Song Remains the Same

by R. W. Winters

For Alex Winchester, normal has never been in the equation. Mute since the nursery fire, she grew up on the road chasing ghosts with her brothers and father. When her voice is inexplicably restored and the angel Castiel appears claiming to be her guardian, both of their lives change forever in ways that Heaven and Earth never expected. Castiel/OFC. Sisfic - S4-9 - Alternate Ending.

141. And The Cradle Will Rock

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 141 / And The Cradle Will Rock

"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."
― William Shakespeare

---

She raced across the fiery hellscape, lungs burning and heart jackhammering in terror. "Dad!" she screamed, eyes searching for him in furious panic. Snarling demons pursued closely, scratching at her with razorblade slashes. "Where are you?!"

Even as the last desperate word tore out, her foot caught and she fell—but instead of hitting solid ground, she began to plunge endlessly into an abyss of choking, fiery darkness. Shocked hands and feet scrambled for any kind of thing to catch onto as her petrified screams mocked her, promising a fate worse than death—

And then something unseen began to shake her as a distant but urgent voice began to come through: "Alex? Alex, wake up—"

The shaking and calls of her name increased to the point it was impossible to ignore, and her senses were forcibly dragged out of the subconscious. With a deep gasp, Alex jolted awake from the nightmare, finding herself confused and in an entirely different world: the quiet, safe space of her room in the bunker. It was still dark outside—the little tunneling skylight above showed deep blue of night. The alarm clock on the table beside the bed read 4:42am. Alex's tensed muscles sagged as she gained clarity back. Of course that was a dream. But it had felt so real…

Behind her in their cozy nest of blankets, Cas held her closely in one of their most common sleeping positions: spooning. His arms tightened a little, a gentle hand caressing protectively against the swell of her belly. He dropped a soft, questioning kiss onto her shoulder. "A nightmare?" he murmured in concern, voice husky from sleep. Alex nodded stiffly, squeezing her eyes shut and shuddering out a breath—the disoriented, scary feelings had her entire body wracked with trauma. "I'm here," Cas breathed quietly against the back of her neck, and Alex nodded again, centering herself and allowing a hand to join his against her womb. Slowly, she relaxed by breathing in and out steadily. This was real. Hell was in her past. Still… it left her nauseated and sweating. For a minute, she listened to her breathing regulate and heartbeat slowing, concentrating on Cas's gentle reassurance that she was safe.

They had experienced this exact scenario quite a few times within recent memory, especially the first month post-Hell: recurring grisly nightmares that always ended with a panicking Alex waking up unsure of which direction was up and down—thankfully almost always with Cas there to soothe and steady her. The terrifying dreams had tapered off a lot since that first month… which left Alex very rueful today. "Guess it was too much to hope for, thinking they were behind me." She sighed and turned herself, nestling into his ready arms and chest as she wondered if these cursed dreams would ever fucking end.

"Well, until they are behind you…" Cas returned, the implied I'll be right here not missed. Alex felt the shadow of a smile growing. She nodded faintly and pulled back enough to study the face she loved so much. A five o'clock beard, messy hair, and familiar kind blue eyes awaited her gaze. After studying her quietly for a second, he leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly—an action that never failed to make her feel romanced in the purest of ways. Able to relax a couple degrees more, Alex settled her head down and let Cas sweetly trace errant slow touches onto the side of her face. In a growingly pleasant lull from the repetitive motion, her eyes drifted to the wall beyond Cas's shoulder where a calendar hung. And then her anxiety ticked back up a couple notches. Cas noticed her clouding look and glanced over, trying to ascertain. "What is it?"

It wasn't the cheesy flower illustration, it wasn't the month name… it was the year that had caught her dark attention. "Twenty-fourteen," she murmured tightly.

Even saying the year out loud made her uncomfortable. This subject was actually something they'd already spoken about a few times since their reunion after the fall of the angels: The would-be future Zachariah had shown Alex and Dean a lifetime ago. 2014. This was that exact year, and fears over the horrific alternate-universe still sat with Alex. Mostly because many details did disturbingly look the same or similar: Castiel human-ish and powerless, Alex expecting a child, and the Winchester family divided in two. Except this time, it was Dean out in the wind, not Sam. Yesterday's shock and tragedy replayed painfully in Alex's mind, frightening and worrying her all over again. The only small comfort she could muster was that Lucifer was locked away where he could never return. So her fears about 2014 seemed unfounded with that considered. Still…

"It just keeps bothering me."

Listening to her with measure, Cas both heard her out while giving a gentle refute. "I know. But Alex, we changed that outcome. You don't need to worry." Apprehensive hazel eyes doubted the steadfast cobalt ones. Compassionate, the fallen angel exhaled sadly on her behalf. "I do understand why you would, though."

Taking his hand in hers and holding it between their bodies, Alex ran a thumb across his knuckles in thought, distracted by her hesitation to drop this subject. She just wasn't convinced to his perspective, even if she wanted to be. "You don't think the similarities are a little… concerning?" Truthfully, she was beginning to wonder if maybe she was in some sort of hormone-induced paranoia. Vaguely, other very real pressing issues skirted around her mind: Sam, Dean, Jamie, Kevin… Dad. And last but certainly not least… her hand slipped from Cas's to protectively rest against her swelling belly. Her unborn, yet-to-be named son. The one whose first kicks she had felt last night. How strange to feel such joy and dread at the same time…

Cas's eyes followed the movement of her hand and he was thoughtful. If he was annoyed at the way she kept lingering on the subject, he didn't show it. "I think chalk it up to coincidence," he suggested graciously, catching her attention and inspiring slight amusement with his use of slang.

Coincidence. She considered that word for a very long, tense moment internally. In her experience, she was always very suspicious of things that came across as coincidence. But Cas was probably right. She hoped so, anyway. What else could it be? "Yeah," she agreed reluctantly, forcing her worries away and bringing her thoughts back to the tasks at hand. The things she could do. The things that really needed her attention. With distressing memories of yesterday's bullshit yet again resurfacing in her mind, Alex grunted unenthusiastically and rolled over and reached for her phone to see if Sam had made any new contact. His last text from around ten last night said got drunk, gotta sleep in my car, text yoi in the morning. Typo and all.

There was nothing from Dean. Not that she had expected it, but… in a small part of herself, Alex just wanted him to crawl back, admit he was wrong, make amends, and for her family to somehow be whole again. That wishlist felt staggeringly impossible, which broke her heart all over again. How was she supposed to enter this new chapter of life without her best friend at her side?

"I don't know what you're capable of anymore."

What she'd said to him yesterday resounded over and over again, making her heart ache to the point of snapping in two. Because she really did feel that way, and couldn't fathom it at all. Who are you Dean? Something she kept wondering over and over again. They used to be each other's most trusted wingman and partner. 'Bonded' was putting it mildly. Fast forward to now. Alex would never have predicted this. What if he never came back? What if something happened to one or both of them before they could reconcile? What if they could never rebuild the bridge? And what if her son grew up without knowing his Uncle Dean? Alex's chest constricted miserably as her eyes began to sting. As she'd done a thousand times yesterday and throughout a night of fitful rest, she grieved and hated her oldest brother's foolish choices, his pride, his betrayal. She was so unbelievably angry at him. But more than that, so very very hurt…

"Anything from Sam?" Cas asked, propping himself up sleepily on an arm.

With a dissatisfied sigh, Alex shook her head and set the phone down. "Nothing new." He was probably still asleep… which left her to bask in anxiety and wonder yet again where her twin had gone yesterday and what was going through his mind. She knew he was facing similar emotions to her and just wished they could support each other through this. It felt lonely and she hurt at his desertion. Tears yet again threatened to come and Alex clenched her jaw, shut her eyes, and centered herself. She couldn't just sit here and bask in all this doomsday thinking.

With sudden forcefulness, she sat up and pulled the covers off, resigning herself to take some sort of action. A hand quickly scrubbed at her face for a second as she thought about everything ahead of her. "I gotta get up and do something," she announced, then promptly hauled herself out of bed, intensely aware of how large and uncoordinated she was beginning to feel. Drifting into the middle of the room, Alex paused to put a hand onto the ever-increasing stomach she didn't entirely recognize. Even though her growing bump was small on her more petite build and most folks wouldn't even realize she was pregnant yet, she felt gigantic and weird in her own skin. Her boobs were now sore constantly and her internal organs felt like they were shifting around and pressed against from all sides. Cas came up behind her and enveloped her in a gentle embrace that she surrendered into with a sigh, complaining with a slightly forlorn effect: "I swear, I feel more pregnant every day…"

His familiar strong hands cradled against her belly lovingly. There was a small, warm chuckle just behind her ear. "Well technically you are more pregnant every day…" he observed innocently enough—and it immediately shifted Alex's mood.

"Smartass," she quipped through an impish grin as she turned to make eye contact and loop her arms around him—and just like she thought, she saw the slightest teasing there on his face. Love showered over her, and gratitude for his constant presence. As was instinct by now, a brief kiss was shared, Alex's rounder stomach pressing into Cas's flatter one. A sudden little blunt bump somewhere in between them cut the kiss short, and both of them looked down in surprise.

A quizzical, amazed little grin dawned. "…Did… did he just kick me?" Cas asked in soft awe.

That was definitely what had just happened. "He must already be working on his black belt," Alex joked through tender emotion, hands touching and thumbs rubbing softly against her abdomen in search for more movements. Love was not a large enough word to describe the way she felt in moments like these. It was like her heart was full to the brim and then some. The slow and building anticipation of meeting this little guy was nothing like anything Alex had ever experienced before—she was constantly surprised at herself and the thoughts and feelings this new life had created in her mind. The anticipation, the joy. Life and its meaning was shifting, her mind was turned in a new direction, her hopes and dreams had gained new perspective. All because of him. Another small twitch came underneath her palm, as if her son was reaching out and saying hello. Stilled by it all, Alex almost choked up as she regarded the place her child grew. "I can't wait to meet him, Cas," she whispered. "Hold him, see what he looks like…" Watch him grow. Keep him safe. Teach him everything she knew. Give him the love and safety she'd never quite known.

Cas nodded, soft and reverent. Their eyes met and lingered as hopeful elation and expectation for the future was shared. And then at the same moment, their smiles began to fade as they simultaneously thought about the same thing: Alex's fate was hanging in the balance. They needed to take action with urgency if she was to survive the dangerous birth. They'd already dilly-dallied in their half-attempts for too long. And yesterday's horror rang through Alex's mind yet again: the rogue angel in Sam's body who had attempted to kill both her and her son. Would there be more attempts? Was her offspring doomed to be hunted and hated by Heaven and Hell alike? How could someone so innocent and small be the target of such terrible intentions? It made her feel both furiously protective and incredibly distressed.

The mood between the powerless angel and pregnant hunter had by now shifted solidly into sober apprehension as they both thought for that very long, tense beat. And then Cas spoke. "I know you're determined to investigate Linda's status…" he began carefully, anxiety lining his face. "And I do know it needs immediate attention, so I'm not going to attempt to convince you out of it. But I was… well, I was thinking yesterday as I warded everything here against angels…" The tone and cadence of his voice suggested he was feeling wary, which made for an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex's stomach. Cas reached for her hands to hold in his own. "Time is of the essence and we've already waited too long."

Alex's lungs felt shallow and small. "What are you saying?"

Cas studied her eyes carefully. "I'm saying what if we were to 'divide and conquer,' so to speak? What if I go track down an angel to steal Grace from while you and Kevin find answers about his mother?"

Protests immediately gathered. "Cas…" Alex started, a certain pleading tone to her voice—but she couldn't manage more words. Because he was right—as much as it pained her, she wasn't going to selfishly break her word to Kevin. Especially not if this were an option, as Cas was clearly asserting it to be.

Gentle and grim, Cas was mournful. "I don't want to be apart either. You know I hate the mere thought." His expression conveyed just how much he meant that. He reached for her hand carefully. "But… I'd rather be apart for a little longer than lose you forever."

A brief, charged silence spanned. Separation. The last thing she would ever want, especially right now. The thought of it was even more terrifying given their ill-fated history. But, did they even have any other choice?

"I dunno, Cas…" Alex murmured as she studied the floor tensely. She kept hoping a solution would just drop out of the sky, but the hourglass was running out of sand. They didn't have the luxury of a slower approach or wishful thinking. And yet, Alex still couldn't give him a decisive answer. Not this second at least. "Lemme think about it?"

A gentle hand came to the side of her face, silently beckoning her to meet his gaze as he wordlessly nodded yes, of course. A tiny, worried smile grew despite her anxiety and she hugged him, trying not to give stage to the feelings of fear that she would lose him again. Then she exhaled wearily, trying to find a comfortable position—because even hugging felt alien these days with her growing stomach between them.

Cas embraced her warmly, navigating the bump between them with poise. He kissed her cheek softly, then drew back and admired her tenderly. A little smile hovered faintly on his face as he studied her thoroughly. "You're so beautiful this way," he murmured, inspiring a doubtfully amused raise of the eyebrows. Alex knew she looked tired, sloppy, and haggard when she first woke up, but Cas never seemed to see her as even slightly off-putting no matter what state she found herself in. His eye contact grew more soulful and serious. "Not a day goes by I don't thank all of creation for you both. I'll do whatever it takes to keep us all safe."

Alex couldn't help but smile back, however tinged it was by worry. "So will I," she reminded with a quiet fire to her voice. Because Cas needed to be kept safe too.

The shit out there against them was daunting to put it mildly. With a dutiful, bracing breath in, Alex straightened and gave an assertive little nod, turning her thoughts and running through her to-do list for the day. Her first priority and focus was on keeping her word to Kevin but also getting it done as soon as possible too so other pressing matters could be attended to. She ruffled her husband's hair affectionately, putting on a positive and cavalier front for both their sake. "I'm gonna get us the locations of Crowley's favorite evil lairs, 'kay?"

Cas nodded thoughtfully, already knowing her general plan for how to find out if Linda Tran was still alive—they'd discussed it last night. Instead of going back to bed like he very well could have, Cas went over to the dresser and began pulling outfits out for them both, knowing which clothes Alex found comfortable and preferred to wear at this stage of pregnancy. Maternity jeans, an oversized top, and a boxy, soft gray hoodie plus socks, underwear, and shoes with a supportive sole. He neatly stacked the items up for her beside his selections for himself. "I'll make breakfast while you do that," he volunteered.

Alex sighed gustily with a satisfied affect, because despite it all, he was so wonderful and she really did love him beyond comprehension. "Speaking my language," she joked affectionately, then hugged him quickly from behind best she could before grabbing her clothes. She headed to the bathroom to do her morning routine and as she fell into the lull of basic hygiene and dressing herself, darker thoughts she didn't want to acknowledge circled the edge of her mind. All the possibilities of what could go very wrong felt too real and too close. She had to bank on her commitment to seeing shit through. With or without her brothers… but she certainly hoped it was with them.

Come home soon, she prayed silently to Sam.

And for Dean? She didn't know what to pray.

---

Forty-Five Minutes Later

The increasingly pregnant hunter stooped low with a grunt, struggling to gracefully complete the chalk demon summons on the concrete floor of the bunker exercise room.

Huffing and puffing briefly, Alex made the final marks then pushed herself up to stand, letting out a slightly exasperated huff. Everything was getting trickier with this steadily ballooning stomach in the way. Inclined to lean back into her hips even while standing up these days, her palms found her lower back as she checked over her work. Everything looked right. But damn it had taken her a lot longer than it used to.

"This belly," she commented to herself in affectionate frustration, rubbing a hand across the swell… then she stopped abruptly to snatch her shirt and hoodie up when she felt a new thing she hadn't expected to feel. She stared down at her belly button, which last she'd checked had been flat and turned inward. It was now fully popped out.

Did that literally happen in the time between waking up and now?!

Blinking in surprise and experiencing a brief flash of dread—this pregnancy was progressing insanely fast—Alex could do little but experience the wave of emotion then sigh out helplessly. "You're really in a hurry to get here, huh?" she murmured, affectionate and apprehensive at the same time. It was her norm to feel a steady mix of joy and fear at most times now. It made her think about Cas's idea to divide and conquer again, and how urgently she needed to make a decision on that. Even if it was the last thing she wanted… she didn't think there was a choice here anymore.

But first things first: she eyed the demon summons on the floor and drew a small wooden stick tipped in red out of the matchbook she held. Alex believed in keeping her word. So if Linda Tran was still alive… they'd find her. Alex struck the match and dropped it into the bowl then chanted softly:

"...Ad constringendum, ad ligandum eos pariter et solvendum et ad congregandum eos coram me."

The old, familiar words conjured an equally familiar sight: Meg.

She had appeared with her back to Alex. Suspicious, the demon turned—then her face took on what could be called a friendly smile when she saw who it was that had asked for a moment of her time. "Ariel!" she greeted pleasantly, cracking a grin and striking up with the humor immediately. "Don't tell me you miss me already," she teased, posturing flirtatiously. "Or do. Put a smile on Auntie Meg's face."

Predictable. And almost charming—almost. Alex shook her head and stifled a sigh at the predictable theatrics but she couldn't quite hide her little conflicted smile. "You're unbearable."

Meg took it as a compliment. "Kettle, Pot," she joked, then began to eye Alex more closely, especially in the midsection area. "Huh—you somehow look bigger than you did yesterday," she observed, and Alex swore she heard a tinge of actual, authentic concern. Dark brown eyes flicked up to meet hazel ones. "Everything okay in there?"

The question surprised Alex, and she hid her reaction by instinct then sidestepped the question completely, feeling a bit awkward in doing so. "I'm fine, I uh, need a favor. Intel on Crowley's favorite places to put prisoners."

Dark eyebrows rose faintly as a veiled amusement mixed with puzzlement. "…Haven't you been to at least one of those when you, um, tortured me mercilessly?" Meg's smirk indicated she was playing around, but the jab pricked Alex in a sore place. The hunter's silence shifted toward a bit more tense quality even as the demon grew a touch more curiously shrewd. "Who or what exactly are you after…?"

Alex contemplated the demon with a quiet expression. "That's classified."

A small flicker of disappointment showed, which Meg quickly covered by rolling her eyes and folding her arms, smirking for good measure. "Fine, keep your secrets." She feigned offhanded interest as she paced a few steps, checking out the summons drawn on the floor, no doubt noticing the lack of a devil's trap. She was free to leave whenever she pleased. An olive branch that Alex never would have imagined extending before, but hey. Times were apparently changing. Meg stopped and looked at Alex again, becoming fractionally more serious. "I'll tell you what you need to know. I owe you a favor or five hundred, after all. And hey, if it means pissing Crowley off, you know I'm game—but excuse me if all I do is snitch and ditch. Couldn't pay me to walk back into any of these places, feel me?"

Alex nodded, a little surprised Meg thought she was also being asked to come along to help out in the efforts. Interesting. In whatever case, Alex produced a little map booklet of the continental United States plus a sharpie and handed them over, indicating that Meg get started.

Meg took the items, but didn't stop studying Alex. "What's wrong, pookie?" What once might have had an acidic, resentful undertone to it instead held true curiosity. "Seems like there's a little less air in your balloon than usual."

Alex contemplated Meg for a moment despite herself. "That obvious, huh?" The soft, almost forlorn question just slipped out. The two women remained silent for a moment—Meg surprised and interested, Alex dubious and faltering. Maybe pregnancy was making her stupid, maybe it was guilt over the torture she'd inflicted mercilessly onto Meg in the past, possibly it was the slight and accidental bonding that had taken place between them at that hospital when Cas was crazy but… Alex was actually contemplating telling Meg their plight with the Nephilim pregnancy. What the hell, Alex? Get a friggin' grip. She doubled down with some discomfort. "Just the locations Meg."

Darkly curious eyes studied Alex a moment longer, then turned toward the map. Meg was clearly skeptical, but brushed it off and complied. She went with purpose to the little table nearby and smacked the map down then studiously flipped through and on certain pages made markings, tapping the sharpie against her lip in thought between writing notes beside some of the locations she circled. She threw a few cursory glances Alex's way, but didn't ask any more questions.

Alex remained silent and paced a slow, watchful path around the table. She was now the one wondering. About where Meg spent her time these days—if she had any allies, hobbies, or relationships. Did she have a home? A purpose? And was that purpose for good or for bad? A mystery Alex found herself examining at length as the demon finished her work. After all, she'd learned quite a few things over the years and had many beliefs challenged. She'd discovered that many angels were wicked—and was beginning to wonder if maybe some demons had the capacity for good.

"All done," Meg finally announced, then handed over the map with a smile that was somehow both assured and hooded.

Alex took the map and marker back, almost letting that be the end of their interaction. But her internal curiosities won out. "What do you do, Meg? In your free time." A nearly inscrutable expression met the question, but yes—there was a shimmer of surprise that drifted across the demon's familiar round face. When no answer came, Alex prompted playfully to try and make it less intense. "I mean, Hell doesn't want you. Heaven thinks you're an abomination."

"Yeah and the whole of earth seems to think I'm a piece of shit too," Meg returned lightly, turning to humor as always. "Whaddayagonnado?" She gave a very theatrical shrug and played the part of someone who didn't give a crap almost perfectly. "Sure does put a damper on a girl's sense of self-worth and confidence though, not gonna lie!" The false nonchalance didn't hold. Suspicion or intrigue was there under her surface and she paused for a tellingly long beat. "Didn't think you cared either way how I spent my time."

With a surprising intensity, the moment suddenly felt way too vulnerable. And therefore, unsafe. Shaking her head with carefully put-on offhandedness, Alex shrugged faintly. "Just curious."

Meg shifted her weight, eyes solid on the hunter as she considered for a very long couple of seconds before primly declaring, "Well. You know what they say about curiosity."

Alex nodded and indicated the map booklet she held, effectively ending the uncomfortable interaction. "Thanks Meg."

There was a weighted pause between the two. And then a surprisingly rueful smile from Meg. "Anytime." She paused, then said something that, again, felt eerily genuine. "You be careful out there, baby Winchester."

Alex was cautious and guarded, but she had to admit it to herself: she saw Meg as more than just an asset to use… and had for awhile now. "Yeah," she replied quietly. "You too." Was this actually becoming some kind of friendship?

Maybe that was what the demon was wondering. Meg looked Alex up and down inscrutably… then disappeared with a cheeky little wink-smile combination.

List of locations in hand, Alex drew in a deep breath, shoved the weird feelings and questions away, then squared her shoulders as she flipped through and took quick inventory of all the places marked. There were quite a few in Kansas, and a small handful in other areas of North America. Now came the hard part: following up on all the leads.

A worried, distracted hand skimmed over the popped belly button underneath the layers she wore. Her troubled mind began to go on overdrive as she turned on her heel.

---

In the library, Kevin was visibly in different spirits than his previous squalor of depression: he was washed, dressed, and had even brushed his hair. He popped up from his seat the second he saw Alex emerging from deeper within the bunker. Apparently, he was too antsy to sleep in. "Are those Crowley's locations?!" he asked breathlessly as Alex held up the map booklet.

She managed a meaningful smile despite her distracted mind. "These are the locations."

Kevin lit up anew, fear and excitement making him look jumpy. "Oh wow," he breathed, then wet his lips with bright, energetic eyes. "When do we start?!" His relief and eagerness were endearing reminders of the importance of this mission.

Patting him on the shoulder, Alex ever so briefly forgot her newfound issue. "Soon. Hopefully today." It was like she'd just told him Christmas was tomorrow, that's the way his expression worked. Chuckling despite herself, Alex glanced toward the bunker hallway where his room wasn't too far off. "I'd get your bags packed stat."

Kevin was both delighted and terrified, already scurrying off with an, "I'm on it!" thrown over his retreating shoulder. Alex watched him for an increasingly apprehensive second. She sure did hope this would end with a positive outcome. For Kevin's sake. She didn't really want to think about the alternative.

Making her way to the kitchen with that plus the latest new alarming development on her mind, the smell of sausage and cinnamon rolls almost distracted her from her mission. Almost. She went over to apron-wearing Cas, who was plating the breakfast neat and precise as always. Alex unceremoniously snatched his free hand into hers and said, "Hey, feel," with no fanfare. She pressed his palm to her protruding bellybutton and he immediately made a surprised face which confirmed to her that she wasn't nuts. "That wasn't like that just an hour ago, right?" she whispered for no apparent reason. He studied the pregnancy books much more meticulously than she did so he already must know why she was flipping out, but just in case, Alex was already nervously explaining why this was freaky: "The books said that's supposed to happen around twenty weeks, and I'm only like ten."

The two of them looked at each other in significant distress. It was disconcerting to not know how long her pregnancy was supposed to last, and it almost seemed to be gathering speed at Alex's best estimation. While there wasn't a guide to angel/human pregnancies, the belly button pop seemed to indicate she was swiftly on her way toward the third trimester. She'd done the math as she had exited the bunker gym and made her way in here and she could possibly be giving birth in a month or two at this rate!

Cas was obviously on the same train track of thought. He swallowed and exhaled shakily, his face etching with tense worry. "Not to be an alarmist, but my stress level just increased by fifty percent or more."

Alex made a face inspired by her chagrin and dread. "Same."

It felt like the stakes were rising on an hourly basis now. And Cas, usually so patient, lost his more restrained approach. He took off his apron with a hard face, standing tall and resolute. "I need to do what we've talked about," he insisted with rising intensity. "Now. Every day is the difference between yourlife and death." He swallowed, losing a little bit of volume. "Both of yours." He shook his head dismally. "We have no choice. We can't delay any longer. I have to go."

He was right. And the emotion was too much, making Alex feel trapped into a situation she couldn't fathom. Her eyes stung with powerless tears as her stomach churned. "But I can't let you go do this by yourself, Cas!" she protested.

He looked just as pained as she did, but remained gentle, placing two caring hands on either side of her. "I know. But you made a promise to Kevin."

Yes she did. And she couldn't go back on that but—! Fuck. Alex swore under her breath and put her hands on her head briefly as stress levels rose. This was an impossible situation.

Just then the unmistakable sound of the bunker door shutting drew Alex's attention. Someone had entered. Hoping against hope (even though it could just be Bobby coming in from his RV) she hurried to the kitchen door that let out into the control room—and relief surged when she laid eyes on who had just arrived. It wasn't Bobby coming down the stairs. It was her twin. "Sam!" she exclaimed, breathlessly dashing across the small space to meet him at the bottom of the stairs where she crashed into him for a relieved hug. For a second they embraced tightly, then Alex yanked back. "Where've you been?" she asked urgently, looking him over for any signs of trouble. He looked pale and ill as he had for some time now and very sad, but otherwise unharmed. "You okay?" she prodded, having to hold herself back from outright demanding immediate, thorough answers.

Apology rested in the pained hazel depths that so closely matched her own. "Sorry, I know you were worried." The picture of broken-spirited, he hesitated. "I was… taking care of some stuff." He grew reluctant and a shade more withdrawn. "I broke up with Molly."

Understanding deflated Alex's shoulders as pain on his behalf blossomed. "Oh Sam."

He shook his head and walked off toward the control center table sightlessly, dragging a hand across his mouth. In the doorway of the kitchen, Cas watched quietly and Alex followed after her brother by a couple of drifting footsteps. "My life is a goddamn mess," Sam muttered hollowly before giving a weak excuse for a self-loathing laugh. "Dunno know what I was thinking, dating someone." He straightened up a little like he was bracing himself. "But I'm not anymore, so." He turned around, pushing his personal feelings away. He could see from the look on Alex's face that she wanted to have a heart to heart, but he shut that down guiltily, dodging her appealing eyes and mentioning their brother without using his name. "Look, right now, I wanna do anything but talk about him if that's okay," he said, then glanced at the forgotten booklet Alex still held in her hand. He honed in eagerly. "You putting together a mission?"

Glancing at the map of locations she didn't even remember she was holding, Alex found herself unable to reply. She was totally overwhelmed and didn't even know where to start explaining everything. Only herself and Cas knew about the potentially fatal nature of her pregnancy so far. Sam needed to know. Hell, so did Bobby at this point… but Alex felt frozen and out of her depth at the idea of telling them the truth.

That's when Cas came into the room. There was something to his energy that Alex hadn't seen in quite a long time: a clear mission. A resolute strength. He took over, drawing Sam's attention. "We are, Sam, but there's something else dire that needs to be attended to as well."

There was immediate hesitation and a dread-filled glance from Sam at Alex. She withered guiltily, giving away the nature of what Cas had just mentioned, and as a result, Sam's voice softened apprehensively. "…Why do I get the feeling you're about to give me more bad news?"

Castiel and Alex shared a brief, weighted glance before the fallen angel fixed the other man with a regretful gaze. "You have very good instincts, Sam."

The next hour or so would become quite the scene. As Cas and Alex in turn explained to Sam about the need to steal Grace from an angel in order to save Alex's life, Sam was understandably upset and shocked, not to mention borderline angry. Underneath it all was fear, which Alex recognized and felt too. Sam was team 'immediate solution now' then quickly became flabbergasted when his sister refused to budge off of finding Linda—whose life Alex insisted was just as important as her own. Neither Sam or Cas could argue against her there.

Bobby and Kevin came in to the scene around that time and Alex decided to just lay everything on the line and let them all know everything about the potentially fatal pregnancy. In the face of their stunned reactions and Sam's increasing restless anxiety plus Bobby and Kevin's uncertainty of how to react exactly, Cas made a very convincing and quick plan of action: he would head out immediately to seek an angel while Alex and Kevin made quick work of checking into all of Crowley's bases in Kansas. Sam insisted on accompanying Cas (which the ex-angel was very touched by and appreciative of), and Bobby volunteered himself to go with Alex and Kevin.

Because time was of the essence, everyone made to move out at the same time in a flurry of action. Before Alex could even fully process, between Bobby's hulking Winnebago and Sam's Toyota Land Cruiser, everything was loaded, packed, and set to go—and then it was suddenly time to say goodbye.

The twins specifically seemed to realize it first of all and a very pained look was shared. While Sam's exact state of mind remained a mystery, Alex could only feel dread about being separated from both her husband and brother. Life and circumstance had a nasty habit of turning itself on its head and leaving her to pick the pieces up—but the pattern was old. And Alex was tired. She tried to soldier through regardless, because what else was there to do?

By instinct, she could sense her twin was feeling much the same. He drew himself up and nodded crisply, his face a mask of apprehensive determination. "Okay. Stay sharp. Keep contact." He glanced grimly from Alex to Bobby to Kevin. "Watch each other's backs out there."

With a nod, Alex sat on her growing stress and put on an outward resolute affect, similar to her brother's. She had to prove herself and stay strong even though this was the pits. "You too." All she wanted to do was shelter Sam from all this pain they were both feeling. It was easy to look him in the eye and see how much unspoken grief he was carrying. How much pain over Dean and everything surrounding all of that. But neither of them spoke to any of it.

Sam hugged his twin briefly, shook hands with Bobby, then patted Kevin on the shoulder, the entire time visibly pushing emotion away before he plodded over to the Toyota and got in. Kevin and Bobby said bye to Cas, then just the angel and his wife remained standing somberly between the vehicles. For a minute neither said anything. It felt like saying much would break them both down. Alex forced a watery smile in the face of her sadness, doubt, and worry—wishing they weren't going separate ways. "Don't be long," she requested in a soft murmur, holding his eyes with hers pleadingly in ways she couldn't verbalize. "We need you."

He nodded slowly, holding her gaze with a depth of emotion that was almost painful. "I know," he responded quietly, deep voice catching. "I need you too."

Nothing was left to say. So they embraced tightly, faces pressed close with foreheads touching, eyes clenched closed, and arms holding near. A long moment of fervent silence later, they both knew they couldn't stay any longer. So they drifted away reluctantly from each other, hands slipping apart last.

---

Four Days Later
Wichita, Kansas

A cool breeze ghosted across the bleak, rural landscape that served as home to a condemned old power plant. A group of three trudged out into waning dusk light. Leading the way, Alex cast a terse glance around their immediate surroundings before drawing out the booklet of Crowley's hiding places. With a muffled, frustrated sigh, she marked an X for yet another dead end. It was hard not to feel dejected at this point, but she was doing her best to not show her growing concern and fraying patience.

In the past very intense, sleep-deprived four days, they'd managed to check out nearly twenty of the twenty-six Kansas locations Meg had circled—and their findings were bleak. Most of the structures they explored were desolate and abandoned with only a few indications that Crowley had ever been there at all. A handful of the places had been home to a few lingering demons, who quickly met their end thanks to Alex and Bobby's blades. Even Kevin got some demon slaying practice in—reluctant participant or not. But other than that, they found nothing. No living prisoners. No leads. No sign of Linda at all.

Today as they reconvened outside of Bobby's Winnebago, it was easy to see just how the young prophet felt. His optimism was fading, replaced by a grim fear for the worst. That slowly descending mood would make him dead weight to this mission if he let himself lose hope completely. By instinct, Alex wearily tried to console him as the group came to a stop in a loose formation. "Keep your chin up, Kev—it's not over til it's over."

A depressed, half-present glance came her way. "I know." His countenance abruptly darkened into powerless sad anger. "But maybe it is over." In a sudden burst of movement he stalked off about ten paces, taking some space while hiding his more vulnerable emotions.

Both of the watching hunters understood his feelings, of course. They had seen their measure of loss, despair, and injustice for what was now a lifetime. It never got easier.

Obviously weary to his bones but not having mentioned it even once, Bobby exhaled heavily and leaned against the aluminum siding of his RV. Alex mimicked him momentarily, crossing her arms over her steadily ballooning middle as her gaze stayed tensely on Kevin. Her thoughts drifted and glazed over. Yesterday, what she was pretty sure what were Braxton Hicks contractions had started—nothing too intense, but another signal that she was about halfway through pregnancy already, despite only technically being a little over a couple months along. She was feeling one of the contractions right now: a tightening sensation in her lower abdomen not too unlike mild menstrual cramps. With a hand descending to hug against the lower curve of her belly as she masked a twinge of discomfort, she checked her phone, disappointed and uneasy when she saw that neither Cas nor Sam had returned contact yet. It had been about eight hours since she'd heard from them last—so maybe they were onto something and focused on a break in the case—or maybe something bad had happened. The phone went back down to her side as her blank gaze wandered the landscape ahead unseeingly. This sucked.

As if he were listening to her silent thoughts, there was a little series of shifting movements in her womb, inspiring brief reprieve from all the darker thoughts. Cas Junior (as she'd affectionally and unofficially nicknamed him for now) was moving around more and more all the time, reminding his mama that he was with her. Love amidst the chaos gave her the ability to smile, even if it was tainted by vast worry for the unknown future. Life at the apartment with Cas in Lawrence felt like a distant dreamworld—a sweet chorus of life lived slowly in a cloud of sweet nothings. It was an existence she wanted to get back to, but also an existence she wasn't sure she was allowed to have longterm. Fate or destiny or whatever it was kept pushing her onto the rails of doom and gloom and endless problems. Alex found herself yearning for that time of just herself and Cas and their hopes for the future. The slow mornings when they'd both been off work spent laying in bed and cuddling, making slow, sleepy love then napping and eating and watching old movies. The reading each other baby and parenting books while laying tangled up on the couch. The shared lunches during work breaks, the walks home together—even paying bills and cleaning the apartment were beautiful memories somehow. But as sweet as those recollections were, Alex felt more guilt than anything else about not taking action sooner. It had been a bad move.

With eyes on the desolate landscape around them, Alex had to push away the instinct to become foul. Reality was a much harsher place than her nostalgic daydreams. And she was scared.

"You hangin' in?" Bobby asked presently, bringing her out of the clouds.

Alex sighed long and tired. A question she didn't want to think about. "I guess."

Bobby nodded with a thoughtful low mmhmm, giving away the fact that he already knew what was up. "Tough spot we're all in," he counseled gravely. "But I gotta just keep hangin' onto the fact of the matter."

Interest piqued, Alex glanced his way. "…Which is what?"

A secretive, careworn smile came her way. Like he knew the answers to the universe itself. "Same stuff I've always said: Nothin's forever, kiddo. Including this mess we're in. Every day we keep trekkin' through this muck, closer we get to the other side. Don't forget it."

Alex helplessly sent a little smile at the forever-tenacious Bobby Singer who knew the odds, the stakes, the issues, and still hung in no matter what. Inspired to sidle closer, Alex let her her head snuggle down onto his shoulder briefly. He leaned his head to rest against hers. Their silent way of saying I love you. Ever since his resurrection, he'd been a little more affectionate than before. Dying did tend to put some things into perspective. Alex knew that fact firsthand, and honestly needed the reminder that she wasn't alone.

After a minute, Bobby pulled his head away and craned his head to gauge Alex with eye contact. "You wanna call it a day?" he asked gently, and seeing her hesitation, he smiled all lopsided and put a brief hand on the side of her head. "Worry about ya, super-powered or not." He tweaked her cheek with the lightest touch, that crooked smile nearly obscured by his facial hair—but his beard couldn't hide the tenderness that rested in his eyes.

Smiling back in kind was automatic. "I know you do," Alex answered softly, but what she really meant and felt was damn, I really do love you. Not for the first time nor the last, she recognized how meaningful this man was in her life throughout the years. How much they meant to each other. How glad she was that he was back in the land of the living. Briefly, her thoughts flashed over to Dad… and she felt a dip down into the familiar hollow pain. The guilt, confusion, the endless questions. Why would he just bail like he did? Where was he? She just couldn't accept that he had abandoned them all again. She hoped she didn't have to wonder about his motivations forever. But for now, that's all she could do.

Sober, Alex glanced over at Kevin. He was still a few yards off with his back to them. The mission to find Linda felt increasingly doomed. But like she'd said to the prophet a few minutes ago… it wasn't over until it was over. And the sooner they got through this list of Kansas locations, the sooner she could reunite with Cas and Sam. According to their texts and phone calls, her brother and husband were having similarly tough luck. They reported that it felt like a wild goose chase trying to track an angel down, much less potentially a group of them. Another stress piling on top of multiple other problems.

Exhaling harshly as she made herself resolute, Alex lifted up the booklet and scanned the map, then tapped one of the circles that had no notes beside it. "Let's go check this spot out. It's only about fifteen miles south."

Bobby eyed her with faint uncertainty and glanced at the horizon's waning light. "It'll be dark soon, you sure?"

Shoving the booklet into a shape that fit into her back pocket, Alex nodded yes with far off eyes. "The sooner we can get through this list, the better."

Bobby straightened up, ready to move out despite how tired he clearly was. "Aye aye, Captain."

Eyes still on Kevin's slumped shoulders, Alex exhaled harshly to bolster herself. "Lemme go talk to the kid."

She took her time approaching, trying to think of what she could say—she was getting better at talking to people as the years went on, but she didn't feel too confident about how to console Kevin. Turns out she didn't have to speak first though: as she came up alongside him, he turned his head a fraction and without making eye contact, he spoke soft and broken. "I guess I was being stupid, thinking we'd find her." His eyes were glinting. "I just… I had this feeling. Like I knew she was still out there and…" his words choked on emotion as his voice began to distort. "Maybe she's not." He screwed his eyes shut and his features twisted as he fought devastation and tears truly began to come. "I hate my life, Alex," he confessed through a heartbreaking series of sobs he barely stifled. "Every last part of it!" He shook his head, looking at the sky briefly to semi-compose himself before his agonized eyes looked into hers, begging for answers. "Why did this happen to me?"

To look at this barely-legal kid who had everything taken from him without a choice, to feel his pain and understand it so clearly, to know she could do nothing to take it from him… Alex felt like she could cry too. As she thought about how to possibly answer him and felt faint little movements in her belly, she wondered very briefly if herchild would someday ask her something similar… which was a devastating thing to contemplate. All she could do was be brutally honest: "There is no why." The quiet answer was nearly apologetic, because she wished badly that she had a better answer. But she didn't, and her voice softened further still as her own sadness came to the surface. "Trust me… I've wondered 'why' my whole life."

Kevin sniffed, withdrawing into a hushed, tense silent for a couple long forlorn beats. "I just want it to stop," he finally whispered. And he obviously knew it wouldn't. It was a heartbreaking thing to bear witness to.

His distressed gaze came back to hers again, silently pleading for her to somehow make it okay. All Alex could do was place a gentle, understanding hand onto his shoulder. "We still have five whole places left to check here in Kansas," she reminded carefully, then made a plea of her own: "Don't decide it's over until it's really over."

It took him a couple of seconds but then Kevin nodded tearfully. He appeared vaguely ill, and his voice was a mere, frightened whisper. "…I just won't be able to take it if we don't find her, Alex."

She understood that feeling completely. But the fact was… he needed to prepare himself for that possibility. Alex couldn't bring herself to say it though. So instead, she hugged him gently. As she did, she caught Bobby's grim expression over Kevin's shoulder.

Every day we keep trekkin' through this muck, closer we get to the other side.

While that was true and somewhat comforting… Alex also knew that what was on that other side remained to be seen. She tightened her arms a little around Kevin briefly, trying to reassure him… even as she thought about how much she needed reassurance too.

---

Later

The location Alex had decided they needed to go ahead and check out was an old mental institution surrounded by a tall razorwire-topped chainlink fence. The building the barrier encircled was straight out of some kind of horror movie: Dark looming windows marched across a soulless brick exterior and overgrown landscaping cast eerie shadows in the rising moonlight. The silence was unnerving.

Bobby said what they were all thinking as they stood outside the fence: "Well ain't this just the most sinister mess you ever seen…"

Kevin hesitated, his nerves on full display. "Is it just me or does this place look… haunted?"

"What and those others dumps didn't?" Bobby challenged in semi-amusement.

"Well if it is haunted, Kev…" Alex said, taking the wire cutters from Bobby's offering hand, "You're with the right crew."

She made a few precise cuts, pushed the cut section of fencing in, and they slipped through under the cover of night. The thrill-seeker in Alex had always liked the adrenaline rush that urban exploration gave. Right now if nothing else, it was an excellent distraction from the world and all its many problems. While Alex of course famously felt weird about what Dean always called 'loony bins,' she wasn't as phobic as she used to be. Not after Sunny Meadows and all of that. But yeah, a deserted mental hospital still felt especially creepy somehow and she sort of wished they had checked this place out during daylight hours. But they were here now and it was time to just get it over with.

As the group skirted the perimeter of the building and circled the entire structure to observe the exterior before breaking and entering, they found all exits triple padlocked and chained from the outside and all windows covered by solid metal bars. It had the look and feel of a prison. There were no signs of activity inside, but that didn't necessarily mean much. Once the outside was cleared, they chose a small side door to make entry.

After cutting the chains and opening a door that had almost sealed itself shut from years of moisture buildup, the cautious three drifted inside, flashlights held high. Immediately, the shut-in smell hit Alex and she knew they were not alone. Her adrenaline picked up and she gripped her angel blade tighter. "Smell that?" she whispered, flashlight beam exploring the cluttered, dusty hallway ahead.

Quiet as a mouse beside her, Kevin's loudest sound was his shallow, nervous breathing. "Demons," he confirmed in a whisper, earning a brief, approving nod from Alex. Kid was catching on fast. The unmistakable tang of sulphur laced the musty air.

"Look sharp," Bobby advised lowly, even as a group of four ruggedly dressed demons materialized in front of them. All four of them had bruises, cuts, and gashes as if they'd been attacked recently, and all four appeared genuinely surprised and confused to see the newcomers. Even as one of the demons demanded to know who they were, Alex was reacting by instinct and using the advantage of surprise, attacking without hesitation. Bobby and Kevin joined in, and they made quick work of the injured, disoriented demons.

Afterward and standing over the battered bodies, Alex was highly perplexed. The demons' state of injury was… weird. She glanced over at Bobby. He was obviously thinking the same thing. They both made a mutual mental note and moved onward, clearing the first floor then the second and third. All empty, silent, and unoccupied. Kevin was jumpy but getting better at not showing it, but before they descended into the last area they needed to check, he asked it they really had to check down there. The basement was padlocked like the exterior had been, and once they broke that chain, they saw an ominous old staircase descending down into total darkness.

It was easy to empathize with Kevin. It immediately looked like a great place to get murdered or discover some sort of monster lying in wait—but hey, no stone unturned. So Alex went first, shoving away the heebie jeebies and remaining on high alert with every quiet, careful footstep down the metal stairs. With her torch in one hand and angel blade in the other, her heartbeat hammered nervously in her ears. Behind her, Bobby was close with his flashlight, and Kevin hovered at the top of the staircase, cringing and following at a slow, reluctant creep.

Reaching the ground floor the wide, soft beam of Alex's flashlight illuminated overturned medical carts, old cots, clinical paraphernalia, and lastly… something straight ahead that moved.

Startled and immediately assuming it was another demon, Alex moved in with a threatening stance, even though whoever or whatever it was had ducked down to hide. "Come out where we can see you!" she barked, even as something else from within the darkness launched itself at her, tackling her sidelong with a yell. Her flashlight and blade went flying even as Alex realized a couple things very quickly: someone about her size was grappling with her, trying to choke her as they rolled around sightlessly. Even in the dark as Bobby shouted and his flashlight beam dropped, Alex turned the tables, finding her assailant's neck and crushing her currently super-strength hands around their throat—her attacker immediately let go of her to scramble their hands against hers, and she let go with one hand and punched blindly and repeatedly as hard as she could, screaming in animalistic fury as her fist made contact with what she was pretty sure was the side of someone's head.

Overhead lights suddenly flipped on, thanks to a panicking Kevin trying a wall switch that still worked off a backup generator.

Even as Alex squinted against the sudden buzzing brightness, she registered that Bobby was dragging her attacker off of her. And then she recognized who it was right as he recognized her. Her eyes went wide as saucers.

"…You!" she breathed in absolute shock, still sprawled on her back and elbows.

Stunned eyes stared back at her from underneath a mop of messy blonde hair. It was the last person she ever expected to see: Zip, the Leviathan, who she last heard was presumed dead. He very much wasn't. Her jaw dropped despite herself. Something was way off with him—besides being underweight and paler than before, bright red blood inexplicably ran down the side of his face and he had older evidence of other injuries too: a gash that had scabbed his lip, a fading black eye, and other various sized cuts and scabs all over his face and hands. Leviathans didn't bleed, and they definitely didn't bruise or scab. So maybe that wasn't him, Alex reasoned. But he clearly knew her and was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. "…Alex?" he asked in a disbelieving whisper, confirming that it was somehow indeed him. She couldn't find a response.

But someone else recognized him too. "Kyle?" Kevin breathed, his stunned mouth hanging open as his eyebrows knit in shock, confusion, and even a little happiness. Noticing the prophet for the first time, Zip's expression fell into disbelieving relief and growing joy. The Leviathan didn't get a chance to say anything. "Is my mom here?!" Kevin asked urgently, hurrying up and then noticing with great confusion what Alex had: "You're bleeding…"

"Alright, someone wanna explain who this kid is?" Bobby asked impatiently, his arm lock on the boy keeping him trapped. But his question would wait.

The place where Alex had seen movement before produced a small Asian woman standing up slowly in a trance of disbelief. She was in similar shape to Zip: badly beaten, bruised, dirty, thin, and pale. One of her arms was in some kind of makeshift sling. But her expression was the kind that said it all and then some. Her eyes were bright, already flooding with emotion. "Kevin!"

In a dream, Kevin turned and saw her, and his face registered powerfully overcome sentiment. All his wretched hopes and dreams hadn't been in vain. His mother was miraculously still alive and well. The prophet lost composure, shuddered out a sobbing sound before springing over and barreling into the woman for all he was worth. "Mom!"

The woman—obviously Linda Tran—clung to her son with her good arm and they both openly wept for joy, holding each other like they would never let go. "Oh, my son! My son has come for me!"

"Mom, oh Mom!" Kevin choked out. "I never thought I'd see you again!"

Even as the touching reunion unfolded with the mother and son asking each other if they were okay, Alex slowly rose up with a dangerous expression on her face as she held the somehow-bleeding Leviathan under her intense and wary scrutiny. Something about this wasn't right.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you, I thought you were one of the demons!" Zip explained in a terrified rush, cowering in Bobby's hold even as Alex bore down and then suddenly yanked him away, whirling him and putting him into a vicious chokehold as she forced him down to his knees.

"What the hell are you doing here, huh?! And why are you bleeding?!" she demanded, even as she took note of how his super strength seemed to be gone—he struggled against her valiantly, but was no match at all. Scared that this was some sort of nasty trick he was playing, Alex was choking him so hard he couldn't have answered if he even wanted to. "What kind of shit is this?!"

"Stop, stop!" Kevin rushed over and was attempting to pull Alex off in a panic. "What are you doing!? Let go!" Even Linda was crying out protest, suddenly pulling on Alex's other arm. While none of them could physically compete with her current supernatural strength, Bobby's thundering command broke through the trance.

"Everyone just cool it!" he roared, and suddenly realizing she was out of line, Alex let go. Zip collapsed onto the floor gasping and wheezing, grabbing at his own throat. The Trans both went to him instantly, disconcerting Alex further.

"Someone explain this whole thing to me," she demanded breathlessly. She felt half crazy. "Now!"

Linda was similarly aghast with befuddled distress, crouching beside 'Kyle' and by all appearances concerned like he was a friend of hers. "Who are you people?" she asked, first looking to Alex and then Bobby before looking to her son for explanation.

Breathing hard, Kevin answered as he helped support the rasping Leviathan. "That's Alex, Sam and Dean's sister—and uh, Bobby Singer. Friend of the family."

Bobby forged a wan smile for civility and briefly pinched the brim of his ballcap. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am."

Unconvinced, Linda studied him and then Alex in turn. "Uh huh." Even in her state, she seemed remarkably sharp. "Well look, there must be some mistake here," she reasoned firmly, then looked at Alex. "Kyle here has protected me more times than I can count—we've kept each other alive in this dump for god knows how long. He's a friend of my son's, so I'm sure he can vouch for him too."

Linda's conviction was so persuasive that Alex felt like maybe she did have it wrong… and she guiltily remembered her once-friendship with the Leviathan that turned into a confused encounter they'd shared one night. Then had come the betrayal, the semi-stalking, his outburst that should have killed her, his betrayal to Dick Roman… then the subsequent change of heart and rescue. Logically, she knew that the good things he'd done for her had outnumbered the bad. He'd made getting into Purgatory possible, for crying out loud—and speaking of, she hadn't thought of him since then really… but she was automatically put right back into the very complex, confused way she felt about him. Nothing romantic—the feelings were more similar to the moral dilemma she was having about Meg recently. In whatever cast, her ego wanted him to be bad and evil, but he just fucking wasn't.

Zip—or as he clearly wanted to be known now, Kyle—cowered on the floor between the Trans, his eyes silently begging for Alex to have mercy. And Alex felt herself shifting to a place of regret. Her eyes traveled his injuries new and old, ending with the blood matting the side of his head where she'd just pummeled him. Leviathans did not bleed. They did not sustain injuries. They had super strength. And yet there he was, battered and bruised, not to mention feeble. He looked uncannily like a scared kid out of his element, half starved to death. Maybe because that's what he was.

"…How are you bleeding right now?" Alex asked softly.

He swallowed, and from the look on his face, it could almost be said he was reliving something traumatic. "Crowley… experimented on me," he admitted shamefacedly. Features softening from surprise, Alex again felt herself gaping. Crowley. That motherfucker. Linda apparently already knew about the experimenting and nodded compassionately. "I don't know how, but… I guess I'm human now," Zip managed. He looked lost and afraid. "I bleed. I scar." His volume fell to almost inaudible, like he was about to cry. "Things hurt me."

For a minute, there was a strange silence in which Alex realized she actually did believe him. And more than that, she felt shockingly sorry for him. How did he always have a way of making her feel that way, even after all the stunts he'd pulled?

Witnessing the tense look between the two, Linda proved herself very astute. "…I take it you two know each other?"

Alex's cryptic eyes were still locked with the Leviathan's. "You could say that."

There was a sad, brave, regretful smile that could have almost been a guilty grimace. "She has every reason to hate me, Mrs. Tran," Zip or Kyle or whoever the hell he was murmured valiantly.

'Hate' wasn't it. Distrust, bitterness, awkwardness, regret, aversion yes. But hate… no.

Riled up by this unexpected development, Alex cast a cagey look around at the basement, which increasingly reminded her of one of the Saw movie sets. "Look—we need to get outta here," she said, spotting then grabbing up her flashlight and blade. "This place gives me the creeps, and you need medical attention." She indicated Linda, who was joining Kevin in helping Kyle stand.

There was a surprisingly cynically playful smirk from Kevin's mom. "That's not all I need—but I'll settle for that plus a shower, room service, and about a gallon of vodka to start."

Bobby chuckled even as Alex was too caught off guard by the brass to reply straight away. "Dunno 'bout room service, but we can get you set with the shower and booze for sure, ma'am."

In response, he got a look that was both joking and testy. "Ma'am's what they call old ladies. Mrs. Tran is fine."

Bobby nodded, oddly a little flustered by the correction.

Meanwhile, Alex was contemplating the blonde who stood woozily with both the Trans help on either side of him. He apparently had no pride and thought his fate was sealed—he was broken where he'd previously been arrogant and prideful, and he resorted to begging Alex openly as tears swam in his eyes and his mouth worked oddly: "Please, don't leave me alone—I don't have anything or anyone."

Beside him, Linda was spitfire in the way she instantly reassured him. "Oh I'm not going anywhere without you, sweetie, don't you even worry."

That was as much a promise to him as it was a message to Alex and Bobby. Making a decision fast, Alex decided to draw a line in the sand and let Crowley's latest victim make his choice. Resolute, Alex's jaw tightened as she held herself a little stronger. "If you come with us, it'll be as a prisoner until further notice."

Linda's face registered disagreement. "Alex—" Kevin protested.

Alex held up a hand. If they knew the full story, maybe they'd understand. But now wasn't the time. "Those are my terms." She looked at the one who had a choice to make.

Zip—who would from here on out be known as Kyle—thought it through sadly then nodded grimly, swallowing down through a sick expression. "I accept," he said, then meekly allowed a mistrustful Alex to ziptie his wrists.

Linda wasn't thrilled about it, but also proved herself wise enough to reserve judgement until she knew more. Hand in hand, Kevin led his mom out of her prison and into the free world once more.

---

Later

In the front seat beside Bobby as the RV drove down a quiet Kansas highway, Alex checked her phone for probably the tenth time that hour. Still no word from Cas or Sam and no replies to her texts and calls. She let out a tense breath and scanned the dark highway ahead in listless anxiety. Just breathe, she told herself. Don't panic yet.

The group was currently about an hour from the bunker and everyone but herself and Bobby had fallen asleep at this point. Even Kyle. Turning her head to eye the passengers behind them briefly (the Trans on the tiny built-in couch and the former Leviathan restrained and sitting awkwardly while sleeping further to the back) Alex had to admit that rest sounded good. And after the hectic last few days, she really needed it too. Shifting because her back was getting sore, she wearily sighed again, trying to wrap her brain around all the new developments.

They'd been on the road a few hours now, and the time had provided a chance to put some pieces of the puzzle together. While wolfing down copious amounts of fast food, Linda and Kyle recounted their time as Crowley's prisoners, explaining that they had been captured at separate times and bonded once they realized they had Kevin in common. Linda had done her best to support and comfort Kyle in between his torture sessions since they shared a cell at one point. When Crowley had disappeared, apparently the demons in the mental hospital had become trapped there by some sort of spellwork. Linda and Kyle had managed to escape their confinement from a room on the third floor but had eventually been pushed down into the basement. While attempts to break out of the hospital proved unsuccessful, Linda had insisted Kevin would come for them eventually and that had kept their hope alive.

While they bided their time, they hid in the basement and survived on a diet of rats and the few remaining stale dry goods Kyle bravely stole from the old kitchen cupboards— he had had found out how to use the air duct system to sneak around the hospital and used that to procure items and spy on their captors. At times the demons seemed to tire of the cease-fire and tried to attack Linda and Kyle, but the two hostages had miraculously held the enemy off each time—just not without being injured in the process consistently. It really did sound like they'd looked out for each other, and not only that, become friends. It also sounded like Kyle had truthfully shared his personal history with Linda—mostly. He'd left out the more damning and problematic things, only vaguely alluding to the fact that he had regrets.

All this information had been disclosed and then Kevin and Alex helped patch Linda and Kyle up after they ate. Reluctant and wary of the ex-Leviathan, Alex had given Kyle a wide berth and let Kevin be the one who helped him. But she stayed watchful and had to admit: Kyle's demeanor was definitely very different. Alex guessed that losing your identity by being forced to be a different species could do that to a guy. He was contrite and humble and depressed, not to mention a little skittish where before he'd been audacious, immature, and egotistical. He had apologized quietly again for 'everything that happened, and all the things I did wrong,' to her. She'd made no reply, because she had no idea what to say.

She still didn't. And she was currently second guessing her decision to bring him to the bunker as a prisoner. To what end? He couldn't stay there forever, and she didn't want to have him there, prisoner or otherwise. Were the Trans going to try to talk her out of that decision? Would they let him go without consulting with her first? She guessed she'd have to give it a little while then revisit how to proceed—but in the meantime make sure that his restraints were really, really good. Distantly, she worried about what Cas would have to say about all this.

The growingly-familiar sensation of a tightening abdomen distracted her away from those thoughts and Alex looked down at her stomach, running her palm across the swell thoughtfully. She wanted to take off into the night in search of her brother and husband, and probably would have under any other circumstance, but something was telling her to bide her time and err on the side of forethought. Being pregnant made her a lot more willing to be cautious and deliberate… invincible-ish or not.

Turning her head and resting her cheek against upholstery, Alex watched shadowy trees lit by moonlight pass in a steady pattern as her mind tiredly wandered down the aisles of all her worries, fears, and dilemmas. Her eyes felt heavier and heavier as her thoughts grew less and less distinct. Eventually, the world faded away as slumber called her name.

She descended into the dreamscape slowly, warming like she were laying in the sun. Light surrounded her as she floated, suspended somewhere without gravity. At first the heat was blissful, growing more and more pleasant as it increased… but then it was abruptly too hot, and quickly afterward alarmingly unbearable—to the point that Alex began to panic. Gasping in a deep breath by instinct, she choked down what felt like lava. She fully lost it and screamed, clawing through what she now realized was orange magma that surrounded her on all sides. Her body, which had been floating softly a moment before, began to swirl as if in a riptide, tumbling around wildly, rendering her a complete victim to the experience. What way was up? What way was down?! Help me! Her mind screamed.

Just when Alex thought she was truly dead, her head broke the surface of what should have already melted her apart. What she saw above the churning magma was truly petrifying. The world was on fire, and so was she. Stinging embers floated through the air like profane snow, peppering her already-burning skin with more small impacts of pain. A rocky, harsh shore was close by, offering an escape from the lava—but there were suddenly wicked hands like vices on her ankles, pulling her down as she desperately flailed in the lake of fire. Her weak voice screamed for help that would not come. All around a sinister chuckle echoed: Crowley's disembodied voice. It mocked her, promising endless pain and misery.

And then on the shore, a man in a beige trench coat materialized. Emanating from him was a fiercely calm blue energy that rapidly unfurled, transforming the scene. He strode toward her, walking across the fiery magma surface. Underneath his feet the scorching lava became peaceful blue depths and above him a smoldering sky transformed into quiet dark cobalt pinpricked by serene, sparkling stars.

The man reached down for her hand, and even as she reached back and their hands touched, cool relief surged down into her. She could breathe again, the pain evaporated. The vices holding her down dissolved, and Castiel pulled her up to her feet onto the surface of what had become calm, glassy waters. No fire remained anywhere—the scene was now a tranquil wood surrounding a serene lake. Crickets chirped and frogs called. A crescent moon hung in the indigo velvet sky. The breeze was cool and pleasant.

Confused, Alex's hands remained clamped onto Cas's forearms for fear of falling into the translucent water they stood on. Her mind raced to make sense of what was happening. Dreams had a certain obscurity to them—a softness and blur to the edges. The Hell nightmares always felt intensely real—but an appearance by Cas had never happened, and to take in the angel's striking features and presence—so clear and vivid—a new hope sparked to life inside. Her voice fell to a whisper as her eyes searched his unmistakable blues. "…Are you real?"

Her heart leapt as he nodded and touched her face with pained compassion. "Yes I am." And she could feel it somewhere deeper than deep, too.

A relieved grin broke across her face—this meant he and Sam had been successful! Elation soared. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, grabbing his face in her hands, grateful and relieved beyond words for a second. He seemed to feel the same. They embraced warmly, wrapping each other up as tightly as possible to make up in some small way for the time apart. The questions suddenly became a barrage in her mind and Alex yanked back, holding his face in her hands again. "Where are you? What's happened? Tell me everything! Is Sam okay?"

Cas held her eye contact and nodded, taking one of her hands in his. "He is. Our phones were destroyed in the course of capturing an angel—I know you must have been worried."

"Well yeah duh," Alex joked, but she was fully past it now thanks to this new development. "How the hell'd you two pull it off though?"

Tellingly, the angel hesitated, which caused immediate worry. "Well… essentially, a certain someone turned up very early today and offered help, refusing to be ignored."

For a minute, Alex hoped baselessly that it had been Dean. "…Who?" she asked warily.

The answer was not what she had expected to hear: "Meg." Even as Alex's eyes widened, Cas sighed self-consciously. "She was able to do what I couldn't. See halos, and therefore quickly lead us to an angel who I could take Grace from." He shook his head, as if even he couldn't believe what he was saying. "She even helped us capture the angel." Alex's eyebrows climbed high and Cas nodded grudgingly. "I know. I still feel suspicious but… she said that it's part of her amends—and wouldn't divulge anything further."

Astounded, Alex blinked a couple times. "Amends." What did that mean?

Cas visibly shared her misgivings. "I find it strange too, but… oddly enough, I believe her." He spread his hands humbly, indicating himself. "I'm sure in time, she'll clarify. But in any case, I'm an angel again. Wingless like the rest of them," he lamented, "but an angel all the same."

It truly was the news Alex had needed to hear. While intense relief was the number one emotion, Meg's involvement was puzzling. "Wow. I… don't know what to think, about Meg, but I'm really glad you have your Grace back," Alex muttered, turning this new development over in her mind a few times then looking at Cas again to try and gauge his insights. Instead, she immediately zeroed in on something being off with him. Concerned, her head tilted a bit as she studied his clear, growing reluctance. "What is it?" she asked gently. "What aren't you telling me?"

His eyes dodged away from hers briefly, giving away nervousness. Worry increasing, Alex's mind spun trying to figure out what could possibly be the matter now. She couldn't take more bad news.

When he spoke, it was slow, deliberate, and apprehensive. "During the course of this mission with Sam, I've come to realize something. Alex, as long as these angels are here on earth, we're not safe. Our son isn't safe. Metatron, Bartholomew, Ezekiel if that's really who that was, and others… they present a real and very present danger." Heart sinking, Alex already could predict where this was going. Cas took both of her hands softly, entreating her with his gaze to wait before spiraling. "Meg shared a piece of information with me—she's been doing reconnoissance on the angels. And it seems as though they're slowly beginning to congregate on a central point—Kansas." There was a jolt of fear like lightning, and Alex immediately assumed the worst even as Cas avoided jumping to any conclusions. "Now, that could be because the state is the centermost point of the United States… or it could be for other more foul reasons. But I fear for the safety of our child more than ever." So did she. This news was terrifying. With a heavy exhale against her shocked silence, Cas was visibly torn. "I need to find allies, I need to learn more… and quickly. But… how can I leave you at all, even for a second? Especially right now?" He gently touched her stomach, his hand mournful. "You're more and more further along all the time." With his tormented eyes searching hers out, he asked her to make the decision for them both. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

Alex felt emotions building, pinnacled by despair and dread. This was serious shit Cas was telling her, and it was worse than she'd thought. "Can I at least come with you?" she asked with weak hope.

Defeated, Cas visibly wished they were in different circumstances. "It would be too dangerous," he replied sadly, like it was killing a small part of himself to admit it. "I think you're safest in the bunker."

That's when Alex realized something else and felt herself nearing tears. She already knew that Metatron's spell prevented him and all the other angels from flying places—so he couldn't instantly come to her side like he could before. But something else had happened too: "You can't even come inside now, can you?"

His shoulders were sagged. "Not unless the angel warding is broken."

Alex gave a dismayed little moan and put her face into her hands, then shook her head and let her hands fall. She walked off a few steps in frustrated energy, only faintly cognizant of how she was walking on water. "I just want to be together, goddammit—" she griped through a choked up chest. She turned around, fully miserable as grief built up in her aching eyes. "That's all I've ever wanted!"

Cas came to her immediately, steadying her. "We are together," he said firmly, then grew gentler as her sad eyes begged him for hope. "And we will be, too."

Unable to summon optimism, Alex didn't bother to dash the tears spilling onto her cheeks away. "Why is everything always against us at every last fucking turn?" she pleaded, not even sure where she was going with this. "We've spent too long apart as it is!" Frustration gave way to some kind of absolute despair. All the negatives she spent a lot of time dutifully sidestepping were playing full-blast in her mind, refusing to be ignored. It left Alex feeling hopeless and alone, pessimistic as fuck. She imagined the future, and all she could conjure was hopelessness. "This isn't the kind of world I want to bring a child into," she whispered, fearing that Cas would die alone on this mission of his and that she'd pass on in birth of their child, leaving their son alone in this wretched, cursed land called earth.

Instead of plunging into hopelessness with her, Cas remained steadfast. "Which is why I'm determined to set some things right while we have the chance," he said, then gently stroked the back of his fingers against her tear tracks in turn. The simple touches calmed Alex, and she met his waiting gaze. Her storm of negative thoughts subsided. For a moment, nothing was said, but much was communicated. "My first allegiance will always be to you," Cas murmured finally. "To us. You know that." Yes. She did. Face etched with millennia of burden, Cas was resolute in the face of his misgivings. "This timing is some of the worst I can imagine. But doing what I can to correct my foolish mistakes can't be avoided any longer. Metatron, the angels… I had a hand in causing all this. I have to be part of ending it too. But I won't do it without your blessing."

In the beginning of knowing Cas, Alex had always wanted him to think for himself. Make his own decisions and choices. And he did now—but still involved her in his decision making because of what they meant to each other—the life they shared, the future they were working toward. The son they were about to have. And it might have been the hardest thing she'd ever done, but Alex already knew where she stood on this, as reluctant as she was to admit it. "As much as I don't wanna say it…" she shook her head, in disbelief at herself. She had to firmly guide her emotions to avoid breaking down and weeping openly at what she was about to say. As a result, her voice was the tiniest whisper. "…I think you have to do this, Cas."

She could tell he was relieved by her support, but only mildly so. What a complicated situation this was. Nodding, Cas was gentle in the face of her heartache. He hugged her closely, giving her a moment to shudder and allow the intensity of her emotions to pass. "I think so too," he murmured softly, then kissed the side of her head. "Give me a fortnight," he said against her hair. "I'll stay close enough to come to you within just a handful of hours. I'll find allies. I'll learn more." Alex nodded blankly, selfishly thinking about herself and how this time apart would feel. Sensing her drifting attention and weakening optimism, Cas drew back and sought her gaze emphatically. "We have to keep hope for the future."

He was right. But Alex couldn't lie and act like it would be easy. "I'll try."

The angel grew bleak. He studied her for a long, guilty moment. "You look so sad."

The callout, which couldn't really even be called that, made Alex feel guilty too. "I mean, I am." She breathed in deep, steeling herself and remembering that she wasn't the only one who hated this. They just didn't have a choice anymore. Crying about it wouldn't change anything. And she needed to be brave for both of them. Her hands found his and she rallied. "Of course I'm sad, you know?" She sniffed against the effect tears had left. Her angel had come from a specific realm, and that part of his identity would be with him forever. He had a place in this situation, no matter how hard they'd tried to act otherwise. "I wish it could be different. But, I know you can do this. And honestly…" She smiled through her fading tears, and it was very bittersweet indeed. "I think it's been a long time coming."

He smiled back with tender, sad eyes. "I do too."

"It's settled then," Alex said morosely, looking down at Cas's hands in hers as she hesitated. She needed to tell him her own difficult news now. But how did she even begin?

Cas knew her far too well at this point. "What is it?" he asked cautiously.

Clearing her throat and rubbing at the back of her neck briefly, Alex stalled. "Well… I have news too." She paused and wet her lips, starting with the safe stuff: "We found Linda. She's alive, and she's okay."

There was a pleasantly surprised broad smile. "What wonderful news! Kevin must be ecstatic."

"He is," Alex confirmed neutrally, her eyes dodging around nervously. "But Cas, we… didn't just find Linda." The angel's smile faded into a quizzical expression that grew mildly worried at Alex's fumbling. "There—well, there was also a certain Leviathan there with her. And he's like… well, he's human now or close enough, apparently."

Cas knew exactly who was being referenced and his eyes went wide. "What?"

Highly uncomfortable, Alex nodded and blabbed on about the facts of it with darting eyes and hands that mimed a little too much. "Yeah, I know. He uh, was captured while trying to save Kevin last year. Crowley started experimenting on him, and figured out how to make a Leviathan human, from the sounds of it." Cas was so shocked he could say nothing. So the explanation continued. "We took him prisoner for now because I just didn't know what else to do." The shock on her husband's face turned to resistance and Alex quickly added on. "I know exactly how fucked up this is, but Kevin views him as a friend. He calls him Kyle. And 'Kyle' helped look out for Linda. They kept each other alive. And after hearing details… I mean, I dunno what his angle was or if there even was one, but Linda wouldn't have made it without him there, so…"

She trailed off. There was a long silence in which Alex wondered what Cas would say and how he would react. When he finally did speak, it was as if he couldn't believe his own words. "So demons and Leviathan have become our allies."

Surprised at the observation then quickly realizing he had a point, it was Alex's turn to be a little stunned. "Yeah, guess they have." She waited for him to say something else or indicate an insecurity, but nothing further came—he remained silent in unsettled thought. Uncertainly, Alex forged ahead. "And just so we're clear, you don't have to worry about… anything like that."

He shook his head in distraction, brow furrowed in thought. "No, I know. I just… he's dangerous." He seemed to find small, dark humor in his own statement right after he said it. "But then again, so was I at a time." He looked into her eyes solidly and even though he was visibly disquieted, there was tenderness and faith there. "I trust your judgment around this, Alex."

Relief she hadn't expected allowed the tension in her body to relax. Thank god. She couldn't take another source of contention right now. "Thank you." He nodded and reached for her. She readily settled into his arms with her cheek pressed into the front of his shoulder, trying to memorize the feeling of being close to him.

"I do want to get back to you even more urgently now though," Cas admitted mournfully, his deep voice rumbling through her.

"I know," Alex agreed, not even sure what she would do with herself at the bunker with no brothers, no mission, no Cas… just Kevin and his mom (who so far was side-eying Alex for her attitude around Kyle), Bobby, an ex-Leviathan prisoner, and all the endless anxiety…

"Sam's already headed back," Cas mentioned as if he knew where her mind would be going, "and I've healed him of his ailments from the trials."

A swell of gratitude overtook Alex's heart and blessed relief she'd needed desperately sank in again. That was good news she'd fervently needed to hear. "Thank you so much," she whispered, then hugged even closer to Cas before pulling back to look him in the eyes hopefully. "Did he open up to you at all?"

Thoughtful deliberation rested on the angel's face. "There were one or two brief conversations, yes." He sounded somber. "I get the impression that your brother isn't sure how he feels about everything that happened."

Compassion and heartache alike hit her to hear that. "Understandable."

"I asked him to stop by our apartment and get our belongings so you don't have to do it," Cas added. "I'm sure you're missing all your things."

Surprised because she had been fretting over how to get their few worldly possessions over the the bunker, Alex softened further. "So thoughtful," she said admiringly. Then she grew hesitant. "You—you haven't heard from Dean, have you?" She hoped so hard he would say yes.

"No."

Dissatisfied and irritated, Alex's shoulders sagged. "Me either." Her eyes traveled into the distance, skirting the peaceful woodsy scene. "I'm really worried, Cas. Not just about him, either." Jamie's face floated across her mind's eye.

Cas joined her in looking at the treeline in apprehensive worry. "I'm worried too." Their gazes met again. "But speaking of, I do have one last thing to attend to before I begin my mission in earnest." Cas stood taller, a little smile that felt distinctly proud growing. "I'm going to see Dean, and heal Jamie."

Alex's heartbeat quickened with hope and confusion alike. "Wait, but how do you know where he is?"

"I don't yet… but I'm sure he'll tell me his location when I visit him in a dream with the good news."

As angry as she'd felt at Dean, as fucked up as it all still was… witnessing Cas's pure intentions and good heart and dogged loyalty no matter what made her feelings for him surge. Maybe when Jamie was healed she would be able to talk some sense into Dean and the Winchester family would reunite and heal eventually. Alex's heart felt too much in that moment. What would they do without Castiel? "I just love you so much," she whispered through a suddenly constricted throat. Emotions flooded her, heart, body and soul and she slipped into his arms again, the place where she knew peace best. Her eyes shut and all she could do was reflect on the road here… and the shared path ahead. "Our son is so lucky to have you as a father."

Around her, his arms were a shield and a support, and they tightened when she mentioned their child. "I cannot wait to be with you again," he whispered.

She nodded, blinking back tears. "I know. Me too."

Cas's arms reassured her. "Soon, Beloved. I promise." He pulled apart from her, but not far—almost nose to nose. His voice was husky and warm, and his eyes held galaxies of love inside them. "Until then, we'll have dreams to keep us together."

Alex smiled softly, her eyes traveling his close features affectionately. "Just like old times," she reminisced, thinking of their dreamworld encounters in the years past. Her eyes slipped closed as their lips pressed softly together in a kiss that lingered. In that kiss, their goodbye was said without words. "Come back to me with good news," Alex entreated in a whisper against his mouth when they parted.

"I will," he promised softly, his warm breaths hitting her lips. "Until then…" He cupped the side of her face gently in a hand, and his voice carried a level of commanding that was from another lifetime. "Rest."

The word was honey, hitting her like a high from another dimension. Everything around Alex smudged away into obscurity and peaceful nothingness, leaving her to settle into the tranquility of a deep sleep devoid of nightmares.

---

The Next Day

It was early morning still, leaving the grass tipped in dew and the summertime temperatures bearable—for now.

Hovering anxiously on the gravel in front of the bunker where everyone parked their cars, Alex bit her thumbnail absently. Sam had called from a new phone a couple hours ago and given her an ETA of basically pretty much right now. The call had been pretty brief, and a million questions were still swarming Alex's mind. When she could lay eyes on her brother and have at least one member of her family safely at her side, she'd finally be able to breathe a little easier. He'd been happy to hear about Linda, and very surprised and hesitant about Kyle, who was chained up in the basement for now. Other than that, it was hard to tell how he was doing emotionally.

Ears catching what sounded like a vehicle driving on gravel, Alex went still and straightened, listening harder with a pinched frown. A couple more seconds went by and the sound grew louder. Relieved, Alex's breaths came faster in anticipation, then a grin split her face and crinkled her eyes as Sam's Land Cruiser appeared around the bend, slowly lumbering up the driveway. Thank goodness he'd made it back safely.

He'd barely finished parking and getting out of the car when his very eager twin had dashed over and enveloped him into a big hug. His familiar smell and feel confirmed to her that it was really him and she shut her eyes against his shirt, suddenly emotional. What a relief. He squeezed her back tightly.

She finally pulled back and looked up at him, momentarily feeling like everything was okay. His color was back, and he stood taller than he had before—he had his strength again. It healed a small part of Alex to see him well once more. "Hey you," she greeted softly, two words that masked over the hundreds of emotions inspired by seeing him again.

He ruffled her hair in a way that communicated his own feelings. "Hey yourself," he replied affectionately, and the two shared a tender smile that transcended everything they'd faced recently. Sam then cleared his throat and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Got pretty much everything I could fit besides furniture."

Glancing in through the windows, Alex saw stuff she recognized cram packed into every spare inch of the Toyota. She smiled again—for a second she'd forgotten all about the stuff he was bringing back. "Thanks, Sammy." But she was most thankful for his presence and his health. It was hard to stop staring at him and taking in how well he looked now. "You look so much better." Or maybe she hadn't fully realized how sick he had appeared before.

Either way, Sam smiled, but it wasn't without a bittersweet undercurrent. "Yeah, I feel back to my old self." He shook his head and sighed, careworn and thankful and possibly even a little guilty. "Good old Cas."

Studying her brother and noting that he had a guard up and was acting a little off, Alex decided to ease into the information gathering and see what Sam was okay with talking about at this point. "He told me what happened…" she ventured carefully.

"The Meg thing?" Sam asked, then made a face like he was still in disbelief too. "Yeah, that was pretty unexpected but as much as I hate to admit it… she really did save our asses." He shook his head. "Weird, right?" Alex nodded silently. It was weird. But she really wanted to talk about something else. Just as she was debating how to broach the subject gracefully, her brother did it for her: "So you uh—you heard from him at all?"

He didn't need to clarify that he was asking about Dean. "Not a peep."

Sam seemed to have been preparing himself for that, and he breathed out heavily through his nostrils. "Me either." He pinched the bridge of his nose briefly, shaking his head the entire time. "I can't stop thinking about what he did," he admitted. "I don't even know how to process all this, Alex. And I'm sorry to go MIA after. Just couldn't deal."

It did make her feel a little better to know he had at least considered her feelings. "I get it," she assured. "Trust me… I get it."

Sam's tense, contrite expression stayed put. "Yeah, but running off like that… I know you were worried. I didn't mean to leave you alone with your feelings like that."

Alex shrugged. It had sucked but she didn't want to whine about it. "I'm a big girl, I can deal."

"I know, of course I know that—" Sam replied quickly, then took a second to word himself meaningfully. "But… I made it harder on you, and I'm sorry." It meant a lot, and Alex hoped her little nod conveyed that she accepted it and was thankful for his consideration. One of Sam's trademark shamefaced expressions followed. "I'm really good at ditching out on people when they need me most, huh."

His instinct to self-flay was as old as they were, and as a result, Alex was instantly frustrated and empathetic all at once. "Stop," she reprimanded gently, trying to convey how serious she was. "It's okay to need to need space," she insisted. "…I was just worried about you."

She received a downcast, feeble smile in response. "I've been worried about you too," Sam said softly, sounding faintly choked up. Dissatisfied, he turned his back to the car and leaned there, taking a minute. He rubbed his face and gave a vaguely aggravated sound. "Thinking back, I feel really stupid," he finally said as Alex leaned against the car too. "The signs that something was going on were there, you know? But I had no idea I was possessed. Zero." He sought her sidelong gaze with wounded eyes. "I mean do you know how violated I feel? How betrayed?"

"I could wager a pretty good guess," Alex murmured, distressed on his behalf. He wasn't the only one stuck in the past when it came to this. Hindsight had left Alex very bitter and caused her to exhale harshly. "I should have put it together," she lamented, a thought that wouldn't leave her alone since finding out. "We knew something wasn't right. And I think he knew we'd figure it all out if he let us be in proximity. So that's why he made me and Cas leave the bunker." To divide the twins. To guard his secret. Having made that connection the day everything came to light, the thought of it still made Alex irrationally angry and sickened. "It's so fucked up," she muttered darkly, kicking at gravel absently with the toe of her shoe.

Beside her, Sam was similarly disgusted. "I've been angry at him before Alex. But never like this." He gazed into middle distance unseeingly as disappointment and resentment and confusion too cast shadows on his face. "I… I just can't believe him. The danger he put us all in. What almost happened."

The moment when the angel wearing her brother attacked her ran across her mind's eye yet again. Betrayed was putting it mildly, to know Dean was behind that in a way. "I know," Alex acknowledged quietly. However, she'd made at least one conclusion as she'd processed this over the past few days. And it was a thought she shared with cynical chagrin: "Wouldn't be the first time he did insane shit to save family though, would it?"

That comment earned her a sidelong flicker of the eyes. "Yeah but he'd never forgive me if the shoe were on the other foot," Sam pointed out. "And he just wants us to give him a hall pass or something?" He let a long, troubled silence hang before he gave a weary exhale. "I'm so tired of this crap, Alex. I love him, I do, but… this just isn't right." She nodded, because she understood. That was how she felt, too. Another tense silence commenced, broken only when Sam asked a question Alex hadn't predicted: "What would you have done? If it had been you who had to make that call."

Startled at the question, Alex looked at him directly, wondering if he were actually really asking that. Apparently, he was. And an immediate answer didn't come.

What would I have done if Ezekiel offered to save Sam and it was me who had to say yes or no?

She mulled it over carefully. At the time, she had thought he was dying and of course she'd been desperate for a way to save him—but she remembered also wondering if this was finally 'it.' Thinking back to that day was uncomfortable and traumatic, moreso than she might have predicted. And Alex caught herself remembering something very tragic indeed that made her view things in slightly altered light. "When we were in that hospital…" she murmured, remembering the unforgettable look on Dean's face, "He said it should have been him in that bed instead of you." Sam's reaction to that news was a cocktail of heartache, dejection, and chagrin. Alex breathed out sadly, shaking her head faintly. Dean Winchester, the man who would do anything to save the people he loved. Dean Winchester, the guy who accepted becoming your enemy if it meant you survived. Dean Winchester, who would readily die for his family in their place—no questions asked.

Thinking out loud, Alex's eyes were ambiguous and distant. Her heart ached with love and pain and sorrow all at the same time. "The more I think about it Sam, the more I'm not surprised about what he did anymore," she admitted, not just to her twin but also to herself. "Just disappointed and fucking sad."

Sam received her comment with conflict on his expression.

Alex chewed over his original question for a couple more very serious beats. "I wanna say I wouldnt've done what Dean did but…" her features took on a rueful, helpless little expression as she really tried to imagine herself in his shoes during that moment. "Hell," she muttered, shaking her head at herself. "Maybe I would have." The brother and sister's gazes met. Alex's eyes afraid to be judged, Sam's stirred and disturbed at the same time. The emotion of it yet again stunned Alex, and her voice fell to soft, whispery volume. She literally couldn't imagine existence without Sam here. And she couldn't do that with Dean, either. "You guys are my weakness," she admitted, eyes abruptly stinging. "One of the only things I have in this goddamn world. So I guess I know why he wanted to hold onto you. I just wish he hadn't lied about everything like he did." Sam remained silent, unsure of how to respond. So Alex decided to make another confession she'd never aired to anyone. "Remember when Dean died and you were trying everything to bring him back?"

Cautious about the subject switch, Sam's brows furrowed marginally. "Yeah…"

A bitter smile that was more like a long wince tensed Alex's features. "Well, I was days away from breaking my promise not to mess with death. Coming to find you. Or just bringing him back myself. Morals and promises be damned… I just wanted my fucking family back." Going back to her mindset at the time was hard and painful. She had been a different person then—all of them had—but one thing had never changed for the Winchester family: their intrinsic and often dysfunctional need for each other. It had always been there, and probably always would be. There was another brief, charged silence. "I'm not trying to justify what he did," Alex explained indecisively. "I'm just saying…" she trailed off, because she didn't even know how to explain what she was thinking and feeling. "I dunno what I'm saying."

It was a very lonely, powerless, frightening place to be. Dean wasn't perfect, and his two siblings knew that best out of everyone else in the world. They also knew the depths of his love, loyalty, and devotion—they knew how impossible it was to imagine life without the man no one could ever replace for them. But this situation had caused such a fracture in trust and such a rift in the way forward. By god, it hurt. And lost, powerless, clueless as to how to deal, Alex bowed her head as the emotion became too much to hold. Silent, hot tears leaked out and ran down her cheeks. This was truly tearing her apart inside.

Sam pulled her into a hug even as she covered her face with a hand and shook her head. "How do we move past this?" his forlorn voice asked, and he sounded very small and lost. Like he was crying too. "How do we go forward without him here?"

Her most honest, broken answer? "I don't know."

They were quiet for a long moment, both wracked by heartbreak and fear. And then Sam made a confession that caused Alex to pull back and look at him questioningly. "I can't lose you too, Alex," he said, voice barely audible. "And I'm terrified about what's next." His eyes glistened and his mouth worked as he tried not to crumble. He gave a weak airy laugh that was more cynical and defeated than anything else. "I guess I can understand a little bit more about Dean's mindset than I thought."

A warm breeze stirred the surrounding landscape and Alex studied her brother with a knotted stomach. To know he was scared of what she was scared of too terrified her. She shook her head hard, sniffing and setting her face with gritted determination. "I'm not dying in childbirth, Sam." She sounded almost angry to herself. "I'm not."

He made no reply, but he was obviously not convinced. Alex could clearly see he was petrified of the worst case scenario heading their way. And so was she, but she absolutely couldn'thandle the stress of contemplating all the dark possibilities. The only thing she could do right now was keep going.

Yanking open one of the car doors, Alex got to work unloading so that she couldn't ruminate over all of her growing anxiety and fear. Sam assisted her quietly, and neither of them spoke about anything of real consequence for some time.

---

Meanwhile
Stormont Vail Hospital
Topeka, Kansas

Dean's eyes went to the doorway of the hospital room several times a minute in anxious anticipation of seeing Cas. Seated beside a comatose Jamie whose condition hadn't changed since being admitted, his knee jumped nonstop and his hands rubbed together over and over. He hadn't expected to see the angel possibly ever again, nevermind in dreams. But last night when Dean had finally nodded off in his chair after another restless night, Cas had come to him with the good news—he was an angel once more, and was on his way to heal James. Relieved beyond understanding, impatient, and nervous was putting it mildly… Dean was beside himself with expectation. He cursed that Metatron douchebag endlessly for fucking the angels up on two counts: the exile from Heaven, plus the wingless stuff. Being without the ability to zap around, Cas was apparently driving here which Dean worried about. Also, it was taking too damn long.

He suddenly stood, unable to find any semblance of calm or regulation. Dean began to stride a familiar little back-and-forth path on the stark hospital floor. It was kind of surprising that he hadn't worn a trench in the floor at this point… that's how much pacing he'd been doing. For the past however many days spent fretting at James' side, the oldest Winchester had been given quite a lot of time to think, regret, and beat himself up over everything wrong he'd done. And not just the recent stuff. Everything had been fodder for his self-loathing. Everyone he'd ever let down had haunted him in the waking and sleeping hours both. His brother and sister stayed with him without ceasing, causing turmoil beyond belief. But his greatest stress of all, the thing killing him… Abaddon and her cruel taunting. The one thing she had said that was driving the knife of terrified worry deeper all the time:

"Why would she not tell you about having the baby, do you think?"

Eyes on Jamie's still face yet again as he paced and dragged a stressed hand across his mouth, Dean silently begged her to wake up, be okay, and answer the question that hounded him relentlessly: Was Abaddon lying and playing on his emotions? Or was there really a baby girl out there that belonged to the two of them? Whenever Cas got here and got James back on her feet, Dean figured he'd finally find out once and for all.

He sat down again, indecisive and uncomfortable no matter what he did. All he could do was hope that if there was a kid, she wasn't currently in Abaddon's clutches… or even worse, dead. The anxiety over the unknown was enough to crack Dean in half and keep him pacing the floor for hours a day. He barely ate, he slept like shit, he felt more alone than he ever had. Maybe that was a contributing factor to the insane shit he kept finding himself doing…

Over the sleeve of his button down shirt, Dean rubbed a palm absently against the irritated skin of his forearm. If only his family could see him now, he thought cynically as his palm felt the raised, welted red skin obscured beneath fabric.

Seriously, where's your head at, Winchester?

His own actions were bothering him, and he couldn't pinpoint the place in time when he had become the pariah he now fully understood himself to be. Tricking and lying to Sam, working with Crowley and Meg, now this: the Mark of Cain.

You are one crazy son of a bitch, he told himself ruefully, once again hoping this insane plan of his would work out in his favor.

A few days ago when Crowley's little human blood addict crackhead self had shown up here claiming to have had an almost-fatal encounter with Abaddon (reportedly back in her original form), Dean had told the useless demon to scram and 'better you than me.' But then the King of Hell (whose reign was in serious jeopardy) had told Dean about the only way to kill the redhead bitch: a weapon called the First Blade, whose wielder had to have the Mark of Cain to access its primeval power. Working with Crowley in any small way felt wrong and seedy, but it looked like another the-ends-justify-the-means situation to Dean, who was pretty short on options these days. Crowley was currently searching the Mariana Trench in the ocean for the Blade, which was where a bitter Cain had thrown it ages ago. What exactly came next was still a mystery. But Dean planned to plunge the sharp end of that weapon into Abaddon's heart and watch her die.

Dean reasoned that this could be his very controversial and wayward path to redemption. He could wipe Abaddon off the map and who knows, maybe the Blade could kill other asshats too. Like Metatron. And Ezekiel. The thought of that fucker—what he had done to them all culminating in the attempt on Alex—brought Dean's blood to a shockingly fast boil, murderous rage springing up to match the sudden pounding of his heart. The urge to harm someone or something was unspeakably intense, taking over his mind. He gripped his fists so tightly he thought he might break his own bones.

Cain, a vagabond demon living in solitude who really hadn't wanted to be disturbed, warned Dean repeatedly about these side effects. The anger. The fury. The loss of control. Dean shut his eyes and exhaled shakily, slowing his heart rate with deep breathing and willing his muscles to relax. Consequences be damned, he could handle this. He had to. His eyes opened a long moment later when his heartbeat was normal again, and he studied Jamie's pale face and arms riddled with IVs and tubes. The heavy veil of sadness descended once more.

Ironically, Cain hadn't been willing to listen to Dean or even consider giving him the Mark until the two of them had found common ground: Cain had lost the love of his life to Abaddon's wicked hand. And Dean almost had, too. Something about the story Dean shared, complete with his potential child out there somewhere, had moved Cain and changed his mind, motivating him to agree to transfer the ancient Mark to Dean. It hadn't been done without many warnings. All of which Dean hadn't wanted or needed to hear. Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was ill-advised. But it didn't fucking matter.

Dean reached out and took Jamie's cool hand in his warmer one. All he wanted was to see her smile and laugh again—for her to have the life she deserved back without fear of Hell hanging over her head. Maybe she wouldn't even wanna be with him anymore after all this shit—but that didn't matter to Dean. Even if she woke up and hated him for whatever reason, he'd accept that. He'd made this woman a promise to save her, and failed. He wasn't done trying yet.

A conversation they'd had not that long before she died floated across his mind. They'd been at Henry Winchester's graveside in some obscure plot of land somewhere in Kansas. Jamie had finally yet reluctantly agreed that night to let Dean try and save her. But she hadn't been confident in the prospects, and he knew then what he knew now: she'd agreed simply to appease him. She had never truly believed she could be saved. It hurt to think about how hopeless she was in that regard.

"I need you to promise me if you can't save me before time's up... you'll let me go Dean."

The way she'd said it, the look in her eyes, the vulnerability she'd allowed all signaled to him how much she wanted his honest vow. And he hadn't been able to reply right away, because his first instinct was to say no way in hell would he promise that. But then he'd nodded and tamped down his real reaction. "Deal," he'd lied. Because he would never agree to that. Not easily, anyway. And at the time, he hadn't thought he would actually lose her.

And then he had.

It still hurt so bad it could bring him to tears if he let himself feel those feelings. And as far as he was concerned, they weren't outta the woods yet at all. What if being possessed by Abaddon had done something to her that Cas couldn't fix? The fear of losing her again made his throat tight and lungs shallow. That, and she was the one person who could tell him the truth about if they had a daughter or not. Until Dean knew once and for all if there were or weren't a kid, he wouldn't be able to truly rest.

If their daughter was real like Abaddon had said, that baby girl wasn't safe out there without Dean there to protect her. The thought of an innocent kid—his innocent kid—getting snatched up by Abaddon's talons was the stuff of absolute bone-chilling nightmares, and Dean felt so powerless and guilty and frustrated. Like on a whole new level he'd never comprehended before. He began rubbing at the Mark again, more and more upset by the second.

"Hello, Dean," came a familiar voice.

Surprised and quickly overcome, Dean shot to his feet, momentarily without ability to speak. It was like a moment out of a dream: it was Cas, and Cas looked like Cas again. He was inexplicably wearing a trench coat very similar to his old one, and a suit underneath with a blue tie. Something about that damn outfit made tears of relief and hope spring to Dean's eyes and he was honestly too broken to brush them away. Help was finally here.

"Cas, you made it!" he breathed through the first smile he'd smiled in days. Even as he went to meet Cas, the angel moved toward him too. The men embraced fiercely and when they drew back, Dean wished he knew how to say 'thanks for not giving up on me,' because he understood unequivocally that Cas was still choosing to be his friend despite all the bullshit. So Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder a couple times, hoping it portrayed the touched gratitude that he was feeling.

From the look in the angel's eyes, he understood what Dean was silently communicating, and imparted his own quiet sentiments: empathy, pain, and sorrow. "I apologize for the wait," he said meaningfully, then looked to the hospital bed before glancing at Dean with worry. "How is she?"

Dean followed the angel's gaze, his heart pulling like it did every time to see Jamie looking small and near death in that soulless hospital bed. He just wanted her back. "Nothing doing," he replied grimly. "Doctors don't know what to make of what's going on with her." A sudden typhoon of dark anger came over him from nowhere, causing him to snap. "It's such fucking bullshit," he growled, clenching his fists to keep from lashing out physically. The burst of aggression was so overt that Cas immediately registered that something was off.

Dean forced the feelings away and gritted his teeth, trying to play it off and scramble for an excuse. "Sorry, Cas—tensions are high, you know?" That seemed to be enough of an explanation—for now anyway. With a questioning little flicker of the eyes at Dean, Cas left it alone and slowly approached the bedside, studying the blonde woman quietly for a moment before laying slow and deliberate fingers to her forehead. Dean watched, holding his breath without realizing it as Cas closed his eyes. Blue light flared underneath the angel's digits, then he opened his eyes and looked to Dean, who waited breathlessly. "She okay?" he asked in a whisper, trying not to panic that his girlfriend was still laying prone and silent.

Cas nodded yes. "She'll wake soon."

Dean's shoulders sagged with wretched relief and he could barely contain his emotion. It took him a second to form any kind of word whatsoever. "Thanks, Cas. Really." He could have fucking sobbed at this point… for multiple reasons. Hoping against hope that things might not be as bad as he knew they were, Dean hedged a second before getting the bravery to pose his next question. "I gotta ask, man… after everything, how the hell you still on my side?"

There was a bittersweet smile, and from it, Dean could see Cas felt a very complex way about the situation. However, for now, all he said was, "I'll always be on your side, Dean."

The kindness and comfort there restored some part of Dean's fractured soul. But it also made him pine even more deeply for the ones he shared a bloodline, childhood, and last name with. He hesitated to ask, because he was so afraid to hear that they hated and scorned him. But he had to know, because they were all he thought about outside of Jamie, Abaddon, and his maybe-child. "H-how's my brother and sister?"

Cas's eyes fell away and he deliberated thoughtfully for a moment. "I think they need some time before they're ready to reconnect. But I do know they love you very much." That was a very delicate, vague way to not give much of an answer… but Dean did understand Cas thought there was definite hope. And for now, that was more than enough. Apologetic, the angel sighed. "I don't mean to be rushed, but I have much to attend to."

He was leaving already. Immediately feeling a twinge of disappointment, Dean quickly made sure not to show it. He nodded resolutely. "Right. Of course." He wondered if Cas was returning to his brother and sister… he wondered how everything was going without him there. What if the family was better off without him? He assumed they would be, but finding out they actually were would crush him. Managing a feeble smile, Dean soldiered through his grief and minimized his sadness the best he could. "Stay safe out there, Cas."

Nodding graciously, Cas offered one more tentative, bittersweet smile. "You too, Dean. Until we meet again."

The angel turned and walked out, but not without a final lingering gaze and pause at the door. Once he was gone, Dean sat at Jamie's side again, searching for signs of her coming-to while wading through the muck of all his doubts and fears. "All right, sweetheart," he murmured, curling his fingers around her hand to hold on gingerly. "All you gotta do now is wake up and tell me what's going on." He gently caressed her hand, studying her face with a pinched expression. His adrenaline was beginning to pick up. "Do we have a kid, baby?" he whispered, choking up a little. "You gotta tell me."

He'd spent the entire time in Purgatory believing he was going to be a father, and not only that, but believing he could be a good one somehow too. Quit the life and get a proper respectable job, do the boring normal people stuff, hell maybe he'd even pay taxes and get into doing yard work. To a man who had lived a rollercoaster life of pain, loss, danger, and burden, the thought of settling down somewhere quiet to raise a family with the woman he loved had become something comparable to utopia. But maybe that was all the foolish dreams of a broken, damaged man. Because when James told him she miscarried, those dreams had shattered apart and left him feeling numb and lost. Today, he didn't know what to dream or imagine.

At that moment, he noticed a stirring. Jamie's finger twitched, then she inhaled more deeply than normal through her nose, then frowned and shifted slightly against her pillow with eyes still closed. "James? Jamie!" Dean was already on his feet, leaning over her and holding her arms as he hawkishly watched with bated breath, hoping against hope she was about to wake up. At that moment, her confused eyes opened and looked straight into his, and Dean let out a soft sound of wild relief. "Thank god," he managed in a hushed whisper, watching her frown groggily and grimace in discomfort—her disoriented eyes roamed the room, trying to make sense of what was happening. "You with me?" Dean asked, needing her to speak and confirm that she was herself.

Her ice blue eyes came back to his, and she managed to speak in a soft, raspy croak. "What happened, Dean?" she asked, visibly doing mental gymnastics. A weak hand pressed against her head briefly and she tried to push herself up to sit. "Last thing I remember, I was in Hell…"

It might take her a minute to get her bearings, that made total sense. Unspeakably reassured to see her up again, Dean steadied her the best he could and helped her sit up. "You're topside again, and I got you." Her clouded, confused eyes met his again and for a minute the pair took each other in. She seemed dazed and awed, maybe thinking she was hallucinating. "Feel okay?" Dean questioned softly, scanning over her with concern.

Jamie took a couple seconds to compute and reply. She was gaining some clarity back, and her voice began to strengthen too. "A little fuzzy on some details, but…" she trailed off and looked at him with a growing little quizzical, fond smile he hadn't expected. "Wait," she said with a surprisingly playful narrow of the eyes. "…Didn't you promise not to bring me back?"

Dean couldn't help the grin that popped onto his face, and instinctively reached out to cup her cheek with a calloused hand. "Guess some promises just ain't meant for keeping," he murmured huskily.

Jamie shook her head softly, eyes beginning to soften and relax. "Guess not," she murmured back, and Dean reached for her just as she reached for him. They hugged close for a second with tight gentleness, and Dean shut his eyes, burying his face into the side of her head.

"I never thought I'd see you again," she whispered, her joy suddenly deflating into deep emotion that was on the verge of tears. Her arms clamped on harder and she shuddered.

"I know," Dean whispered back, unable to have her close enough to him. "Me either." He could have held her like that all day, but there was no time for it. Pulling back regretfully, Dean's sobering expression was clue number one that things weren't good. "Jamie…" he started, not even sure how to bridge the subject.

She had tensed the second she saw his shifting demeanor, as if bracing herself for bad news. "What's wrong…?" she asked, visibly dreading his answer.

Dean studied her meticulously. He had an inkling that she still didn't have full possession of her memories. "You—you don't remember what happened with Abaddon?" he prompted carefully.

"Abaddon?" Jamie at first looked absolutely clueless, then frowned deeply and began to think. It visibly registered across her delicate features that she did remember. "Oh no…" she breathed softly as it began to come back. Her eyes went back and forth rapidly over invisible memories that seemed to strike her as more and more horrifying until with saucer-wide eyes she stopped and looked at him with a slack jaw and expression full of absolute terror. "Dean, oh my god—!" she managed raggedly, a shaking hand coming to rest in front of her mouth.

There was no being delicate anymore. Dean begged her outright: "Jamie, tell me the truth, please—did you have that baby? Is she still out there somewhere?"

He saw the answer on her face before she said it, and he was fucking floored. "I did," she admitted in a wretched whisper. "And she is." Jamie crushed both hands to her mouth in terror. "Oh god, and Abaddon knows where she is!"

Even as his mind spun, Dean was launching into go-mode. There was no other objective in his mind except to go find their daughter immediately. "Let's go, like right now," he urged, watching as Jamie moved with new purpose, pulling herself free from all her IVs and swinging weak legs over the side of the bed. "Maybe it's not too late," Dean hoped, automatically going to stand beside Jamie and help her out of the bed, supporting her as she clumsily took a few first steps. Walking was a bit tricky from laying still all those days.

Jamie looked half crazed. "I thought it'd keep her safe, I thought I got her away from all this!" she lamented, beginning to breathe crazy and lose her grip on reality.

"Hey, hey—hey." Dean stopped them in the middle of the room and squared up with her, taking hold of her on either arm, silently commanding her to meet his gaze. "Let's go get our kid, James," he said, voice trembling as it became realer and realer. Jamie's gaze was full of dread, and Dean rallied for them both. "Listen to me, it ain't over till it's over, so don't you lose your shit yet, hear me?"

She nodded unevenly, despite the fear for the worst. "O-okay," she managed, wild eyes moving all around in rapid, distressed thoughts. "The family that adopted her lives in New Hampshire, it's like a twenty hour drive at least."

It was all happening so fast that Dean could barely keep up emotionally. "All right, let's put pedal to the metal." He resumed supporting Jamie, and grabbed her pile of street clothes from where they'd been left as the couple exited the room.

Slipping out of the hospital and getting into the Impala was a flurry, and before either of them knew it, they were whizzing down a state highway at 90 miles an hour. It was then as dashed road paint blurred to solid lines on either side of them that Dean started thinking more clearly and finding questions to ask. He was both eager and terrified to know everything. Eyes on the road ahead and knuckles white on the steering wheel, his voice faltered. "Does this—does this kid have a name?" he asked softly.

The fear and dismay that had been holding steady on Jamie's face melted as she thought about their baby girl, softening into a pained smile that came through a sheen of tears. She seemed both tenderly proud and deeply afraid. "Her name is Rose," she said in the softest voice, looking into his brief glance in a way she never quite had before. He realized why that was when she said what she did next: "And she has her daddy's eyes."

That was the moment it really, actually, fully hit him: I'm a dad. I have a daughter. I have a baby girl out there somewhere. And her name is Rose.

Tears welled in his eyes as the most massive, primal wave of emotion imaginable hit him. It was unspeakable, he didn't know how to describe it, but all he knew was that for this child, he would do anything. He loved her so much without ever even seeing her or touching her—it was like the sky had opened up and he had seen into a new dimension. Joy beyond comprehension married to the deepest fear he'd ever experienced sent him through a strange new world of feelings. He reached out and took Jamie's hand, holding it tightly as he breathed unsteadily. "Tell me everything," he beseeched.

She squeezed his hand tenderly and as the miles flew by, she did exactly what he asked.

---

Location Unknown

In a dark, smoky dive bar, a shrimpy middle-aged man hunched over his drink, sipping the last contents out through a straw loudly.

Lurking in the shadows, Gadreel watched with distaste and dread alike. Why his fate was in the hands of the arrogant, bloodthirsty scribe was beyond him. He'd spent a few days biding his time and trying to decide if he actually wanted to align himself with Metatron. The attempt to kill Alex Winchester had been foiled, in large part thanks to how much moral issue Gadreel had taken with killing the mother and child both. But his final conclusion was that he had no real choice, and would have to do whatever it was Metatron asked. No other angel had the power Metatron did, and Gadreel had come to a place of realizing he didn't have the luxury of picking and choosing. He had to become more cut-throat if he wanted to survive and thrive.

With that in mind, he timidly made himself known by stepping out of the shadows and approaching. Metatron turned and eyed him without surprise. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked blandly, unimpressed eyes sweeping from toes to crown of the head. "What's with the new vessel? Don't tell me the Winchesters got one over on you." Metatron must have already known somehow—his demeanor was patronizing and irritated, passive aggressive. "Your loss," the Scribe muttered with an insolent eye roll. "They do tend to do that, I guess." He held up his empty glass at the bartender rudely, pointing at it impatiently to indicate he wanted more.

Gadreel watched with a clenched jaw and downcast, sheepish eyes. "I failed you," he uttered unhappily, bracing for wrath. "And now the bunker is warded against angels."

"What, giving up so easily?" Metatron asked without watering down his disgust. Shaking his head in annoyance, he sighed. "And here Ithought you could actually pull off the hits…"

"I can, I certainly can—" Gadreel asserted emphatically, trying to maintain a calm exterior even though he was anxiety-riddled and desperate inside. "I just need another opportunity, if you'll give me one."

Metatron eyed him thoroughly for an uncomfortably long second. His new drink came during that silence, and the Scribe sighed, pulling it over to himself. "Look. I'm a reasonable guy." He took a delicate sip through the tiny straw. "I'll give you one more chance. One, Gadreel. Do this one and I'll consider bringing you back in. But otherwise, I just don't see why I'd add you to my team."

Eager to please and wretchedly relieved at the second chance, Gadreel nodded readily. "I'll do it, I promise."

A doubtful, somewhat amused side eye came his way. "Uh huh. We'll see." Metatron set his drink down and pulled a white paper napkin over to himself, fishing around in his shirt and then pants for a pen. "Alex Winchester will put herself in the position to be killed soon, I'm sure of it." He found a pen and leaned over the napkin, writing something across it. "But meanwhile… word on the grapevine is someone related to her is out in the wind. Take care of this schmuck and then we'll talk, okay?"

He handed over the napkin. The name written there? Dean Winchester.

Not allowing any room for doubt or second thoughts, Gadreel nodded tensely and dutifully squared his shoulders. "It shall be done," he said gravely, then turned and exited the bar with his mission in mind. He would be bold and ruthless this time. He would not let any feelings or bias or emotion compromise his future. Dean Winchester would die at his hands, and Gadreel would not allow himself emotion around the act.

Metatron watched the angel leave with a wolfish glint to his eyes. He so enjoyed playing on emotions and fears. Gadreel's guilt and pain and conflict were especially delicious. The Scribe returned to his amaretto sour, sipping at the pungent drink daintily without a care in the world, fancying himself the apex predator who could never be defeated or unthroned.

And yet little did he know, the devil himself had clawed his way out of Hell and prowled the earth once more, amassing his loyal ones in silence and gaining power by sapping angels of their Grace. This was always meant to be his year, after all. It would be the end in the eyes of many. But for Lucifer, 2014 would be just the beginning…