"So tell me...what exactly are you...Jamie Cameron Winchester?" Ketch walked around the table towards the hunter. Jamie's head was down, her hands handcuffed behind her chair. "If you cooperate, we will spare your children. They'll be taken back to England, to be supervised, of course. Trained to be Men of Letters. As is their birthright."
Slowly she lifts her head, blue eyes gleaming. There are multiple bruises across her face. "You have to find them first." She hissed, a slight smirk playing at the curl of her lips.
Ketch presses his lips into a thin, annoyed line. "We WILL find them."
"How? You can't track Mark or Noah. And Emma...well...the ability to slip away without a trace is in her blood."
Ketch drops a file in front of her. It's labeled "Emma Winchester." "Yes, we're fully aware that...Emma is an Amazon." He opens the file to show Jamie. The paper reads "Emma Winchester. Known Aliases: Mary Emilia Winchester, Victoria Williams Date of birth: Unknown Age: Unknown Hair: Red Eyes: Brown Species: Amazon Parentage: Jamie Winchester (adoptive mother/unconfirmed), Dean Winchester (biological father)" Jamie eyes this for a moment before looking up. "But Amazons are little more then humans on steroids, are they not? Easily killed."
Jamie raises an eyebrow at this, but retains her stone expression. "Sure. But she's half Winchester."
"Hmm." Ketch sits down in the seat across from her. "And what about your sons? You are so careful to conceal the identity of their father. And it's their father that gives them their powers, isn't it. He's an angel. But it's not Castiel, is it? It's a different one."
Jamie scoffs, leaning back more comfortably in her seat. The light catches the pendant baring the effigy of Michael hanging around her neck. "My sons are Nephilim." She supplies.
"How did you survive their births? What is it that makes you so special?" He leans in closer. "What are you?"
Jamie pulls her arms free of the handcuffs, kicking the table into Ketch. His companions rush into the room, guns drawn. She throws her hands out, sending both of them sprawling into the walls, knocking them unconscious. Turning, she looks over her shoulder at Ketch, who is trying to escape from under the table. Slowly she walks over to him. "I am Jamie Cameron Winchester. I am the Other. And if you think for one moment you can threaten me, or Emma, or my sons, you are mistaken."
Ketch sighs. "Simulation failed."
The room is apparently a hologram. Jamie disappears, leaving only Ketch and the two other men. Ketch gets up off the floor. "Well that was unpleasant." He adjusts his tie.
"It may be easier to just elimate her outright, sir." one of the men supplies. "She's just like her brothers, unwilling to cooperate and extremely dangerous in the field."
"That she is, but she is only human."
"What if she isn't." The other man turns to Ketch. "Our information seems to confirm that her sons are indeed Nephilim. All our sources say Nephilim births are almost always fatal. And certainly a second birth is unheard of."
"The Winchesters have all cheated death multiple times, their sister is no different. Besides, she was raised by the Sisters of Mercy, an offshoot of ours. She has training and knowledge at her disposal. It's a shame, really. She would have been valuable to us."
"She has powers no mere psychic should possess." One of the men drops a file labeled "Jamie C. Winchester" on the desk. "Not just telepathy, telekinesis, and premonitions, but projection abilities, pyrokinesis. Not to mention her abilities as an exorcist. I still think she's a witch, if not a demon."
"A demon giving birth to a Nephilim? Are you serious, man?" Ketch shook his head.
"What if she herself is the angel? It would explain both her abilites and her survival of the births. And her ability to seemingly disappear..."
Jamie plucked Noah from his bath, wrapping him a yellow towel adorned with several ducks. He giggled, wiggling in her arms as she dried him off, laying him down on her bed. She dressed him in a pair of green pajamas and wrapped him in a simiarly colored blanket that had the antipossession symbol stitched into one corner. She moved the blanket until the corner rested over her son's heart.
"Mama?" Mark and Emma stood in the doorway, both wearing their pajamas. Emma held a book in her hand. "Read to us?" She asked quietly.
"In a minute." She replied, laying Noah in his crib. He started to fuss but she handed over his pacifer and he quieted. Turning back to her other children, she picked Emma up, holding her on her hip and gripped Mark's hand, leading them across the hall to their room.
She let Emma down and the red haired girl climbed into bed between rose colored sheets. Mark climbed into his bed and rolled over on his side, watching as Jamie sat down on Emma's bed and opened the book. She began to read, her voice drowned and tired, but continuing on until both kids were sufficently asleep. She got up, tucked Emma's covers tightly around her, kissed Mark's brow, laid a fresh salt line across the window ledge, checked the devil's traps under both beds, activated the protection wards on the door, and crossed the hall again.
She eyed Noah in his crib, adjusting the protection symbol mobile that hung above it, double checked the devil's trap hidden under the green shag rug beneath the crib, and finally collapsed into her own bed. She fingered the angel blade under her mattress, within quick reach and turned over unto her back.
There was another devil's trap painted on the ceiling, much more intricate, and framed with various other wards. It looked insane, she decided, but it kept her family safe. There was one ward in particular that she had made sure to place everywhere: Michael's sigil. It was carved into Noah's crib, and into Mark and Emma's bed posts. Mark and Noah both wore an iron version around their necks. She has it tattooed on her left wrist, her charm bracelet only partly obscures it.
Michael's broken lance rests above her bed. Well within reach. The handle mended, the runes restored. It was not an easy task, but one she managed with a little help from Crowley and Rowena. A gift from her brothers, a sign of acceptance, however begrudgingly. There's an effigy of him, a painting she has admired since childhood, and another thing taken from Ramiel by her brothers that hangs over the lance. She frames it in plain sight here in her bedroom because it keeps Michael close to her.
She allows herself to miss him.
In the morning there's a text from her mother, inquiring about the kids, mentioning finishing a hunt in Texas and then heading up to her location for a night, wondering if a late dinner wouldn't be out of the question. She replies that she'll order extra takeout.
There's an email from Sam asking for help with a translation that may contain details about Lucifer's offspring, or at least Nephilim in general. She works on it after cornpops are eaten, Mark and Emma shuffled off to school by Alex on her way to her classes, Noah content in his playpen with his stuffed bunny in hand and Little Bear on the tv. She sends the translation back to Sam with a note that there's nothing helpful but to keep looking. The diocese calls for help with a possible exorcism. She listens and quickly realizes the demon is actually a mix of bipolar disorder and cocaine. They pay her anyway.
Lunchtime brings a call from Dean. Does she remember the spell they used to summon Belthazar and wondering if it could be tweeked to summon Cas. She relays the spell but tells him Cas is fine, just off the radar. He asks about the kids. She tells him they miss him, especially Emma. He promises that he and Sam will drop by sometime soon. Noah calls him "Dada" when she holds the phone out so Dean can talk to him and asks "Dada play wif me?"
She helps Mark with first grade math homework after dinner. Tells him to imagine a room full of eight demons, and if his Dad and Uncle Sam shoot two, there's only six left. Only six. He catches on quickly. Emma's drawn a djinn in preschool art class. She praises the use of blue and sticks it on the refrigrator. She says a silent prayer that the teacher thought it was cookie monster.
Her mother arrives well after the kids are in bed. She's wearing black yoga pants and a long sleeve gray t-shirt when she arrives, and already has leftover Chinese in the microwave. They sit on the couch and talk about the kids until it's clear they're both tired. Her mother is leaving at first light, and she has to get up to get the kids off to school again in the morning. Mary remarks how proud she is that she has a relatively normal life. She replies that it's not normal, just looks that way.
When she's in bed, the lights off and the wards activated, she misses Michael.