"What the hell is the point of having a cell phone if you never answer the damn thing?" Dean growled into the speaker of his phone, ending the call and resisting the urge to throw the phone against a wall. He glanced over his shoulder toward Hope, his eyes falling on the crumpled note Sam left for him before taking off in Baby and leaving him stranded here in the hospital.

Fury, terror, and worry all clawed at his insides, leaving Dean with the overwhelming urge to bolt again. He could just get in the car and just drive until the road ended, leaving all of this nightmarish bullshit behind, right?

If you do that, Hope will never forgive you. Dean sighed, running a hand down his face as he turned away from the window and flopped down in the chair next to Hope's bed. He took her hand, pressing his lips to the translucent skin of her palm. Her fingers were cool, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he traced the lines of her veins with his fingertips.

She'll be better off without me. Her and the kid. Who am I kidding? I'm not cut out to be anyone's father—I can barely take care of myself! Dean closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair and letting out a heavy sigh. There was a time he'd thought saving the world was an enormous responsibility, but this—this was so much more overwhelming. Taking care of Sam while growing up was one thing; at least if Sam turned out terribly, technically it wasn't Dean's fault—he could just blame John Winchester's excellent parenting skills—or lack thereof. If Dean stuck around and screwed this kid up, that was all on him.

And how screwed up do you think this kid will be if you bail? Dean didn't have an answer, and he wasn't sure he wanted to contemplate it all that closely. Hope was a good woman, and she'd be a wonderful mother. She'd figure out a way to make up for Dean's absence in their lives, he was sure of it.

The monitors next to the bed started screeching, and Dean jumped out of the chair and grabbed Hope's hand again. "No! No!," Hope screamed as she thrashed on the bed, her eyes moving frantically beneath her closed eyelids. "You can't have him! You can't take him! No! Dean!"

Terror ripped through his chest like a machete through paper as doctors and nurses flooded the small room, shooing him out into the hallway as they worked to stabilize Hope. "Hurry up, Sammy," Dean muttered as he sank into a chair in the hallway and leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed. He was exhausted to his very core, certain that even if he slept for a month, he'd never feel rested again.

Dean's phone rang, startling him as he shoved his hand in his pocket to find it. "Sam?" he growled into the phone. "It's about damn time."

"Hello to you, too," Sam said, his tone betraying the eye roll Dean couldn't see. "We're a couple hours out from the hospital. Bobby is supposed to meet us there. Has he showed up yet?"

"No," Dean said, shaking his head and glancing down the hallway toward the elevators. "Wait—he just got here." Bobby stepped out of the elevator and looked around, shifting the duffle bag he carried on his shoulder, his eyes lighting up when he saw Dean waving from his spot outside Hope's room.

"Great," Sam said, the tone of relief in his voice unmistakable. "How's Hope? Any change?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, shaking his head as Bobby approached. "It's not good, Sam. The monitors went crazy and she started screaming and then they ran me out of the room."

"Dammit," Sam said. "Alright, you and Bobby get the cure started and I'll get here as quick as I can."

"Hurry, Sam," Dean said, all of the earlier fury dissipating in that instant. He'd forgive Sam anything as long as Hope lived. The line went dead, and Dean shoved the phone back into his pocket.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said, standing up to greet him. Bobby nodded, pulling Dean into a hug.

"Hey, son. How's Hope?" Bobby asked, glancing through the half-closed blinds into Hope's room.

"Not good," Dean said, turning toward the door as the doctor emerged. He sucked in a breath and held it as she approached him, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Hope is stable, for now," the doctor said. "We had to put her under some very heavy sedation. There's not much else we can do for her. I'm sorry."

Dean bit his bottom lip, taking a step backward. Bobby's gaze darted between the doctor and Dean, and he nodded toward the doctor. "Thanks, doc." The doctor nodded as she turned and walked away.

"I can't lose them now, Bobby," Dean whispered, his earlier thoughts about leaving Hope alone to raise their child forgotten. "I can't. We have to save her."

"Well I guess we better get to work then," Bobby said, nodding toward the door. Dean nodded, leading Bobby inside. "Here, bleed into this bowl."

Bobby held out a copper bowl, and Dean frowned as he took it and set it on the rolling bedside table. He pulled the knife from the waistband of his jeans, hissing through his teeth as he sliced open his palm and dribbled several dozen drops of blood into the bowl. Bobby went to work mixing the rest of the ingredients as Dean kept a watch at the door for unexpected visitors. Dean glanced at him occasionally, watching in amazement as Bobby worked, wishing he'd paid more attention to the lessons Bobby tried to give him all those years ago about what ingredients do what.

"It's done," Bobby said finally, glancing at Dean with a questioning look. "All we need now is for Sam to get his ass here with the last ingredient." Dean nodded, scanning the hallway for any sign of Sam and doing the best he could to ignore Bobby's piercing stare.

"Did I hear you right before?" Bobby asked, frowning at Dean. "When you said you can't lose them? There something you wanna tell me?"

Dean closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the door frame. "Not exactly," he muttered, shaking his head against the frame. He sighed again, turning to face Bobby. "If don't tell you, Sam will, so—"

"Well, spit it out then," Bobby said gruffly, and Dean closed his eyes again.

"Hope's pregnant," Dean said, every muscle in his body tensing as he said the words, waiting for a punishment that didn't come.

"What are you gonna do?" Bobby asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Dean opened one eye, then the other, blinking at Bobby in bewilderment.

"That's it?" Dean asked, shaking his head. "No 'what the hell were you thinking' or 'how stupid can you be?'"

Bobby shrugged, lacing his fingers behind his head as he leaned back in the chair next to Hope's bed. "Nah, it seems like you covered all the high points already. Besides, I ain't John. If you're expecting me to tear you a new one because I think you screwed up, you're gonna have to look elsewhere for that, son. That being said, I recognize that look in your eyes. Every instinct inside is telling you to run; but do yourself a favor. Don't. You'll never forgive yourself, and that woman there," Bobby tilted his head toward Hope, not breaking eye contact with Dean. "She might be able to overlook a lot of things about you, but you bailing when she needs you the most won't be one of them."

"What the hell am I gonna do with a kid, Bobby?" Dean sighed, sinking into the other chair and keeping an eye on the slightly open door.

"You're gonna man up and be the dad you and Sam deserved all along," Bobby said, flashing a half-smile. "I have faith in you."

"That makes one of us," Dean muttered as the door swung open and Sam entered, slightly breathless and holding out a leather pouch to Bobby.

"Dude, did you run the whole way back from Wyoming?" Dean said sourly, his brows knitted in concern. He might still be pissed at Sam for running off and leaving him behind like a misbehaving child stuck in a timeout—nevermind that's exactly how he was acting, but it didn't stop him from worrying about his baby brother.

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam said, exhaling a long breath. "The elevator was going too slow, so we took the stairs."

"We?" Dean glanced toward the door and saw Aisy leaning casually against the frame.

Dean gave Sam a questioning look, then looked back at Aisy. "Hey, bartender. I guess we have you to thank for this?"

"Hey, drunk guy," Aisy quipped, a slow smile creeping across her face. "Don't thank me yet. Save it for when she wakes up."

"Do I even want to know how you got this?" Dean asked, watching Bobby as he finished mixing the horrid smelling concoction.

"No," Sam and Aisy said in unison. Dean cocked one eyebrow, his gaze darting between the two of them, and Sam cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly.

"Trust me," Sam said, avoiding Dean's piercing glare. "You don't want to know."

Bobby struck a match, dropping the flame into the bowl and muttering a Romanian incantation as the mixture inside smoked and hissed as though it had taken on a life of its own. He picked up the syringe, uncapping it and dipping the needle into the swirling mixture.

"Bobby?" Dean questioned, his eyes darting from the bowl to Bobby and back again. Bobby ignored him, concentrating on drawing the mixture into the needle. He didn't look up until the contents of the bowl were safely inside the syringe, holding it up triumphantly. "Is that—" Dean swallowed, glancing nervously at Hope's helpless body, "safe?"

Bobby shrugged. "I doubt it was meant to be used on someone in Hope's condition, but what choice do we have? Do you want to just let her die?"

"No, Bobby! Of course not," Dean replied, scraping his teeth across his lower lip as he ran a hand through his hair. He gestured for Bobby to continue, taking one of Hope's hands in his own.

Bobby took a deep breath, then nodded to himself and pressed the needle into Hope's neck. They all held their breath as Bobby pushed the plunger and the violet liquid disappeared beneath her skin. Hope jerked and groaned as the potion spread through her body, and Dean tightened his grip on her hand.

"Come on, sweetheart," Dean whispered, brushing his lips across Hope's knuckles, her skin almost burning his lips. "Please come back to me."

Hope's body went rigid, and they all stared in horror as all the monitor alarms went crazy, and she began to convulse. The hospital staff rushed down the hallway toward the commotion as Aisy swept everything off the bedside table into Bobby's duffle bag, kicking it into the far corner as the four of them were ushered out into the hallway.

Dean stared unblinking through the window into Hope's room, watching but not seeing the commotion going on inside. Sam and Aisy stood on his left, Bobby on his right. "This wasn't supposed to happen," Dean whispered. "Was it?"

Rage spread through Dean's veins like wildfire, and he did the only thing he knew how to do when the pain threatened to overwhelm him. "You," he growled, pointing his finger at Aisy, "You knew this would happen. Didn't you? Was that your plan all along?"

"Dude," Sam snapped, placing himself between Dean and Aisy, "are you even listening to yourself right now? Aisy didn't do this to Hope. You know that."

"No, Sam, I don't," Dean said, scratching absently at the stubble on his face. He sighed, pointing toward the elevator. "I'm gonna take a walk."

"Don't run off too far," Bobby said, giving Dean a pointed look as he walked away. Dean turned toward him, his arms spread wide and a sardonic smile on his lips.

"How can I?" Dean said, "Shaggy over there still has my car keys." He turned back toward the elevator, pushing the button harder than necessary.

When the elevator doors closed behind Dean, Bobby turned toward Sam and opened his mouth to say something, but Sam beat him to it. "I'll go make sure he doesn't get himself into more trouble," Sam sighed, nodding a questioning look toward Aisy.

"I'll be fine," Aisy said, gesturing at Sam, "go keep your brother out of trouble." Sam grinned at her, then jogged toward the elevators.

"Oh, and Sam?" Bobby called after him. Sam turned, and Bobby held out a hand. "Leave the keys. Can't have Dean pickpocketing you and taking off."

"Right," Sam said, fishing the keys out of his pocket and tossing them through the air. Bobby caught them one-handed and nodded to Sam. "Thanks, Bobby. For everything."

"Don't mention it," Bobby said, turning his attention back toward Hope's room.

Once Sam was gone, Bobby glanced sidelong at Aisy, then turned toward her. "With everything going on, we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Bobby Singer."

"I'm Aislinn Mallory," Aisy replied, holding out her hand. "You can call me Aisy, everyone does. I know who you are; my Dad used to talk about you all the time. He said you saved his life once or twice."

"Mallory," Bobby murmured, trying to place the name as he shook Aisy's outstretched hand. "Wait, is your father Jason Mallory?"

"Was Jason Mallory," Aisy said with a small nod. "He died—thirteen years ago, when I was barely sixteen. Him and my brother both."

"I'm sorry," Bobby said quietly. "I didn't know. How did he die?"

"You're looking at it," Aisy said, nodding toward the room. "I didn't get the cure in time, and he died from this very same virus."

Aisy stared through the window, avoiding Bobby's piteous gaze. She hated telling other hunters anything about her background because their 'poor sad orphan Aisy' faces made her want to punch holes in cement walls. Icy tendrils of unease clawed at her gut as she watched the people moving inside Hope's room, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what was wrong.

A nurse glared over her shoulder, her jet black eyes staring through the glass that separated them. "Son of a fucking bitch," Aisy muttered, pushing away from the window and trying to open the door. It wouldn't budge, and she gestured to Bobby for help. "Please tell me you saw that."

"Yep," Bobby said, pressing against the door with all his strength. "I dunno how much Sam has told you about Hope, but we better figure out a way to get this door open fast. The entire world depends on it."

"Wait—what?" Aisy said, pressing her back against the door and digging her heels into the floor for leverage.

"Just trust me," Bobby growled, "c'mon, push!"

The floor beneath them began to tremble as the walls vibrated and plaster dust fell from the ceiling all around them. The stairwell door flew open, and Sam and Dean raced down the hallway, pressing with all their strength against the door as a brilliant blue light filled the room on the other side.

An invisible force held the screeching demons inside the room as they left their hosts' bodies, burning up against the blazing blue light. After a few moments, the walls and floor stopped quaking, and the door swung open, sending the four of them stumbling into the room as the bewildered hospital staff stood up and dusted themselves off.

Dean held out a hand to help the others up, glancing around the room in confusion. "What the hell just happened? I've never seen anything like that before."

Bobby shook his head, stepping out of the doorway as terrified hospital staff ran from the room. "Whatever it was, it was more powerful than anything I've ever seen. It wasn't an angel, I can tell ya that. Angels wouldn't have bothered with exorcism, they would've smited first and asked questions later. I'll know more once I get home and I can do some research."

Everyone turned toward the bed when Hope sucked in a gasping breath, her eyes snapping open as she sat bolt upright in the hospital bed. "Dean!"

"Hope!" Dean raced to her side, all of his questions and fears forgotten as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck and hair to hide the tears that sprang to his eyes. He'd almost lost her—again. How the hell did anyone live like this? The fear of losing her alone was enough to send him to an early grave; he was sure of it. Adding a child to that equation was like trying to put out a wildfire with gasoline. "You came back to me," he whispered incredulously into her hair.

Hope squeezed Dean tighter, then pulled out of his embrace to look him in the eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. "Of course I did. There's no other place for me, Dean. I love you."

Dean took Hope's face in his hands without a word and kissed her, hard and urgent. What happened in this room a few moments before fell to the wayside, and right then, all that mattered was that Hope was awake, and they were together. Dean would worry about how that happened later.

"Uh, guys," Sam said, glancing around the room nervously. "I don't mean to break up the happy reunion, but we should probably go now."

"Right," Dean said, releasing Hope and standing up. "Can you walk?"

"I-I'm not sure," Hope said, dangling her feet over the edge of the bed. She stood, stumbling slightly before righting herself. "Yeah, I think I'm good. Let's go." She removed the IV and monitor leads with expert precision, and Aisy stared at her in fascination as she worked.

"Hope's a doctor," Sam murmured to Aisy as he brushed past her to retrieve the duffle bag she had kicked into the corner.

Aisy shook her head, turning away quickly and heading for the elevator. She wasn't sure why Hope being a doctor intimidated her, but the feeling was annoying, and she was suddenly desperate to be anywhere else. Maybe it was the slight note of awe in Sam's voice when he mentioned it, which could've been anything, Aisy reminded herself harshly. Besides, Hope and Aisy hadn't even been introduced yet and she'd have to be an idiot to think Hope had eyes for anyone but Dean.

Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Hope drew curious stares from hospital patients and staff as they moved down the hallway toward the elevators, and Aisy watched them as she held the elevator doors open for them. Hope seemed to be walking fine on her own, but the three men surrounded her protectively, alert for any sign she might be ailing.

It must be nice to be treated like such a princess. She probably doesn't know the first thing about being a hunter. Aisy caught her grimacing expression reflected on the back wall of the elevator and took a deep breath through her nose as she forced herself to unscrew her features.

Jealousy is not a good look on you, Aislinn. Her mother's voice echoed inside her head, and a blush of shame crept up her neck, setting the skin beneath her shirt collar on fire. It was probably a good thing she was going home. Once again, she'd done what she set out to do, and everyone could go back to their lives now. She was better off alone, anyway. That was just the way her life was destined to be, she supposed.

They all said their farewells to Bobby in the parking lot, and Sam, Dean, Aisy, and Hope piled into the Impala. Hope sniffed the air, retching involuntarily as she slid into the front seat. "Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ, guys! It smells like the Rat Pack threw a kegger in here! What the fuck did you two do while I was in the hospital?" Sam pointed an accusing finger at Dean, who glared back at him as he backed the car out of the parking space.

Aisy pressed her lips together to stifle a smile as she stared out the window. Alright, so maybe her initial thoughts about Hope were way off base. Too bad she wouldn't have the chance to find out one way or another because she was going back to her simple bartending life, far away from the Winchesters and whatever drama and, dare she say it—excitement—that might bring to her life.

Aisy glanced around the car a few times as they drove to the motel, unsure of what the loaded silence in the car was about. She decided it was none of her business and stared out the window, ignoring everyone until they pulled into the parking lot of a cheap motel and Dean parked the Impala next to a perfect replica of James Dean's Porsche.

"What the hell?" Aisy breathed, staring out the window at the shiny silver convertible. "Why would someone who owns a car like that stay in a place like this?"

Sam snickered, nudging Hope's shoulder. "Yeah, Hope. Why is that?"

Hope rolled her eyes at Sam and flashed Aisy a grin over her shoulder. "Because," she said, drawing out the word, "it's what you do when the man you're with loves Magic Fingers almost the same as he loves you." She gave Dean a pointed look, and he shot her a lopsided grin.

"It ain't my fault you can't give a massage like that, sweetheart," Dean said, chuckling lightly. "Nothing beats the Magic Fingers."

"I'm a surgeon, Dean. Not a masseuse," Hope shot back, rolling her eyes as Dean and Sam laughed.

"That's your car?!" Aisy blurted, her eyes wide. "It's beautiful."

Hope nodded, a soft smile curving her lips as she turned in the seat. "Technically it was my mother's but she left it to me. I'm Hope, by the way, but I'm sure you already knew that. I'm assuming you helped these two with whatever cured me?"

"Something like that," Aisy said, clearing her throat and casting a sideways glance at Sam in a silent plea for help.

Sam cleared his throat and nodded. "Right, Hope this is Aislinn—Aisy. We wouldn't have been able to save you without her help."

"I'm not sure that a simple thank you is enough for saving my life, but thank you. You have no idea how much I owe you," Hope paused, glancing around the car at Sam, Dean, and Aisy, "how much I owe all of you."

"Don't mention it. Not to be rude, but—" Aisy said, changing the subject, "I really need to get home."

"Right," Dean said, tossing the Porsche keys to Sam. "Sam, why don't you take Aisy home and meet us at Bobby's?"

"I am perfectly capable of driving my own car, Dean," Hope snapped, her eyes narrowing. She knew full well why he wanted Sam to take her car, and she wasn't ready to talk about what happened yet, or for him to tell her that he'd be leaving her behind when he and Sam went out hunting again.

"I know you are," Dean said, nodding to Sam, who got out of the car. Aisy grabbed her duffle bag from the floorboard and followed silently, desperate to be away from what was quickly turning into an awkward conversation. Once the doors closed, Dean continued. "We just need to talk."

"No we don't," Hope said. "I know what you're going to say, but Dean, what happened wasn't my fault, and you're not going to dump me off at Bobby's while you and Sam go risk your lives hunting God knows what. We had a deal."

"Yeah, well, that was before," Dean growled, avoiding her gaze. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Before what?" Hope said, her brows knitting in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? Why didn't I say anything about what?"

"Hope," Dean said, pressing his lips into a grim line as he stared at her, "I know about the baby."

Hope sputtered, coughing as she tried to catch her breath in the suddenly airless space. "What are you—" she shook her head firmly. "No, that's not—it can't be." Hope frowned at Dean, her features wrinkled in confusion. "What? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"No, but that does answer one of my questions." Dean waved to Sam, then backed out of the parking space and headed out of town.

"What question is that?"

"Well, see, you tell me you can't have children because of what those assholes did to you, and then next thing I know the doctor is telling me that you're pregnant. Kinda makes a guy wonder about some things, ya know?"

"I suppose it does," Hope said quietly, staring out the window to avoid Dean's occasional glaring glances. "Look, Dean—"

"It's fine, Hope," Dean said, holding up one hand and speaking in a tone that said it was most certainly not fine. "Just—please tell me you didn't know before you insisted on coming on this hunt."

"I didn't know for sure. I suspected when I had to pull over and puke on the side of the highway, but I thought I was just hungover, because my Ob/Gyn said it would be impossible for me to have children after—"Hope cleared her throat, not wanting to finish that sentence. "I was on my way to the drugstore to get a test when I ran into Jesse."

"So that's why you told me and Sam to go and leave you behind?" Hope nodded, and Dean shook his head and let out a heavy sigh.

"I honestly didn't think it was that, but I needed to be sure. After what happened last time—"

"Last time? What the hell do you mean, last time?" Dean snapped, stomping the brakes and guiding the car to the shoulder before turning his glare on her. "You were pregnant before?"

Hope sighed, running a hand down her face and covering her mouth with one hand. "It wasn't a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Dean cried. "You were pregnant, Hope! You were pregnant, and-and—"

"And then I wasn't," Hope finished for him, unwilling to elaborate further.

"Did you—you know?"

"What? No!" Hope said defensively. "I didn't have an abortion, Dean! It was an ectopic pregnancy." She forced herself to not roll her eyes at his confused expression as she continued. "The baby implanted in the tube, instead of the uterus like it's supposed to. When that happens, the pregnancy isn't viable and has to be terminated or it can be life-threatening. In my case, by the time I found out I was pregnant it was too late to do it without surgery, and part of my tube had to be removed to save my life. My doctor told me I'd most likely never have children after that."

"When was this?" Dean demanded, staring straight ahead and refusing to look at Hope. He was angrier than he ever remembered being with her, and if he looked at her now—well, whatever happened next wouldn't be pretty. He wasn't willing to risk losing everything now because of something that had obviously happened years before.

"Roughly ten weeks after that night," Hope replied, shuddering involuntarily and refusing to look at Dean. "Remember that two weeks that I was super busy and we only talked on the phone?" She cast a quick glance in his direction, and seeing Dean's nod, faced the window again before continuing. "I wasn't working, I was recovering from surgery."

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've been there; or I don't know—something. You didn't need to go through that alone, Hope."

"Why do you think I didn't tell you?" Angry tears stung Hope's eyes, and she sniffed, blinking them away. "Do you really think I wanted to give you any more reasons to feel sorry for me? I was my burden to bear, and I carried it, just like I did all the others. Given how things ended between us then, it seemed like a good decision at the time."

Dean recoiled as though Hope had slapped him, and he bit back an angry retort. She wasn't wrong, but that didn't make the words sting any less. "That was harsh," he said quietly.

"Doesn't make it any less true," Hope said, settling herself back into the seat as silence fell between them. So much for a joyous reunion, Dean thought sourly as he pulled the car back onto the interstate and settled himself in for a long, silent ride to Sioux Falls.