A/N - Boy oh boy am I sorry that I didn't get this out sooner... I've had family up for the last two weeks and all my time has been devoted to my four year old brother... He's very much exhausting! Thank you so much for your reviews, glad y'all liked that I brought Bobby into the fray, how could I not! Anywho, please do enjoy the new chapter, no real action, but I'm trying to give them as much peace as possible before the shit hits the fan... And, trust me, it will XD

Blessed Be XOXOXOX


Without a word, Bobby wheeled himself through the doorway, struggling over the plush white carpet of the bedroom floor as he manoeuvred himself into my office. The exertion on his face was heartbreaking, and even though Callum stood behind him desperate to lend a hand, he would accept no assistance. Despite everything, he was determined to be as independent as possible, and God help anyone who tried to help him.

He was an obstinate bastard, but there had never been anyone who had garnered more of my respect than he did. To have survived for so long on his own, confined to the wheelchair he despised so much, was beyond miraculous.

He was a Hero. A legend.

Truth be told, it was probably his pig-headedness that had seen him through the Apocalypse. He was too stubborn to give up… to give in. Too stubborn to let the end of the World get the best of him.

I admired him for that.

And in the weeks that he had been with us, helping in the fight against the godforsaken End Of The World, he had become as much a father figure to me as he was to the Winchester brothers. Underneath the gruff exterior of his tough guy façade lay a sweet, caring man with a heart of pure gold. He was a teddy bear.

It was easy to see why he meant so much to the brothers.

"What can I do for you, old man?" I asked with a sly smile, folding my hands across the bulbous swell of my belly. My son gave a solid kick to my kidney, or pancreas, or maybe some kind of intestine, and I could tell he was going to be strong. He was going to be big, and strong, and he was going to kick some serious ass.

Just like his daddy.

"That damn Ernie hit me" Bobby drawled with a hint of frustration in his voice. He lifted the cap from his brow, revealing a gash over his left eye and a thin rivulet of blood that trailed down the side of his rugged face. "Says I've been stealing his water. Damn old coot doesn't know what he's talking about" He pushed his fingers roughly through his hair, letting out a long, weary breath. He was tired.

Hell, we all were. This fight had been long, and hard, and it showed no sign of ending any time soon. A good night's sleep was a commodity far too hard to come by. We were all struggling, but we were determined to keep going. We couldn't give up.

After we had come so far, after we had won so many battles and lost so many good people, we could not give up.

"I don't think it's too bad" Bobby continued. "Nothing to get my panties in a twist about, any how"

Ernie, pushing eighty, was a sweet old man who suffered from occasional bouts of senility-induced paranoia. Usually tottering around with a walking frame, he could be efficiently violent when he was worked up. He had accused almost everyone, including myself, of stealing from his water rations, though it was just a case of him having forgotten that he'd used it to bathe his bad-tempered terrier, Bert.

I shifted my weight in the armchair, and with an unlady-like grunt that drew an amused expression from Castiel, I attempted to haul myself to my feet. But the pillows were too soft and too deep, and my ever-expanding figure was too awkward to manage the seemingly easy feat. I looked up at my Guardian Angel with pleading eyes, and pouted just a little. I wasn't proud to admit it, but I had him wrapped around my little finger.

With a cheeky roll of his eyes, that he had no doubt learned from me, he stepped forward and slipped his hands into mine, gently helping my from the chair. On my feet at last, I leaned against him for a moment to regain my balance, my centre of gravity shifting more and more as my belly grew bigger.

And boy had it grown! I was so big that I barely recognised my body anymore. Long gone was the slender figure that I had been blessed with, replaced by ample curves and a set of boobs to rival Pamela Anderson. I struggled to fit into my clothes, and had taken to wearing Dean's shirts and cut-off shorts with an elastic waistband. And even they were getting too small as they weeks went by.

I was so big that Addie thought it was funny to joke that maybe I was having twins.

I did not find it in the least bit amusing.

The thought of giving birth to just one child was scary enough. I had seen labour first hand, and I could not imagine pushing two babies out of me. The thought alone was enough to make me cringe and cross my legs.

Giving Cass a grateful pat on the shoulder, I stepped across to Bobby and leaned down to inspect the wound. The flow of blood seemed to have stopped, but the cut was deep. The flesh around it was already starting to bruise, and I would bet anything that it hurt like the dickens.

Ernie had clocked him a good one. He sure was a wrinkly force to be reckoned with.

"Looks like you're gonna need a few stitches" I said, straightening and rubbing my aching back. It was just one in a long list of discomforts that were plaguing me. "Let me just get something to numb you up some" I looked across at Callum and Cass, giving them a silent signal to give us some privacy. They both nodded and left the room, closing the door behind me.

"Don't bother with that crap" Bobby said with a dismissive shake of his hand. "Just get it over and done with"

Stubborn, and as tough as old leather.

"OK" I smiled, walking across to the dresser that served as my medical supply closet. After a recent excursion to a hospital several towns over, we were well equipped to deal with any emergencies that might come our way.

I opened the top drawer and found a suture kit. The fact that I knew what a suture kit was, and how to use one, still amazed me. I used to be a humble waitress, baking pies and serving an endless line of customers who thought it was OK to grab my ass as I walked by, and now I was a quasi-doctor. I mended broken bones. I stitched up gaping wounds and treated burns. I diagnosed illnesses and prescribed medicine to cure their ills.

I was doing something important in this World. Something that would actually make a difference.

It felt good.

Moving to sit in a low stool beside Bobby, I spread the kit out across my lap and expertly threaded a thin needle. Nestled in my belly, my son kicked again, and I knew that, when he was old enough, I would teach him everything I knew. I would teach him everything I had learned over these last few months, and everything I still had to learn.

He would have his part in the new World. He would do good when it was his turn to lead the troops into whatever the future held.

"This is gonna hurt" I said honestly, snapping on a pair of gloves.

"Well then, girlie, you'd better get it over and done with" he said gruffly.

Laughing, I quickly pressed the needle through the edges of the gash and drew the thread together, tying the ends off. He didn't even flinch, barely reacting to the sharp pain of the needle poking through the tender flesh. Tough old bastard was damn near invincible.

"And…" I started, tying off the last suture and dabbing the wound with a dark yellow antiseptic. "We are done, my friend. Good as new…Almost"

There was a hint of a smile at my lame joke.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, nodding slightly at my belly.

"Like a freaking whale" I sighed, pulling uncomfortably at the flannel shirt stretched tight across my belly. "Have you seen the size of my ass?"

"You're doing something real brave there, girlie" he said softly, playing with the cap in his hands.

"Brave?" I smiled, rising to my feet and dropping my rubbish into the trash can. "All I'm doing is what Mother Nature intended for me"

"While the World rots around you and demons're breathing down your neck. With everything you're facing, the fact that you're still doing all this good is admirable. I don't know if that husband of yours has told you, but…" He looked up at me with a tender concern in his eyes that touched me deeply. "What you're doing is goddamn brave. And don't let anyone else tell you different"

"Thanks, Bobby" I said, my voice wavering with a sudden rush of emotion. I fought back the wave of tears that had been lurking just below the surface for several months, threatening to overwhelm me when I was happy, sad, angry, and even horny.

Freaking hormones.

Suddenly, the door behind us burst open and just like the Hero from a Hollywood blockbuster, Dean stepped into the room exuding an aura of cool perfection. Wearing only a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a rude slogan printed across the chest, and his leather jacket, he was so heartbreakingly handsome that for a moment I thought he was a mirage. That my mind, desperate for the physical satisfaction that only he could provide, had conjured him into existence just to tease me.

"Honey, I'm home" he grinned, stepping forward and taking me into his arms. Without further ado, even with Bobby still in the room, awkwardly doing his best to look anywhere but at us, he kissed me with enough passion that I saw stars.

"You're so cool" I breathed when he drew back, light-headed from the muchly-welcomed assault of his perfect lips.

He kissed me again, softer this time, then dropped to his knees before me. Holding his hands to either side of my mountainous belly, he lifted my shirt and pressed his lips to the swell of my abdomen. Nestled safely inside me, our son moved against his father's touch. He knew he was there.

"Hey, little buddy, have you been good to mommy?" he smiled, looking up at me. He was going to be a wonderful father, there was no question about it.

Together, we watched in awe as our son's impossibly tiny hand appeared, pressed through the taut flesh as though reaching out to us. Dean brushed his fingers against the protruding form of our sons hand, and I wondered if he could feel the touch. Nestled under my heart, I wondered if he knew how much we already loved him. His hand lingered for a few heartbeats, then he turned inside me and it was gone.

He was there. He was real.

He was ours.