We're getting close to the big moment! :-O

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Sam parked the Impala in front of the diner in Topeka, head throbbing as he thought of Rachel nearing labor in a month's time. It was all so fast, so soon. Everything seemed to be rushed. No clothes, no diapers, no supplies of any kind. They didn't even have furniture. Not that furniture mattered in the big scheme of things. Grace for Rachel was his top priority. Everything else would have to wait, even if it really couldn't.

Sam exited the car, locking it and pocketing the keys. With a quick glimpse at his phone, Sam found one text from Dean:

Rach is still sleeping. Be careful, k? Don't do anything stupid. Info, then back here.

Sam took a few seconds to type out a half-hearted reply:

Got it. Be sure to make her rest.

Locking his phone, he tucked it into his jeans pocket, checking his angel blade and gun for the fifth time since stepping out of the car. Gavin was the most solid lead they had. Castiel might've been convinced that tracking Rachel's essence back to her place of birth was a solid option, but to Sam, it sounded like a long shot he now couldn't afford. Worse came to worse, he had come prepared to strong-arm some grace, even if it wasn't hers. Besides, he had a good chip to bargain with. He picked it up on the way. The transaction would be simple.

With a pat on the trunk of the car, Sam headed for the diner and opened the door, the bell attached jingling above him. A waitress with hot pink lipstick gave him a bright smile. "Just one?" she asked, batting her eyes as he sat at the counter.

Her question immediately made him remember the ring sitting back in his room in the bunker. It was white gold, double banded, and adorned with a round one carat diamond. The ring had taken every penny of three high-stakes pool hustles, Sam sealing the deal on a game of Double Or Nothing. Currently, it was nestled in a small black box lined with velvet, buried under his personal weapon collection in his bureau. Sam had wanted to put it on Rachel's finger for so long, but the timing was never right. "Just one," he replied, offering her a polite smile that shut the waitress down fairly quickly.

The waitress dropped off a menu, and Sam watched as she slipped toward the rear of the restaurant. He spotted the door to the back kitchen, watching it intently. He had called and verified that Gavin was working that shift, so now it was only a matter of time. He'd wait to approach him until he could secure him. The last thing Sam wanted or needed was for Gavin to up and ghost again.

Sam sipped the coffee he ordered, his mind spinning with worries and underlying excitement. His adrenaline was pumped, and he was pretty sure caffeine added to it was a terrible move. At the same time, his body ached with a resounding tiredness. It had been well over six months since he felt any semblance of relaxation. Rachel wasn't to blame at all. If anyone was, it was himself. They hadn't been able to catch a break of any kind, and it didn't seem like one was coming soon. Despite the stress, though, he was painfully excited about meeting his son. What would he look like? What would it feel like to hold him? To see him in Rachel's arms? Would Robbie know him as well as he seemed to know Rachel?

Sam caught a glimpse of a lanky man moving quietly to the coffee cups, watching as the waiter poured coffee in them and brought them to the far end of the counter. "Excuse me," Sam said, gaining the waiter's attention. "Mind if I get a refill?"

Gavin swallowed hard, his nerves not well concealed. "S-Sure." He brought the pot to Sam, who shifted in his seat as Gavin poured. "Sam Winchester. So, uh … What, um, brings you here?"

"Information," Sam said quietly.

"About your girlfriend." Gavin froze, not meaning to spill the beans so easily. He saw Sam's surprised reaction. "I mean, it's just … She's a …"

"How do you know about her?"

"Your girlfriend's the talk of the town. So is your boy."

"That so?"

"I mean, yeah. Whoever doesn't want her wants him."

Sam gave Gavin a cool smile, leaning in a little. "Here's the deal: You give me what I want, and I won't run my blade through you."

An air of cockiness flowed over Gavin. "You don't think I'll fight?"

"Nah," Sam said with a smirk. "Know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I've got your brother, Tony, bound in my trunk."

Gavin's eyes rounded. "No, you don't."

Sam pulled out the necklace he had taken off the nephilim before binding him with angel-proofing. "I do." He pulled it back as Gavin went to snatch it. "So, you've got one shot at this. Tell me where to find grace for her, or he dies."

"Huh." Gavin straightened, quiet for a moment. "'Kay. But I'm not talking here."

"Where?" Sam asked, eyes narrowed.

"Meet me out back in five minutes."

Hesitantly, Sam nodded, watching Gavin slip back into the kitchen. Taking out a wad of cash, Sam left the money for his coffee and exited the diner. He felt his angel blade as he stepped into the darkness. Desperation drove him forward. It was wrong, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the possibility for disaster. But he kept on course, eyes peeled.

His path took him toward the side of the diner, blade readied. He saw Gavin by the side door, and he headed toward him.

Only, he didn't make it. The world went dark as he was knocked out cold.


Dean paced the kitchen, taking long swigs of his beer as he checked his phone for the third time in a minute. Still, nothing from Sam. His mother and Bobby had resumed relocation efforts earlier that week, leaving the bunker empty except for himself, Sam, Rachel, Jack, and Castiel. Slamming his bottle down, he again dialed his brother's cell. The voicemail picked up for a fifth time. "Dammit, Sammy, answer your phone. Call me as soon as you get this."

Hanging up, Dean leaned on the counter and tossed his phone aside. It had been three hours, and not a word from his brother. And with Sam, no news was typically bad news. Maybe he just was on edge and not giving Sam enough credit, Dean thought. Or maybe not. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't ignore his gut—something wasn't right.

Castiel approached Dean quietly through the doorway, hesitant. "Anything?"

"No," Dean growled. He sighed heavily, eyeing the bottle in front of him on the counter. "I need to go after him."

"You can't leave Rachel," Castiel argued.

Dean turned and faced the angel with a point. "Um, yeah I can. Because gigantor needs his ass bailed out, more than likely, so you're going to watch her."

"Jack can watch her. I will go with you."

Dean shook his head. "No offense to Jack, but he nearly blew her up the last time he tried to help."

"Dean—"

"Just … Just stay here. I need to make sure someone experienced with grace is watching her."

As Dean readied to leave the kitchen, a raspy voice caught his attention. "Sam?" Both men watched in surprise as Rachel slowly stepped toward them. Sweat beaded on her brow, her breathing labored.

"Rach?" Dean asked, moving to her. His lips parted as she looked up at him. She looked sick.

"Where's Sam?" she asked.

Dean watched as she bit her lip and swallowed back a moan. "Topeka," he murmured, panic building within, his answers nearly mechanical.

"Why?"

"Trying to get intel out of Gavin."

Rachel shook her head. "Gavin … From the diner?"

Dean nodded, but wasn't really listening. "Not important right now. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Wiping her brow, Rachel began to speak, but cowered over, her hand on her stomach. Dean rushed to her side, supporting her as she gasped. "I think …" She squeezed around his hand, Dean yelping in surprise at her strength. "I think my water broke in bed."

Eyes wide, Dean felt his pulse stop. "What?! No, no, no! He's early!"

"Tell him that!" Rachel grumbled through gritted teeth.

Castiel stepped in front of her, brow creased as he examined her with a gentle touch to her womb. "She's right, Dean. Her labor has begun. It's likely Robbie's way of trying to protect her after the examination."

"So, stop it!" Dean growled to him.

"I can't. It's not possible."

"I need …" Rachel began, then cried out in pain against a contraction.

Dean held her upright, his heart racing. "You need to breathe," he urged, grabbing a rag behind him and wiping her brow. "Bed. Now." He guided her to hers and Sam's room, eyes wide as he saw the soiled sheets. "Cas," he called out, wrinkling his nose. The angel came in quickly, snapping his fingers and producing clean linens. Dean led Rachel toward the freshly made bed as she huffed. "Easy, kiddo, breathe. In and out."

"Why didn't he tell me he was going?" Rachel asked, wincing as she laid down.

"You were asleep."

"Doesn't matter."

"He, uh … Shit, you know how Sammy gets."

"Yeah. He gets like an idiot."

Dean shrugged. "You're not wrong." He looked to Castiel. "How much time does she have?"

Castiel drew in a shaky breath. "It could be anywhere between eight to twelve hours. Maybe more. We have to monitor her dilation."

Dean held up his hands in surrender. "No. Uh-uh. Not it."

"Dean, I … I can't. You should …"

"Hell no!"

"Oh my God, both of you—stop being bitches about it," Rachel growled. "Someone take off my pants and panties."

Both men looked at each other with wide eyes. Dean gulped. "Uh …"

Rachel eyed them. "I know you both have plenty of experience." Castiel and Dean hesitated. "Do it!" she ordered, her tone scaring the two into action.

Dean and Castiel scurried to do as told, both trying to avoid seeing anything as they removed her clothes from her bottom half, covering her with a sheet. Castiel peeked under it, examining her. "Dean, I'm guessing she's about three centimeters."

With a deep breath, Dean nodded. "Alright." A lump formed in his throat as he watched her labored breathing. "Cas," he barked, tightening his jaw, "take as much pain from her as you can while I'm gone."

"No," Rachel pleaded, snagging Dean's hand, "please, don't leave."

"I have to, sweetheart." Dean smoothed Rachel's hair from her eyes as Castiel laid his hand on her womb. He saw a sense of partial relief flow over her. "I'm going to bring that giant back here to help you do this, okay?"

Dean gave her a quick kiss to her forehead. "You protect her with your life," he warned Castiel stiffly, pointing at the angel. "You hear?"

Before Castiel could answer, Dean moved to leave, only to be blocked by Jack. "No," Jack argued softly, brow furrowed as he saw Rachel's struggle. "Stay, Dean. I'll find Sam."

"Jack, you can't—"

"It's suicide for you," Jack interrupted. He eyed him. "Stay with her." With a deep breath, he handed Dean a vile. A small amount of blue grace glowed within. "And give her this."

"No, Jack," Rachel whispered, sweat covering her brow. "Take it back. You'll weaken yourself."

"I'll be fine," he insisted. "This should be enough until I bring Sam back with more."

Dean reluctantly took the vile, gripping Jack's arm. With a small nod of appreciation, he uncapped it, holding it in front of Rachel's mouth. The grace slowly traveled from the glass into her mouth, Rachel sucking it in involuntarily. She gasped as she finished, her eyes glowing to a light blueish purple color. Sitting up a little, Rachel panted, looking at the three men in front of her. A coolness flowed through her veins, light traveling within each inch of her body. Calm flowed over her, the grace seeming to slow her contractions a bit. A milky haze filled her sight and mind, everything just a bit more smudged than before, yet somehow clearer than it had ever been.

Blinking slowly, Rachel focused on Jack. "Bring him back," she said with an evenness that surprised Dean and Castiel, as if her voice wasn't her own.

Still, Jack wasn't surprised. He smiled a little. "I will."

Dean turned his focus back onto Rachel. "You okay?" he asked, uneasy as he looked her over. She seemed stiff, calculated. Had the small amount of Jack's grace changed her?

Rachel nodded. "No," she countered herself in a whisper. "But he is. He's so strong, Dean. I don't know if I can ..."

"You listen to me," Dean told her, taking her hand, "you're gonna be just fine. You hear?"

She heard him, but she didn't believe him in the slightest. "Dean, he's—"

"You'll be fine," Dean insisted. "You, Robbie … You're both gonna be fine."

There was no way Rachel could believe him, though. Not with the way she felt Robbie's power pulling through her body. "Please," she begged Jack, "just … Bring Sam home."

Jack gave her a nod, disappearing.