Author's Note: I don't own Supernatural. Demons I get. People are crazy.

***Ember POV***

January 19, Daytime

Fall turned to winter quickly. Josephine was home for the holidays, and all three children spent a very happy Christmas with Ember at the bunker. Ember knew that Dean and Sam were unprepared, perhaps, with the amount of "Christmas" that Ember imposed upon them. If Dean had expected this to be like any of the four Christmases he had spent with Ember in the past (one year at Bobby's during the Apocalypse, one year settled at home without Sam, the miserable year they broke up, and the year they were "sort of" back together), he was wrong. She had children now, and she put in 100% on presents, gifts, and food. She knew nothing could make up for the childrens' real parents being gone, or for the six weeks she had spent as a demon – but she tried, nonetheless.

Aside from Christmas, Ember spent most days seeing clients, either online or over the phone. Garth had brought in a handful of bitten werewolves that saw her for therapy, which she treated like any other sort of addiction. Ember was pleased to learn through one of them that Kate had made her way into the pack and seemed to be fitting in. She saw two vampires on bagged blood, but most of her clients were survivors of demon possession that had found her online. She used a fake name, and so did they – but the money was real. Several of the demon possession survivors were children, as well, which were Ember's favorite, though it was sad work. She had never felt so fulfilled with her job.

Evenings were spent with the children, and with Dean as often as not. It helped that Dean's base of operations was less than 4 hours away from theirs, rather than nearly 11 hours like it was the first time they had dated. With her ability to teleport, the trip took Ember only about 40 minutes, as she had to stop halfway and recharge her power before teleporting the rest of the way. Sometimes, Dean and Sam both arrived with large tomes of research, or simply their laptops, for a few days at a time to "get out of the bunker and get some air."

None of the brothers, nor Ember, had heard from Castiel in a few months. Ember tried not to worry, as this was not uncommon; he was the type of friend that was there when you needed him, but had always spent large chunks of time on "angel missions."

True to form, however, when he did call, he called Dean. Ember got the impression that she might not even have known that he had called, except that she happened to be in the room at the time Dean got the call. Her heart jumped to her throat at the thought of seeing Castiel again, but she calmed herself, looking at the ring on her finger.

"This is why you called us?" Dean asked the angel the next day. "This is your emergency?" They had driven through the night at moments' notice to Pontiac, IL, only to find out that Castiel's "emergency" had to do with his vessel's daughters' escape from a group home.

"Yes!" insisted the angel.

"No, Cas! An emergency is a dead body, okay? Or—or a wigged-out angel, or the Apocalypse, take three. Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That's … that's every Friday night for Sam."

"Dude," Sam protested.

"Well," Dean kidded his brother.

"This isn't just 'some chick.' I'm responsible for her," protested Castiel.

"Since when?" Dean asked. "You met her once, how many years ago?"

"Look, Cas," said Sam. "Even if we do find Claire … Then what?"

"She rolled you, and then she ran, okay? It's pretty clear that she doesn't want to play house," said Dean.

"I don't know, I think it's great that you're following up with your vessels' daughter." Ember had asked Castiel to do this when he was a human. At the time, Claire had been with her grandmother, and her mother had been visiting occasionally. Ember wondered what had gone wrong over the past year.

"I need to know that Claire is safe," Castiel said. "And I need your help." He looked squarely at Ember, and Ember understood. This was something that Castiel had done at least in part because of her influence, but he didn't want to ask her outright, especially not in front of Dean.

"All right. Uh … Why don't we go ask around at the group home?" said Sam.

"Uh, you know what? We're going to stick here in case she circles back. You go ahead," said Dean. He sent Ember a significant look, and Ember understood: he wanted to talk to Castiel about the engagement. With a sinking heart, she turned her head and followed Sam back to the Impala.

***Castiel POV***

January 19, Evening

Ember smelled wonderful, and looked even better. Castiel hadn't been able to stop thinking about her for even one day since he'd last seen her, but he could at least say that he didn't think about her as often as he used to.

Nothing had changed, however. He was still desperately in love with her. He was still dying. Dean still needed her.

He was glad when Dean instructed Ember and Sam to go check out the group home so that he could speak with Dean alone. Ember was a distraction he could not afford. He understood, now, how much damage he had done to Jimmy Novak's family. It had been necessary, but he wished he could change their situation. "Is ketchup a vegetable?" he asked Dean, thinking about his meal earlier with Claire Novak.

"Hell, yes. All right, so spill. What's with the family reunion?"

"I don't know," he said. "I've just been … thinking about people." The truth was that he had meant to check on Claire awhile ago. He had done so last year at Ember's insistence, and he had meant to do so again this year, but things had been busy. He had spent several months on a mission with Hannah to bring rogue angels back to Heaven, but that mission had ended when Hannah finally accepted her humanity and gave her vessel back to her husband. He had been right – there was much to learn from humanity, and the angels could live harmoniously with them. Hannah had been right too, however – humanity was emotional, and fleeting. "No problem. I've helped some, but I've … I've hurt some."

"So you're having a midlife crisis," Dean said.

"Well, I'm extremely old," Castiel snarked. "I think I'm entitled."

"Cas, listen to me," Dean advised. "There's some stuff you just got to let go. Okay? The people you let down, the ones you can't save … You got to forget about them. For your own good."

"Is that what you do?" he challenged.

"That's the opposite of what I do," Dean said. "But I ain't exactly a role model."

"That's not true," Castiel argued. He had learned how easy it was to give into temptation, as a human. Dean was doing well, not to have given in to the Mark's influence already.

"Yeah." Dean began to laugh, obviously not believing his friend.

"How are you, Dean?" Castiel asked.

"Fine," Dean said immediately.

Castiel gave him a look. "I'm great!" he insisted again.

"No, you're not," Castiel argued.

"Yeah, well, I lost the black eyes, so that's a plus. But I still have this." Dean reached over and gently slapped the Mark on his arm.

"Is the Mark of Cain still affecting you?" Castiel asked.

A hooded look came over Dean's eyes, and his friend did not answer. "Dean?" Castiel asked again.

Dean blinked, returning to the present. "Cas, I need you to promise me something."

"Of course."

"If I do go dark side, you've got to take me out," said Dean.

"What do you mean?" asked the angel, although he already knew.

"Knife me. Smite me," Dean said. "Throw me into the freakin' sun, whatever. And don't let Sam, or Ember, get in the way, because they'll try. I can't go down that road again, man. I can't be that thing again."

"I was hoping Ember would help," Castiel confessed. "I honestly think she's always had a calming effect on-…"

"She does," Dean said emphatically. "Cas, you should know… we're engaged."

Something in Castiel's throat clenched up, and his heart turned over. He somehow managed to not let his reaction show, except for a small, involuntary tick of his mouth. Dean did not miss it. "Cas, I love her," he said.

"I know, Dean. If you hurt her, I'll-…"

"I know," he said seriously. "And that's why you have to promise me. You have to take me out."

-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

Castiel had been bowled over by both Dean's request and his admission that he and Ember were engaged. Now was not the time, however, for Castiel to deal with his feelings about either issue. Sam and Ember managed to get a tip from the nursing home about a boy named Dustin who might know Claire's whereabouts, and Dustin tipped off Castiel that Claire planned to rob a gas station. The boy's tip had been on target, and Castiel had caught Claire by the arm and marched her out of the gas station just before she pulled a gun.

Outside the gas station, however, Claire once again attempted to run from Castiel. "Claire, wait!" he yelled.

"Screw you," she said.

"Whoa, hey, Miley Cyrus. Settle," Dean said, coming up in front of her.

"Eat me, Hasselhoff," she replied.

"Claire, hold on a second," said Sam. "Look, my name's—…"

"Sam," Claire said, "And you're Dean. We've met, remember?"

"Claire," Castiel said, ignoring her conversation. "You were going to rob that convenience store?"

"So?"

'"So?"' Castiel asked, caught off guard. "So … it's—it's wrong!"

"You want to talk to me about wrong?" Claire asked viciously. "You killed my dad. Is that 'wrong' enough for you?"

"No, I didn't," protested Castiel.

"Really?" she challenged. "Because without you, he'd still be here. And my mom would still be around."

"Claire, I'm—…" he started, but she pulled a gun from her pocket and cocked it, pointing it at him.

"Don't!" she yelled.

"That won't hurt me," he reminded her gently.

"Fine," she said. She turned the gun on Sam and Dean, who both took a step back.

"Whoa!" yelled Dean. "Hey, come on."

"Hold on a second," protested Sam.

Castiel knew that Ember was standing with them, invisible, however she wouldn't act until someone shot. It was a tactic they often used when Ember was around. She could control iron rounds if someone pulled a gun, but often preferred to wait and see how far people would go before she used her powers to judge them.

"Why?" Claire asked. "Like you don't have it coming? You stood there while this monster took my dad." She turned to Castiel, her gun still on Sam and Dean. "I used to pray to you, Castiel. Every night. I would beg you to bring him home safe."

"I know," he admitted. He had explained this to Ember, once. That was why he had looked her up the first time. He had found out that her grandmother had died, however, and her mother hadn't returned to claim her, leaving her to travel through group homes for much of the past year.

"You know … My father was a good man," said Claire. "In what messed up world does he have to die and you get to live?"

"I'm sorry," said Castiel.

"No. You feel guilty," Claire said. "There's a difference."

"So what?" asked Sam. "Now you run back to Randy? The guy you steal for?"

"How do you know about that?" asked Claire.

"Dustin," said Dean.

"Claire, that man is using you," said Castiel.

"He was there for me," insisted Claire. "When things got bad—and they got real damn bad—he was there when no one else was. He's my family. And you're just … you can go to hell." And she ran away into the night, her gun still on Sam and Dean as she left.

"Ember?" Dean whispered into the night. There was no answer.

"Don't worry," said Dean. "Ember's with her."

***Dean POV***

January 19, Late Evening

Castiel was clearly dejected as they headed inside a nearby bar. "Give me a shot of, um…"

"Three whiskeys," said Dean.

"Cas, don't beat yourself up, man," said Sam. "Claire was …"

"Right," said Castiel. "She was right. Who am I to tell her how to live her life?"

"Well, somebody needs to," said Dean. "It's not like we're talking about Mother Teresa here. The girl just about knocked over a Gas n Sip. She's got issues."

"Because of me," said Castiel.

"Well, you are wearing her old man's meat suit," Dean said. "Probably didn't help." He caught Sam's admonishing shake of the head, but he had never been the type to sugarcoat things for his friends.

"I thought I could make it up to her," Castiel explained.

"I don't think you can," said Sam. "I mean, Jimmy was her father, and to some people, that's … That's everything, you know?"

"No, I don't," replied Castiel. "I never knew my father. He was distant, to say the least." He turned to Dean. "What about you? Did you love your father?"

Dean looked at Sam, then back at Castiel. He thought about his father, who had died to save him when he had been killed in a car accident. "With everything I had," he said honestly.

"Yeah," confirmed Sam. "Yeah. I mean, it wasn't always easy, but yeah."

"I mean, look," said Dean. "John Winchester's not going to win any 'Number One Dad' awards, you know? But you know… damn if he wasn't there when we needed him."

"Hey, uh … Tell him about that time in New York," said Sam.

Dean remembered the story vividly. "Oh yeah. Yeah, okay. So, uh … We were working this haunting in Long Island, and me and Sam begged the old man to let us go to the city for once."

"He had this thing about New York, right?" Sam filled in. "Too big, too loud, too dirty."

"Yeah, and he hated the Yankees," said Dean.

"Big time," confirmed Sam.

"Somehow, we convinced him to let us go," said Dean. "So, we all go. We all, you know, see all the sights, and uh, ride the subway, eat too much pizza. The whole nine. Well, by about midnight, Sam and Dad are zonked, and I figure… Screw it. I'm going to CBGB."

Sam started, "So CBGB is—…"

"I know," said Castiel. "It's where The Ramones and Blondie got their start."

Dean gave Sam a questioning look. He wondered who had finally schooled Castiel on pop culture. Had it been Ember? They had spent that year together… his heart clenched with jealousy, but now wasn't the time. "Right," he said.

"Wow," added Sam. "Anyways, he was way underage at the time."

"All right, so I get there," continued Dean. "I sneak in, and it is nuts. I mean, people are drinking and they're smoking and they're—they're snorting whatever. There's a five-hundred pound guy on stage with a Mohawk just screaming. And, uh, my mind is blown. I don't even know what to do. Then this girls walks up and she says 'Hey, why don't you come over and sit down with me and my friends at our table?' All right!"

"Yeah, and they get him drunk," said Sam. "First time."

"But not fun drunk," Dean continued. "I'm not quite sure what was in that stuff, but the room starts to spin, and I feel like I'm going to puke … forever. And right about that time, I hear him. 'Dean Winchester!'"

Castiel looked confused. "My old man," Dean continued. "I don't know how, but he found me. And now I'm really freaking out, because he's just standing there, not saying anything. I look around, and everybody else is freaking out, too. In fact, nobody's even looking him in the eye. And finally, this one guy with, like, a safety pin through his nose and a—a 'Kill Everything' tattoo looks up and he says, 'Sorry, sir.'"

Castiel smiled, and Dean shook his head. "Yeah. 'Sorry, sir.' To John friggin' Winchester."

Dean and Sam took a sip of their whiskey, but Castiel threw his back like a shot. "He saved you," said Castiel.

"Yeah, and you know what he got for that?" said Dean. "Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around and he looked at me and he said, 'Son, you don't like me? That's fine. It's not my job to be liked.'"

"'It's my job to raise you right'" finished Sam.

"Yeah. And he did," Dean added.

Castiel looked at Dean quizzically. "Are you that kind of father? To the children?"

Dean was taken aback by Castiel's question, but he realized, to his surprise, that he immediately knew the answer. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I… guess I am." Immediately to his mind came a story from the week before, and he laughed thinking about it. "Aidan had shacked up at a girls' house for three days, and not told us," he explained. "And he's 17, you know, I get it, but he could've told us. Turned out the girls' parents didn't know either, and it was a whole mess…" Ember had been furious, but not with him. He smiled again at the memory. "We never would've known, but I caught him sneaking back in one morning. And he tried to get me to keep it a secret, but I told him the same thing my Dad told me…" Dean shook his head. "That was last week, and Aidan's still grounded. But overall, they're good kids, you know? None of them have ever been in any real trouble…"

"Do you think Claire is in trouble?" asked Castiel.

"She's hanging out with a guy named Randy," Dean said. "She's in trouble."

Suddenly, the phone rang. It was Ember, with the address.

***Ember POV***

January 19, Night

Pulling out a phone while invisible was complicated at the best of times. If she kept it in her pants, it would remain invisible, like her clothing, so long as it fit tightly. If she held it in her hand, it extended past her invisibility, and she could never seem to make it stay invisible. Therefore, she had to be very careful about when, where, and how often she sent update texts when she was on a clandestine mission.

Finally, Claire made it home to what Ember assumed was her loan shark's house. She knew Sam, Dean, and Castiel were already headed this direction, so they wouldn't be too far behind her. She should really ask Dean to turn on the GPS in her phone, she thought – that would've made this a whole lot easier.

When Ember returned to the living room after texting the final address, she found a middle-aged man surrounded by slightly younger men, who she could only assume from the conversation were loan sharks. Claire was facing down the group of men, seeming startled.

"Guns blazing, huh?" said a scruffy man. "That was your plan? Trust me. This pile of crap? He ain't worth it."

Claire spit in his face. The man smiled. "Put her in the other room," he said to one of his goons.

Ember smiled. She had a feeling she knew what was about to happen. Once Claire and the loan shark's goon were out of sight, Ember acted. She forced both up against the wall, frozen, listening, out of sight. The loan shark goon's face was a picture of fear, but Claire's eyes showed annoyance as well.

"So how about I give you a break?" the loan shark was asking Randy. "And you give me the girl."

Randy shook his head. "That's a joke, right? Claire's like family to me."

"Please!" the loan shark said. "I know the con, all right? You find some kid with Major League daddy issues and then get her to steal for you. Cut the proud papa act. I'll make you a good deal."

"Like I said, Claire's family," said Randy. "So it better be a damn good deal."

Claire's eyes turned fearful, betrayed, though she still didn't move. The time was now. In one swift motion, Ember let both Claire and the loan shark's goon go. She couldn't keep ahold of them for too much longer, anyway, as it was beginning to max out the new limit on her powers… but they didn't need to know that. Instead, she took the loan shark and suspended him by one ankle from the ceiling, using her force powers. "Leave!" she commanded in a high, cold voice. "The girl will not be touched! And you will never see her again, or I will gut you! Leave, now, or die!"

All the men in the room scattered. Claire attempted to run, too, but Ember tripped her, and she went sprawling on the floor. "Not you," she whispered.

When she walked out with Claire, she saw the Impala driving up toward the house. "Ride's here," she said to Claire gently, becoming visible suddenly.

Claire screamed with shock and rage, but another, louder scream came from behind her. It was the loan shark, who Ember hadn't seen at first. She knew he must've taken more time getting out of the house after being dropped to the floor from an airborne position. He must've figured out what was really going on after he saw Ember reappear. "What the fuck, bitch!" he screamed at Ember. "She's mine, fair and square you stupid whore!"

Suddenly, Dean was there, too. She felt him hurtle past her, and she saw, for just a second, the look in his eyes. Crazed, his pupils blown wide, like a killer. "Dean!" she screamed at him, but he kept going. He punched the loan shark, once, twice, laying into the man. "Dean!" Ember screamed again, but he wouldn't stop. Blood was gushing from the mans' nose and mouth, and Dean had taken him by the throat and was choking him. The man was helpless to resist, and Dean's eyes were cold, his mouth upturned in a smirk. Claire was screaming again, and her screams added to the confusion.

"Dean, please!" Ember screamed, one last time, desperately, and hit Dean with a blast of force-power. Dean was blasted off his feet and backward, where he hit the ground with a light thud. The loan shark began to limp as fast as he could into the forest. His leg was obviously broken, as Dean had bent it backward, and it stuck out oddly behind him.

When he hit the ground, Dean seemed to shake himself, and his eyes ultimately came to rest on Ember. She saw his brown eyes blown wide in the flickering light, and they were full of fear. His breath was coming in giant heaves, and he began to shake. Ember ran to him and hugged him, and she felt his hands encircle her, and his body use hers for weight. "Ember," he whispered softly. "Ember…"