Two Months Later

Hope laid awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling as she pressed a hand into her side, just beneath her ribcage, trying to coax the baby into a different position. Hope was uncomfortably huge and even more irritable with only a couple of weeks left to go, especially now that Dean refused to leave her side for—well, pretty much anything.

Hope sighed, listening for the even telltale breathing that indicated Dean was genuinely asleep, then she slipped out of bed and wandered into the bunker kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. She wasn't supposed to have it, but this late in her pregnancy, she didn't figure it would truly hurt anything. While she waited for the coffee, she opened Sam's laptop and set up the webcam to do the one thing she'd been putting off for over a month—saying goodbye.

The baby would be born soon, Hope could feel it—and as if that wasn't enough indication, the physical symptoms of the impending birth were driving her crazy. Feathery blue tendrils of Nephilim grace left a mark on anything she touched, as though it were a giant neon sign that screamed: "HOPE WAS HERE."

With a sigh, Hope pressed record and made three videos—one for the whole family, one for the child, and one for Dean alone. By the time she'd finished, her coffee had gone cold, and her eyes were puffy with tears—but there wasn't time for her to get more sleep or do anything else. The contractions had already started, more painful than anything Hope had ever endured. Her surprised scream brought Dean running from the bedroom, his hair sticking up in wild abandon and wearing an expression of a person who just received the shock of their lifetime.

"Is it—" Dean started, but Hope cut him off with a cry and a sharp nod. Without wasting any more time, Dean scooped Hope into his arms and ran to the infirmary, yelling for Aisy's help. Aisy and Sam both came running, and without a word, she set about making preparations to help Hope as best she could. It wasn't like she was trained in delivering Nephilim babies, but what other choice was there?

For the next several hours, Aisy did everything possible to make Hope comfortable as her labor progressed, all the while desperately wishing this day wasn't going to end the way all of them knew it would. When it was all over, there would be a new life in this world—but it would take Hope's life as payment. Aisy worried about how Dean would deal with Hope's death more than she cared to admit to anyone, even Sam. It was this unspoken weight between all of them, and even Castiel had made himself scarce after dropping that information on them, although Dean was adamant he call or show up at least once a day.

"Aisy—" Hope breathed heavily through the pain of a contraction, "it's almost time. Will you get Dean in here? I know he's hovering just out in the hallway; I can feel it. I want him here for this."

Aisy nodded, then ran to the door and motioned both Sam and Dean inside. Hope laid on her side on the bed, one hand gripping her belly. She gave them both a weak smile as they entered, and she lifted her face to Dean's as he planted a kiss on her forehead, brushing the damp tendrils of hair away from her face. "Heya, sweetheart," he murmured, a sad smile curving the edges of his mouth as he stroked her cheek. This was his life, his Hope, and soon she'd be gone. He'd refused to accept the truth, and now he had no choice; the proof was undeniable as the pain lined Hope's haggard face, draining all the vitality from her features.

"Hey yourself," Hope replied weakly, turning her face into his touch and closing her eyes. "Dean," she said, taking a deep breath as another pain came, "it's time to meet your child. Take care of her, Dean—the fate of the universe depends on it. I fear for her, and for you, because if what she's shown me comes to pass, her birth sets off a chain reaction and unless she's protected, it'll be the end of the world as we know it. Promise me, Dean."

"Protected from who?" Dean demanded, his hands cupping Hope's face as she closed her eyes and let out a scream of pain.

Breathe in. "Your—"

Breathe out. "Father."

Hope grunted the word, letting out another agonizing cry as the urge to push became overwhelming. On instinct alone, she gave in to the feeling, reaching for Dean's hand and riding the shockwave of pain as the seconds dragged ever onward.

"Come on, Hope. You can do this," Aisy whispered as she took Sam's hand. "You're the strongest person I've ever known."

As though that were all the encouragement she needed, Hope gave one last screaming cry as brilliant blue light filled the room, pouring out of Hope and taking the last of her lifeforce with it. Her eyes bored into Dean's as they fluttered closed for the last time, and she released her grip on Dean's hand with a final whispered, "I love you."

The light disappeared, replaced by a gasping cry that filled the room. Sam, Dean, and Aisy stared at each other, speechless. Dean's eyes moved between Hope's now lifeless body and the baby, so tiny and helpless, and he couldn't choose which one to touch first. Aisy, sensing Dean's uncertainty, grabbed a towel from the stack next to the bed, wrapped the baby in it, and then placed her gently in Dean's arms. "Say hello to your daughter, Dean," Aisy said, patting him on the shoulder as the baby yawned widely.

"So what's her name?" Sam said, peeking over Dean's shoulder and making a face at the baby.

"I have no idea," Dean said, shaking his head. "We never could agree on one. Hope always said that eventually it would come to her."

"Well, maybe this will help," Aisy said, walking back into the room with Sam's laptop, Hope's handprint still glowing faintly on the lid.

Sam did a double-take, not realizing Aisy had even left the room. "What does my laptop have to do with anything?" he frowned.

"Hope told me a few weeks ago that she was going to get around to recording videos for us, and judging by the new glowy sticker you have here," Aisy tapped the lid, "I'd say it's a good bet that's what she was doing this morning."

"I can't," Dean said, setting the baby down on the bed next to Hope. "I can't do this." Tears burned his eyes, but he made no effort to hide them. "How am I supposed to do this without Hope? I don't want to do this without her."

"You don't have a choice, Dean," Sam said with more force than he intended. "That little girl needs you, and Hope trusted you to protect her. Something is coming; can't you feel it?"

Dean turned, his gaze lingering on the helpless child lying on the bed next to her mother. After a long silence, he nodded. "I can feel it, and that's what scares me the most. If I refuse to take back my grace, then I can't keep her safe. If I take it back, I become just another cog in God's machine. How do I stay human and keep her safe?"

"By hiding her," came a voice from the doorway. They all turned to see Atropos nonchalantly leaning against the wood frame, examining her fingernails as though she were talking about the weather.

"Hide her? How?" Dean asked, his expression incredulous. "God is omniscient, remember?"

Atropos dropped her hand and gave Dean a 'don't be dumb' stare. "You obviously haven't been paying attention. Everyone, even God, has limits. It's a universal cosmic law, and it's the reason the entire universe hasn't descended back into the inky black pit of chaos it emerged from. No one has infinite power, but I'll tell you this much, if the wrong people get their hands on your child, it's all over—for everyone. That, above all else, must not happen."

"What do you mean?" Sam said quietly, glancing at the baby and then back to Atropos.

"Let me break it down in the simplest terms I possibly can so your tiny mind can fathom what I'm trying to say," Atropos snapped, tapping her chin with her index finger. "How about—there's a reason God forbade the existence of nephilim. They grow into their power, which means they are often more powerful—and destructive—than the angel who sired them. And your brother there," she nodded toward Dean, "is an archangel, the same as you. What do you think that means for his offspring?"

"Oh my God," Aisy breathed, taking a step backward. "There's no celestial being more powerful than an archangel except—"

"That's right—the notorious G-oh-D," said a man who appeared in a soft rustle of wings in the doorway. Dean scowled, turning and placing himself between the door and the bed to protect both the baby and Hope's body.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded, glowering at the figure.

"Relax, Dean," Atropos said. "I asked him to come and help you."

Still not convinced, Dean narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, studying the man. He looked almost familiar, although, for the life of him, Dean couldn't figure out why.

"What?" the man said. "Don't tell me you don't recognize your own brother?"

"Knock it off, Gabriel," Atropos sighed. "You know he doesn't and we don't have time for your games."

Gabriel pursed his lips into an annoyed pout as Dean continued to glare at him. "Why should I trust either of you?"

"Trust me, don't trust me—I really don't care," Gabriel said with a shrug, stepping around Dean to get a look at the baby, who had started to cry. "We're all going to end up Daddy Dearest's puppets in the end. Probably shouldn't fight it."

"Dean," Atropos said, her voice worried. "If your Father finds this child, he will kill her while she's too vulnerable to stop him. And if he doesn't kill her, I fear for what he plans to do with her."

Hope's words echoed in Dean's mind, and he shook his head. "No, there has to be something we can do to keep her safe."

"There is," Atropos said. "Give her to Gabriel. He will hide her and teach her how to stay hidden until we can figure out a way to eliminate the threats to her life."

"Wait—you said threats, as in more than one?"

Atropos rolled her eyes, sighing impatiently. "Yes, Dean. Heaven and Hell are both on the brink of war as the news about what God did to Michael and Lucifer spreads. It won't be long now before there is a shift in the balance of power, and everyone will want the most powerful piece on the board—and if this were a chess game, that would be the queen. In this particular game, the queen just so happens to be your daughter. If she isn't protected, it won't just be this world that burns."

As though trying to prove her point, the walls of the bunker began to vibrate, and somewhere outside of the room, an alarm started blaring a warning of impending doom. Without another word, Gabriel scooped up the baby, then glanced over his shoulder at the others. "See you on the flip side, bros," he said, then snapped his fingers and disappeared. Atropos gave Dean a nod of reassurance, then disappeared as well.

Dean pulled his knife, racing through the bunker corridors with Sam right behind him. The trembling grew more vigorous, leaving gaping cracks in the floor and ceiling as they dodged falling debris, skidding to a stop at the library door to find someone standing in the middle of the room.

"Chuck?!" Sam and Dean said in unison. "What the Hell are you doing here? Was that you?"

"Hello, boys," Chuck said, turning toward them with a long-suffering smile. "Is that any way to greet your father?"

"F-father?" Dean sputtered, backing up several paces. "That's a good one. I have no idea what the Hell you're talking about."

Chuck didn't dignify the lie with an answer; he just chuckled and shook his head. "You know, the depths of your denial never cease to amaze me, Dean. Or should I call you Michael?" He clicked his tongue, running a hand along the library shelves. "It's all so terribly confusing now."

"What do you want?" Sam said through gritted teeth, folding his arms over his chest.

"Well," Chuck said slowly. "I came for the child, but I sense she's no longer here, so I guess I'll just have to do what I should've done all those years ago. Kill you both for your disobedience, then take her anyway."

"Bring it on, Chuck," Dean growled. "I'd rather die than be your puppet on a string—ever."

"I know," Chuck replied, running a hand through his hair as he sighed in frustration. "And that's why I have a fate worse than death planned for you, Dean Winchester—and it starts right now." With a snap of his fingers, Chuck disappeared.

"What do you think he meant by that?" Sam said, shaking his head and frowning.

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Dean replied, glancing around the room and noticing for the first time that Aisy was missing. "Hey, where's Aisy?"

Sam's chest tightened as he looked around for Aisy, retracing his steps all the way back to Hope's room. When he got there, he found Aisy sitting alone on the bed, and Hope's body was gone. Aisy's face was buried in her hands, and her shoulders shook with silent sobs as Sam crossed the room and took her into his arms.

"Where's Hope?" Sam asked gently. "Did you, uh…" his voice trailed off, not wanting to voice the thought.

Aisy sniffed and shook her head, wiping the tears from her face as she pulled away from Sam. "I-I couldn't bear the thought of giving her a hunter's funeral. Not yet, anyway. Not until I know for sure."

"Know what for sure?" Sam asked, frowning. "Hope is gone. Everyone knew this is what would happen."

"Yeah, well, you'd think with two archangels, a sorceress, a nephilim, and fucking Fate on our side we'd be able to save her!" Aisy exploded, almost leaping off the edge of the bed. "It's bullshit that she had to die like that! Why? It's so—pointless! I'm not giving up, Sam. I will find a way to bring her back if it kills me."

"Please don't," Dean said from the doorway. His voice was weary, and he looked like he might split apart at the seams, but his eyes were clear. "Been there, done that, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat, but all it brought was misery and pain. Hope wouldn't want that—not for any of us." He turned and left the room, not wanting to let them see how much it killed him inside to say those words.

"There has to be a way," Aisy insisted, shaking her head adamantly. "And I will find it. But I promise, I won't act on anything I find unless we all agree on it. Alright?"

"There's not enough time," Dean said gently. "Her body—" he choked back the words as tears spilled from the corners of his eyes.

"I already took care of that," Aisy said quietly, staring at her hands as Dean composed himself. There would be time to fall apart later; he had more important things to worry about right now. "She's in a sort of magical cryostasis. Her body won't break down, and it's impenetrable to everyone except the one who cast the spell. She'll be safe until I figure this out."

"What about her spirit?" Sam asked. "Spirits with unfinished business tend to hold on too tight, you know."

Aisy shook her head sadly. "I think Hope accepted her fate months ago. I'm the one that can't accept it. She was my sister in every way that mattered, and I will fix this, Sam."

"Aisy—"Sam started, opening and closing his mouth several times as he considered several replies. "It's not something that's broken," he said finally. "Hope died, that's the natural order of things. Things live, and then they die. You know this."

"Why though?" Aisy demanded. "Why did she have to die? Because she was the only one among us that had the misfortune of being just a fragile human? No—I refuse to accept that, and frankly, it pisses me off that you and Dean seem so determined to let her go."

Sam closed his eyes, pressing his lips together in a thin line as he inhaled deeply. Aisy had a point, but she also didn't know what he and Dean had survived. "It's not that we're determined to let her go, sweetheart. Do you really believe that Dean wants to let the other half of his soul go? It's the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, but he will, because he learned his lesson the first time."

"What the hell are you talking about, Sam?"

"Years ago, when we finally tracked down Azazel, one of his other 'special' children managed to kill me. I was gone, Aisy—and Dean couldn't accept that—so he made a crossroads deal," Sam said quietly.

"He did what?!" Aisy said, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're serious?"

Sam nodded. "Yes. In return, he got one year, and my life. After that he went to Hell. Cas was the angel who pulled him out, although we had no idea why at the time. I think we figured it out though. Trust me, no matter what Dean says, he's thinking about doing it again. I just hope he won't. He won't survive it again. He almost didn't the first time."

"I had no idea," Aisy breathed, her eyes widening as her mind raced with possibilities. "Okay, so that option—is not an option, for any of us. Agreed?"

"I'm not the one you'll have to convince," Sam said, rolling his eyes toward the door.

"Well, we better get to work before he does something stupid," Aisy said, scooping up Sam's laptop as she headed for the door. "Maybe Hope can talk some sense into him."

"Just sit down and watch the damn video, Dean," Sam said grumpily, wishing Aisy hadn't left him alone to do this, using the same research excuse he'd used on Dean a thousand times. "It might help."

"The only thing that's going to help is more whiskey," Dean said, holding up the decanter in a cheers motion before refilling his glass and taking a long drink.

"Do you really think this is how Hope would want you to deal with this?"

"It doesn't matter, Sam, because she isn't here! She's not here, and I'm supposed to live with that! I'm supposed to live with the knowledge that I have no idea where our daughter is, and even if I did, I can't protect her from what's coming!" He took another drink, then threw the half-empty glass against the bunker wall. "Kid's not even a day old and I've already failed her, and her mother."

"No, Dean, you didn't," Sam said with a sigh. "You protected her."

"Did I?" Dean demanded. "Or did I just agree because I didn't want the responsibility? I'm having trouble answering that one myself, so how can you be so sure?"

"Because," Sam said, "I know you. You're my brother, and protecting people—especially family—is what you do. It doesn't matter whether or not you want the responsibility, Dean. You're going to shoulder it anyway. That's how I can be sure. Now—just watch the damn video."

"Fine," Dean grumbled, flopping down into a chair at the long library table as Sam spun the laptop around to face him. He pressed a button on the keyboard, and Hope's face blinked onto the screen.

"Hey, Dean," Hope blinked, and Dean's eyes watered, watching her as she tried to find the words he didn't want to hear. "I've put this off as long as I can, but it's time now. I need you to know that I love you and I always will, no matter how much time or space separates us. I know that we'll find each other again. We always do, right?"

A tear slipped silently down Dean's cheek as Hope wiped away one of her own. "Please take care of our daughter. She finally told me her name only yesterday. It's Iris Lenna, and apparently it means faith and lion's strength. I feel like that's a more than appropriate name for a member of the Winchester clan, don't you?"

"She's shown me so many things already, and I need you to know that I'm okay with what's going to happen when she's born. I've accepted my fate, but I know you will struggle to accept it. I need you to believe me when I say that Iris will need you more than I do. Please focus on making the world a safe place for our daughter to come home to."

Hope sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "There are so many things I want to tell you about the things I've seen, but I honestly don't know how much to share, because I'm afraid sharing them is what makes them happen in the end. All I can say for certain is that no matter what you think, you did not fail Iris—or me. You did what was necessary to ensure her safety. She will save the world, Dean, or she will burn it to the ground. It all depends on what lessons she is taught, so don't abandon her because you fell apart."

"My dad used to tell me that history repeats itself because nothing was learned from it the first time. I don't know if that's the case here, but I do know that if you become your father, the cycle will never end. So end it, Dean. I don't care what you have to do, even if it means taking back your grace. You save our daughter, and you'll save the world in the process. I love you, Dean—more than you will ever know, and I have faith that you can and will do this, and not just for Iris, but for everyone. This is not goodbye, only farewell. I can feel it."

Hope pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched the screen as it went black and the video stopped playing. Silence filled the library as Sam waited for Dean to explode. He didn't—much to Sam's surprise.

Dean sat still as a stone for several minutes, unable to find the will to move, think, or even breathe. He supposed that the last one happened anyway, but he didn't know or care when or if he took another breath. Nothing else mattered now; all the color in his life faded to gray the instant that Hope's eyes closed for the last time.

"So," Sam said, clearing his throat as he leaned on the table, "what happens now?"

Before Dean could answer, Castiel appeared in the library, his face bloody and bruised. Dean jumped up from the chair and ran to help him, all of his pain momentarily forgotten.

"Cas?" Dean said, helping to a nearby chair. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Turn on any news channel," Castiel said, taking the towel Sam offered. "It's Armageddon outside."

Dean opened Sam's laptop, clicking on the first news link he could find, and watched in shocked horror as what looked like fireballs rained from the sky. People were attacking each other in the streets behind the news crew, and Dean shuddered at the vague memory of a dream he'd had in the hospital while Hope was in a coma.

"So," Sam said again, glancing between Dean and the laptop with a raised eyebrow. "What do we do now?"

"I have no idea," Dean said after a few moments' silence. "But I say we start with finding Chuck. I'd say we kill him, but I have no idea if it's even fucking possible to kill God. I mean, that seems like one of those absolute things, you know? All I know is, we have to clean up this mess before Iris can come home. That was Hope's last wish, and I intend to make it happen."

"Well, then," Sam said with a determined nod as he glanced at Castiel. "I guess the four of us have work to do."