Lux was a quick study. When they returned from bereavement, they requested a sabbatical and dedicated themselves to learning. Being a tenured professor had its perks, though, and even with the official sabbatical, they were allowed access to the university's library. And so they read and studied and began compiling the information digitally and in journals. If there was one thing Lux knew it was to not put your full trust in electronic devices.

It was when Lux started feeling like they were being watched that they began looking into protection like John suggested. The sensation crept in about four months into their sabbatical and it wasn't long after that, that Lux was seated at a tattoo shop, a sheet of sigils ready for the artist.

The impression of being watched faded after the first couple of symbols had been done, but Lux committed to their plan. Better safe than sorry. Lux considered what they had learned so far, which did not, much to their chagrin, include how to kill a demon. They could send demons back to hell, sure, But, those same demons could always find ways to return. Not to mention, Lux was certain an exorcism wouldn't be enough to hold a prince of hell at bay for long.

Their mind flipped through the information collected so far like a rolodex, categorizing and reorganizing what they'd learned so far. They understood who Azazel was now, the possible roles he could play in the end times, not excluding the preparation of a vessel. No, the vessel.

The idea sent a shiver down Lux's back. It could be them. It could be Sam, John's kid. It could be any of the dozens, maybe hundreds, of others out there, like Lux. They'd found only four other nursery incidents that matched Sam's. Even Lux wasn't the only one with a nursery fire incident that wasn't' born in '83. But there were other kids, nursery fire or not, they knew. In other years, with different circumstances. Because what John had missed was the importance of the signs. Those were the flags to look for, not the fires. And what they had found, the numbers they discovered... Swallowing hard, they tried to center themselves again by delving into their knowledgebase.

That was another thing. Lux noticed the tremendous shift in their inner workings. The more information they accumulated, the sharper their intuition became. Because that's all they could call it – intuition. With so much data, some contradictory and some downright made up, it would be difficult for anyone to come to any sort of solid conclusion. Lux's intuition, though, it never failed them. An additional strangeness, prompted by the demon blood in their veins most likely, but they wouldn't complain. It was how they knew exactly what symbols they needed to use on themselves, after all. And it would be the key that would get them what they wanted.

Azazel had created vessels, sure, but also weapons. And this weapon would turn on him and end him for what he'd stolen from them.

They sat for hours at the parlor, and when they were done, their back, chest and thighs were covered with sigils, all of them recurring in different places yet hidden from prying eyes still. When the artist asked them why the repetitiveness, Lux gave a small smile. "Insurance," they answered easily, leaving the artist as confused as when he started.

"Well, you took it like a champ, anyway," the bearded man said as he rang them up. "Especially for a first timer."

"Yeah, well, I've felt worse things," Lux noted without much thought. The tattoo artist's features lit with misguided understanding. Gods, even when he doesn't know, he feels the need to pity. Lux's smile dropped, replaced by a cold gaze that made the man pale. "Thanks for squeezing me in. Have a good day."

The next couple of months, Lux spent visiting occult shops and antique bookstores, psychics and spiritual guides.

Many books and notes they found in the shops and bookstores went straight into their knowledge base after a night of reading. The people, well, they were more miss than hit. Only a handful had been proven to be like Missouri, and they had been helpful in Lux's understanding of the world beyond the veil. Many taught them useful spells, wards, potions and hex bags. Others provided information not found in books – information about underground groups like the hunters and more secretive organizations, like the Men of Letters.

This clandestine faction was what Lux was most interested in. From the subtle bits they'd gathered, the Men of Letters were observers, chroniclers that kept over thousands of years of knowledge about the supernatural collected in some hidden space. Well, multiple spaces. That information had Lux jonesing to get their hands on a way to uncover where the Men of Letters had locked away all that precious knowledge.

A breakthrough came seven months later. Lux wasted no time in packing the essentials and tossing their duffle bag into the trunk of their car before starting the drive to Rhode Island. There was a bunker there, a Men of Letters hiding place, and Lux was certain they'd find the answer they were looking for there.

Their cell phone was tossed on the passenger's seat and they chewed on their inner cheek as they considered their options. Picking it up, Lux selected John's name from the contacts and hit the call button. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help."

Exhaling hard, they hung up and tapped their fingers on the steering wheel. "A 32-hour drive is long as is. Take out time to find John?" they asked with a tilt of their head. "Or find the bunker, with actual useful information on a weapon?" they hummed, tilting their head the other way, as if weighing the two options. Another thought struck and while it sparked all the lights of their intuition, it also made them apprehensive. "Fuck. John's kids."

Despite the end goal and the desire to find what Lux figured would be some sort of magnificent underground bunker, their intuition demanded they follow the last option. It made Lux groan in frustration. "Okay, first find the Men's hideaway and then Dean and Sam," they compromised with themselves. The decision made their intuition howl, but Lux ignored it.

When they made their stop for the night, Lux scoured the internet, taking into account the different sightings and paths the Winchester offspring might have taken. It helped that Dean was famous, though probably not in the way he wished he was.

The last sighting of him was Milwaukee, Wisconsin, somehow involved in a hostage situation. Sam would've been with him, of course. "Your children sure do have a flair for dramatic, John," Lux muttered as they read through various articles. After some more researching, their intuition kicked in and it pleased them to know they wouldn't actually have to make much of a detour. "See you in Providence, boys."