Author's Note: I don't own Supernatural, blah de blah blah.

***Ember POV***

February 26, Early Morning

THREE WEEKS LATER

Almost a month went by, and a suitable (and suitably evil) vessel for Michael had still not been found.

Still, the boys kept busy. By the end of February, they were hot on the trail of an elusive serial killer that killed by eating the eyes and, sometimes, other various bits and pieces.

Ember preferred not to be involved in cases like this in particular; she'd come to terms with seeing dead bodies, but she'd always preferred to let the boys do the work any time that guts were involved.

Unfortunately, this time Ember didn't have much of a choice.

"We're hunting a gorgon," Castiel informed her late on a Tuesday night. He had flown her out to a hotel room in the middle of New Mexico to meet up with the brothers. "It's an ancient, cursed being with an affinity for snakes and a hunger for human flesh. It strikes by paralyzing its prey. And, they can see the future by consuming human eyes."

"That explains why they always saw you coming, even with Rowena's tracking spell," Ember filled in. She knew Rowena had been brought on the case when this particular monster had proved himself to be more elusive than most, but even that hadn't helped.

"Exactly," said Dean. "And, why we'll need you to help hunt it."

Ember groaned. "Seriously!?" she asked. "You know I hate seeing people who have been eaten!"

Dean rolled his eyes impatiently. "Yeah, well, you and Cas are the only ones who can go invisible."

Ember rolled her eyes and pouted. This was her least favorite kind of case: the mystery was already solved, and all that was left was fighting and, apparently, guts.

"This guy is responsible for as many as 17 unexplained deaths in the last three months, in addition to the ones we already knew about," Sam filled in. He was always the pragmatic one, and he knew the death count would ultimately sway Ember. "And, best of all, he might be a decent vessel for Michael."

Ember looked at Castiel to confirm. "I said might," Castiel said. "I'll be able to tell when I meet him. But it's the best chance we've had so far. Typically older creatures like this that already contain some magic have the best shot at being able to hold Michael at least for a few minutes."

Ember sighed. She hadn't been on a non-Michael-related hunting trip since the previous Halloween. She liked hunting from time to time, but anything with guts (werewolves, zombies, rugarus) was definitely not her favorite. Still, Castiel and Dean needed her, and so it wasn't even a question. "Fine," she said. "I'll do it."

-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

The following morning, Ember was awakened early by Castiel. "Another body has been found," he said tersely.

The two of them joined Dean at a truck stop. Ember was still invisible, more to mask her state of undress than because she felt unsafe. A truck driver had been killed, his eyes gouged out like the rest of the dead bodies.

"I've never seen anything like this," the local police officer was saying. "And, uh, yes, there is one other thing… a note on the body."

The note was made out to Dean. "Dean," it said, "I see you standing alone by the truck reading this note. I see you and the tall man and the red-headed witch chasing me. I will always see you. Stop, or I will make you stop. Regards, Noah."

"I'm on a first-name basis with some psycho pen pal," Dean grumbled. "That's aces."

"Somehow he knows you," said Castiel. "And that confirms the theory that he can't see Ember. But why doesn't he mention me?"

"Maybe you're not his type," Dean said gruffly.

Dean called Sam, Rowena, and Jack, who were in a nearby hotel room, and put them on speaker phone.

"For the record, I don't love being included on his little hit list," said Rowena's voice.

"But he can't see Cas, Jack, or Ember?" asked Dean.

"It's an odd and glaring omission," said Castiel.

"No," said Sam. "It's our shot. He can't see demons, and he can't see angels."

"But I'm not either," protested Jack.

"Well, apparently you're close enough," said Castiel.

***Dean POV***

Februry 27, Evening

The plan was simple. Castiel, Ember, and Jack would strike first. Dean, Sam, would come 3 minutes later. Castiel had anti-venom in case things went wrong. They had rope and handcuffs so that they could capture Noah to use as a vessel for Michael.

Dean hated the plan. But then, Dean hated any plan that involved him taking the lesser part of the risk.

When Dean and Sam arrived on the scene and looked around, things didn't look good. Ember was getting up from the floor, but there was murder in her eyes and she looked fine. The fact that she had become visible meant that it had no longer benefitted her to stay invisible; this meant that even though Noah hadn't been able to see her with his future-sight, he had been able to see her in person.

Jack, too, was on the floor. Castiel, however, was prone and unresponsive on the ground.

"Hello, Dean," said Noah. "Wish I could say it's nice to meet you in person."

"Yeah. It's a real pleasure," he grumbled. Sam jumped into the fray as Ember and Jack both darted toward where Castiel was lying. Noah sent Sam to the floor easily, and Dean doubled his efforts. But Noah was older, and quicker… he fought like a snake, and it was difficult to keep him in one place.

Ember and Dean tag-teemed Noah; Ember rushed him from the side and Dean from the font, but he backhanded Ember and she fell back once more. Then Noah had him, and was smashing his head against the wall, once, twice…

Michael.

But Dean knew no more.

***Jack POV***

February 27, Night

He should've been better. He should've been quicker. Noah the gorgon was downstairs in the dungeon, tied up and duct taped. Castiel was healed by his grace using his soul magic, which was worth it despite the fact that Jack knew he would receive a lecture for it.

And still, Dean was out cold. Castiel hadn't even been able to see into Dean's head to heal him. It had been left unspoken, but everyone guessed this had something to do with Michael.

"Jack," Castiel said, pausing at the door to Jack's room. He had the look on his face that Jack easily identified as meaning that Castiel meant to reassure him, but also lecture him about using his soul magic again.

"I hate seeing him like that," Jack said, thinking of Dean. "But he's gonna be okay, right? I mean, it's Dean. It was a fight. It was just a fight." The Winchesters got in fights with the supernatural all the time…

"Every time we go out, there's always a risk," Castiel said gently.

"I can't think about losing him or - or Sam or you, or Mom. I just - I hate thinking about it."

"Yeah, so do I," agreed his father. "But, Jack you know, Sam and Dean, they're human, and they're very extraordinary, brave, special humans, but they're still humans. And humans burn bright, but for a very brief time compared to, you know, things like us. And eventually, they're gone, even the very best ones, and we have to carry on. It's just… It's part of growing up."

Castiel shook his head again. "Even your mother, who is still half human… Jack, she only has maybe 200 or 300 years. And I don't know what I'll do without her, Jack, but I can always-…"

"Wait," Jack said in shock. "Mom's… not… immortal?"

Castiel looked at him in shock. "No, son, I thought-…"

A horrible feeling engulfed Jack. In only 200 or 300 years, his mother, Sam, and Dean would all be dead. "What's the point?" he asked, feeling defeated.

"The point?"

"What's the point of being a cosmic being if everyone I care about is just gonna leave?" Jack asked.

"The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them," his father said vehemently, looking frustrated. "When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them."

"That sounds… awful," Jack said seriously.

"It is," said Castiel in the manner of one who is stating fact. "But it's also living. So when Dean wakes up - and he will wake up - we just have to remember to appreciate the time that we all have together now."

Jack stood carefully, processing this answer. "What if he doesn't wake up?" he asked. "What about Michael? What if -…"

"I don't know, Jack," said Castiel, sighing wearily.

"Okay, but I could use my powers," Jack protested. He could use his grace, even if it would burn off his soul. He could-

"No, Jack!" said his father, and now he was angry. "I know you want to help, but you cannot -…"

"What is the good of having these powers if I can't help the people that I love, if I can't help them when they need it?" Jack burst out. "It's selfish of me not to!"

"I understand how frustrating it is," said Castiel in an attempt at calm.

"I know," Jack said. And he did know – he had heard all about when Castiel was a human, when his mother and father had first fallen in love.

Jack turned away from his father and cast around for a subject change. He walked over to the gorgon's pet snake, which Jack was now keeping in his bedroom.

"You're keeping the snake?" Castiel asked curiously.

Actually, that brought up another thing Jack was worried about – the story Noah had told, just before they captured him.

"Once there was a crafty black snake who kept eating this poor chicken's eggs. She couldn't watch them all the time, you see? The black snake would wait until she was gone and then slide one of the eggs into his mouth and crush it in his throat. Now, this went on until there was only one egg left. But when the chicken left that egg, just for a moment, the snake swallowed it up. But for some reason, he couldn't crush it in his throat. The chicken had hard-boiled her final egg just to choke the snake. And the snake died."

"Why are you telling us this story?" Castiel had asked sharply.

Noah had laughed, eyeing Jack. "Because I can't quite tell if he's the chicken or the snake."

"Rowena said that the gorgons can see people's fate," Jack said. "And Noah said he could see me. That story…" He shook his head.

"The story about the chicken and the snake?" Castiel asked. "It was just… He was stalling."

"What does it mean?" Jack asked.

"It's a story about greed mostly," Castiel answered. "But I guess it's also about being willing to give up the thing you love in order to kill the thing you hate."

"He said that he didn't know if I was the chicken or the snake," Jack said thoughtfully.

Just then, however, they both began to hear noises from the direction of the sickbay.

Both of them made a run for it.

Dean was up, and furious. "Where is he?" he was screaming. "Where is he?" He was turning over and plowing through everything on the shelves in the sickbay.

"No, wait! Dean! Dean!" shouted Sam as Jack rushed into the room. "No, stop! Dean, stop it! It's me! You're in the bunker!"

"I know where I am! That's not-…" Dean stopped, catching his breath. Then he seemed to come back to himself, and turned to them carefully.

"He's gone!" Dean said in a panic. "Michael. He's gone!"

"How?" asked Jack.

"This is my fault," Dean whispered, looking distraught. "I let my guard down. This is my fault!"

Jack looked around, suddenly realizing Castiel had disappeared. He had been right by his side only a second ago…

"I told you!" Dean screamed again. "I told you to let me take that coffin ride to the bottom of the ocean!"

"Okay, Dean, just -…" But then they heard a terrible scream.

Jack's first thought was Krissy, but she was back in Conway Springs in school. His second thought was Mom, but the screaming didn't sound like her. As one, Jack, Castiel, Sam, and Dean ran into the situation room.

The situation room was covered in dead bodies. Five of the survivors, the ones who had been milling around the bunker, lay dead. Jackson and Trevor were hunched over the table, bleeding from the head. Nathan, Shauna, and Xu were lying near the stairs. Xu had claw marks in his chest.

The screamer had been Maggie. Castiel (who had obviously reappeared here) had thrown her behind him, but it didn't seem to matter; even as they watched, she fell, torn asunder by white light. Then she fell to the ground, dead, her eyes burned out.

Maggie had almost finished learning to operate the switchboard while Sam and Ember were both busy, Jack thought distantly… but now she was-…

Castiel jumped backward away from her, his eyes narrowed. There was blood coming from his nose, and running down his face from a cut near his eye, and his angel blade was drawn. He had obviously come here earlier than the rest of them… Jack supposed that explained why he had disappeared suddenly.

Then Ember stepped forward from the other room. "Hello, boys," she said in a low voice. Her eyes were black, with a gleaming blue speck in the middle. It made her look truly evil and sinister. "I could've burned them all, but I'm feeling very hands-on."

Jack felt as though the world was crumbling around him. This must surely be the work of Michael. If he'd been faster, if he'd been here to protect his mother, this wouldn't have happened.

"You leave her alone!" said Jack firmly.

"Michael," said Dean, stiffening.

"That's right," said Ember, who was now Michael. "I thought you'd appreciate this vessel. I certainly do."

"You let her go," commanded Jack again.

"Oh, please," said Michael. "She's much sturdier than she looks. Just inhuman enough to hold me."

"Ember would never would have let you in," accused Castiel.

"She didn't want to say yes, but… it was either her, or the red-headed witch," Michael said. He used Ember's body to gesture to Rowena, who was slumped over at a table in the library beyond archway. There was no blood around her body, and she looked as though she was either sleeping or knocked out.

"I think she thought her mind would put up more of a resistance to me, with her being half-demon and all."

Michael laughed. "And I admit, it did… a bit. But I'm for too powerful for that."

Dean recovered himself first. "Sam, get the cuffs," he said.

Sam moved to go get the angel cuffs, as he was closest, but Michael raised his hand and they all fell to the floor in pain.

"That's not very nice," said Michael. "And if we're not being nice, what if you couldn't breathe?" He took a step down the stairs, and snapped his fingers, and Sam and Dean both began gasping for breath.

"That's a terrible feeling, isn't it?" asked Michael. "What if you were also blind?" Michael snapped Ember's fingers again, and Jack saw Sam's eyes go white.

"Sam," choked out Dean.

"And what if you just hurt?" Michael continued. This time when he snapped his fingers, Dean, Sam, and Castiel all curled up and groaned in pain.

Jack couldn't stand it anymore. He would not watch this. There was a satchel on the table next to him with an angel blade sticking out of it, and he reached for it when Michael wasn't looking…

"But fun as this is, I think no more games," said Michael. "This time, you all die. This time, the world burns…"

This was it. Jack grabbed the angel blade out of the satchel. He couldn't pray to his mother or else Michael would hear. "I'm sorry, Father. I love you…"

"Michael!" he shouted, brandishing the angel blade.

Michael turned on him, shooting white light out of his fingers.

It hurt, and Jack staggered backward. He quickly drew more power from his soul to counter it. Then he faced Michael again, drawing even more power from his soul until his eyes shone with grace. "Tell them I'm sorry…" Out loud he said, "Let them go!"

"You think you can match me, boy?" Michael screamed. "This power you have now - it's nothing, just a crutch."

"Tell Krissy I love her… Tell them all I love them…" Jack drew more power, shooting his own grace back at Michael.

It hit Michael, in Ember's body, in the chest, and he flinched as his mother staggered backward. Then Sam and Dean began to gasp in deep breaths, and he realized that Michael's power over them had been broken.

"How dare you do that to your mother!" Michael shouted, and he sent another ball of grace hurtling toward Jack.

Jack went flying backward, but now that he freely was drawing power from his soul, it barely touched him. "You're not her," he said, recovering.

"Jack!" cried Castiel somewhere in the background, but Jack paid the angel no mind.

"Burning off your soul?" Michael asked casually. "You'll run out soon enough."

"It's worth the cost," said Jack, standing up again.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Michael said, facing him still in the body of his mother.

"I feel the same," Jack said, keeping his voice level.

Then Michael began an onslaught. "I am the commander of the host!" he yelled, shooting another ball of grace. "I am the cleanser of worlds! I will not be challenged by a child!"

Jack took Michael's balls of grace, but they didn't touch him. He could feel his soul flowing cleanly into his magic. "I love you…"

"I'm not a child!" he yelled. "I'm the son of an angel and a half-demon! I am Jack Novak-Winchester!"

"Jack!" Castiel screamed. "No!"

Jack moved forward on instinct now, and put both of his hands on his mother's head, forcing the angel out. His mother collapsed, and he knew instinctively that she would recover.

Michael was flying now, in the air over their heads, trapped there by Jack's magic. "You won't hurt anyone ever again!" he yelled.

He knew, instinctively, to kill, kill, kill, and the magic from his soul was still flowing freely. And then just as the essence of Michael began to fade, he saw Michael's grace, and reached out for it. It came to him willingly, or perhaps he overpowered it, but he honestly couldn't tell the difference.

Then he felt… right. As though all of the pieces of him that Lucifer had taken almost a year ago had somehow slotted back into place.

"Jack?" Dean asked from somewhere behind Jack.

He heard the soft fluttering of wings, and knew that his father had flown the few feet to his mother's side to check on her. He would find her sleeping peacefully, Jack knew.

"Michael – He's dead," Jack said, calmly.

"Jack," said Sam. "Are you, uh -…"

Jack drew upon his grace, the way he used to, before Lucifer had drained him. He found it to be fully restored, just as he had suspected. "I'm me again," Jack said calmly. And to demonstrate, he flared his wings behind him.

***Ember POV***

February 27, Night

"You won't be able to possess me or control me anyway," Ember spat at Michael. He was only in her mind – she knew that – he looked and sounded solid, like a more refined version of Dean. "My mind is different because I'm half-demon. It's more resistant."

"That's true," Michael said calmly. "I won't be able to withstand sharing a mind with such a disgusting creature for very long. But I won't need to, will I? Only long enough to destroy them…"

"I'll never let you-…"

"Then I'll possess the red-headed witch," he said frankly. "I can use her 300 years of magic, and burn your world even faster."

"Don't you dare, you fucking-…"

"Do you use that tongue to kiss your angel, demon? Accept, or the red-headed witch will accept, and you'll have to watch her kill everyone you love."

"Yes," Ember said.

Then, in the second between her agreement and the moment white covered her vision, Ember prayed, "Castiel…"

"The funeral is over," Castiel said gruffly, entering the bedroom. It was the bedroom Ember and Castiel used when they stayed the night at the bunker for whatever reason. "Jack's in his bedroom with Krissy, and Sam and Dean have retired for the night," Castiel continued.

Ember barely moved.

"I flew Eileen in from her hunt in Minnesota as well, for Sam," Castiel added. "I thought it… prudent."

Ember still didn't stir. Finally, she said in a small voice… "Did you find out… anything more? About Jack?"

"Not really," Castiel said. "He is much stronger than me. Even with his permission, I can't view his soul or his mind the way I could if he were human."

And yet, Castiel held out two fingers.

Ember knew what he wanted: full access to her mind. She nodded, choking on a sob.

The moment he touched his fingers to her head, the bedroom dissolved around them. Instead, they were back in the cave where Castiel had proposed.

"Not-not here," Ember said. "It'll ruin it."

Instead, Ember created, in her mind, a new place for them to talk. The bed was exactly like their bed in Conway Springs, but the walls were gray and drab. They reflected her current mood.

Ember sensed the moment that Castiel felt how upset she was: the immense weight that had settled somewhere around her navel, the feeling like she was holding down vomit, and the tears that would never stop. He didn't comment, but he climbed into the bed and pulled her closer to him. She could feel bits of his grace winding their way around her depression, and she felt mildly less nauseous.

"Cas…" Ember whimpered, curling around him on the bed.

"Ember," he said, holding her. "It wasn't your fault. It-…"

"You must know more about Jack than you've said," she said, changing the subject. She was refusing to look him in the eyes, and her voice was muffled by the fabric of his trenchcoat.

Castiel sighed. "There's no way to know exactly how much of his soul he burned off. But Ember, there can't be much left. The power it must have taken to destroy Michael…"

Ember sobbed harder. "How do we get it back?" But she already knew it was hopeless, and her mind communicated as much to him.

He simply held her.

"Cas… can you make it go away? The memories of… of what I did…" She still refused to look at him.

"I could try," he said. "I'd have more luck at erasing memories when I have your consent, I think, but… not when you're so mentally depleted. I'm sorry, but we don't know what could happen. Our best chance would be when you're better rested and fed than you are now."

"Wouldn't now be the best time?" she asked. "While I'm so…" Ember's voice drifted off, but a darker part of her mind supplied the words instead:

Hopeless.

Pointless.

Worthless.

Better dead.

"Stop," said Castiel, and Ember cried harder.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "But it's not just you. I… I expended a lot of grace in that fight."

"I hurt you," Ember said, still sobbing. "I hurt… I killed…."

"It wasn't your fault," Castiel said again, then he sighed. "I'm going to put you into a deep and dreamless sleep," he said. "You'll sleep for 8 hours, at least. And I'm going to go to sleep, too," he added.

Then he touched her forehead again, and everything went mercifully calm.