-11-

"Today's your lucky day, Miss Turner. You get to leave."

"Where's my son? Where's Milo? Did you find him?"

"No one was at the lake house when we arrived, Miss. No one knows where your son is."

"Please, I just want my son back."

"Miss Turner, we don't have your son. You're free to go."

Tears stung at the corners of my eyes as I made my way out of the cell and toward the exit. On the one hand, I was grateful to finally be rid of the cops and 24/7 surveillance, but Agent Morgan had promised to bring my son back to me. He had broken his promise and that was something I wouldn't easily forget.

I pulled into the garage of the bunker, body tired and heart heavy. As far as I was aware I had now lost two children, and the weight from it was threatening to drown me at any moment. Part of me hoped against hope that when I walked inside I would find Sam, Dean and my son. Maybe Castiel and Kelly would be there with Kelly's child as well. But I seriously doubted I would be that lucky.

Sure enough, when I made my way inside, I was greeted by dark rooms and a deafening silence. The place was empty. Trudging down the halls, I made my way to Dean and my room. Milo's crib was still set up in the corner, long abandoned like the rest of the things in the bunker. Mechanically, I set my stuff down and walked over to the wooden cradle. Dean had bought and built it himself, not letting anyone help no matter how much yelling and swearing we heard come from the room.

I didn't know when the tears started, but I was suddenly made aware of them as wet spots started appearing on the sheet within the crib. I touched a hand to my cheek and looked at it when it came back wet and glistening with the silent tears. Milo's giraffe was missing from the crib since it had been with him when Cass took him and Kelly away. However, his blanket was bunched in the corner of the bed and I picked it up, pressing it to my face. Turning from the baby bed, I trudged over to the bigger one that I shared with Dean, falling asleep with the little blanket fisted in my grasp and tears still streaming down my cheeks.

"I still think the kid is bad news."

"And Milo's any different from him? They're both half-breeds, Dean. Milo might even be worse since he's part demon instead of part angel."

"You shut your face. That's my son you're talking about."

I looked up from my book as the Winchester's voices got louder. It had been almost a week since I had returned to the bunker and my reaction to the brother's argument was the first lively thing I had done since my arrival. It was like I had been in a fog all week and the sound of the father of my child and his brother were the sunlight finally cutting through. Then there they were, entering the library.

Sam was glaring at Dean, floppy hair falling in his eyes. Dean was glaring right back, one arm supporting a sleeping toddler and his duffel slung over the opposite shoulder. Behind them stood a young boy who looked to be in his early 20s with short brown hair styled similarly to Dean's, khakis, a white shirt and a beige jacket on. He was looking around curiously, as if he had never seen the world before.

"Besides, Milo actually looks his age. That's more than I can say for Jack here," Dean was saying, gesturing to the boy behind them.

"He can hear every word you're saying, Dean," Sam shot back.

"So can I, for the record," I piped up, standing.

Both Winchesters turned at the sound of my voice, shock registering on both of their faces. Dean was the quickest to recover, dropping the duffel and handing off the sleeping child to Sam before rushing over to me with relief on his face.

"Lexi, you're okay," he breathed, wrapping me in a tight embrace. "Thank God."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Can I have my son?"

Dean released me, allowing me to walk over and take the boy from Sam. No words could describe the joy and relief I felt as I held my son. His head lay on my shoulder, nose burrowing into my neck and little hands fisting my shirt. A fresh bout of tears sprang to my eyes and I pressed my lips to the top of Milo's head.

"We would have come for you sooner, but we were busy trying to locate Cass and Kelly. Then we ran into some complications with Lucifer also trying to locate them and… It's been a rough few months."

I looked up from my son to his father as he spoke.

"Kelly had the baby?"

"Yeah, Jack…" Dean gestured behind me.

I turned to look again at the young man who had come in with the Winchesters.

"Hello," he greeted me, fingers spread in a wave as he held his hand at a right angle beside his face.

"H-hi," I stuttered. "H-how are you… How is he…?"

"According to him, he decided to appear like this. Apparently Kelly talked to him a lot over the course of the pregnancy and he figured it would be safer for him to accelerate his growth than to start out as an actual baby," Sam supplied.

"O-kay," I said slowly.

Dean cast a look at his brother who swallowed before putting a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Come on, Jack. Let's get you settled into your own room while these guys talk."

"Lexi, I-"

"Dean, I-"

We both stopped, embarrassed at talking over the other. In my arms, Milo started to stir slightly.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, baby, I'm here. It's me," I reassured the toddler.

"Lexi, I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave you with the feds. It's just-"

"Dean, I get it. I do."

"Mommy, I'm hungwy."

"Okay, sweetie, we'll get you something from the kitchen."

Dean followed me in that direction while I continued to carry the nearly-three-year-old child in my arms.

"You're getting heavy, buddy," I teased the young boy.

"I gonna be big and stwong like Daddy."

I chuckled, setting him down at the table while I went to the fridge to get him something to eat.

"Yeah, baby, you're going to be just like Daddy."

"When did they let you go?" Dean asked me.

"A week ago officially. Technically they released me about two weeks after you escaped with Sam. They just wanted to keep me close in case they got any leads and needed someone to interrogate."

"You've been back a week?"

"When they didn't find anything at that lake house Cass was renting out, they decided they didn't need me any more."

"That doesn't make any sense. If they were that close to us, wouldn't they keep you longer?"

"Look, Dean, I've had a rough few months without my son. I missed nearly a year with him and just now got him back. Can we talk about this later when he's not around to hear us argue?"

"Fine."

I gave the Winchester a pointed glare as I placed a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off and a few carrot sticks in front of our little boy. He eagerly dug into the simple meal as I took a seat beside him at the table. I reached a hand out and played with his auburn locks. The boy would need a haircut soon. It wasn't nearly as bad as his uncle's, but it was getting there. I felt Dean's eyes on me as I stared at Milo with a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"Hey, bud, wanna pick out your own room? You can have a big boy bed like Daddy."

"Okay," Milo nodded his head enthusiastically, food still stuffed in his mouth.

AN: One more and then we're moving on to MORGAN: PART 2!