Jack and Mary looked at me stunned when I said those words. I don't remember anything. They just… Questions flew from Jack quicker than I was prepared.

"Anything?"

"Yeah."

"Not even me?"

"No."

"Or Mary?"

"No."

"Or Sam or Dean?"

"No."

"What about Castiel?" The way he said the name, it sounded important. I shook my head again.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember anyone."

"But he," he was about to continue, but Mary cut him off.

"Jack. She doesn't remember." Mary stated. Her tone was firm, yet gentle. "Let it go."

"But she has to remember something, right?" He looked over at me again. I shrugged.

"I remember a gold color before I got here." I said. "And I think I remember something from a long time ago. Someone was talking to me, and dogs were barking." The thought made me shiver unconsciously. Whatever that memory had been of, it hadn't been good. "But other than that… I don't know. Everything I know about who I was is whatever Bobby told me."

"What did he tell you?" Mary asked, glancing over at the man.

"That I was a witch, and that… that I might've been married." I took a breath. "To an angel." I looked over from Mary to Jack. From the looks on their faces, those were both correct statements. "We don't really know much else. I'm good with angel blades. I can fight. I can run and hide. That's about it." I thought for a moment. "Who were those people that you named? Sam and Dean and, and Castiel." I felt excited for a moment. They were from the other universe. They knew me. They could tell me who I was. They could help fix me. "Are those people that I knew? Was I…" I thought. I remembered the look on Jack's face as he said Castiel's name, and how quick Mary had been to interject. "I… Castiel is the angel, isn't he?" I asked. Jack nodded.

"Yes." Jack offered me a smile. "He's my father." I felt my jaw drop. I looked over at Bobby, and saw he was shocked too.

"Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" I asked. He looked young, yes, but not so young to be my kid.

"Relax, Kylie." Mary assured me, seeing my shock. "He's not your son. Not biologically, anyways. It's all just a very long story."

"My mother was Kelly Kline." Jack said quickly, starting to catch on. "She's dead. Castiel is my father, but not my biological father."

"This sounds like a very long story." I muttered, rubbing my temples.

"I'll say." Bobby agreed, looking at the three of us. He looked around. People were starting to wander back. I could see it in his eyes. This was definitely a long story, but now wasn't the place to have it told or heard. There were others to work with, people to talk to and reassure. Bobby looked back at me, and I nodded.

"I got the kids." I promised.

"Take the other kid with you." Bobby told me, motioning to Jack. He nodded a little, offering the Nephilim a small smile. "He's good with them." Jack smiled widely, looking over at Mary for a moment before turning back to me.

"Come on, let's go gather the kids from the safe zone." I told him. "You can tell me about… about yourself." That was probably all I could handle at the moment. "Again." I added, realizing the oddity of the situation for him.

"That sounds nice." He agreed. I looked over at Bobby one more time, double checking to make sure that this would be OK. He offered me a small nod.

"I gotta talk a few things over with Mary anyways." Bobby assured me. "Go check on the children."

"Alright." I started walking, and after a moment's hesitation Jack followed me. He was quiet as he walked. He almost seemed uncertain as to what to say.

"You…" He finally spoke. "You really don't know me, do you? Or at least don't remember me?"

"No." I agreed. "I'm sorry."

"Do others know that you're not from this universe?"

"Not many. Just Bobby and a few trusted others."

"I should keep this information to myself, then."

"Probably."

"That makes sense." He thought for a few minutes. "You asked me to tell you things about myself. Do you wish to hear things about you as well?"

"Not now." I decided. "Not unless… Do you know why it hurt?" He knew what I meant. He shook his head.

"No. I wish I did. I would stop it from hurting." He sounded regretful. "I… I think it's my fault, though."

"Why?"

"I did something, when I first saw you." He explained. "You were dying. You had done a spell, and it was killing you. I stopped you from dying." He stopped for a moment, lost in thought. "I… I touched you. I pushed a… a something… I don't know how to explain it."

"It's OK, Jack. You don't have to."

"But I need to." He said. "It's important. It's why you hurt every time I do something with my powers. You told me magic was about intent, but I don't know what my intent was. I just know I didn't want you to die. Does that make any sense?" He looked at me desperately as he asked. I knew that when he looked at me in that moment, he wasn't looking at the person who didn't remember him. He was looking at me as the person I can't remember being, as someone he had asked that question many times.

He looked at me as the person he knew me as, not the person I was in that moment.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I think I do, but I don't think it's the type of understanding you're looking for." He looked sad at those words.

"I know." He said. "It's difficult to understand if you haven't done this before. I was lucky. I had someone that could explain my powers, or at least help me gain a better grasp on them."

"That sounds nice. Did Castiel do that with you?" I smiled kindly at him, encouraging him to walk once more. He just looked at me with a bittersweet smile.

"Some, but not at first." He told me. He took a small breath, then started walking again. "It's alright, though. We can talk about that at a different time. What would you like to talk about?"

"Tell me other things about you." I encouraged. "What do you like? What did you do in the other world?"

So, we talked. He told me about his father being another angel, but that Castiel had been the one to protect him so Castiel was who he considered his father. He also considered Sam and Dean to be a form of family, but to him the line was unclear between fathers or uncles. He would apparently never call either of them "Uncle Sam" or "Uncle Dean," because it would apparently be weird in his opinion. He liked solid chocolate with something called nougat and warm melted chocolate with small marshmallows; things that I had no recollection of ever even tasting. He liked pizza too.

He was learning how to control his powers and use them. He had a few things he had learned to help himself focus them, but the majority was mostly fueled by feel and what he needed or wanted done at the time.

He wanted to do good things. He was very clear on that. He liked helping people, and wanted to be the kind of man that Castiel would be proud of. He knew that if Castiel was proud of him, then Sam and Dean would be proud too. He wanted to be the best Hunter when he got back. The best one the world had ever seen.

He missed his mom, Kelly. She'd died giving birth to him. That was typical of Nephilim mothers, apparently. She left him videos on a computer that he had watched frequently. They were soothing to him. They reminded him that he was able to choose who he wanted to be. He didn't want to be bad.

He liked music too. He listened to a lot of classic rock from Sam and Dean. I wasn't certain what that was, but from what Jack explained it sounded somewhat similar to the type of music that one of the people in camp liked to play. They had a record player, and someone else had an old guitar. Besides that he liked some other music, but was still trying to figure out things on that. He said that if he told Dean he liked pop music, Dean would probably laugh at him.

He talked about things that I had no idea about. I thought my memory in terms of words and items was fine, but hearing Jack speak… I realized I had more just acclimated to what I had in front of me. I knew trees. I knew rocks. I knew war and ash and death. I didn't know chocolate. I didn't know television. I didn't know Scooby-Doo or Led Zeppelin or things like that. My ideas of fun were telling stories to the kids or sitting up in the trees.

It was odd to think about. The things he was talking about… they were things I knew I should know about. I was from the same world as him, after all. But they just… they weren't.

We gathered the kids up and brought them back, counting who was here and who wasn't. We had all of them, thankfully. I was worried some kids wouldn't make it. After we brought them all back, we headed back to meet up with Bobby and Mary. Jack was still talking, telling me about things that… well… I guess that he wanted to tell me. There were a lot of things he'd been wanting to tell me, I think.

"And I went to wake Dean up, because I was so excited to have a lead," he continued. I couldn't help it anymore. I had to interject.

"Jack," I said quickly. He stopped, looking at me with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to know." I said. "I… You knew me. You knew my life. You knew I was married to Castiel. I… I need to know about my life. I need you to tell me." Jack stopped, thinking it over.

"I want to tell you." He admitted. "I really do. But I don't know if I should."

"Why? Was I some sort of bad guy?"

"No!" He said quickly. "No. Not at all. You were – are – a good person. I just… If I tell you, all I'm doing is telling you things." He explained. "I don't know how you felt. I don't know what you thought. I don't know any of it. I want to tell you, but I don't know if I could explain it in a way that sounds like you, and not just words. Does that make any sense?"

I thought on that. He wasn't wrong. When I heard Bobby and Ellen and everyone tell me about the other Kylie, I had felt the love they felt for her. I had felt the friendship and longing pour out of them as they told me this girl's life. But… But I didn't remember any of it. I wasn't her. I was just being told the story of someone's life, someone that I wished I was or could make myself be. Would it be the same way if Jack told me about myself?

But what if hearing that made me remember?

"Try it with something small, then." I said. "To see if it helps me remember it myself."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then we'll go from there." I decided. Jack thought for a few minutes, picking a memory. I could see him smile faintly as he settled on one.

"You… You don't know it, but you taught me how to use my powers." Jack started.

"I what?"

"You taught me how to get control of what I can do; how to channel my intent into what I can do and make it my reality." He smiled a little. "You used to know how to do it too. You still remembered how it worked, sort of. You would wear a funny smile while you taught me. It was like you were remembering something I didn't quite know about." He smiled a little at that. "It was one of the days you were teaching me. Dean was gone on a case, so it was just you, me, and Sam."

"Where were we at?"

"The Bunker." I didn't recognize that name. "It's our home. I'll tell you about it more later." He promised. "You were trying to teach me how to move a pencil with my powers. You called it 'force push.'"

"Cool name. I must be good at that." I decided. Jack laughed a little.

"You were trying to help me, and I… I was afraid to keep trying." He admitted. "Using my powers hurt you then, too. You asked me why I wasn't trying, and called me out on it. I wanted to do it right, I really did, but… But I didn't want to hurt you. Trying scared me because I was afraid to keep hurting you. You left for a few minutes to go and get me hot chocolate." Jack smiled more. "You made me my first hot chocolate." He commented.

I still had no idea exactly what that was, what it tasted like, or how I made it. I had a feeling it would be sweet, though. I was certain I would like it.

"Was it good?" I asked. Jack nodded.

"Very." He complimented before returning to the memory. "You were gone for a little bit, and I could hear you and Sam talking. You didn't know it, but I went to listen. I was curious. Sam… Sam wasn't happy with how I was doing. He wanted me to learn faster. You were telling him that it wasn't easy. You said that… that you were proud of me." He was looking at me, and for a moment I could understand the expression he'd described me wearing when I remembered him. Like there was something he could see so clearly and remember, but I couldn't quite see it.

"You told Sam that I was doing my best; that learning magic was different for each person that tried to learn, and that it would be different for me too. You said that it was like learning to extend a part of me that I knew I could do, but didn't quite necessarily know how to do. You were supportive of me figuring it out. You… You sounded a little frustrated, but at the same time you were so patient and wanting to work with me. I got angry with myself. You told Sam you were proud of me, and I couldn't even move a pencil with my powers. I could open a hellgate and stop you from dying, but I couldn't move a stupid pencil." He muttered. "I got angry with myself and I… I moved the pencil." I looked over and smiled at him. He looked away sheepishly. "And accidentally teleported into the corner of the other room."

"You 'accidentally teleported?'" I asked. He nodded, hiding a shy smile. I laughed a little. "Alright. That's a thing. Sorry. Continue with your story."

"It's not my story, though. It's the both of ours. And Sam's. You and him ran in right afterwards. You both looked worried. I was worried because I knew it'd hurt you. I could see it on your face." He looked down at that. He felt… he felt guilty.

"But you didn't mean to hurt me." I told him. "It's not your fault that this is what happens."

"But it is." He said.

"How do you know?"

"I –" he stopped, thinking. "I just do." He muttered. "I can feel that it's my fault. I just can't remember why and what I did."

"If it makes you feel any better, I can't remember anything." I offered him a smile at that. Jack laughed too.

"That was a terrible joke!" He laughed. I couldn't help but laugh too.

"I know." I waited for the laughter to subside before I continued to ask. "Is there any more?"

"Yeah." He said. "There is. I don't know if it's right for me to tell, though."

"Why? I'm enjoying hearing this from you!"

"Do you remember anything?" He asked. I stopped, thinking for a moment. The expression on my face gave away the answer. "Does it sound like you're hearing your own history?"

"It…" I knew the answer. "It doesn't." I admitted. "I like hearing you talk. You sounded like the memory meant a lot to you. But… But you're right. It just sounded like you were telling me about someone else in your family that you cared about a lot."

"You are family, though." He promised. "I know you don't remember it yet, and that to you I just feel like a stranger. But you're family. You're my family. You're my family and that includes Dean and Sam and Mary." He looked so earnest as he spoke.

"I'm these peoples family too." I commented. "Bobby and Jo and Ellen and people you haven't even met yet." From the look on his face, I could tell he understood.

"That's OK." He promised. "That's good. It means you care."

"Thank you." We walked in quiet silence for a little bit. There was a question bothering me in the back of my mind. "Jack… I was a witch, right? Before you met me."

"Yeah."

"I taught you stuff, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did I… Did I teach you good things?" I asked. "Was I a good person about it?"

"Are you asking me if you were a good witch?" He asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess?" I asked. "I just… I don't know what kind of person I was. I know that I can't remember who I was, and that it probably won't help, but I just… I just want to know if I was a good person when you knew me." I requested.

"I asked you almost the same question." Jack replied. "I asked you if I was a good person."

"But you already knew that. You knew who you were. You knew what you were doing. You remembered your own past and you know yourself. You… you knew."

"My father is still Lucifer, biologically." He pointed out. "And I… I had done some bad things without meaning to. I wasn't certain if I could be good." He smiled a little. "I asked you if you ever wondered if you were evil."

"What did I tell you?"

"You told me you had."

"How did I find out the answer?" I asked. He laughed out loud.

"I asked you the same thing."

"Well, what did I say?" He may be laughing, but I… I felt a little more serious about that. I wanted to know how I would know. How did I answer that question for myself?

"You weren't certain." I stared at him in confusion. "No, literally. You said that you weren't certain. You told me it wasn't about being good or bad, because the world was a mix of the two. You told me it was just about me being me." He put a relaxed hand on my shoulder. "You told me to make what I wanted out of being me, and the mix of good and bad inside of me along with the rest of us. It was my choice, and my way to figure out how to do the best I can to make them." He liked what he was saying. I could see that. He thought that the words were good ones; that they were good advice.

I just wished it didn't sound like he was telling me about someone else giving him advice.

We met back up with Bobby and Mary not long later. The both of them looked like they felt odd, but just slightly more at ease.

"Well," Bobby commented, looking around the camp. "I can't believe it. We didn't lose anybody. Camp looks almost like nothing happened, save for some scorch marks and ash. I don't know what else to say except thank you."

"How are you doing, Kylie?" Mary asked. I shrugged, looking around. Bobby was right. Everything looked almost like nothing happened.

"I'm working through some things in my head, but all in all it's not bad." I decided.

"And your head?" Bobby asked.

"Pain is gone." I promised.

"Good." He smiled.

"Jack," Mary turned back to the Nephilim. "What you did was amazing."

"I had to come back." He said. "Sam and Dean, they wouldn't run. Castiel wouldn't have run. Kylie, you wouldn't have run then or now. Them, you… You all would stay and fight. And these angels, what they're doing," Jack shook his head. "They're not gonna stop. As long as Michael's out there, this war will never be over. Nobody will be safe."

"What are you saying?" Bobby asked.

"I have to kill him." Jack stated decisively. "I have to end this war. So that everyone can be safe. So that you all can have your lives back and not be hiding in fear."

"Jack, this isn't your fight." I told him. "You and Mary can go home. You can leave."

"We can't." Jack argued. "Not without you, and not without saving these people."

"Jack's right." Mary agreed. "We're not leaving until this is over."

"You guys need to get back before Michael gets a hand on you." Bobby said, glancing over at me. "Any of you."

"I'm not leaving." I stated firmly.

"Michael can't get a hold of you either." Bobby argued.

"Or you!" I pointed out. "Or anyone here!"

"Right." Jack agreed. "That's why I'm not leaving. Not until it's safe. For everyone."

We all looked around at each other. This argument could go in circles for hours. Jack and Mary weren't leaving until we were all safe. I wasn't leaving until everyone was safe. Bobby thought we should all leave, but then it'd just be him and everyone else in danger.

"Please, Bobby." Mary requested. "We can help." Bobby glanced over at me, and I shrugged.

"The only way I'm leaving is death or dragged out." I told him, my voice as firm as Bobby's could be. "I don't have anything I remember to go back to anyways."

"Fine." Bobby agreed, looking around. "In all honesty, we could use the help around here anyways." The four of us looked around at each other again. The choice wasn't a hard one for Bobby. He knew what Jack could do. He was comfortable with Mary being around. It was two extra mouths to feed and take care of, but they were also fighters and strategists. They were useful.

I just hoped that they could get back safely eventually.