Sam parked the car in front of the gas pump, glancing at Aisy. "Hope you don't mind, but breakfast is going to have to be to go," Sam said with a wry smile. "Dean is going to lose his mind if I don't show up soon."

"I get it," Aisy said with an easy smile. "He worries a lot, doesn't he? My brother—Jake—he worried a lot too."

"That's an understatement," Sam said, chuckling as he climbed out of the car and started pumping the gas.

Aisy climbed out too, closing the door and squinting at Sam in the bright morning light. "Any preferences?"

"Caffeinated and not full of preservatives," Sam replied, and Aisy shot him a grin over her shoulder as she walked away.

"One of these things is not like the other, Sam," she said with a laugh. "I'll see what I can do."

A few minutes later, Aisy returned with two tall paper cups of coffee, a bag of barely bruised bananas and apples, and her personal favorite road trip food—trail mix with an extra king-size bag of peanut M&Ms. She slid into the passenger seat, handing one cup to Sam and taking a cautious sip from her own, wrinkling her nose at the bitter twang of the gas station coffee.

"Gas station coffee has made zero improvement since I stopped hunting," Aisy said, still grimacing. "How hard is it to make good coffee?"

Sam smirked, taking a sip of the coffee and making his own face. "You're right, that is terrible."

"Told you," Aisy said, gesturing for his cup as she set down her own in the cupholder. "Let me see it."

Sam raised an eyebrow, passing her the cup and watching as she took off the lid and moved her fingers in a circle around the inside edge of the cup. "Suavis, lac, crepito," Aisy murmured with a soft smile, replacing the lid and handing it back to him. "Here, try that."

Sam took another sip, nodding in appreciation. "That's incredible. If nothing else, Dean will want to keep you around for your coffee improvement skills alone."

"Yeah," Aisy said in a small voice, gazing out the window. "I suppose so."

Sam started the car, pointing it toward Sioux Falls as a heavy silence fell between them. Aisy curled her manicured fingers around the coffee cup, relishing the warmth against her palms.

"So I guess we've put off explaining myself long enough," she said finally, taking a sip. Sam nodded, not taking his eyes off the road. He wasn't sure what she might say, and he supposed it was better to get this out of the way now. Aisy took a deep breath, blowing it out and staring at the rows of corn as the scenery flew by.

"I lied," she started, glancing at Sam sideways, "to the sheriff I mean. The fire in the bar wasn't an accident. Someone started it."

"There was no one there by the time I got there. Do you know who it was?"

"Yes." Another deep breath. "It was my ex-husband, Drexil. He was there when you dropped me off. From the way the bar looked when I walked in, he'd already been searching the place. He was there for the key that you found in my bag. He threatened to kill me if I didn't give it to him."

"Why didn't you tell the sheriff?" Sam demanded. "They could've found and arrested him."

"What was I going to say, Sam?" Aisy shot back. "Yeah, Officer, my warlock ex-husband lobbed a magical fireball at my head and accidentally on purpose set my bar on fire. I'm fine though, thanks for asking."

"Wait, warlock?" Sam asked, glancing at her. "Does that mean you're a—"

"Witch?" Aisy offered. She shook her head, taking another sip of her quickly cooling coffee. "No. I'm a sorceress, apparently."

"There's a difference?" Sam asked, his face scrunched into a confused frown.

"I see you were also raised with the witch, is a witch, is a witch mentality," Aisy muttered, shaking her head. "Actually, yes, there is a difference. A witch or warlock sells their soul for their power. A sorcerer or sorceress has what you might call natural magic. It's tied to emotion."

"Really?" Sam said, one corner of his mouth lifting. "I didn't know that. Does that mean you're like the Hulk when you get angry?"

A guilty look flitted across Aisy's features, replaced instantly by her stoic facade. "If you mean do I turn huge and green—no. But, I can be extremely destructive. I can't always control it, and since I killed the succubus I haven't used my magic. At least not until—"

"The cabin," Sam said quietly, and Aisy shot him a surprised glance. "I saw you chanting to yourself while we were searching the house."

"You saw that, huh?" Aisy said, color darkening her cheeks as she glanced away. "Sorry, I just knew we were running out of time to search."

"Don't be," Sam said. "I get it, and in the end it saved Hope's life, so I see nothing wrong with any of it."

"What about Dean?"

"What about him?"

"Won't he see something wrong with it?" Aisy stared at her cup, worrying her lip between her teeth as she contemplated the disconcerting feeling that washed over her. Why did she care what the Winchesters thought of her? The answer unnerved her more than the question itself, and she pushed the thought firmly from her mind.

"Maybe at first," Sam said honestly, shrugging one shoulder. "But he'll come around. Especially after everything you've done to help." He paused, taking a breath before changing the subject. "So, you were married huh?"

Aisy rolled her eyes and took another sip of her coffee, then popped a handful of trail mix into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before answering. "Yeah. I was pretty messed up after I couldn't save my dad, and with Jake gone…" Her voice trailed off as she stared out the window before taking a deep breath and continuing her story.

"Weird things started happening around the time I turned eighteen—things I had no way to explain," Aisy said, pressing her lips together as the early memories of her magical abilities flooded her mind.

"What kinds of things?" Sam asked, darting a glance at her.

"Well, for example, I'd lose things. Keys, phone, just little things. I'd search for them everywhere, and it would be like they'd vanished. I'd get pissed off and start mumbling in a language I still don't even recognize and I'd turn around and whatever I was looking for would be laying there. It happened so much that after a while, I could go right to wherever the missing thing was."

"Just like the cabin."

"Exactly," she said, popping a few candy pieces into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then continued. "I'd just gotten used to that when this guy, Drexil, shows up, tells me I'm some kind of superpowered sorceress and he can teach me how to control my magic. I'm still not sure how he even found me, but I guess it doesn't matter now. It wasn't me he was interested in. It was the key."

"What does it open?" Sam asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

Aisy shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, but Drexil said something about it being the key that opens the largest cache of supernatural lore and artifacts in the world. All I know is that it was my grandfather's, and my family has always kept it safe. When my dad died, it fell to me to protect it."

"Have you ever tried to find where the cache is?"

Aisy shrugged again. "Not really. By the time I learned what Drexil was really after, he'd already convinced me to marry him."

"Were you in love with him?" Sam asked, wondering for a moment why the answer to that question mattered to him.

"I thought I was," Aisy said honestly. "He was nice to me—at first. He took the time to teach me how to reign in my out of control emotions, although I never could figure out how to keep the jealousy in check."

"That explains a lot, actually," Sam said, smirking as he glanced at her.

"Anyway," Aisy said, drawing out the word as she continued, "We'd been married about two years when I walked in on him going through my father's things. He'd found the key and admitted that's the true reason he even showed any interest in me at all. Once he figured out I didn't know the location of whatever that opens, our marriage was over. I spent the next three years trying to get away from him. When I finally did, it took another two years to track down and kill the succubus that murdered my dad."

Aisy chewed her lip and avoided looking at Sam. She didn't want to talk about what happened that night three years ago, but she had a feeling Sam wanted to know, even if he hadn't asked. "The night I found that demon—"

"You don't have to tell me this if you don't want to," Sam said quickly. "I understand, something like that is personal."

"It is," Aisy said, nodding in agreement, "but I want to. The only other person that knows is Drexil, and he likes to lord it over me. He told me that once you and Dean found out what really happens when I lose control, you'll hunt me like the rest of the monsters. The more I think about it, the more I realized he wasn't wrong."

"Aisy, I—" Sam exhaled sharply through his nose, "I have no plans to hunt you. Ever."

"You say that now, but you have no idea what I'm capable of, Sam." Aisy shook her head, inhaling deeply as she propped her elbow against the car door and covered her mouth with one hand. "I lost control the night I found that succubus, and innocent people died."

"Do you know how many innocent people died before Dean and I managed to lock Lilith away?" Sam asked, giving Aisy a sidelong glance. "I get it, believe me. I've done many things I'm not proud of, Aisy. So has Dean. It's what you do to right your wrongs that matters, and I think you know that. You could've stayed quiet about what you knew about Hope's condition. I'm sure your ex-husband wouldn't have offered to help, especially not without a guarantee of something in return. But you did. You walked into a vampire's nest to try to help save a stranger. Evil people don't do that."

Aisy chuckled, shaking her head. "You have no idea how right you are. Drexil never did anything unless there was something he could gain from it. I only wish I'd learned that before I married him."

Sam snorted, a slow smile creeping across his face. "Well, hindsight is a real bitch, you know?"

"That it is, Sam. That it is."

Hope balanced on the porch railing, leaning back against the post as she kept watch over the salvage yard entrance, silently praying that Sam would hurry the fuck up already. The six-hour drive from Nebraska to Sioux Falls had been almost unbearable, and the silence between her and Dean that followed made her want to grab him by the collar and shake him into unconsciousness. How one man could possibly be so stubborn was beyond her.

Hope sighed, leaning her head back against the post and closing her eyes, trying to ignore the muffled cursing coming from the direction of the garage, where Dean was currently venting his frustration by giving Baby a tuneup. She smiled slightly as she opened her eyes, sliding off the railing with a sigh—time to get this fight over with.

She wandered down the steps to the garage, leaning against the overhead door frame and watching Dean work. No matter how frustrating he could be, there was no one else in the world that she would ever love more, and as much as his silence bothered her, she also understood it on some level. No matter how things ended between them the first time, he'd been with her through everything that happened that night, and she shut him out of the most significant part of that—because she'd been afraid of her own growing dependence on another person. The problem was, she didn't know how to make him understand any of that.

"Dean," Hope said, pushing herself off the door and walking toward him. He ignored her, continuing to wipe the spark plug in his hand with a greasy rag. "Dammit, Dean, grow up. Giving me the silent treatment isn't going to fix any of this."

Dean didn't answer, and Hope rolled her eyes, running a hand down her face before shaking her head and turning to walk away. "It won't fix it," he said to her back, dropping the spark plug and picking up another. "It just keeps me from saying anything that makes it worse."

Hope stopped, closing her eyes and breathing as she turned back to Dean. "So—what? You're just going to ignore me because we might fight if you don't?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Yeah," Hope shot back, "I do. How about we try—I don't know—talking?"

"Fine," Dean growled, dropping the rag and spark plug onto the table and turning to glare at Hope. "You want to talk, let's talk. Let's start with how you shut me out of the hardest part of your life. I loved you, even then. All I wanted was to be there for you, and you couldn't even let me do that."

"I was protecting myself, Dean!" Hope cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "What the hell was I supposed to do? I had no idea I mattered that much to you, and it wasn't like you made it obvious. I had to deal with that alone, because if you had been there—" Hope closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath as she blinked away the tears. "What happened next would've been so much harder. It damn near killed me as it was."

"But you didn't know what was coming next," he said, shaking his head. "You just didn't trust me, Hope."

"I might not have known what was coming next, Dean, but you damn sure did," Hope said, her voice low and accusing. "So if you want to be upset that one of us was lying, take a look in the fuckin' mirror. I did trust you; you and Sam were the only people I trusted—and you broke my heart. What was I supposed to do?"

Dean closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he turned back to the table. "Exactly what you did," he murmured, sending everything crashing to the floor with an angry swipe of his arm. Hope inhaled sharply as tools clattered against the concrete floor, and Dean turned toward her with a guilty expression. "I'm so sorry, Hope. For all of it. I don't know what else I can say."

"Nothing," Hope said simply. "There's nothing you can say that will change what happened. We just have to figure out how to move forward—together. If not for us, then for this child. I love you, Dean; I will always love you, but I know this isn't what we wanted or planned. So the question is, what are we going to do? And before you say anything, there's something that I need to tell you."

"What?"

"I know how I was able to conceive this child," Hope said, taking a deep breath. "Atropos told me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded, his brows furrowed as he stared at her like she'd sprung a second head out of her midsection. "Atropos—as in the Moirai? She spoke to you? When?"

"In the hospital," Hope said, fixating her gaze on the back wheel of the Impala. "She appeared to me and said that this child is special, that he or she is the key to peace between humans and supernatural creatures. Everything was so fuzzy when I woke up I didn't remember until you said you knew about the baby. She also said when Cas took over my body and saved the three of us, when he healed me; it was everything. Inside and out. Look," Hope said, holding out her hand. It was steady, without the telltale tremor that came from going hours or days without a drink. "I haven't had a drink since Montana, Dean. Normally, I'd be a mess by now."

"But Cas healed you months ago, Hope," Dean said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think it works that way. There's got to be another explanation for that part of it. I do believe he healed everything else though. I just wish he'd said something before disappearing to wherever the hell he went."

"Me too," Hope murmured. "Maybe this was Atropos' doing, although I don't know if she has that kind of power."

"Well, someone does," Dean said as he bent to pick up the scattered tools and debris from the table.

"What are you talking about?"

"Hope," Dean said, standing up straight and squaring his shoulders as he faced her, "something happened after Bobby injected you with the cure. You started convulsing and almost died. The hospital staff—they, uh, ran into the room, and—" Dean shook his head, running a hand across the back of his neck.

"And what, Dean?"

"They were possessed—by demons," Dean said, dropping his hand heavily to his side. "They tried to attack you, and there was this bright blue light and then they all smoked out and burned up. We all tried to get inside the room, but the door wouldn't move until it was over."

"What the hell?" Hope whispered, taking a stumbling step backward. "How? Wh-Why?"

"Nobody knows," Dean shrugged. "I suppose that's why Bobby isn't back yet. He's probably out gathering intel on the newest player on the board. Tell me what else Atropos said to you."

Hope shook her head in bewilderment. "It's all kind of fuzzy now, but she said something about the key to fixing the fractured timeline being Lucifer and our child."

"Lucifer?!" Dean said. "And you listened to her?"

"Well, she is one of the Fates, Dean," Hope said, shrugging. "Besides, what was I supposed to do? It's not like she didn't have a captive audience."

"Alright," Dean said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Bobby's number. "Let's see if we get the story straight from the source."

Tires crunched on the gravel drive, and Hope walked outside while Dean talked to Bobby. A grin split her face at the sight of the silver Porsche idling toward the house. "Sam's here," Hope called over her shoulder. She didn't wait for an answer as she jogged toward the car, running her hand along the hood.

"I took good care of her," Sam said, chuckling as he climbed out of the car and tossed Hope the keys. She caught them one-handed and pointed a finger at him.

"If she tells me anything different," Hope said, narrowing her eyes at him, "I'll shave your head while you're asleep. You hear me, Sam?"

Sam held up his hands in surrender, grinning at her. "You wouldn't dare."

"Would I?" Hope challenged. "Test me and find out."

"I'll just take your word for it, thanks," Sam said, gathering Hope into a bear hug and glancing toward Aisy as she got out of the car. "How are you and Dean doing?"

Hope rolled her eyes, stepping out of his reach. "He called you, didn't he?" Sam nodded but said nothing. "Figures. Well, he's at least talking to me now, so I guess that's something."

"Definitely," Sam agreed. "So, uh, Aisy is going to stay with us for a bit. There was an, uh, incident, at her bar and it was destroyed by a fire." Sam cleared his throat, glancing worriedly between Hope and Aisy as Hope raised an eyebrow at Sam.

"I see," Hope said after a few moments of silence. She glanced at Aisy and let out a soft sigh. "Well if anyone knows what it feels like being ripped from your life and tossed headfirst into this one, it's me. It'll be nice to have another woman around. Come on," Hope said, gesturing toward Aisy's duffle bag she'd dropped on the ground. "I'll show you where you can put your stuff."

Hope went to the door, and Sam nodded at Aisy to follow her. "Oh, and Sam?" Hope said, resting her hand on the screen door as she cast a pointed look toward the garage. "Go see your brother before he loses his mind." Sam grinned, giving Hope a half-hearted salute as he loped toward the garage, crossing the distance in no time.

"Do they always do what you tell them to like that?" Aisy asked, her voice sharper than she intended. "Err, sorry. I didn't mean to sound so bitchy. It's been a rough couple of days."

"I'm sure it has," Hope replied, keeping her voice even. "Come on, I'll show you where everything is."

After a short tour of Bobby's house, Aisy dropped her duffle on the guest bed and turned to Hope, hesitating. Hope leaned on the doorframe, watching the younger woman with curious eyes. "You like him, don't you?"

"Who?" Aisy said, her brows furrowed in feigned confusion. Hope rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the frame and perching on the side of the bed, tucking her feet underneath her thighs.

"Sam," Hope said, wearing a patented Sam Winchester long-suffering bitchface. "Don't try to deny it." Her tone was teasing, and Aisy rolled her eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Aisy said flatly, tucking her chin to hide the bright color flushing her cheeks.

Hope snorted, then shrugged and stood up. "Fine, have it your way. Just—do yourself a favor and work on keeping that green-eyed beast of yours under control, alright?" Hope headed for the door without waiting for an answer, pausing as she heard Aisy's voice behind her.

"Why did he do it?" She asked, staring daggers at Hope's back. "He says he's not in love with you, but that man ran himself ragged trying to save your life, while the one who claims to love you came into my bar and drank a fifth of whiskey and did fuck little else. So why did Sam think it was his responsibility to save you?"

Hope turned, one corner of her mouth tilted up in a smile. "I can tell you right now that Sam Winchester is not—and has never been—in love with me. As for what his reasons were, you'll have to ask him. As for what Dean did, all I can say is that there's a lot about those two that you don't know yet."

"What the hell does that mean?" Aisy asked, shaking her head as she unzipped her duffle and dumped it on the bed. Her hand closed around the box containing the key, and she sank down onto the bed, gripping it against her palm as her fingers traced the outline of the carved Aquarian Star on the lid.

"It just means—" the words died on Hope's lips as she saw the box in Aisy's hand. "Where did you get that?"

Aisy's head shot up, her eyes narrowed at Hope. "None of your business," she growled.

Hope held up her hands and shook her head. "Hey, whatever. I'm just trying to help. I recognize that symbol." She gestured toward the box.

Aisy's brow lowered even more, her gray eyes burning into Hope with an icy fire. "What do you know?" Somehow Aisy didn't think Hope meant her harm or had any intention of trying to steal the key from her, but it did little to ease her natural suspicion of other people.

"Not much, I saw it in a book in Bobby's library when we were researching—" Hope swallowed, glancing away, "—something else. If you give me a minute, I'm sure I can find it again."

"That's not necessary, thanks," Aisy said with a tight smile, and Hope shrugged.

"Whatever," Hope said. "Let me know if you change your mind. I'll leave you alone." Hope left the room, closing the door softly behind her and returning to her spot on the porch. She stared out across the salvage yard, watching the clouds build on the western horizon. A storm was brewing, and somehow, Hope didn't think it had anything to do with the coming weather.

A tiny smile played on Hope's lips as she watched Sam and Dean emerge from the garage, heads bent close as they talked. Even from that distance, Hope could see the lines of worry that framed Dean's eyes and mouth since Nebraska had lessened, and she couldn't help but chuckle as Sam made a joke about something Hope couldn't hear and Dean threw his head back, his whole body shaking with laughter.

The screen door opened and Hope glanced at Aisy, who stepped out onto the porch and leaned against it, looking slightly sheepish. She nodded her head toward the two men, glancing sideways at Hope.

"What's on your mind?" Hope asked, returning her attention to quietly watching the brothers' conversation.

"You really love them, don't you?" Aisy asked, trying not to sound overly interested in the answer.

"Of course," Hope said, a broad smile splitting her face. "They drive me nuts sometimes, but they're my family. Sam is like the little brother I never had and Dean—" Hope blushed a little as she leaned her head against the porch column. "Well, Dean is complicated. He's stubborn, he can be selfish at times, and he has that oldest sibling curse where he thinks no matter what he's always right. The thing is though, despite all his flaws, I love him with everything I am, and I know he loves me—even when he picks the complete wrong way to show it."

Aisy snorted, rolling her eyes. "I had an older brother with the same curse. I get it." After a short pause, she spoke again. "How did you know? That you were in love with Dean?"

Hope squinted at Aisy, but she avoided Hope's gaze, choosing instead to watch Sam. "Dean and I have always been complicated. I met him on the single worst night of my life, but despite all that, it was like my soul knew him. It felt like I was home; and when I kissed him, I felt alive for the first time in my life."

"I see," Aisy murmured, reliving the memory of kissing Sam on the side of Casper Mountain. She could feel the electricity racing along her skin even now, sending tiny shivers up and down her spine.

Hope studied Aisy with a knowing look in her eyes. "It's none of my business, but there's something you need to know about the Winchester men. They don't give their hearts easily, but when they do; they love with their whole being. You couldn't ask for a better man in your life than Sam. He's the most loyal man I know, next to Dean and Bobby, and he'll walk through hellfire if that's what his family needs. Just—if you go down that road, be sure. Sam deserves someone who loves the way he does."

Aisy nodded, saying nothing as she became more aware of how wrong she'd been about Hope the first time they met. "Hey," she said, "I'm sorry about earlier. I can be—" she shrugged, chewing her lower lip, "—a pain in the ass, to put it mildly. I have a jealous streak a mile wide, and I don't typically play well with others. Especially not when they're as intimidating as you."

Hope gave a very unladylike snort, shaking her head as a smile crept across her face. "What? Surely not."

Aisy flushed slightly as she nodded, and Hope chuckled, shaking her head. "Sam said you're a doctor, and the way he said it just—" Aisy shook her head, "I'm not anything like that. I dunno, it just hit me wrong, I guess."

"Well, I might be a doctor, but I'm certainly not a hunter. Not a good one anyway," Hope muttered. "But you are, I can tell. What I am good at, though, is research and study. So, the offer's still open if you want to find out what they symbol on that box means."

Hope stood up, stretching her back as she entered the house and headed for the library. She sat down on the couch, tucking her feet under her legs as Licorice mewed grumpily from the back of the sofa. "Hey, baby," Hope murmured, scratching the cat's ears. "Did ya miss me?"

Aisy leaned against the doorframe, watching Hope murmur lovingly to the green-eyed cat. "So where do we start?"

Hope glanced up, flashing a grin as she walked to a bookshelf in the corner. "Right here," she said, setting a stack of books on the desk and flipping open the top one. "Might as well get comfy, we're gonna be here for a while."