Disclaimer: I don't own anything your recognise except for my OCs.

"Good begets good; evil begets evil; and even if the good you give is met by evil, you have no choice but to go on giving better than you get. Otherwise-and these were Willy's exact words-why bother to go on living?" Paul Auster, Timbuktu

Chapter 21

The sun was relentlessly beaming down on the salvage yard while the birds excitedly chirped in the trees, well hidden away from the scorching heat. From somewhere an orchestra of insect noises could be heard and the earth hummed in satisfaction.

Isabeau hurried down the few steps from the kitchen and briskly stared walking into the salvage yard. Not really going for a specific direction just as long as it was away from the house. She heard her name being called but she didn't stop. She just wanted a moment to herself. She kept walking faster, trying to outrun the noise that kept following her. The birds' and bugs' singing became a veritable cacophony of buzzing, chirping, whirring and zitzing.

Aimlessly she made her way through an ocean of long forgotten cars, busses, tractors and tires, trying to outrun the heat that kept bouncing off the scrap metal. She felt it reflect against her skin but she didn't stop. She felt surrounded, cornered and scared.

With the noise all around her, she had an unexplainable urge to keep going and thus continued walking until a thin line of sweat started forming on her brow and slowly dribbled down the side of her face. Her throat felt dry and her chest was heaving up and down but she couldn't stop. It was like nature was pushing her to go further. Like she was supposed to be looking for something or someone but she didn't know who or what.

She finally stopped after tripping over the umpteenth patch of grass that suddenly sprang up from the gravel path she had been following. She slowed down and looked up, realizing there were not as many scrap metal around. She must've reached the edge of the scrap yard as there were only a few cars here and there but mostly old worn out tires and a clump of trees.

Something at the outer edge of the area in front of her shone into her eyes. Frowning she brought her hand up over her eyes to have a better look. There, between the branches and underbush was some shiny green metal reflecting the sun back at her. Cautiously she ventured forward to investigate what exactly the cause of the reflection was.

Buried under years of undergrowth, an old green VW Beetle sat waiting to be discovered one last time. Aside from the three wheels buried deep within the earth and a couple of windows missing, it seemed well preserved as it was partially hidden inside the underbrush.

Smiling to herself, she remembered the well-loved movie, Herbie, which was one of her dad's favourites. They would spend hours watching old movies, and talking about long forgotten actors and shows. Isabeau carefully pulled branches and leaves aside, walking past the fallen beetle until she finally came to a clearing.

As she stepped into the open field, it was absolutely quiet around her. Not a sound could be heard. Neither bird nor bug made any beep and even the sun suddenly hid behind a cloud. You could hear a pin drop. Isabeau closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh air around her.

It was as if, for the first time since she's woken up at Bobby's house, she could breathe fresh air. She filled her lungs, counted to ten and let it out slowly. Feeling a strange calmness washing over her, she reveled in the moment, wishing it would last forever.

Spreading her arms wide around her, she twirled and danced around in the dry grass. She felt free and could think clearly. Her mind felt calm as she slowly opened her eyes. Everything felt strangely familiar, as if in a dream. She looked all around her. The field stretched out far into the horizon and though she knew she'd never been there before, it was as if she could touch the memory if she concentrated hard enough.

"Isabeau?" Isabeau jumped at the sound of her name being called. Nelle had stepped through the trees behind her and was cautiously making her way towards the clearing to where Isabeau was standing.

As if it was on cue, the noise was back. The sun peeked out from behind the cloud and the birds and bugs reprised their song.

"Hey Nelle." Isabeau walked towards the other girl. "I'm sorry I ran off like that. I just … ugh, I couldn't stand being there anymore. I needed a moment to think, you know."

"I understand." Nelle said smiling, before she turned around and moved towards a fallen tree log, lying to the one side next to a bunch of rocks under a tree. "Come sit here in the shade with me, the sun is being murderous today."

Taking a deep breath, Isabeau followed her towards the log. Sitting down, Nelle offered a breath mint which she gladly took.

"I didn't know about this place." Nelle said as she looked around, breaking the awkward silence between them. Isabeau swung her one leg over the log, so she sat straddling it.

"It was weird; it was like I was being called here." Isabeau said, shrugging her shoulders before looking up at Nelle. "I felt so conflicted and confused inside the kitchen I just had to get away. Suddenly it feels like I can freely breathe and think, you know, though I'm still not quite sure what exactly I'm doing."

"Don't worry about it. We've all been there." Nelle said. "I've been there having to choose between going into the unknown and staying where it felt safe. Don't beat yourself up. Change is good sometimes."

"But I can't help but worry about what is next for me. I don't think anyone else has had this experience. I mean, in the dream world things were easy and magical because it was so unreal and dreamy. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to indulge a little, maybe too much. But this is real life and here the rules are different. There are no unicorns and magic sparkles when I get happy. Here I have a set of rules to live by, good Christian morals and values. I have commitments and responsibilities. I can't just snap my fingers like Mary Poppins or click my heals like Dorothy. Things don't work like that in this life."

"Are you afraid of what could be if you embrace the possibility?"

"Well, it's not really a case of being afraid you know… it's more like I have this war going on inside me. On the one end I miss the dream world so damn much I wish I could go back." A sob hitched in her throat and she clasped her hand over her heart. "And just by saying that out loud I'm so scared I've jinxed things and that the spell will turn bad and we will literally find ourselves back there and it won't be the same. I can almost see it – evil dark thunderous clouds instead of the beauty that shone all around us. But on the other end I feel that I will betray my parents by walking away from everything I was taught as a child – about witches and evil. Shun evil, stay away from all wickedness and sorcery; follow a path of truth and righteousness. By accepting the possibility that I am what they say, I will betray them and everything they taught me."

"Have you considered the possibility that what they say is true? That you might be a witch? You will be like Rowena then, right?"

"I don't know, Nelle. Facing the possibility that my blood is not pure South African, I feel like I'm betraying my family, my people and even my country. Who am I then? Has my entire life been a lie? Did my parents lie to me? Was my mom secretly a witch with a dark past? How come I've never even been remotely interested in any of this since before I met Sam? Wouldn't there have been some hints already, forcing me in that direction? Everything seems so sinister."

"Perhaps it is as Rowena suggested; maybe you had to turn a certain age to realize you have them."

"That doesn't make sense. If I'm not aware of them, how can they be?"

"Because they are in tune with these things. You only just found out about it. Give it a chance."

Isabeau got up from the log and started pacing. It grew quiet between them except for the overpowering sound of the insect song. It seemed to have a competition with the silence, trying to drown it out completely.

"I know I'm over thinking things but considering for one moment that I embrace the idea of being a witch and releasing this power they say I have, will I get long silver hair with a face full of warts and a black cat that chases mice and bats all day long? It sounds silly and stupid, I know. And you might think I'm nuts but those are the pictures of witches I have. They are evil and mean and bad. Should I accept Rowena's help to release that which she believes is inside of me, and risk becoming just that. A crooked woman living in the woods with a house made of candy to lure kids inside so I can eat them? Or maybe I'll become the one that poisons apples and kill princesses."

Nelle chuckled at the description and shook her head. "You're right, you're over thinking this. But I doubt you will become that, Isabeau. You are kindhearted and good." She smiled up at Isabeau but her smile soon faltered at the deep frown on the troubled girl's face.

"Am I really? I was taught to shun evil, be innocent of it, stay away from it, and deny friendships with people who practice witchcraft and such. All my life I've been careful to follow a righteous path and now I'm faced with some person's viewpoint of a possibility and you want me to just accept it? I can't just throw caution in the wind and walk into this blindly. While the dream world was a magical place, there were no rules. But here there are rules for everything. And if I chase this and yearn for it, I'm afraid of what could happen. I could go to hell for this. How can I just turn my back on all that I am, all that I have been taught – that monsters and creatures are evil? If I embrace this power they say I have, I'll no longer be human, but an evil creature."

"Not all supernatural creatures are evil, Isabeau. There are many good ones out there. You've met Rowena and Cas. They are both good people. I believe they both have the ability to be evil but for the little bit I've know them, they are good and kind and want to help. Every person in this world has the ability to become evil, especially humans, believe me I know, but just because you are a creature don't mean you are bad. Look at a lion or a bear. They are wild animals, yes, but are they evil? No. They do what is in their nature. Hunt and kill to survive. Does killing make them evil? No. They are using their God-given talents to do that which they were meant to do. A lion has its roar and a bear has its strength. I believe the same can be said for us. Each one of us is given a certain set of talents and abilities to use at specific times in our lives. We choose what we do with those talents. We use it for good or for evil."

Sighing deeply, Isabeau sat down next to Nelle again, staring out over the field.

"Look, I don't say jump into this with your eyes closed but what have you got to lose? Why don't you take a chance, explore this a bit, figure things out and in the end, if you really don't like it or want to be anything other than human, then I'm sure Cas and Rowena will make a plan to take it all away. But at least try it out, you won't know what you're capable if you don't explore the possibilities."

"You remind me of my mom. She used to say 'Try everything at least once and the nice things twice'."

"Well, there you go. That's a good motto to live by." Nelle chuckled as she got up from the log, extending her hand for Isabeau to take. "We should probably get back before they send out a search party."

"Yeah." Isabeau said as she grabbed Nelle's hand and pulled herself up. "You're right, we don't want them to get upset or anything." They both giggled and started walking towards the rusted Beetle. Pushing the branches aside, they easily found their way back into the salvage yard again. Nelle was first, followed closely by Isabeau. As they walked back along the tires towards the beginning of the scrap metal again, Isabeau suddenly felt like she was being watched. Looking back over her shoulder, she quickly scanned the area behind them but upon seeing nothing, she shrugged her shoulders and they kept on walking back towards the house.

"You shouldn't wander off like that." Castiel suddenly spoke as he appeared between them, causing both girls to scream.

"Dammit Cas, you just about gave me a heart attack!" Isabeau shouted as she smacked the angel against the chest with the back of her hand.

"I apologise." He said without flinching. "Sam and Dean are worried. It's not safe out here. I've come to take you home." Cas said as he touched both their arms and before either of them could say anything they were standing in Bobby's kitchen.

ooOoo

"Nice of you to drop in." Adam smirked as he slowly sipped his coffee.

Swaying a bit on the spot, the girls shook their heads as they tried to comprehend what just happened.

"Nelle, Iz." Both brothers rushed forward, engulfing the girls in hugs and then proceeded to check them over for injuries.

"I'm fine, Sam." Isabeau was the first to speak up as she lightly push him away. Annoyed she looked about the room before her eyes fell on Cas. "What was that? Air Angel?"

Giggles from the side distracted her. "It's cool, right?" Andrea said as she set her coffee mug down.

"Uhm, yeah, I suppose." Isabeau glared at the angel again. "Just give a girl warning next time." She said as she turned to Sam. "I'm sorry I stormed off earlier. I…"

"Shhh," he said as he took her in his arms again. "I understand everything is overwhelming and sudden and they had no right to dump everything on you at once - how are you feeling now?"

Isabeau nestled into his side. His large frame just about engulfed her completely. It was warm in his embrace and familiar. She missed it.

"I'm better. Nelle talked some sense into me, I think." She smiled then pulled away slightly and fully looked at the kitchen area. It was littered with books and coffee mugs. Against the one wall a large collage of paper was pasted with various points and pictures highlighted. "What on earth?"

"We're researching." Andrea piped up as she walked past her friend to deposit her empty mug in the basin.

"Researching what?" Isabeau asked confused.

"Well, we decided to treat this like any other case and start with what we know and go from there. We're exploring all angles from this case. You, me, the dream world; of course the grimoire and coin and all the players. Also all the symbolism on the book and the ones we encountered at the cabin. Not leaving anything out. Perhaps this is bigger than just you and me." Sam excitedly explained as he showed her the mind map. A tiny red string was already connecting a few points.

"You did all this in the past fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen minutes? Iz, you've been gone for hours." Sam said frowning.

"Hours? No, I just left. I wasn't gone that long."

"You were, both of you. That's why Cas went looking for you."

Shaking her head, Isabeau sat down in the nearest chair at the table. Kneeling by her side, Sam took her hand in his. "Let me get you something to drink. What would you like?"

"Yeah okay…uhm…maybe some tea?"

Sam nodded as he got up and quickly walked over to the cupboard to make some tea.

Looking at the table in front of her, a book caught Isabeau's eyes. "Hey, what is this?" She asked as she pulled the book closer. On the page was a picture of a large brown book with dates, written on brownish paper.

"It's a Parish Register." Bobby said leaning closer. "A handwritten volume recording major events such as births, baptisms, marriages and burials. Along with these vital details, notes on various happenings in the parish were also recorded."

"So it's like a diary for the church." Nelle asked as she leaned closer.

"You could say that, yes." Bobby said as he sat back into his chair again. "A good register permitted the family structure of the community and can be traced as far back as the sixteenth century. Many historians and genealogists would trace these records down for verification on family trees, etcetera."

"I've seen something like this." Isabeau said as she flipped the pages, looking at other examples of registers.

"You have? Where?" Sam asked as he set her tea in front of her.

"Back home, at my childhood church. It used to be a Presbyterian church in the early eighteen hundreds but it was abandoned and later Oupa bought the building and established another church inside. They kept all the old furniture and things like this book. It was displayed in a glass case as you entered the church auditorium through the foyer. I've never actually thought about the book since I've never seen anyone write in it. I just thought it was decoration as it came with the building."

"Quick question, Isabeau." Dean said as he joined the table. "Were your parents attending that church when you were born?"

"Yes. It's Oupa's church. My dad was a deacon there while I grew up, why."

"Good thinking, Dean!" Sam said excited before turning to Isabeau. "This might be the clue we've been looking for. We need a record of your birth. You think you can ask the church if they continued the tradition of the old Presbyterian Church and kept record of all the major events happening in their community?"

"What?" Isabeau frowned. "You think they made a note of my birth?

"That's exactly what we are hoping for." Dean smirked at her.

"I…uhm…I suppose I could. Oupa isn't there anymore though, there's another minister now."

"Oopa?" Sam asked, totally mispronouncing the word, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from both Isabeau and Andrea.

"Not Oopa, silly. It's 'Ou' as in 'Oh' and 'pa' as in 'paparazzi' – it's the Afrikaans word for Granddad. He had to retire due to the onset of early Alzheimer's.

"Oh ooooh," Sam said before squeezing her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear about your Oo…uhm Grandfather's condition." Sam said compassionately.

"It's fine." Isabeau leaned into his touch. "I've made my peace with it, you know. He's in a great care facility. He doesn't remember me anymore and I barely go there since my parents are both gone. There's nothing left for me in that town. Andrea has been my home for many years now." She smiled up at him.

"Well," Sam looked at the clock. "I know there's a time difference and that South Africa is about eight hours before us, so it's a bit early to phone now. But perhaps we can do so later this evening? What do you say?" He asked expectantly, looking at Isabeau.

"Yeah, what the hell. I suppose it will be nice to chat to some familiar voices." She smiled back at him.

ooOoo

Isabeau's hand trembled as she dialed the number of her childhood church. Growing up it was her safe haven. While waiting for the phone to start ringing, she thought about the church kitchen that always smelled like freshly baked scones and the church house with the carpeted stairs leading up to some pretty awesome hiding spots on the first floor and she smiled as she thought about the jar of toffees on the church secretary's desk. Between cake sales and playing on the church organ with Aunty Dawn, the church organist, Isabeau grew up in a happy church family. Between her grandfather being the minister and her dad as a deacon, her mom organized cake sales, Christmas lunches for the elderly and all the Christmas services.

She wasn't sure how she was going to phrase this strange or did she even dare say, stupid request. Her grandfather was already retired and a new minister had taken over from him a couple of years now. She actually doubted the church secretary would remember her, if she was even still alive. Her train of thought was interrupted when the call was answered on the other side.

"Maranatha AGS, Colleen wat praat." ("Maranatha AFM, Colleen speaking.")

"Tannie Colleen!" ("Aunty Colleen!") Isabeau squealed. "Ek weet nie of jy my onthou nie, maar dis Isabeau Fourie wat praat." ("I don't know if you remember me, but it's Isabeau Fourie speaking.")

"My genade, kind, natuurlik onthou ek jou! Na soveel jare! Hoe gaan dit? " ("My gosh child, of course I remember you! How are you? It has been ages!")

"Dit gaan baie goed met my en hoe gaan dit met tannie?" ("I'm very well thank you, how are you?")

"Ag sommer baie goed. Jy klink nou amper nes jou ma, kindjie. Wat kan ek vir jou doen op hierdie wonderlike dag?" ("Oh just splendid. Child, you almost sounded just like your mother. What can I do for you on this fine day?")

"Wel, ek het 'n snaakse versoek." ("Uhm, I have a strange request.")

"Enigiets vir jou, my kind." ("Anything for you, my dear.")

"Wel, ek is besig met 'n navorsingsprojek en ek het inligting nodig rondom my geboorte." ("Well, I'm doing a research project and I need to find out some information regarding my birth.")

"O ja?" ("Oh?") The elderly lady's voice changed a bit but Isabeau didn't let that steer her from her course.

"Ja wel, tannie sien, uhm, die ding is so, ek moet uitvind of daar enigiets spesiaal was rondom die dag waarop ek gebore is. Miskien het iets gebeur in die dorp of gedurende die week van my geboorte? Ek onthou die kerk het so 'n boek gehad waarin al die geboortes en belangrike gebeure van die lidmate opgeskryf is en ek onthou Oupa het my eenkeer vertel dat ek by die kerk gebore is maar ek het hom nooit na details gevra nie. Ek's so bang dis dalk te laat om te probeer grawe vir meer inligting." ("Yeah, you see, uhm, things like, uhm, you know, anything that was special about the day I was born or maybe something that happened in the town during the week of my birth? I was told that the church kept record of such occurrences and I know granddad once told me that I was actually born at the church but I never bothered to get the details from him and I'm so scared it might be too late to try and dig for them now.")

"O ja, ek onthou so iets." ("Oh, yes, I remember something like that.") Aunty Colleen said.

"So as tannie dalk 'n record het van my geboorte of enigiets wat sal help, sal ek dit baie waardeer." ("So if you maybe have such a record of my birth date or anything really that could help, I would really appreciate it.")

"Wel liefie, ek kan vir jou kyk. Genade, ons gebruik nie meer daardie ou boek nie. Alles is nou digitaal. Die jonge Dominic het 'n baie gesofistikeerde sisteem geïnstalleer en hulle moes hierdie ou tante oplei want ons skryf dit nie meer met die hand nie. Sover ek weet is daardie boek nou in die kerk se kluis en al die inligting is op die rekenaar. Dit mag dalk 'n tydjie neem om dit vir jou te kry." ("Well, lovey, I can have a look for you. Gosh, it's been so long since we've actually used that book. Everything is digital now. We had young Dominic here that installed a very impressive system for us and I had to get training in how to do everything in my old age, so we don't write it down anymore. As far as I know that book is in the church safe. All the details were recorded on the computer. It might take some time for me to access that for you."

"O tannie Coleen, enige inligting sal so waardeer word. Ek het dit baie dringend nodig." ("Oh Aunty Colleen, anything you can give me, I will so much appreciate it. But I need the information as soon as possible.")

"O ek sien. Wel, miskien kan ek daarna soek en jou terugskakel?" ("Oh I see. Well, perhaps I can have a look and then phone you back?")

"Ag, as tannie nie omgee om nou te kyk nie, sal ek sommer aanhou, dis geen moeite nie." ("Uhm, well, if you won't mind looking for the info now, I'll hold the line. It's no trouble.")

"Goed dan, ek's nou weer by jou." ("Very well dear, just one moment please.")

"Perfek, dankie tannie Colleen." ("Perfect. Thank you, Aunty Colleen.")

Isabeau held her hand over the mouth piece of the phone as she motioned the team to come closer.

"What's happening?" Sam asked.

"She's getting the info." Isabeau explained in hushed tones. "She wanted to phone back, but I said I'll hold the line while she gets the information. Everything is digital now, they no longer write it in a book."

Pieter grinned widely, getting excited.

"Do you have ants in your pants?" Andrea asked annoyed.

"Don't you get it?" Pieter said grinning even wider now.

"What?" Isabeau and Andrea asked at the same time.

"We can hack the church system." He said excited rubbing his hands together.

"Hack the…" Frowning Isabeau looked sharply at Pieter. "You can't hack the church!"

"You know what," Sam replied smiling. "That's actually a great idea. Let me get my laptop."

"What's the point if she'll be giving me the info any moment now?" Isabeau argued.

"Who is to say she will actually tell you everything?" Pieter countered.

"You think she would lie?" Andrea asked.

"Well, no. But maybe there are details recorded that she doesn't deem important enough to share with you. We won't do any harm, it's just a peak." Sam said as he entered the living room with his laptop before sliding it over to Pieter who immediately started typing on it.

"Well, I suppose a small peak wouldn't hurt." Isabeau agreed reluctantly.

Several more minutes passed before Isabeau could resume her conversation with the church secretary. After another brief chat, she hung up the phone and sighed.

"What did she say?" Andrea asked curious.

"It was strange. She was actually very vague on the details just now. She said it was a stormy night. She remembered it specifically because the town lost power for over six hours that evening. She said there was a ladies' bible study in the church when my mom went into labor and because of the storm they couldn't go to the hospital. She and another lady assisted my mom and that's how I was born; by candle light because the power was out."

"So nothing else?" Pieter asked frowning as he continued typing.

"Well, she mentioned there was a fierce wind that blew all the doors open and some of the windows out."

"Like a tornado?"

"Well, she didn't specify it like that. Besides, there have never been tornados in that part of the country but yeah, maybe it was like that or maybe it was just a really strong wind." Isabeau shrugged. "I wonder who the other lady was, though. She said she couldn't remember."

"But you think she does?" Sam asked.

Isabeau bit her bottom lip as she thought back to their conversation. Aunty Colleen sounded hurried, as if she wanted the conversation over, like she didn't want to say too much. "Yeah. I don't know. She was much more excited to speak to me earlier."

"That sounds fishy though." Sam said as he turned to Pieter. "Found anything yet?"

"Yes, actually I'm in. You birthday in October, right Iz?" He asked.

"October first." She said annoyed. "You should know that."

"Yeah yeah," Pieter mumbled as he clicked away on the keyboard. "Aha! Found it!" He called out.

"What, what did you find?"

"Isabeau Fourie, born October first…yarra yarra yarra….birth mother Elisabet le Roux…. Midwives Colleen McLaren and Judy Johnson….oh and then there's an account of the weather. It's as she said, super storm, windows blown out, doors blown off their hinges…oh this is new." Pieter excitedly read out loud, not noticing that the room had grown increasingly quiet around him. "There was no rain just the freakishly strong wind." He said as he looked up. Isabeau's face was ash white and she was fighting back tears. "What?" He asked concerned. "What did I say?"

"M-my mother's name was Cora which is short for Cornelia. W-who is Elisabet le Roux?"

Pieter frowned as he double checked the information then turned the laptop screen so that Isabeau could read it herself.

"I-I don't understand." She looked from Pieter to Sam to Andrea and back to the screen. There was even a photo of the original book record as verification that the electronic data was correct.

"Maybe we can talk to the other midwife. Do you know her?" Andrea asked, rubbing Isabeau's hand.

Isabeau only nod. Aunty Judy had been in charge of the Church finances for many years but Isabeau never liked her much. She always frowned at her, whispered to her parents and stopped talking when Isabeau was in the room. Maybe she would have answers, but Isabeau wasn't sure she would be forthcoming with it. Looking up, she noticed everyone was looking at her expectantly.

"Oh sorry."

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked as he pulled her closer to him.

"Aunty Judy was never very nice to me. I doubt she would remember me or share information, if she could even remember that far back. I just don't know how we would be able to ask her."

"Let's ask Cas," Sam said. "Perhaps he could use his powers of persuasion to assist us in this regard."

"He'd do that? For me?" Isabeau looked skeptical. She felt she was already overstepping. She didn't want to have the angel run around doing favours for her. She was sure he had more important things in heaven to do.

"Sure." Sam said reassuringly before calling out to Castiel. Once the angel arrived, Sam quickly brought him up to speed on the latest developments after which he soon blinked out.

ooOoo

After supper, everyone was relaxing in the living room when Cas eventually returned to relay the information he found.

"Stop keeping us in suspense, Feathers." Rowena broke the ice as everyone enjoyed some coffee with ice cream and pecan nut pie Nelle baked earlier that evening.

Castiel briefly frowned in her direction before he cleared his throat.

"I was able to locate Judy Johnson. She no longer works at the church but though retired she was able to recall the event perfectly."

"How did you get her to tell you?" Nelle asked, after Sam, Isabeau, Andrea and Pieter brought everyone up to speed on the latest information found out from the church.

"Ask no questions, hear no lies." Dean grinned as he patted her leg before weaving his fingers through hers.

"The account of Isabeau's birth is indeed as it was recorded in the digital parish register. It was a stormy night and the ladies at the church gathered together for bible study. The wind blew the doors open and a girl was found outside the door on the steps. She was highly pregnant, begging for their assistance. It was at that stage that the power grid was affected by the storm and they were left in darkness. Guided only by candles and a few lanterns, the ladies were able to help deliver the child…uhm, you." Cas cleared his throat as he briefly looked at Isabeau and awkwardly smiled.

"The young girl introduced herself as Elisabet le Roux. She had no husband and demanded that her baby be called Isabeau. Judy never understood why she insisted. She breathed her final breath as Isabeau took her first one just as a violent wind blew the doors of the church auditorium off its hinges and of course, all the windows as well. Luckily nobody was hurt from the falling glass."

"So it's true then?" Isabeau sagged into Sam, feeling the dreaded reality take a hold of her.

"I'm sorry." Cas said; his blue eyes kind. "But that was not the end. Cora, the woman who raised you, was leading the bible study and though she and her husband have been trying for years, they couldn't have children of their own. Cora's father wanted to bless them and so he made arrangements through the church for your adoption. Only the ladies at the bible study knew the truth and they were all sworn to secrecy."

It was all too much for Isabeau. She jumped up and started pacing the living room. Up and down she walked, biting her bottom lip. "My entire life is a lie. I have nobody. My grandfather is fake. My parents were fake. M-my childhood is fake." Tears streamed down her face.

"Hey," Andrea said as she quickly stood up and embraced Isabeau. "Jy's my sussie, onthou. Ek't jou jare gelede al aangeneem en ek gaan jou nooit laat gaan nie. Jy's stuck met my, suster!" ("You're my sister, remember. I've adopted you all those years ago and I'm never letting you go. You're stuck with me, sista!") Andrea tried to comfort her but it seemed to only upset Isabeau more.

"I'm all alone." She sobbed against her best friend's shoulder.

"Now hang on just one minute there, darlin'." Bobby said. "Family don't end with blood and though we may not know you very long, I already consider you family because you love Sam and he loves you. We're all here for ya."

"He's right, you know." Sam said as Andrea graciously stepped back to let him comfort her. "You're my family now and family always has your back. It doesn't matter what you did, who you were or what you are, I told you I'll always love you."

"Even though I'm a nobody?" Isabeau asked sniffing into his shoulder.

"You're not a nobody, Isabeau Fourie" Sam said stepping back to cup her face and force her to look up at him. "You're my girl and I love you forever." Rubbing his thumb over her cheek he bent down and sealed his promise with a sweet kiss.

"So what happens now?" Nelle asked while Sam and Isabeau briefly lost themselves in each other's eyes.

"Now, we are going to bed." Dean said as he stifled a yawn. "Come on, sweetheart." He took Nelle's hand in his and together they got up from the couch.

"I agree," Bobby said. "Off to bed, ya idjits. Tomorrow is another day."

One by one everyone disappeared from the living room, leaving Sam and Isabeau all alone.

"I love you, Isabeau." Sam whispered in her ear as his large hands ran circles up and down her back. She melted into him, resting her head against his chest.

"When I'm an old crooked bag, full of warts and have bony fingers, will you still love me then too?"

"What?" He laughed. "Well, how many warts are we talking?" He winked at her.

"Don't joke, it's not funny." She whined.

"It's a little funny. I'll be the old man, sitting next to you on the porch, rocking your chair and whisper sweet nothings into your bony ear." He grinned.

"Saaaaam!" Isabeau smacked him on the arm and turned around to walk away but he pulled her back. Drawing her close to him, he cupped her face and looked into her eyes once more.

"You are not turning bony and crooked. You will always be beautiful to me. And no matter what the years bring, I will always love you. However this case turns out, whatever we may find. Even if it turns out you are the Wicked Witch of the West or the White Witch of Narnia, I will be by your side. Protecting you and loving you every day, for the rest of our lives. And if you have warts, I will love every single one of them just as much as I love you."

"You promise?" She pouted but couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I promise." He kissed her softly on the lips. "Now let's go to bed, I'm paste."