I KNOW THAT THIS IS HELLA LATE AND THAT IS WHY I AM REWARDING YOU LOVELIES WITH TWO CHAPTERS. OKAY? OKAY. LOVE YOU. MWAH MWAH.

I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL AND ALL THAT JAZZ - ONLY AUBREY AND AIDEN. THEY'RE MINE.

Staying for dinner was the last thing on Aubrey's mind. And in her opinion, she just did it out of impulse; because she was going to meet the woman who had thrown her own son under the bus (figuratively); because she was going to be able to watch her interact with her husband; because she was going to find out her name.

The four of them sat around the dinner table. Greg and Aiden sat beside each other, across from them was Aubrey, and at the head was an empty seat reserved for the mother. Aubrey found out that her name was Lorraine. A memory crept up from the back of her mind, then; perhaps a person she'd been acquainted with in her childhood. The memory was quickly swept away when Lorraine stepped into the room with a steaming plate of sliced roast chicken.

"Dinner is served," Lorraine said gleefully, setting the plate down on the middle of the table. By the way Aiden reached for his knife and fork immediately, Aubrey believed that it was indeed his favorite… next to cheesy pizza, of course.

A sharp click escaped Lorraine's lips as she slapped Aiden's hand away from his utensils. Aiden jumped and elicited a light yelp, startled. Greg flinched visibly on his seat, but didn't make a move.

"What do we do before eating?" Lorraine asked, raising an eyebrow. The kind smile on her face suggested it was an innocent question of a mother to her son, but her previous actions (as well as the scowl on her face not a minute ago) suggested differently.

Aiden answered with his head bowed. "Say Grace."

"Exactly." Lorraine didn't seem like a very religious person to Aubrey; but then again, Greg was religious. She'd seen the cross hanging on his neck more times than she could count. "Are you a religious person, Jenna?" Lorraine asked her.

Aubrey put on a cynical smile. "I'd like to think of myself as an Agnostic."

"What's that?" Aiden asked, straightening up in his chair.

"Someone who disbelieves in God, but doesn't not believe in Him either."

A moment of silent passed, before Aiden scratched his head. "Um…"

Her lips curled up in a small smile, and she leaned closer to Aiden so she didn't need to speak to him so far across the table. It was impolite. "Let me rephrase that," she started. "I believe that God exists. I just don't like him very much." For a moment, she expected thunder to roll overhead. But then she remembered that The Man upstairs had left his post a long time ago.

Understanding crossed Aiden's face as his mouth formed an O. He leaned back in his chair once more and frowned; the same frown that was always there when he was thinking very deeply about something. Aubrey wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Lovely," Lorraine said, and Aubrey raised her head to meet her disapproving gaze. Aubrey narrowed her eyes, because the woman's gaze wasn't just judgmental. It was cold. Did she hate her that much already?

Feeling awkward, Aubrey subtly shifted in her seat. "Where's the bathroom?" she asked, even though she'd explored the house enough to know it like the back of her hand.

Lorraine's stare did not falter. "Just take a right outside."

"I'll leave you to say Grace." Aubrey excused herself in a soft voice, pushing away from the table. As she was standing up, she caught Greg's eye. There was an underlying apology that was obvious on his face. She sent him a small smile, a nod of her head, and exited the room.

Once inside the bathroom, Aubrey locked the door and tried to collect her thoughts.

Lorraine had trapped her; that was for sure; put her in a situation where it would have been rude to turn away. It was their first meeting, and Aubrey already despised her. Her attitude, her face, the way she treated Aiden and Greg.

Looking down at her watch, Aubrey found that it was about 7 o'clock. Bobby and the boys were probably at home having dinner if they weren't driving around town looking for her. She just hoped that they were smart enough to figure she'd gotten caught up and she was still at the Bishop's. But, then again, none of them knew how to get to her.

Aubrey splashed cold water onto her face and used a towel to dry it afterwards. By then, an acceptable amount of time had passed and it was time for her to go out again. She took a deep breath, straightened her plaid blouse (which was not an appropriate sense of clothing for a fancy dinner, by the way), and opened the door.

They had already started eating the chicken without her, but she didn't actually mind. Aiden was more focused on his food that he didn't really notice when she came in. Greg and Lorraine, however, raised their heads to acknowledge her presence.

"Success?" Greg inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Ha ha." Aubrey rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him; though it was then that she noticed Lorraine glaring at her, her eyes as cold as ever. Aubrey resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. I'm not flirting with your damn husband, woman. Get the hell over it.

She returned to her seat and helped herself to the food, making sure not to get too much so Aiden would be stuffed by the end of the night. Obviously, he wasn't used to such satisfaction, because he let out a cheer before ladling more of the chicken onto his plate.

From the corner of her eye, Aubrey could see Lorraine looking distastefully at her son. "I swear," the woman started. "You eat like you won't ever see food again, Aiden."

That nearly sent Aubrey over the edge. But she was surprised as well. Up until then, she hadn't seen the darker side of Lorraine conversing with Aiden. Their relationship obviously hadn't been over-dramatized by the boy. Seeing the Aiden's distress, Aubrey winked at him, and made sure that he saw it too. He grinned back at her before returning to his meal, albeit slower than before.

"So how long have you two been married?" Aubrey asked, struggling to take their eyes off of the boy.

Lorraine didn't look up when she answered, "We're not married."

Um… The corner of Aubrey's lip twitched. "How long have you been together, then?"

It took a moment for her to get her reply, which was: "About two years now."

Aubrey almost choked on her food. "Two—" She cut herself off, the chicken rubbing itself roughly against her throat. Her eyes stung as she reached for her glass of water. When the coughing fit finally passed, she came into her senses enough to notice that Aiden was patting her back rather harder than was necessary. She pushed his hand away gently, giving him a small smile, which he returned before going back to his seat.

"I'm sorry," Aubrey started, drinking more of her water and keenly aware of the deathly look Lorraine was giving her. "Aiden can't be more than ten, but he couldn't be that young, obviously. Is he adopted or—"

"She's my second wife."

She turned to Greg, who had answered her question. It was little more than a murmur, but Aubrey heard it. And she was grateful, of course, but at that moment she wished he hadn't replied. Because Lorraine was glaring daggers at him, even as he kept his head down.

"Oh…" Aubrey trailed off, trying to think of something appropriate to say because it was obvious that Lorraine didn't like talking about the first wife (though Aubrey started having a growing suspicion that Lorraine just didn't like talking to her in general). "I'm sorry," she said for the second time that evening. "I didn't know. I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine." Lorraine's voice had returned to its original cheerful tone, but Aubrey was a hunter and she could see right past that. In fact, she wanted to ask more about Aiden's late mother. Was it possible that her death was similar to what happened to her own's? That Gabriel or another archangel could have been behind it? The possibility of another archangel being the killer was much higher than it being Gabriel. Gabriel was dead. Although, there was the small matter in which when the first mother died. Aubrey did the math in her head and decided that it was still possible for Gabriel to have been the killer.

Feeling slightly guilty about the situation (and she didn't even know why), Aubrey subtly turned to Greg and found him still staring down at his food. That brought her back to her bothersome, but more practical senses. I might as well ask, she told herself. It's not like I mind being kicked out.

"When was this?" Aubrey asked, taking a bite of her chicken and trying to act as casual as possible. "When Aiden's mother died, I mean." She forced herself to keep her eyes off of Lorraine as well in hopes of keeping her confident attitude.

Greg's head snapped up to look at her, surprised. And Aubrey suspected that if it weren't for Lorraine being in the same room, he would have answered sooner. "A few years after Aiden was born," he replied anyway. "He was four, I think."

Aubrey looked to Aiden, smiling softly. "And you're seven now, right?" He nodded once. I was older than four when my mother died. Lorraine came into the picture when he was about six years old. Aiden doesn't seem to like talking about this very much.

All these thoughts flew by in Aubrey's head, confirmations, in less than ten seconds. Once they were gone, she had to ask another question: "What happened?" Greg already knew what she meant.

"Car accident," he quickly said. Aubrey flinched slightly at the term, remembering what happened to her not two years ago. It wasn't very visible, and she was thankful for that. She forced the painful memories out of her mind and focused on the scene in front of her once more.

A few seconds had passed. "Stop that!" Lorraine was saying. "We shouldn't be talking about this in front of Aiden. Greg, you should know better!" At that, Greg lowered his head once more. Lorraine sort of had a point, but if Aubrey could voice her retort, she'd point out that a mother shouldn't be snapping at other people in front of her child.

Instead, she just said, "I'll drop it," with a smile for added acrimony. Lorraine was pleased with this, however, and didn't say anything more.

The dinner finished only a few minutes afterwards, when Aiden announced that he was full. Aubrey knew that this wasn't true, and he was still craving for more, but Lorraine seemed happier even though her food had gone to waste. "That's a first," Aubrey heard her mutter under her breath, and she resisted the urge to flip her The Finger. It wouldn't have been appropriate for Aiden to see. Hoping to ease up the angry tension, she even offered to wash the plates (but staying longer was the last thing on her mind). Lorraine told her not to bother since it was Greg's night for the dishes.

"Please, let me," Aubrey insisted. "After having you make dinner for me—"

"It wasn't just for you."

Aubrey was (barely) successful with keeping her smile in place. "I feel guilty."

"Don't be." At that, Lorraine walked away, and replacing her spot in front of the kitchen sink was Greg. Aubrey was about to strike up a conversation with him as well when he shook his head. It was an elusive gesture, and if Aubrey didn't know better she'd think that it wasn't meant for her. But something in her told her that it was, in fact, meant for her. She took the hint and said her goodbyes to him, ones he returned with less vigour, before moving onto the living room, where Aiden was sure to be.

He was there, of course, but Lorraine was there as well. And they seemed to be having a quarrel of sorts.

Lorraine's voice was the first thing Aubrey heard. "Aiden, I am not in the mood for one of your jokes." Curious, Aubrey crept to the edge of the doorway, where she stood flat against the wall with her ears pricked.

"It's not a joke," Aiden said, and Aubrey could hear that he was trying to sound convincing, but he sounded scared. "I tried to tell you about her, but you wouldn't listen."

"You've seen before. In the park, maybe at school. That's where the drawing came from, is that right?"

"I've been dreaming about her, mama!" Aubrey didn't know why, but she flinched when Aiden called Lorraine mama. She supposed that he'd had enough time to make it a habit.

"Don't lie to me, Aiden."

"I'm not lying!"

"You are! What you're saying is impossible."

"Why won't you listen to me? You never listen to me—!"

"I won't hear any more of this," Lorraine said, sounding absolute. "You'll go to your room, finish your homework, and sleep as soon as you're done."

Aiden's voice raised an octave. "But I wanna play with Jenna! And I don't even have school tomorrow—"

"Jenna," Lorraine interrupted, "is leaving."

Aubrey bristled at the words, but as much as she hated to admit, she really did have to head back to Bobby's. She raised her head and looked at the clock, and found that it was thirty minutes past 7. The boys were probably going crazy. Aubrey hated to leave, but she didn't really have any other choice. And it wasn't a spur of the moment decision either, even though that was when Aiden suddenly stepped through the doorway. Aubrey flinched back, surprised at his sudden appearance.

He noticed and whipped around to face her, and it was then that she saw light screen of tears over the puffy eyes above his red nose. A small whimper escaped his throat, and he was the first to wrap his arms around her torso. Aubrey laced an arm around his shoulders and stroked his head gently with her free hand. His small frame shook against her as he sobbed, staining her clothes with tears.

Heartache bloomed across Aubrey's chest, sympathy. She couldn't relate to the boy. Her parents had always been very loving and gentle with her, and though her father sometimes had scolded her for being careless during a hunt, it was never like this. It was never lengthy. All she could do for Aiden was offer him words of comfort, pat his back, make him laugh, and it burned Aubrey to know that things like that were never enough.

"Hey," she murmured softly. "It's gonna be alright, okay?" Lorraine can't see this. "Things'll get better." Lorraine can't even be hearing this. "Just try not to think about it so much." She's right at the other room; of course she's hearing this. I'm so screwed. Was she selfish for thinking that? That even though a boy was crying in her arms, she still thought about her own problems?

But then again, both of them would get screwed over if Lorraine saw; which meant that, as much as Aubrey hated to, it was just better to just cut things short.

She gently pulled away from Aiden, keeping her hands on his shoulders to keep them from shaking so much. "Aiden," she started. "I have to get going. You understand that, right?" Still sniffling, the boy nodded. "Now, I'm really sorry about what's happening to you, but whenever your mom's gone"—she let her voice turn into a whisper—"you talk to your dad, okay? He loves you to bits. He'll make you feel better."

"I'm gonna miss you" was all he said in response. And as much as Aubrey appreciated it, she hoped that he'd actually listened to what she'd just said. Greg was getting restless.

Sounds of plates clacking together came from the kitchen, and Aubrey was just about to tell Aiden to go to his room, do what his mother told him to, when the doorbell rang. Aubrey's head snapped to the main door that was down the hall, staring at it through narrowed eyes. The bell rang again, twice. "Greg!" Lorraine's voice called from the living room. The sound of running tap water stopped. Greg appeared from inside the kitchen, walking briskly to the door.

Subconsciously, Aubrey steered Aiden behind her. "Go do your homework, Aiden," she said, sounding just like Lorraine a few minutes ago. She hated it, but the urgency of the people on the other side of the door sent warning bells going off in her head.

"Bye, Jenna…" Aiden's small voice came from behind her. Aubrey's heart clenched. When she turned around, he was already running down the hallway and to his room. Frowning, she whipped her head back around and tried to focus on the possibility of impending danger. The door was already open, though, and in front of Greg stood the two people Aubrey hadn't been hoping to see until she got home.

"Dean," she called. He had been glaring at Greg. Sam was with him too, apparently trying his normal approach with strangers before they heard Aubrey's call. Their eyes found her easily, whereas Greg had to turn around to look at her.

"You know these guys?" Greg asked.

"I should," Aubrey replied, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "They're my brothers; the ones I've told you about, the ones you've been so eager to meet?" Realization dawned on the man's face, and he whipped his head back to look at the brothers by the door once more, with newfound excitement.

Outside, Dean's eyebrows rose. "You told him about us? Aub—" Sam subtly elbowed him the same moment Aubrey's stare turned icy. "—Jenna, you told us you'd be back by 5."

"I got caught up." Aubrey threw the boys a knowing look, and they seemed to understand, for they took a step back from the door, their faces softening up.

"Well," Sam started, taking a quick glance at Greg. "Bobby's looking for you. He's got news." A hunt? That's what news normally meant in the life of the Winchesters. "It's getting late. We'll wait by the car." His words were short and clipped, and Aubrey was beginning to suspect that they were upset with her. She couldn't actually blame them.

"I'll catch up," Aubrey said, waving her hand.

Sam and Dean nodded in acknowledgement, but before they could walk back to the Impala, Greg held his hand out. "It's wonderful to finally meet you both," he stated. "I hope you come back. Aiden's dying to meet you too." The brothers shook his hand, and Aubrey was grateful.

"We'd like to meet him too," Dean replied gruffly, and that was it, apparently. As he turned around, Aubrey caught him lift his eyebrow, a question. She furrowed her eyebrows in response. Tell you later it meant.

They walked back outside until they were out of eyeshot, and once they were, Aubrey made a move to follow them. "You remember what I said, alright?" she told Greg sternly. "About Aiden?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, smiling slightly.

Aubrey rolled her eyes at the smug expression on his face, knowing that it was there because he had finally been able to meet the boys. She playfully punched his arm, but repented soon afterwards and pulled him in for one last hug instead. "I'll see you around," she murmured against his shoulder. He hummed in response.

Once she'd pulled away, she patted his arm. "Tell Lorraine I said thank-you."

"No promises."

That was the last laugh they shared before Aubrey turned away from him, starting on her brisk walk to where the boys waited. They parked the Impala behind where her own car (the one Bobby lent) was parked. Sam was leaning against the hood, and Dean was standing by him, his eyes already on Aubrey.

"He seems nice," he said, crossing his arms.

Aubrey pointed a finger at him. "You should meet Lorraine."

"Who's that?"

"The wife," she answered, but thought better. "AKA the wicked stepmother, AKA the reason you had to come looking for me in the first place."

Sam chuckled as he threw Dean the car keys. "You sure have a lot of explaining to do."

"Tell me about it," Aubrey grumbled, taking out the keys to her own car.

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