Chapter 9

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"There's only one thing you can count on. Family." Sam's words kept repeating in her head. Family. She didn't have that. She never had that. Not as far as she could remember. As for her dreams or recalling of what might have been her family. She would rather not think about them. They left her with more questions than answers. More than not knowing or remembering whether she ever had a family or not, she didn't know who she was. She has made up her mind. She needed to figure out this first. She needed to find out who she was and she couldn't do it with Dean and Sam. She had to do it alone. She had to leave. And she left. All that was left behind her was a handwritten note to Dean and Sam.

She didn't know where she was going. Where she should go. She knew that there's something that she needed to find out and that was who she is. Who she was in a past life. She needed to figure what the First One really was. What it really implied. On the long dark road, a truck stopped and she climbed in.

"Where you're going, missy?" The driver asked her.

"Wherever you're stopping should be fine." Emma replied.

"The name's Selma." The driver introduced herself.

"Emma." And they shook hands briefly.

"So, where are you running to in the middle of the night?" Selma asked her.

"I'm not running anywhere." Emma sighed. "I don't even know where I'm going."

"It happens to everybody, hon'." Selma said. "You get lost sometimes until you find your way."

"You've been lost?"

"In my younger years." Selma continued. "And now, I drive from New York to New Mexico, passing through Montreal."

"You seem happy with this life."

"And I am." She nodded. "Don't worry. You'll find out what makes you happy."

"I hope so."

She was shaken awake by Selma as they stopped in the early hours of the day. She didn't know how far she was from the motel she just left. And it was for the best. This truck stop was like any truck stop she had encountered, there was a motel and a dinner. There was a fueling station and a bit further away a bar and a movie theater. Emma followed Selma to the dinner and she was on her way there when her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Emma, what's that about?" It was Dean.

"Dean." She sighed. "You don't sound to happy."

"You left in the middle of the night and all we get is a note." Dean continued. "A note?"

"I could have gone without leaving anything behind." She said back. "Look, this whole thing with Adam and his mom made me realize that…I'm not part of this. I know nothing about myself. I don't even know if I have a family or not." She paused. "I just need to figure out some stuff on my own. It doesn't mean that I'd be gone forever."

"You're sure about this?" Dean asked.

"I am." Emma answered. "I hope you understand."

"Not really but I can try." Dean retorted.

"Thanks." Emma smiled. "Take care, both of you."

"Yeah, you too."

"Dean, keep an eye on Sam." Emma felt obligated to say. "I know you already do but something's not right with him, lately."

"I know." Dean said.

"No, you don't." Emma said back. "Just be careful." And she hung up.

Even then, she couldn't bring herself to tell Dean about Sam's blood addiction. She couldn't tell him that his brother was doing something unspeakable. She couldn't. Would he even believe her? Would Sam deny everything? That she would never know. Although, she hoped for the best.

Dreams plagued her night again. Dreams that she did not comprehend. Dreams that was vivid and real, was foreign to her. But those dreams might actually be the key to her past life.

The fall broke several of her bones. Moving was painful. She didn't have to. Camael was there, in spite of her sending him away. He was there. He scooped her in his arms and transported her to safety.

She woke up several hours later, her body finally healed. Camael was sitting at her side. "Emmanuelle, you can't keep doing this."

"I know." She sat up. Her once white dress was now covered in blood. "That's why I wanted to see you before they interrupted us." Camael leaned over. "Lucifer and Michael have already picked their vessels. Two brothers, like them. They're still young. But our brothers are both looking for me."

"They've been doing a good job so far." Camael said. "You're like a neon sign in the middle of the night. Wherever you will go, they'll find you."

"They could see me before, why trying to stop me, now?" Emma pointed out. "How even from the cage, Lucifer is looking for me? Why Michael is trying to stop me?"

"The Apocalypse is close." Camael breathed out.

"Destruction of Humanity for some and Paradise on Earth for others." Emma scoffed. "When really, it's just two brothers fighting." Emma stood up. "They know I will stop them at any cost. Hell, and Heaven want this fight but I don't. And Father is hiding somewhere, keeping out of the fight when he could stop it."

"It doesn't make any sense. You never used your powers against them and I know you never will." Camael stood next to her.

"Don't be so sure about this." Emma turned around to look at him. "Camael, what I'm about to ask you is very difficult. I need to go in hiding for a moment."

"You have been hiding away for years. Playing house with humans, raising children that weren't yours." Camael retorted.

"I needed to rebuild myself." Emma said. "I needed to stay away for a while. And I fell in love with humanity even more than before. Some are misguided but others are truly kind and generous and even stronger than God himself." She grabbed his shoulders gently. "We're not here to speak about mankind. You know what I want from you."

"I can't do it. I won't do it." Camael stepped away from her. "Ask someone else, not me."

"I only trust you."

"I refuse to do it." He shook his head. "You can't ask this of me."

"Camael, please, I have no other choice." Emma said softly. "I won't see humanity destroy or another family torn apart because of them."

"I WON'T DO IT." Camael snapped. "I can't. Helping you means killing you."

This time, she didn't wake up in the middle of the night. She was pleasantly surprised that she slept through the entire night. And yet, she was confused about the dream. Why was Camael so afraid and wounded? What was that thing she wanted from him?

All the research she had made so far had told her nothing about herself. And the internet seemed to think that Emmanuelle is a "he." Not very helpful.

It was two uneventful days during which she has met a nice family of four who drove her to the nearest town. It was a small town called Fredericksburg. There were two museums, filled with historical buildings, many boutiques, galleries and restaurants.

Emma decided to go to St Mary's church. She was surprised that Camael hasn't showed himself, yet. Usually, he was nagging her to go and stay with the Winchesters, it was her own desire. Her own wish. That was then. Now, she needed answers and Camael seemed to be the one to know them. She decided to pray him, to call him.

She picked a red and purple candle, lit it up. And started to pray.

"Angel of Joy, I ask for your undivided attention and steadfast support. Gives me strength, guidance and protection as I make changes in my actions and reactions."

"That's very official." Camael whispered in her ear. Emma looked up at him. "No, really, I'm touched. Not a lot of people know this prayer or even pray me."

"I grew up in a Catholic orphanage, remember?" Emma retorted.

"No, you didn't." Camael looked around him. "Anyway, why did you leave the Winchesters? You were doing what you were supposed to. Be with them and help them."

"Well, you didn't show up to sermon me. So, I thought I give you a call." Emma nodded.

"Tell me, why did you leave them?"

"I've been having those dreams." Emma started. "Vivid dreams."

"About what?"

"Heaven. Michael, Lucifer. Something you strongly refused to do for me." Camael gravely looked at her.

"Those aren't dreams. Those are memories." Camael stood up and starting out of the church.

Emma followed him. "I had a feeling they were." They walked down the steps of the church. "But what does that mean?"

"How long have you been having those dreams?"

"Alastair's torture session. Why?"

He stopped further down the road. "You and I are going on a road trip. Well, so to speak."

"To where?"

"Where it all started."

Lawrence, Kansas. It all started here for the Winchesters. Sam and Dean lost their mother in a fire. Where their lives as hunters really started. It all started here for Emmanuelle, too. Well, not exactly. It all started when God ordered Michael to cast Lucifer into Hell. Lawrence was another step in Emmanuelle's life. There, she became the one she was now. The lost woman with no memory, no past, no family, no friends.

"The Winchesters were born in this town." Camael said as they walked up to the two-store house. "It's where you were born. The 'you' that you are today."

They climbed the steps that led to the porch. "The 'me' that I am today? What does that even mean?" Emma frowned. "Why are we here?"

"This is where it all began." Camael said fishing for the keys in his pocket. He unlocked the door. "Ladies, first."

Emma stepped in the hallway. The wall was white, and filled with photos. Black and white and colored ones. There was a staircase that led upstairs, right next to it was the door that led to the living room. On the opposite side were the one that led to the kitchen.

"Who are all those people?" Emma asked Camael as she looked at the photos. Groups of people, men, women, children. Some of them wore modern clothes and others with outdated ones, clothes from another century.

"Your families, your friends." Camael said as he disappeared through the door under the stairs. Emma followed him. "At least, they were. A long time ago."

"They were? What happened?" Emma asked as she climbed down the stairs.

"Mortals have a really short span of life." Camael simply answered while he switched the lights on.

There was a bed in the middle of the room. Shelves on the walls with plenty of jars, most of them empty. Weapons hanging on the opposite wall. Emma walked up to the table, touched it as if it was going to hurt. But as soon as she touched it, she withdrew her hand. Horrible images assaulted her mind. A body thrashing around, somebody screaming to death and the pain. She felt the pain. It was short lived but it subsided. It felt as if someone or something has ripped out her insides. As if her soul was being torn apart. Tears have gathered into her eyes but she didn't know why. She stepped away from the table and looked around the room. Maybe there was a reason she was seeing these horrible images. There was a reason for Camael to have brought her here. And there it was. The bloodied white dress was lying in a chair, in the darkest corner of the room.

"This is where it all happened." Camael started as she took the dress in her shaking hands. "What you ask of me that day was the hardest thing I've ever done. I hated you for it. Most of all, I hated them. I hated our Father for doing nothing. I hated myself for agreeing to it."

"What did I ask you to do?" Emma asked shaking from head to toe.

"Help you hide."

"How?"

"You already know how." Camael lowered his head.

"That doesn't make any sense. Anna said…she said that…I didn't rip out my grace. That I just chose to forget with some kind of spells." Emma said confused her heart slamming against her ribcage.

"Rumors are easily spread. Stories change other times. Even amongst Angels." Camael replied.

"I don't understand." Emma sat down, tightening her hold on the dress. "Why don't I remember?"

"When Michael and Lucifer fought, you stood in the middle." Camael said. "You held your ground, you fought with bravery. You fought hoping for Father to stop this nonsense. He didn't. You were injured, almost died."

"You really need to stop doing this." Emmanuelle told them as Michael and Lucifer lunged at her.

She planted her sword in the ground and sent a wave of energy around her. Michael and Lucifer collided against it and were thrown away. She held her tongue as she pulled her sword from the ground. She knew now it was useless. They were determined to fight. There was nothing she could do to stop them, to reason with them. She had no other choice. She refused to watch her family being torn apart. She refused to obey her Father's orders. Not this time. She would stop it if she could or die trying.

They lunged at her again. Emmanuelle dodged Lucifer's sword, twirled around, blocked Michael's sword. She kicked Lucifer in the chest. She unsheathed her dagger and stabbed Michael's thigh. She then kicked his legs from under him and he fell on his back. Lucifer attacked her again. Emmanuelle dodged his sword as he was aiming for her head, she elbowed his back. Lucifer turned around and brought down his sword on her. She stepped quickly on the side, switched her hold on her sword. Her sword now downward, she kicked his leg, his knee bent. Then she kicked him in the face.

Michael sprang to her with his sword, she blocked the blow and punched him. He bent backwards and stabbed her with her own blade in the shoulder. She yelped and stepped back. That action was enough to give them both the upper hand. Lucifer slammed her body on the ground. Michael brought down his sword on her. Emmanuelle pulled out the dagger from her shoulder and slashed Lucifer's face before rolling away from Michael's sword. She got on her hands and feet, and got up as quickly as she could.

Michael and Lucifer kept coming at her, she dodged them, blocked their attacks. Her arms were slashed, so was her back and stomach. She could have used her powers, she was capable of so much more. She could have killed them here and then. But she couldn't. They were her brothers, she loved them. She wanted to stop them, not kill them. She did nothing. No matter what she said or did, they would still want to fight and kill each other. Michael would be obeying his father. Lucifer would be fighting back in spite. Both doing it out of love for their Father.

The final blow was given by both of them. Their swords ripping into her flesh and soul. The pain rippled through her body. She felt the iron taste of blood on her tongue. They withdrew their swords and Emmanuelle collapsed on her knees first, her blood streaming down her legs and flooding the floor. Then her body collided with the white tiles, her blood pooling around her. Neither Michael or Lucifer stopped their fight. They continued on, now that Emmanuelle was no longer in their way.

Emma grabbed her stomach where the swords have cut through. "You were barely breathing when I found you." Camael said. "Barely alive. Your soul as much as your body were torn apart." He looked up into her eyes. "I hid you for years. It took you decades to recover from your wounds. For your soul to be whole again. And during that time none of them tried anything against you. They left you alone."

"What did I ask you to do?" Emmanuelle asked him lowly.

"You wanted me to help you hide some more." Camael said. "You wanted to break all bounds that you had with Heaven, God and your brothers. For that you had to officially fell. But it didn't work as we expected." He took a deep breath.

"What happened exactly?" Emma asked him.

"The process of ripping out your grace almost killed you." Camael started to explain. "Ripping your grace was as if I was tearing apart your soul and I had to stop."

"So, I still have my grace?"

"Yes, you do." Camael nodded. "Your memory loss is a consequence of that and your light dimmed greatly. You were invisible, no one could see you. As much as I hate to admit it. It turned out for the best."

Her ears were ringing as she collapsed in the chair. The dreams, the memories were one thing. Knowing that she still has her grace was another. She didn't expect to find out so much in one day. She finally had answers to some of her questions. But it also means that most of her long life has been erased. And for what? She didn't know.

She dropped the dress and stood up. And without a word she walked back upstairs. Camael knew that it was a lot to swallow and yet he hasn't told her everything. He wasn't about to. She needed time to digest all of this, she needed time to herself. So, he left her alone.

She remained in the house. She took the stairs that led to the upper level of the house. There were three bedrooms, she ignored two of them and went directly in the master bedroom. It was decorated simply. A king size bed, with grey sheets, grey pillows and two small orange pillows. Two bedside tables, a lamp was sitting on both tables. The wall behind the headboard was of light orange and the walls of the room were painted grey. Again, in this room, there were photos of people she didn't know. They were on the walls, on the chest drawer opposite the bed.

She lied on the bed and curled up in a ball. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to feel. She just wanted to forget. Forget what she just learned, forget that she forgot. Forget that she has no idea what to do with her life. Her life was much simpler when she was a high school teacher. But what she now knew about her past, about what happened Michael and Lucifer, only made things more complicated.

Her night was plague with images of bloodied body thrashing, screams filled her ears and a man had his hand deep in her chest and another was holding her. The pictures were blurred, the words of the men drowned but the pain the woman was feeling was real. She felt it in her bones.

When she woke up, she was drenched in sweat. Dazed and confused, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Once she remembered, she disappeared in the bathroom. She had no memory of this place and yet everything felt familiar. She knew where the towels were, the clothes, the soap and the shampoo were new but where they should be.

Camael was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. He dropped a plate in front of her and sat across her. Emma simply played with her food, she didn't feel hungry.

"Are you okay?" Camael finally asked her.

She sighed and put her fork down. "No. I'm not." She looked at him. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know if I should go back to the Winchesters or try to trigger my memory." She leaned back in her chair. "I mean I wanted to know more about myself. More about my family. And all I found out is that I don't have a family."

"Hey!" Camael grabbed her hand over the table. "I'm your family. You got me."

Emma held his hand and smiled softly at him. "I know I can count on you." Her smiled faded. "I wish I knew what to do now."

Camael held up a finger and stood up. He reached at the top of the cupboard behind the kitchen's door. He withdrew a large box and came back at the table with it. He set it on the table in front of Emma.

"How about you open this box?" Camael suggested. "These are some keepsake you saved over the years." Emma opened the box while he kept talking. "Never quite understood why you did this but it helped me understand you better."

"You went through the box?" Emma raised her eyebrows.

"I needed to kill some time while you were…you know…unconscious." He stood up "I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you, Cam." Emma smiled and he patted her shoulder on his way out.

The box was filled with papers, letters, more photographs and several small tokens like jewelry, children drawings and poems. It was nothing of historical importance. It was important nonetheless. It was all about the relationships she has created with the people she had met in the past. Children that loved her and that she loved. Families she had no memories she had. Men that she had loved and married. She had lived a long life and several lifetimes. This box was filled with love and joy.

My lovely Nellie,

I do not care that you will never bear our children. Nellie, there's nothing in all the world I want but you and your precious love. Without you, I would be living a sordid and colorless existence.

Do not think of what you can't give me. You have already gifted me with the dearest of hearts and it's much more than anybody else in all the world has ever had.

Don't you think I was made for you? You had me ordered, I think. I was delivered to be worn by you. I want you to wear me, like a watch, a charm or a button hole bouquet to the world. And then when we're alone, I want to help—to know that you can't do anything without me…

All my heart—

I love you,

Your dear Andrew.

This was just the first of many others. Letters from husbands, lovers and children that have loved her and that she has loved. Her lives were fulfilled and plenty. She cried. Tears of regrets. Regrets that she could not remember those people, those lives, this unconditional love. Maybe one day, she would remember but until then she to live with this burden of knowing but not remembering.

Days, weeks went by in a blur. She hasn't recovered more souvenirs of a past life. She had an idea of who she was, she was less confused but confused still. Still unacquainted with herself. It was a burden to bear and to live with. On the other hand, she came to the realization that she couldn't remain hidden any longer. She didn't know what she was supposed to do, what was her plan but she'll figure it out as she go along. This led her back to the Winchesters. It rooted with them somehow and being with them meant being on the front line. It was the only way to know more about everything else.

"I need a car." Emma said when Camael visited her that day.

"What for?" Camael asked her.

"I'm leaving." She replied. "I've been running away for too long. It's time I face my problems, whatever they may be."

"Are you ready for this?"

"I feel ready." She shrugged. "Are you going to stop me?"

"No." He shrugged. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as I get a car."

"Alright, I'll find this for you."

"Thanks, Camael." She smiled. "I promise this is the last I ask of you."

"No problem." Camael retorted. "And I can promise you that's not the last."

Two more days and Camael kept his word. He came back to Emma with a convertible, red Camaro of 1969, with black stripes painted on the hood. Emma loved it immediately. Camael was absent when she left, maybe he was off to some other missions that he was on. She packed a bag with some clothes that were in her wardrobe. Blue jeans, t-shirts, flannel shirts and some sundresses. She made a last tour of the house, not knowing when she would ever be back and left.

She locked the door behind her, jumped in the car and left for Sioux Falls. She felt lighter as she left, less burdened and confused. Sure, she had questions still but she was satisfied with the answers she has gotten so far. That would be enough for now.

She made a few stops from Lawrence to Sioux Falls. To sleep, to eat, to get some gas but she was happy to see Bobby's house that night. For the first time ever, this felt like home. She was home.

"Bobby." She smiled when the latter opened the door for her. "I know it's late but…" She never got to finish what she was saying as she was pulled into a hug by Bobby. "Happy to see you, too."

"Come on." Bobby said pulling away and grabbing her bag. "You hungry?"

"No, I'm fine." Emma followed him inside. "Thanks, anyway." She looked around her. "Do you ever clean? I mean last time, I left with the boys, this place looked like a house."

"Don't really have time." Bobby replied in his gruff voice. "I've been doing some research on the apocalypse. You know the gist."

"Yeah, I do." She nodded. "Speaking of the Apocalypse, you've heard from the boys lately? I tried to call but looks like they changed numbers." Bobby remained silent. He stopped by the kitchen's door. "What? What's going on?" She heard the loud bangs coming from the basement and someone yelling. "What's that?" Bobby sighed deeply. "Bobby, are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

"It's Sam." Bobby finally said. "He's been drinking Demon's blood."

They knew.