things."

"Whatever." Kevin grabbed the glass jars across from them. They contained two cockroaches. The one was discoloured, fumigated to be weak so only its one antenna would move. The other was scurrying all over the jar.

"So Sam doesn't want to drink demons blood. We got to find another way," he was muttering to himself and Linda let him go on. "Cas got us that eyes of a seer, right?"

"Yeah, and I don't think I want to know how," she answered, handing him them.

Reciting the spell he'd haphazardly put together, one pulled from things he read in the demon tablet as a strange sub note, he tossed all the ingredients into the goblet and watched it turn a strange milky white. It swirled as the magic he was struggling to recite began to actually work and he nodded to his mother.

Using tweezers, she gingerly put both cockroaches into the liquid as he continued the spell. There was a bright spark of light and then the liquid stopped bubbling over. The roaches were coated in the liquid, having ingested a little bit of it, and she set them both back in one of the containers. As they watched, the sick roach began to actually move equally as fast as the other one. The discoloured shell turned normal.

"What did we just do?" Linda asked.

Kevin grinned a little wildly. "I think we just found one way to help Sam."

"Provided it works on humans and not just cockroaches," she said dryly as both roaches began to almost race each other inside the glass. Perfectly healthy for roaches, Linda figured.

"Like we have so many other options," Kevin pointed out. It had been a long time since they had anything approaching success. "We're going to do it a few more times and see if this wasn't just a fluke."

Castiel stood outside the bunker, eyes narrowed in thought. The Trans were safe, as they always were now that they had guards. The angels were standing close by, as they had been since that night he had revealed what he had done to Michael. They were waiting for a sign, waiting for something, though he wasn't sure what. None of them moved towards him until he raised his hand.

Naomi appeared first, blue eyes narrowed. "We are guarding the prophet," she declared as if it wasn't obvious.

"And who is guarding Heaven?" he countered. Her jaw jutted out and she looked away. "Dean and Sam were attacked by demons."

"A daily occurrence."

"The Queen ripped out Dean's tongue. That's not ordinary. She wants them alive though for something." He took a step towards her. "I want you to guard this bunker. I will take them elsewhere."

"You're giving me an order?" Naomi snapped incredulously and Castiel nodded. He could see her internal struggle. Her want to obey and her want to kill him.

"This is more than our wars with each other. We need to stay together if the demons are banding together."

"So says the angel who spends his nights with one."

Castiel's eyes narrowed but he didn't answer. He had no urge to deny it. Naomi crossed her arms over her chest.

"We will make sure no harm comes to Kevin Tran."

Castiel nodded thankfully and disappeared.

Watching them thoughtfully from the hillside, Crowley sat down slowly and crossed his legs, hungrily searching for a way in. He continued to mumble to himself, mind torn between different worlds.

He didn't have to move yet. Not yet.

Chuck walked through the low clearing, one of the old graveyards left from the Civil War, and dropped his bag to the ground by one of the markers. He sucked in a deep breath and looked around. The trees seemed to shift on their own, forming a block of brush and leaves to keep anyone else from entering. Overhead, the thunderclouds continued to roll in, flickering with heat lightning.

Closing his eyes, he spread his arms out to the side.

"Sister." Nothing answered him but he didn't raise his voice. He swallowed nervously instead and tilted his head back. "Sheol."

Something shifted in the air and he opened his eyes to see her standing only feet away. Chuck blinked and put his arms down. Dressed in black couture, she was both ethereal and impossibly sad. Her face was half hidden by the black netted veil and her posture was stiff, her gloved fingers clenched into fists.

"The arrogance of you," she whispered. "Calling on me like this."

"I wanted to see you." He looked around. "On more neutral ground."

"A graveyard? How morbid and yet how you." She moved towards him until only few inches separated them. Chuck let himself stare at her and she stared back critically. "You shaved. Dressed even."

"You dressed in black. I was used to seeing you in white."

"Yes, well. It seems I've become a shadow of my former self," Sheol said dryly. "So the change in scheme seemed appropriate."

"There was no other way, sister," he whispered and her red mouth parted in a smirk.

"There is always another way. You just were too frightened to take it in the beginning." There was something off in her banter and Chuck knew that the tired, disinterested strained tone of voice was a sign.

"You could have simply asked."

"And you would have said no. You forget, brother, how well I know you." She slowly took off her black gloves and dropped them, her veiled cap following. They disappeared before they hit the ground and he had the feeling it was like a fighter about to attack. For once he did not feel exposed and overwhelmed by her and he wondered if she was doing it deliberately.

"I will not let you harm this world."

"I would bring it peace. And you know that," she said, poking him in the chest. He caught her wrist and held it.

"We created this world for the sake of letting these creations live their own lives. Why couldn't you just leave it be? We both agreed to you having Lethe to give you purpose while the contracts ran their real course."

Sheol noticed the change in him as well. He'd lost the facade of the absent-minded writer.

"Do you have any idea how much a burden you put on me?" she demanded, voice low. "I cared for the souls you couldn't be bothered to let into Heaven or Hell. I bathed them. I purified them so they could return. Often times they came right back to me because you left the angels in charge when they needed your guidance. I only had Death as an occasional companion, while you… you were allowed to forget. Everything. You could not be bothered with the mess you created."

Chuck closed his eyes and felt her tug on her trapped wrist but he didn't let her go. "We can't punish them for what fell apart between us all. They are still children compared to us."

His fingers slid down her arm then up it, brushing her neck. Sheol's head tilted back at him and she gave him a condescending smirk.

"So what are we going to do? You found a way to… to block me. You thought you were being clever."

Chuck didn't answer immediately, fingers going up her neck to cup her cheek. But he realized the even deeper problem. It wasn't just her anger and her disappointment in him.

"You were lonely."

"I lost my family because of this! All of us, separated and barely able to stand each other. I had a cause corrupted by your incompetence in the end," she spat out but her tired voice lacked any venom. "We had an agreement. I merely accelerated it."

"Knowing I could push back."

She suddenly smiled. "Hoping you might."

He blinked and when she stepped back the hand on her neck reached into her red hair. So she stepped forward instead so they were closer than they had been months before.

"I'm sorry."

Sheol's smirk was tight but actually amused. "No, you're not."

Unable to help it, he smiled back at her. She continued to stare at him, her true nature showing behind her vessel eyes and his own glimmered back at her. His eyes dropped to her mouth, noticing the tight lines where too much exhaustion was starting to wear on her vessel, much like how his own looked. Like Death, she was the only one who could understand the burden he'd taken, and was the only one who had dared to force him to wake up. His fingers stroked her skin thoughtfully as he looked back up at her. Sheol's eyes were wary, watchful, as she read the emotion plain on his face.

"You may live to regret this," she muttered, arching an eyebrow. Chuck smiled again, seeing the interest in her expression.

"I might."

They met halfway, her mouth bruising his the instant their lips met. He tightened his fingers in her hair as she kissed him back and felt her fingers slid under the collar of his shirt, arms going over his shoulders to bring him closer into her. Her body notched up against his and he shuddered at the comfort and warmth she brought with her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he deepened the kiss and for the first time in years he felt close to what he really was. He felt content.

The safe house almost repelled him, due to his frustration and anger, but Castiel took a deep breath and stood outside the door, calming himself. The wards made a crackling sound as they recognized his presence and he walked through the door. The lights were low, books scattered all over the floor and the couch she'd been sleeping on was empty. He sighed, shaking his head at the mess of blankets.

Sometimes he wondered if she did it deliberately.

"Meg?" he called out. It wouldn't be the first time he'd come back to find her gone. She was restless enough even when he was there.

He heard a clatter out on the rear porch and zapped himself there instead of waiting.

The demon sat on the back steps, dark hair waving in the wind. Meg was testing her power, like she always did, causing the flowers in the garden to die and then snapping them back to life. Castiel watched covertly before slowly walking towards her, stopping to lean against the railing post. Her head tilted a little and he saw her eyes catch sight of him.

"Clarence. What's the word?"

"Abaddon attacked them."

"Figured." She sighed and shook her head. "Hell's been quiet enough."

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked.

"Hard to sleep when the guardian angel who acts as my body pillow goes missing," Meg answered.

Castiel stared at her profile thoughtfully. He'd left so fast that he was sure she'd never miss him. But apparently she had. "Were there more nightmares?"

"I always have nightmares, Cas." She sat up straighter and pressed her hand to the small of her back. "Brothers Dumber got hit hard?"

"They're waiting for us. I think I should to tell them."

"Tell them about what?" She gestured at her stomach, half hidden by the heavy coat she wore. "They know about Nyx."

"Tell them that we've been helping Kevin find a cure for Sam. That you have an idea."

"Ah-ah. You have been helping. I've just been watching and giving some input," the demon pointed out. Castiel sighed and took a seat beside her. Gently, he held out his hand and wrapped it around hers.

Meg unconsciously leaned into him. "Almost time, eh?"

"Yes." He looked up at the night sky, knowing she wasn't talking about the Winchesters anymore.

"Can't say I'm complaining. The back aches, the eating a lot, the fact that I can't move fast? I won't miss that." She chewed into her lower lip thoughtfully. "I've been missing the sex though."

"Well." Castiel smirked a little in memory. "You did try to stay rather inventive until it was too uncomfortable for you."

"So not proud of admitting defeat about that either," the demon muttered. Castiel looked at her.

"You miss it that much?"

"It was never disappointing. What, you don't miss it?"

"I'm an angel. For me, sex is something that I never thought to need. The act itself is nice."

"Nice?" Meg parroted incredulously.

"More than nice. Indescribable," he admitted, earning a smug grin from her. "But I find it equally as comforting to be with you even without it."

The demon stared at him. "You're serious?"

"Yes."

Meg shook her head. "You are something else, feathers."

"I know." He sighed. "You're not feeling any different?"

"No different than the last time you asked," she said irritably. "Just… feel full and heavy. Like I swallowed the kid instead of getting her the fun way."

"Does this mean you're not hungry?"

"Starving." She perked up. "Where'd you say you sent them?"

Dean sighed as he looked around the midnight diner. Typical Cas. The diner wasn't remotely familiar but he was hungry enough to ignore it. Through the window he could see Sam closing up the Impala and pausing to check his phone messages. He hadn't wanted to talk but Dean had seen the feverish glint in his eyes. They hadn't spoken about the trials, about the slow drain on Sam's body, in days.

Whatever was on his brother's mind, Dean was determined to find out once Castiel let him know what was going on with the demons.

"Oh great. When I think I want to pop out for dinner, Cas finds me you and Gigantor instead," Meg's voice drawled from the side of the table and Dean turned, ready to insult her back. He jumped a little at the sight of her and stared openly. The waitress going by took her order and then tiredly continued on.

Dean was still staring when Meg looked at him. He pointed rudely at her belly.

"Whoa, what did you do? Swallow a watermelon?"

The demon glared at him. "Shut it."

Dean reminded himself not to laugh as he watched her slowly maneuver into a chair. Meg would tear out his throat for it but it was tempting.

"What's wrong?" Castiel demanded as he appeared in a chair beside her. Dean gestured at Meg and the angel looked at her. He was so used to the sight of her that he forgot that Dean wouldn't have seen her in weeks. She'd finally given up her tighter shirts for men's button down shirts but even that couldn't hide the very noticeable, large swell to her stomach. The demon was uncomfortable enough that she had to keep shifting around on the seat.

"She's looking a little.…"

"Pregnant?" she offered lamely. Castiel sighed.

"If he hadn't figured it out by now then…"

"I'm not dumb, Cas. Come on." Dean gestured at her as the waitress delivered a few cups of coffee. "She's just sort of ballooned."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" Meg asked defensively and the hunter put his hands in the air. Castiel slid his hand over her thigh to keep her calm and she relaxed under his touch a little. Sam came in and slumped down beside his brother. His eyes fixed on Meg.

"Whoa, you are looking…" One look at the demon's ferocious scowl made him swallow down the words. "Nice."

"Funny how one brother gets the brains and the other gets," Meg paused and looked at Dean, "What did you get anyway?"

He glared at her but it lacked any real anger. The shaky truce they had had made the shared insults so frequent that neither was bothered by each other much.

"So." Castiel nervously looked at Meg and then back at the brothers.

"Where to start, right?' Dean asked.

"Abaddon's on the move. All the demons have been waging war on hunters, and there are a lot of those hunters on the loose. You two got hit by her, Sam is dying and likely wanting to end the world, and Dean is still clueless." The demon rattled it off, ignoring the three matching glares she got for it. "Close enough?"

"Subtle," Sam grumbled. "You should tell go around telling kids there's no Santa too."

"Oh Sam, that's my favourite past time," she said with a morbid grin. Castiel sighed and looked at her. "What?" She leaned back and all three noticed how she could visibly rest her hands on her stomach now.

"Anyway." Castiel looked at Sam. "I've been working with Kevin, while you and Dean were hunting."

"What?" Dean blinked. "That's what you were doing when I kept calling?"

"What else would I be doing?" Castiel asked, confused. Dean's eyes darted to Meg and she grinned again.

"Don't worry, he was doing that too."

"Ugh, there goes my appetite," Dean muttered. Sam looked livid and he wisely kept going. "Doing what with Kevin?"

"A type of temporary cure for Sam. It involved blood from an angelic vessel and a demon at first."

"So… you?" Sam looked at Meg and she shook her head. "Another demon?"

"Yep. Wasn't easy to find but since I'm hot topic to Abaddon now, not hard to act as bait for any demon trying to get in good with her."

"We're not sure it will work but it might help keep your symptoms at bay," Castiel finished before they could ask more questions about something he hadn't liked doing in the first place.

"You didn't ask if I wanted this," Sam said tightly. Meg stared at him calmly.

"I just assumed a Winchester would keep fighting rather than giving up."

The calm way she said it only made the insult more painful. It hit him hard enough that he stood up abruptly. He made to say something but looking at Meg's impassive face and Castiel's own warning glare, he just waved his hand and walked off, ignoring Dean's impatient plead to sit down.

"Awesome," Dean said lamely and turned around to face Meg as his brother went outside. "You had to, huh?"

Her eyes wandered back to him. "Someone has to wake your brother up. You really don't want it to be me but if you don't step up, I'll give him a reality check he won't like."

There was something vague in the way she said it. Cold and yet concerned. But then the feeling was gone as the waitress put down a pile of pancakes in front of the demon. She began to eat hungrily, not bothering to make conversation with either the angel or human. Castiel just sat silently, apparently lost in his own thoughts about the angels.

Dean continued to nurse his coffee, keeping one eye on Sam in the Impala. His brother was sulking, no better word for it, but he knew it was better to leave him alone.

Until he noticed the stoplights starting to flick repeatedly, the interior lights of the diner following suit.

Meg dropped her fork and Castiel straightened up. "That's no demon."

Dean looked at the angel. "What are you talking about?"

The angel was gone and Meg stood up awkwardly, peering out the window. Dean looked as well.

"Sam!" He shoved back his chair and ran for the door when he saw that Castiel was at the Impala looking into its empty interior. Meg sighed and made her way to the door, ignoring the waitress. When she left the diner, the wind picked up her hair and blew it around her. The air felt hot, as if a storm was coming, and the lights stopped blinking on and off.

"Weird," she muttered, wrapping her arms tighter around her body as she followed Dean down to the Impala. The hunter was frantic, hands in his hair as he stared down at his unconscious brother. Sam's eyes were staring sightlessly at the roof of the car, slumped over on the front seats.

"What the hell! He was okay not ten seconds ago!" Dean shouted at the angel and demon, as if it was their fault. Meg sighed and tiredly rubbed at her back. The slight squeeze she suddenly felt low in her womb made her wrinkle her nose. It didn't hurt. It was just… there.

Castiel backed away. "I can feel him. He's in there. But trapped."

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean demanded, bending beside Sam in the car. "Sam? Sammy!"

He went so far as to slap him across the face but there was no response. His skin was hot to touch and clammy.

"We need to get out of here," Castiel muttered, staring up at the lights which were flickering again. "Something is using power here and it isn't me."

"Heal him!"

Meg sighed and Castiel shook his head, reaching down to brush his hands over Sam's face. He yanked his hand back and stared in surprise at the Winchester.

"I can't."

"What the hell do you mean? You're an angel!" Dean's voice was nearly hysterical as he shook his brother. "Sam!"

"I can't heal him because he's not sick. Get him in the backseat," Castiel ordered. "I'll try to work on him but we need to get out of here fast. Meg, give Dean directions to the safe house. I'll need to focus."

"Safe what?" Dean tried but the angel was already moving Sam into the backseat, propping him up. When he turned to face Meg, the demon was scowling.

"Great. I always wanted to have more girl chat with Deano," she muttered. "Come on. Cas will fix up your baby bro so he's not catatonic."

"Going to explain how?"

"He's got a power boost, Dean. How do you think?" Meg demanded as she yanked open the passenger door of the Impala and dropped in. Dean made to argue, wanting to, but one look at Sam's unconscious face made him realize how exposed they all were. "Come on. We're sitting ducks here and we really need to get out if something is coming for Sam, comprendre?"

Dean banged his hand on the roof of the car and then yanked open the door. "He better not be hurt, that's all I'm saying," he said to no one at all. Meg eyed him and settled down deeper into her seat, closing her eyes to his worried muttering.

Sam was yanked through what felt like dimension after dimension, reality warping around him. Everything ached and burned at his skin and he put his head in his hands to try to stop the pain. He felt like screaming for Dean, had screamed for him when something had pulled him out of the Impala. Not his body. His soul.

It didn't feel like a dream. He felt like he was being dragged through Hell's fire again.

"You are a hard man to find, Sam."

Sam's eyes opened to see Lucifer squatting just before him, head tilted on the side. A quick glance around revealed a beach with waves beating at the shores. The sun was warm and the water cool as it touched his bare feet.

Lethe.

"Oh God."

"Not quite. God doesn't love you, Sam. Otherwise he'd be here, saving you." Lucifer gave a rueful smile. "But me? I care. I care a lot."

"What do you want?"

"Well, we never did get to finish our deal, Sam. I think you've had more than enough time to think this all over." Lucifer sat cross-legged across from him. "So. What do you think?"

"About what?" Only aware of his aching head and even worse, his burning skin, Sam gave the Archangel a weary look.

"Bringing peace to our families. Surrounding them in this… this beauty."

"Ending the world."

"The world's on its last legs anyway. We're just speeding along the process." Lucifer drew a devil's fork in the sand. "Have to admit, has the world gotten any better since you saved it from the Apocalypse?"

Sam kept his mouth shut, trying to keep from feeling that strange warmth Lethe was already surrounding him with.

"It's not. You're fighting just as hard, just as much at a lost cause, as you were before. It is kind of getting redundant, really." Lucifer propped his head up on his hand. "Think about it. One simple little trial to end and boom. Lethe comes to your world."

"Meg says it destroys everything," Sam whispered.

"Meg? A demon?" Lucifer snorted. "Right. Trust the demon. That's been such a good idea in the past for you."

Sam stared at him. "What's in it for you?"

"Me?" Lucifer blinked. "I get what I always wanted. My family."

"Dead humans," Sam whispered, suddenly feeling like it was too clear. "You'd get rid of the humans."

"You all get to be in the Lethe," Lucifer tried but Sam was remembering Meg's words about Lethe from months before.

"They wouldn't even know what they are. All those people. Families."

"Only family that matters is Dean, remember?" Lucifer said, voice a seductive lull. "Dean would be…

Kevin's angry words, pointing out that lives like Castiel's daughter's, like the lives of all the children he had helped save, would be gone. There would be no choice.

"There'd be no freedom," he whispered. "They lose themselves."

"There's a type of freedom if you let there be," Lucifer snapped. "We need to act now, Sam, I need to act now. With your help."

Sam stared at him.

"Trust me now. We'll get through this but I need you, Sam. I don't care about God. But what we do is save people. That is who we are. We do it together."

Dean's voice echoed through his head, pulling at him and bringing him back to balance.

Not Lucifer's. Not the lure of all this. His brother's voice kept him grounded.

"No." He whispered and his head finally lifted. "No."

Lucifer's face tightened and power crackled around him. "Wrong answer, Sam."

He reached for him and Sam felt something tighten on his soul.

"You really should have said yes. Again."

But before Lucifer could grab him, Sam blinked out of the Lethe and the Archangel could only stare at the spot he'd left in the sand.

"Damn."

Sam choked on a gasp as he came to in the backseat of the Impala. Castiel gingerly removed his hand from his chest, shaking it a little. He looked at him closely and then sat back a little.

"I'm sorry, it was necessary."

"What was?" Sam asked, rubbing at the place Castiel had touched.

"He pulled your soul back from Lethe," Meg said and Dean, who'd been forcing himself to focus on the road, glanced at her.

"How did you know that?" Castiel asked for him.

"I'm a smart cookie." She leaned back, resting her hands on her stomach. She looked uncomfortable enough that Castiel leaned over the seat to hand her Dean's spare jacket. Muttering her thanks, she stuffed it into a ball and crammed it at the small of her back to ease the ache.

Dean watched the careful way Castiel was handling the demon and shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her eyes dart to the clock. She'd been checking the clock randomly for a while and he still wasn't sure why.

He finally found his voice, not trusting it before. "Sam? You… you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm… I'm fine." Sam slowly pulled himself up and stared at him through the rearview. "I know what I have to do."

Dean eyed him in the mirror and saw that Sam was watching Meg. "You scared me there, Sammy."

"Sorry. It won't happen again." Sam nodded, for the first time looking strong and not as defeated as before. "It won't."

The clearing was still cold, still crisp with a chill, and the overcast sky had cleared to reveal bright stars and an even brighter, fuller moon. It was strange, how time had stood still in here, in this one spot alone. But it also felt like home. Where nothing mattered but the calm.

Chuck felt movement against his side and tightened his arm around the slender waist to hold Sheol in place. Lying on her black dress was like lying on a bed of satin and he pressed his face against the crook of her neck. It had been so quiet in the aftermath.

Neither had moved for hours.

"We created tsunami in the Philippines," Sheol finally said, her voice muffled by her arm. He nodded and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Do you remember the last time we were together like this?"

"Not clearly." He smoothed his fingers over her arm, feeling the cool skin and the spirit she was underneath.

"Lucifer's fall. We created a new galaxy then… burnt out some stars too as I remember. You came to me needing comfort. It was the last time you set foot in your own Heaven, wasn't it?"

"I'd forgotten."

"I know." She twisted a little. "Strange but I remember everything. The birth of it all. I'll be here for the death of it all."

His caress stopped for a moment. "Not yet."

"If not now, later." Her head turned a little toward him. "You forget, little brother, that I'm far stronger than you. Than Death. Manipulation or no, I survive."

"I know." He slipped his other hand under her waist and brought her back more fully into him. "I wouldn't want your death."

"Mm." Her eyes closed a little and he felt her sigh. "Not that I'll die. I just change. As usual."

"So what do we do? What's done is done." Chuck toyed with the red gold strands that had fallen over her breast. Sheol sighed and reached back with one hand to cup the back of his head, nails scratching lightly through his hair.

"We stay as we are. Let the pawns move out. Whatever the end."

"And if you lose?"

She smiled at him. "You knew going into this game that neither of us actually loses or wins. That is not what we are or what we really do."

He stared into her fathomless eyes, saw how lonely his existence was going to be without her, knew instinctively it was why he had lived so long alone in his human form. There'd never been another to compare to that turbulent love he'd had for her for eons. Through all these games, he'd never known such strange excitement before, the thrill of it. With Death and Sheol, he had his only equals. With Sheol, the only one who'd dared to rebel against him and win. She'd won before, but never had he regretted playing the game as much as he did now.

What had he done?

When Chuck woke hours later, he was alone and feeling cold already. He dressed, always checking over his shoulder to see if she was still there. Sheol enjoyed tricks like those, he vaguely remembered. But now she'd gone back to her Lethe waters and he was still alone no matter how many times he muttered her name.

As always.

Fishing out his notebook from his bag, he pushed the bag under his head as a pillow. Chuck sighed and stared up at the sky, waiting for inspiration to come.

Dean whistled as he pulled the car into the long driveway up to the house hidden in the clearing. "Nice work, Cas. You guys squatting?"

"Sitting," Castiel said absently, his eyes on the back of Meg's head. The demon had scooted down in the seat, not caring that the broken window blew cold wind at her.

"Not what I mean… never mind." Dean parked just beside the broken walkway and slowly got out, stretching his sore back. Sam stood up, stretching as well, while Castiel zapped out, opening the door to help Meg. She looked up at the building and dusted off her hands.

"Home sweet home," she muttered, moving around Dean to the front steps.

"So this is where you've been hiding out?" he asked as he followed her.

"Well, the Motel 6 was a bit too far out for me," she tossed over her shoulder.

"Cute," Dean said and he felt Sam lean against him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Strangely yeah." Sam had been quiet the entire way here since Castiel had woken him up. But he was no longer making snide comments about the trials or Castiel's hopes to find a cure. He was quiet, watchful, and oddly at peace.

Meg sighed as she stepped into the house ahead of Dean. "I seriously was not looking forward to this."

Both brothers whistled as they came in. "Cozy," Sam muttered, glancing the way it was laid out.

"Thank you. I worked hard at it," Castiel said as he came in behind them and closed the door.

"No one knows it's here?"

"It is heavily warded to repel attacks from demons and angels among other things. It will keep them out and it remains hidden," Castiel said as he followed Dean to the living room. "Meg needed a safe place and I…"

He didn't finish, just watched the demon disappear up the stairs instead of following them. He sighed and sat down on the armchair close to the stairs. Dean took the time to look at all the books and magic ingredients, while Sam nearly collapsed onto the couch. Castiel focussed on him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. I'm good, stop asking me that, both of you," Sam ordered though he didn't sound half as biting as he had before. Dean eyed him over his shoulder. "I just… had an epiphany, that's all."

"Handy thing, an epiphany."

"What did Lucifer want?" Castiel demanded and Sam looked at him in shock. "When I pulled you free, I felt him there with you. Sort of like an instinctive pull."

"He wanted me to complete the trials. Like before. To bring the world to the Lethe and Lethe to the world."

"Sam, what did you say?" Castiel asked and he gave them both a look.

"Answer him," Dean ordered, voice snapping out. "I saw you the past weeks, Sam. You were going to say yes. You were going to…"

"I said no." Sam exhaled and put his head in his hands. "Because you were right, Dean. We aren't about destroying the world, because this wouldn't be saving it. I… I'd be taking the choice from everyone."

Dean nodded, unable to hide the pride from showing in his smile. Sam gave him a hesitant smile back.

"I just don't get how this is going to heal me."

Dean put his hand on Sam's gently.

"Maybe Kevin's come up with something. The kid is a whiz, remember? We have to have some faith. We're going to kick it in the ass, like we always do."

"Maybe," Sam said wearily.

"Not maybe."

"I'll do what I can to help," Castiel said. He watched the brothers thoughtfully, an idea playing in the back of his mind. Maybe Kevin was right about that latest spell.

"Yeah well, we'll have to get back to the bunker and…" Dean broke off as he noticed Castiel looking up the stairs. "What?"

"I'll be back."

Meg was sitting on the bed when he came into the small bedroom, her eyes on the clock. Her hand remained on her full stomach, pushing a little. Castiel watched her thoughtfully from the door.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Just… different." She made an uncomfortable grimace. "She's heavier than normal."

Castiel knelt in front of her and reached out, gently brushing her hand away so he could touch her. Meg leaned back a bit to let him, breath sucking in. Castiel murmured lowly. He was clearly talking to Nyx; the same way Meg had to admit to doing as well.

"She's… I can't quite feel her." He looked up into her eyes, fingers smoothing over her stomach.

"Yeah." She shifted uncomfortably and Castiel tightened his grip a little.

He was puzzled. The weeks they'd spent together had given them a sense of connection, and he was starting to find it easier to feel when she was troubled. Despite the frequent times he'd left to help Dean and Sam, he'd spent so much time with Meg that he'd been sure she would stop trying to pull away. Though he wasn't sure she was doing it deliberately. She looked as confused as he felt but she was trying to hide it.

Inside her, Nyx was silent. No throbs of power, no emotions. It was the way she'd felt months before and there was no way for him to know what was wrong with either her or Meg.

"Something is changing."

"She's heavy, that's all." She suddenly gasped and her hand wrapped over his. "Hell. That's scary."

Castiel's eyes widened in alarm. "Meg?"

She sucked in a deep breath. "I'm fine. Way too early. It's a false alarm."

"What is?"

"These contractions," she said calmly.

"What!" He flattened his palm and she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I read about it. They happen and they don't hurt. It's just her moving a little. But she's pretty quiet. No more thumping around in here." Meg sat up a little more. "Stop looking so scared. I'm not about to pop yet. We got just over a month to go. I don't think she's coming any time soon. "

Castiel watched her. "I'm worried about you."

"You don't need to be. I'm fine." Determined to distract him, Meg waved her hand. "Did you find the angels as well?"

"They're at the bunker, guarding Kevin and his mother." He kept touching her stomach, as if to catch Nyx if she suddenly popped out. Meg sighed and removed his hand from her. His blue eyes shot up to her. "I can still feel the call from Lethe. But it's weakening."

Meg searched his gaze. "Right."

"But I…"

"And I can feel the contractions. They're false ones. Not real. Nothing happening." She stood up and walked around him. "You should worry about Lucifer. About her."

Castiel stood as well and stopped her from leaving. "I worry about you. Why did you hide this?"

"It only just started and like I said, no big deal. I read about it; just sort of the meatsuit getting adjusted." Her eyes darted to the clock for a second and Castiel frowned.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Trying to see how long it will take the Winchesters to get out of here," she muttered and focussed back on him. "You had to bring them here."

"They need to be protected. You all do."

"Cas, this is going to be one bad episode of Big Brother if you aren't careful." He frowned at the reference and she sighed. "I guess I just got used to having something of my own."

He watched her face flicker a little in its disappointment and smiled a little. Meg eyed him curiously.

"What?"

"Nothing." He reached out and touched her shoulder. "It won't be for long. I'll go get you that peanut butter you said you were out of."

"You're just saying that to bribe me into not killing them," she drawled and earned a smile for that.

"Yes."

"Suck up." She grabbed his tie and pulled him down, rising up on her toes to kiss him. He kept the kiss gentle, fingers gently going over her stomach. Frustrated, Meg sank her teeth into his lower lip and forced his mouth to open in surprise. The kiss deepened as she raked her fingers up his arms to his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck. Castiel smiled against her mouth and gently touched her in return.

Neither heard Dean come in until he banged into the door frame, stumbling in surprise.

"Whoa, I need to wash my eyes out now," he said though he didn't look away. Meg gave a disappointed groan and pulled back, tongue flicking out over her lips. Castiel smirked and turned away.

"I was just about to leave to get Meg something."

"And she was tapping out her order in Morse code? With her tongue?" Dean asked glibly.

Meg snorted and walked around him. "You'd be amazed what I know how to do with my tongue."

He watched her go and shook his head.

"Did you need something?" Castiel asked.

"I just wanted to know if you had hot water here so Sam can wash off that blood he got on him from the vamps earlier." Dean put his hands in the air and backed away from the angel. "Got enough of an eyeful though to need to scrub myself clean."

He turned back though and looked at the angel. "Just… pregnant Meg is still all over you?"

"Like she said. You'd be amazed, Dean," Castiel said and then disappeared in a flutter. Dean blinked.

"Right." He thought it over. "Ugh, gross." Still thinking, he shrugged and had to admit, "It's a little hot too, actually."

Abaddon was watching the footage her demons had procured. Her men who had followed the Winchesters were about to call, she knew it. They'd been older, better trained, than the last set that had run out. It was set to be an interesting time if they could find out where they were hiding.

"Abaddon."

Lucifer's voice sudden in her ear sent a thrill up her spine and she turned away from the screen.

"Father." She bowed her head respectfully.

"I have a job for you. Once your men call back."

"As ever, my armies are at your command." She grinned devilishly. "It is surprisingly easy to control them since I returned."

"Mm." He smoothed his hand down her cheek and flooded her with power. Her eyes opened wide as she watched what he wanted her to see.

"But… that is…"

"The best way. Use the humans in the area. Destroy any who get in your way."

The thrill of battle surged through the demon and settled in the pit of her stomach. "Yes."

He was gone when she blinked, just as the call came through. Her mind cleared from the haze he'd left her with and she turned to the goblet full of still fresh blood.

"Mistress." A demon's voice, garbled, called to her, and she looked away from where Lucifer had stood. "We've found them."

"Tell me," she answered, watching the blood ripple.

Standing on the driveway, the demons stood in a line. Further away from them, a demon settled his weight on an old tractor and spoke into a goblet of blood. The dead farmer they'd used was lying underneath him as a footrest.

"They drove up here and disappeared. It must be close by."

"Who?" Abaddon demanded.

"The Winchesters, the angel, and Meg. All of them."

"Good. Stand at ready."

"As you wish."

He fixed his posture and poured the blood on the farmer. The demons in the distance were waiting for orders. When he heard a snick behind him, he turned and gasped as a dark eyed angel slammed his palm over his mouth to quiet his scream. The angel sword slid into his heart and he gasped, sparking as he died.

Inias dropped the body to the ground and stared at the demons just nearby. Squinting, he looked out down the driveway and swallowed.

The hum that had slowly started to overwhelm the Lethe's call began to pound into his ears.

Naomi sat at her desk, staring blindly at the file before her. Scripture brought her no comfort now. Not when things were in such disarray. Sighing, she put it down and folded her hands before her.

"Eight little words," she muttered. "And he gave me a riddle anyway."

Reaching up, she pressed her hand into her temple and pushed hard, as if to jog her already eidetic memory. It would only be a matter of time before something went wrong.

The Lethe's call was louder in Heaven it seemed and for the first time she longed to go back to Earth to end it. Slowly, she pushed harder on her temples.

"Protect life. All life. All forms. That is my only order to you all. Creation is sacred."

Her eyes snapped open.

"Oh Father, what have we become?"

"Naomi."

One of the remaining angels who guarded Heaven came striding in. She looked up and saw the strange look on his face. Battle-ready, a soldier ready for war, he'd obviously heard something.

"What is it?"

"Inias. He said that there were demons gathering en masse and overheard them saying they were readying an attack on the Winchesters and Castiel's demon. He is waiting for our order."

Naomi looked at her hands. "What order should we give?"

Derel looked at her. He saw her eyes shining. "You received the command from our Father?"

There was such hope in his voice that she didn't want to lie to him.

"I believe I did." She sighed and sat back. "There are forces on the move and it is time we remember what we were made to do for our Father. Our enemy is moving."

"Her?"

"Yes. Her. No more questions. Inform the others. Find them all and send them to Inias. I will join you shortly."

He was gone and she stared at her hands again, as if picturing the blood on them.

"We were made for more than this."

Abaddon stood with her soldiers, eyeing the house in the far distance curiously. "A safe house. How quaint."

"We think the Winchesters are there," one of her soldiers said.

"They would be, wouldn't they? Hiding like rats. The angel?"

"No sign of him."

She shrugged. "Our Father will take care of that. Our orders are to end the Winchesters and Meg. The angels won't dare interfere, not where this abomination is concerned."

"Battle is fun, even against humans," the demon muttered.

Abbadon grinned wildly. "This isn't supposed to be fun, but I have a funny feeling it will be."

Sam watched Meg curiously as he tried to fix his laptop's WiFi. The portable unit he carried was struggling to hook up to the Internet through the phone line he'd hacked. Even when it seemed to work, it was so slow he had time to look around. It was only then that he starting noticing Meg checking the clock repeatedly. Her eyes kept flicking between normal and black, as if she was agitated.

She didn't move from her spot on the couch though.

The old TV blared with an old black and white movie and Dean was trying to follow it as the scrambled picture wobbled on the screen.

"Is it always this boring?" he asked the demon finally. She shrugged.

"I never stay for too long." She got up from the couch and moved towards the stairs. She stopped and grabbed the railing, digging her nails in so tight that she left marks and the wood actually cracked. Sam frowned and stared at her.

"Meg?"

"Just dandy, boys. Don't watch porn while I sleep. That would just get weird." She made her way slowly up the stairs.

Sam watched her before looking back at Dean. "Where has Castiel gone off to?"

Dean made a noncommittal grunt. "Something for Meg, I think. Peanut butter or sushi or… I don't know what it is she's craving. Caught him with his tongue half down her throat so who knows what that craving is really about."

"He should be here," Sam said, watching the overhead lights flicker a little. The generator was acting funny.

"Won't be gone for long, knowing Cas." Dean grabbed his beer and took Meg's spot on the couch. He took a long gulp and then eyed Sam. "Why are you so worried though? This is Meg."

Sam swallowed and looked at the page he'd been loading slowly. "Because I get the feeling Meg's hiding something from us."

"Oh yeah, like what?"

"Like this." He turned the monitor towards his brother and Dean went green.

"Seriously? You wiki'd childbirth and that image came up? That's disgusting." Dean didn't look away though. "Wait. Why are you wikin' that?"

"She keeps staring at the clock. She's timing something."

"A bomb?" Dean said as he read the page.

"More like contractions."

"Oh, you have to be kidding me. Maybe they're false."

Sam gave him a pointed look and Dean sighed, knowing he had a point. The demon was on edge, had been since they'd arrived. They both looked up the stairs, at the railing she'd nearly broken, and Dean hung his head. "Oh you have to be kidding me," he repeated.

Castiel sighed as he searched the shelves. "Angel of the Lord, Captain of a Garrison, and I'm shopping for peanut butter for a demon." He rolled his eyes up at the ceiling lights. "You have a very odd sense of humour."

The shop clerk eyed him curiously from where she was stocking a few low shelves but didn't move.

The angel searched the entire store before he finally gave up, going to the clerk quickly. The clerk jumped at the sight of him suddenly appearing behind her.

"I need peanut butter. Preferably organic."

"Uh… I'm not sure. I'm just stocking right now but I can check for you," the clerk said and Castiel gave her a desperate look. "We might not have any."

"That is not good." He sighed and shook his head. "Not good."

The clerk gave him an apologetic look. "Is it really desperate?"

"I… I need it for someone, she has been craving it for months now for some reason."

"She?" The girl beamed. "Oh, I get it! Congratulations."

Castiel blinked, not expecting that. "Thank you."

"She due soon?"

"Uh…" he stalled, not sure what to say. "Yes, she still has some time though."

"Well, I'll check in the back. It might be your lucky day."

Castiel sighed and watched the girl go to the back room. No point in spending too much time away. Meg and Dean were too volatile around one another and he knew she'd deliberately push Dean's buttons for fun.

Setting down the wire basket he'd been filling with supplies the Winchesters might need at the safe house, he closed his eyes. Not knowing why he did it, he reached out. A strange feeling that he needed to get back slowly crawled up his spine, his Grace reacting to the warning of something happening. The low hum of Nyx's existence he'd learned to look for, that odd darkness of Meg's he knew, were suddenly both completely entwined as his Grace reached out to see if they were safe. The feeling that he was needed pulled at him and he stared at his own reflection in the freezer doors.

The warning began to nearly pulse inside of his head, instinct screaming at him to get back. He needed to get back.

His phone suddenly beeped and he checked it to see Dean's number. He still hadn't quite figured out how to text but his eyes widened when he saw what Dean had written him.

"No. Not yet."

He tried to wing himself off but found himself stuck in his place. Something blocking his power and keeping him still.

He only knew one Angel who could do that.

"Oh, don't leave, Castiel."

The reflection of Lucifer suddenly appeared behind him and instinctively Castiel let his blade fall to his hand, spinning fluidly.

Lucifer's hand wrapped around his throat and pinned him back against the glass before he could lift his arm. Castiel gasped, the angel sword dropping from his hand as Lucifer held him up off the ground.

With a cold, threatening smile, the Archangel leaned in close.

"Hello, brother."