"Dean I swear to God if you don't get out of my room," Imogen groaned, pulling her blanket up over her head to block out her obnoxious brother.

"Come on, Em," Dean sighed, "You have barely gotten out of bed in two days."

"I'm literally growing a human being, Dean. Fuck off."

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, "Just get up," he grabbed her blanket and ripped it off of her and dropped it to the ground, "Get up and come with me."

"FUCK. OFF," Imogen glared at her older brother as she slowly sat up, "I don't want to go anywhere."

"Well, then it's a good thing I don't care," he eyed her sternly, "Get dressed."

"How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?" she asked, "If I learn Japanese and say it to you like that will you finally get it?"

Dean shook his head, "You had Bobby teach you Japanese curse words, didn't you?"

Imogen almost laughed, "That's not really the point," she looked at him, "The point is leave me the fuck alone and let me sleep."

"No," Dean shook his head once again, "Seriously, Em. You've got to get up and do something."

"Why?" she asked, "I feel like shit. I want to sleep."

Dean put his hand on her forehead, "No fever. You're fine. Get up and get dressed."

Imogen glared at her brother, "Dean, lemme ask you a question."

"Okay," he sighed, "What?"

"Have you ever been pregnant?"

"Oh my God," the man groaned, "Em."

"No," she barked, finally getting to her feet, "Do you know how it feels to be nearly eight months pregnant? Because I sure the fuck do. And it feels like shit."

"Too bad," Dean barked, "Get dressed. I'm not going to tell you again."

Imogen took a deep breath. If it hadn't been for the fact that she was pregnant she might have lunged at him. Then again, if it wasn't for the fact that she was pregnant she wouldn't be this annoyed by her brother right now.

"Where's Sam?" she asked.

"Who cares?" Dean replied.

"You are such a dick," she pushed her brother into the wall as she walked passed him, "Sam!" she called out, "Sammy?" She walked down the hall and stood at his shut door. Dean was right behind her, he grabbed her by the hand and turned her around.

"Seriously, Em. Let's go."

"Where?" she barked angrily as she reached for Sam's door knob.

"Don't go in there," Dean warned, looking more and more paranoid.

"Why not?" Imogen insisted, "What the hell is going on here?" she didn't wait for an answer and instead opened up the bedroom door to reveal Sam and Castiel standing in there.

Sam grimaced like child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Imogen swallowed hard, she looked at Castiel, and he looked the same as he always had. Her first instinct was to jump into his arms and kiss him, but her second was to grab an angel blade and run him through.

"I said if I ever saw you again one of us was going to die," her chest felt like it was on fire, "You better feel damn lucky that I'm pregnant or I would stick to that promise," she growled, turning quickly on her bare heel and making her way to the stairs. Once she was at the top of them she was out of breath. She didn't look quite eight months pregnant, but it was still taking a toll on her body. She slammed out of the bunker and saw her old car, which she had given to the angel, sitting in front of the bunker. If Sam and Dean were trying to hide Castiel from her they had done a piss poor job of it.

"You son of a bitch," she yelled, bending down to pick up a good sized rock and then throwing it through the passenger side window of the Mark V. It made a very satisfying shattering noise as the window broke and the glass flew everywhere. And just as she had bent down to get another rock to throw there was a rippling pain shooting through her abdomen. She could barely breathe as she had to lean against the car to keep herself up, "Son of a bitch," she groaned and sunk into a sitting position leaning her back up against the car amongst all of the broken glass, "Not now," she groaned, "Not when they're all here. Not when Cas is here," she begged softly, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Doing her best not to move at all.

"What the hell?" Imogen heard her oldest brother's voice a little while later and opened her eyes, "What happened?" Dean asked, "Why are you sitting in broken glass?"

Imogen just rolled her eyes but didn't make a move to get up.

Slowly Dean approached and offered out his hand, which Imogen accepted and let him pull her to her feet. She dusted the glass off of herself, "Why's he here, Dean?"

Dean sighed, "He needs our help with something."

"So why didn't you just tell me that?" she asked, "Why let me find out like this?"

"That wasn't the plan. I was supposed to take you out and we were going to get some food or something while he and Sam did what they needed to do at the bunker. You weren't supposed to find out."

Imogen shook her head, "You could have just told me."

Dean scoffed, "You threatened to kill him," he glanced at the broken window of the car and sighed, "Come on, sis. Let's go get some air," he handed her a pair of shoes and helped her keep her balance as she slipped them on and then they both walked over to the Impala and got in, Dean started to drive.

"Hey, Dean," Imogen breathed softly, staring out the window as the trees whizzed by.

"What's up?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the road.

"Are you pissed at me?" she asked, "I mean, it's just things have been super weird between us since… That huge fight that we had. I still feel like shit about it. And also since I told you I was pregnant."

Dean took a few minutes to formulate a response, "Honestly?" he asked rhetorically, "I'm kinda glad."

Imogen was taken aback, "You? You're glad? Dean Winchester is glad that his little sister got knocked up by his best friend?"

Dean groaned, "That's not what I mean," he sighed, "I just… I dunno. You having a baby, well it's the one good thing that's happened to us in who knows how long."

"You really think it's good?" Imogen asked, "You don't want me to… you know, get rid of it?"

The man shook his head, "No, Em," he glanced briefly at her and then back at the road, "I'm glad that you get to be a mom again, and that I get to be an uncle. I'm not going to screw it up this time."

Imogen nodded slowly. Everything the doctor had told her was weighing heavily on her. She wanted to tell someone, to tell anyone. She was scared as hell. But she couldn't, because that would only end in them telling her to save herself, she couldn't though. She had to save her baby, but there was one thing that she had to make sure of first.

"Dean," she took another breath, staring out the window as she spoke, "If something was to happen to me, could I count on you to be there for my baby?"

Dean's eyebrows came together in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I just need to know," she explained, "I mean, Dean, I'm just being practical. With our line of work…" she sighed, "If something happened to me, I need to know that my baby's got you."

Dean stared straight ahead at the road and his hands tightened on the steering wheel, "I'm surprised you even have to ask."

"I don't," she stated, "But I need to hear you say it."

"I'd protect your baby just as fiercely as I did you."

"Thank you," she replied, "You won't," she took a deep breath, "You wouldn't let Cas take the baby would you?"

Dean scoffed almost sadly, "You're gone and you think that I'm gonna let the last living piece of you go too? You're out of your damn mind, kid."

Imogen smiled as a tear slipped down her cheek, she wiped it away, "Thanks Dean."

"You know it."

"Hey, Dean," she looked at her brother, "What Cas needs help with, are you gonna be busy?"

"I don't have to be," he shrugged, "Sam can handle it."

"Okay," Imogen nodded, "I wanna go to Bobby's."

"Why?" Dean asked, "That place burned to the ground."

"I know," Imogen nodded, "But there's some stuff in one of his sheds that I want to get. Oliver's stuff," she explained.

"Oh," Dean nodded, "Okay, well it's like a six hour drive to Sioux Falls. Do you wanna go back to the house and pack some stuff."

"Not really," Imogen stated, "You have a credit card or some cash or something?"

Dean nodded, "All right. Let's just drive."

And so the sibling pair drove. They got food in a drive through and ate in the car, stopping only to get gas and for Imogen to pee, which was pretty frequently because of how pregnant she was. But it was early evening when they pulled into the burned house. Imogen was the first to get out of the car and she just stood there, looking at it in awe. Dean got out and stood beside her.

"I can't believe he's gone," Imogen breathed, "I just, I saw it once before but-" she shook her head, "God damn."

Dean put his arm around his sister, "I know what you mean," he replied softly.

Imogen slowly walked to the back of the burned house where the storage sheds would be and Dean followed a safe distance behind her. She walked over and opened up the one that contained her things. It took a minute to pry the door open, but with Dean's help they got it open and went inside, shining their flashlights around.

"I want to take the crib," she told him, walking over to it and putting her hand on it, "Bobby and Nick made it," she ran her hand along the side, pushing dust off it, "I want to take it," she repeated steadily, though it felt like there was a weight sitting on her chest.

"Okay," Dean said with a nod, "We'll rent a trailer or something," he pulled his phone out of his pocket, "Actually," he paused, "I bet Jody has something we could use."

"Jody?"

"Yeah Jody. Jody Mills. The sheriff."

"Oh duh," Imogen half-heartedly laughed, "I don't know how I forgot about her. She's the one who gave me your phone number. She's how I found you last year."

"Huh," Dean scratched his head, "I didn't know that."

"Yep," Imogen nodded, "I came here, saw Bobby's place was gone, so I found her. She filled me in the best she could and then she told me how to get in touch with you guys."

"I'm gonna go call her," Dean stated, "You'll be okay in here?"

Imogen nodded, "I'll be fine," she shined her flashlight elsewhere in the room where there were boxes of her things. Oliver's things. She wanted to take it all, but that wouldn't be good for anyone. So she grabbed his box of ashes, the pictures, and a few pieces of clothes that she could pass on to the new baby and took them back to the Impala and put them in the back seat before searching for Dean who was at the tail end of his conversation.

"All right, Jody. See you soon," then he hung up his phone and slipped it into his pocket, "She's gonna help us out."

"Awesome," Imogen said with a smile, "I put some stuff I wanna take back with us in the Impala. I hope that's okay."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "That's fine," he said with a nod, "Oh, I should text Sam and let him know what's going on. I didn't get a chance to tell him where we were going."

"I already texted him," Imogen smiled weakly at her brother, "He knows."

Dean nodded, "Well, what do you want to do until Jody gets here?"

Imogen sighed and took a seat on an old, dirty barrel that was just sitting there, "Where did you go?" she asked.

He looked at her, "Where did I go?"

"You know," she probed, "When you left after Oliver was born. Where did you go? And why did you stay gone?"

Slowly Dean sat on a fallen tree and sighed, "I just hunted," he admitted, "And honestly, I stayed gone because I was pissed at myself. And every time that I looked at your tired face, or listened to Oliver scream, I was more and more pissed because I let you down."

"Let me down?" she asked, "Because I had a baby?"

Dean shrugged, "It's pretty obvious you've failed when your teen is having sex and getting pregnant."

Imogen rolled her eyes, "I'm sorry I disappointed you, Dean."

A long sigh escaped the man, "Not as sorry as I am that I wasn't there for you."

All she did was nod in response, "Yeah, well," she shrugged, "That one's on me, not you," she held up her hand when Dean started to argue, "I don't want to hear it, Dean. He was my son," then she put her hand on her belly, "This one will be different though," she looked at him, "Right?"

"No doubt," Dean nodded.

Imogen half smiled, "The baby's kicking," she told him, "Do you want to feel?"

"Yeah," Dean said, clearing his throat and walking over to his sister, laying his hand on her belly, "I don't feel anything."

"Wait for it," she said and the frowned when nothing happened, "Try talking to the baby," she suggested, "It likes your voice."

"What?" Dean asked, meeting his sister's eyes.

"Yeah, the baby always moves more when you're talking."

"You never told me that."

Imogen shrugged, "You haven't known I'm pregnant all that long. Thought it might give it away if I had told you before," she said with a smirk, "Seriously, talk to it."

Dean's hand was still resting on his sister's small bump, "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked, kneeling down so her belly was closer to eye level.

"No idea," she told him, "Didn't bother to ask the doctor."

Dean nodded, "Just as well. They got it wrong the last time," then he sighed, "Can it hear me?"

"According to everything I've read," she said with a nod, "I talk to the little munchkin all the time."

"Okay," he sighed, shifting uncomfortably before turning his gaze to his sister's round belly, his hand still resting against it, "Hey there, little one. I'm Dean- I'm your Uncle Dean," he corrected himself, then looked up at Imogen, "I feel like an idiot."

"Shut up and talk to the baby," Imogen barked at her brother.

Dean was a little confused by her oxymoronic statement but he just sighed and looked back at his sister's belly, "If you can hear me I just wanna say hey and let you know that I'll be here to protect you," he paused, "And to teach you how to shoot a gun just as soon as you can hold one."

Imogen gently smacked his shoulder.

"Okay, fine. You have to learn how to at least read and be potty trained. But I'll be waiting."

And then the baby moved and Dean almost ripped his hand away, but he didn't and he smiled as the little one kicked his hand unmistakably.

"Told ya'. Munchkin likes your voice," she smiled happily.

She felt happy.