Between Heaven & Hell Chapter 6: I Believe The Children Are Our Future, a supernatural fanfic

AN: Holy crap this was like 60 pages when all was said and done! Sorry it took so long :D Hope you enjoy it!

Hearts are worn in these dark ages
You're not alone in this story's pages
Night has fallen amongst the living and the dying
And I try to hold it in, yeah I try to hold it in

The world's on fire and
It's more than I can handle
I dive into the water
(I try to bring my share)
I try to bring more
More than I can handle
(Bring it to the table)
Bring what I am able

I watch the heavens and I find a calling
Something I can do to change what's coming
Stay close to me while the sky is falling
Don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone

I BELIEVE THE CHILDREN ARE OUR FUTURE

1 week earlier
Chapel
El Dorado, Kansas

Beth's POV

Haunted. There was no other way to describe it. I was being chased down by a future that hadn't even come to pass. I knelt on the hard, wooden floor beneath me and fingered the rosary in my hands. Comforted by the familiarity of the worn beads, they slipped through my fingertips as I recited yet another prayer for guidance.

Shadows played on the plain white walls, the perfect canvas for the spread wings of the Archangel Michael statue before me. I wasn't praying to him, I couldn't; if I did he would hear and he would come for Dean. I prayed to God, I prayed to Sariel and Castiel, because there was no one else to put my trust in. I prayed to Ezekiel but there was no reply, a part of me felt empty and saddened at his absence. Was he even alive?

An ordinary person wouldn't have heard the opening and closing of the door, or the soft steps that crept up on me. I wrapped my free hand around the butt of my glock, deftly flipped the safety as I waited. I'd given no other sign that I'd heard their entrance, a civilian would not have even noticed my subtle shift to attention.

The hair on the back of my neck pricked up, I tensed, taking the rosary in a defensive grip. If it was anything that suffered from iron or salt, I was ready: fortunately the moon was all wrong for werewolves - and they weren't exactly known for hiding their approach to a victim.

I let out a long slow breath, prepared to move, my knees protested from the length of time I'd spent in one place on the hard floor. I ignored them, pushed the pain to the back of my mind. One...two… three. I sprung, landed on my feet and swung around. My gun pressed into the squared chest of my hunter.

"You still got it," Dean said with a grin, I dropped the gun to my side with a scowl, clicked the safety back on.

"I could have shot you."

"You knew it was me."

"I was 98 percent sure," I countered, my eyes narrowed even though he knew I wasn't angry.

"I like those odds," he replied with a carefree shrug of his shoulders. He grinned, sought out my forgiveness, knowing it was already given.

I sighed, dropped back into the pew, leaned heavily against the back. "Just the same…" my voice trailed off, Dean nodded thoughtfully at the unspoken consequences of sneaking up on an armed person.

"What's going on with you?" He took a seat next to me, turned concerned green eyes toward my face.

"Nothing."

It was the same reply I'd given him for the last few weeks. It wasn't true, but how did you tell someone you were running from an event that hadn't even happened?

"You're a terrible liar," Dean countered, reached a warm hand up to caress the side of my cheek, slid it under my hair and laced his fingers through my thick locks. It was a comforting warmth and I closed my eyes, allowed it to permeate the chill that had been my constant companion since we had returned from 2014.

I released a slow breath, contemplated. I'd rehearsed for weeks now, not sure how my fears would sound. I fought with my feelings, leaned into his touch.

"I couldn't live if I broke you," I said finally.

"Come again?"

"Us, Dean...you, and me. We've been doing this together for so long. Sam is right, it's dysfunctionally co-dependant. But I don't care. Because the alternative is worse. Seeing … you… and how you were because I died…" I knew it was irrational, that we would make every effort to ensure that the future we'd seen would not come to pass, but it held tight to me like an ivy vine climbing a redwood, slowly choking the life from it.

"Beth, nothing is going to happen to you," Dean promised, there was a hesitation in his voice that made me look up. Although he tried quickly to hide it, I saw the flash of fear before he tucked it safely behind a mask of calm.

"We don't know that," I whispered.

"I do," he replied. "I know that nothing is going to take you from my side, not while I still draw breath. We know what is supposed to happen, we know how to stop it. Hell, we're already changing things by bringing Sam back in. We're tired, Beth, that's all. We need some rest."

There was more, I didn't know how to voice it. I opened my mouth, no sound came out as I choked back a few breaths.

"Hey…" Dean moved, strong arms placed me in his lap, wrapped around my waist. I buried my nose into his neck, took deep calming breaths. He had always smelled like Christmas morning, the scent instantly put me at ease as much as his words, "I've got you."

I smiled, remembered how he'd said those exact words to me the day he and his father had saved me. "I know," I whispered.

Present Day
Lexington, Nebraska

Beth's POV

"So…" Sam flipped through the couple of news reports I'd printed off at the local internet cafe, absently chewed on his bagel and cream cheese. "What's with this job?"

I looked up from the laptop, it sat on the worn but clean surface of a crappy little booth we were crammed into. There was doubt in his eyes that I was starting to feel deep inside my very bones.

"Girl mauled to death in a locked house?" I asked with a tilt of my head. He nodded and I raised my hands up like claws, growling. "Rarrrr! It's our thing Sammy," my voice grew dismissive, "we've looked into less."

Dean had sold me on the case a few hours earlier, reflecting on how we needed something other than Lucifer and the Colt to distract us for a few days. I'd given in after he'd cornered me in the shower with soapy hands. Sam wasn't as easy to convince.

"Yeah, definitely, uh, but, uh, we got bigger problems, don't you think?"

"I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back," Dean replied around a mouthful of pancake. He munched loudly, the sloshing sounds of the pastry mixing with hot maple syrup.

Sam seemed to carefully ponder his reply as Dean groaned his pleasure of the food before him. "Right, yeah, but I mean, if—if the Colt is really out there somewhere…"

Dean threw his fork down, the clatter of it hitting the porcelain plate echoed in the diner and stopped Sam mid-sentence. "Hey, we've been looking for three weeks, we got bupkis."

"Okay. But Dean...I mean, if we're gonna…" Sam lowered his voice, looked around to see if we'd drawn any attention, added "...ice the Devil."

Dean snapped. "This is what we're doing! Okay? End of discussion." His tone said it all, sounded a lot like John's had when we were teens. The effect wasn't lost on Sam who sat back, looked out the window. He fought with his emotions, then pulled himself together with a sigh. I felt Dean's posture relax beside me, his keen observation noted Sam's frustration.

"It's just that this is our first real case, back at it together. You know, I, I think we ought to ease into it, put the training wheels back on." Dean's tone was softer, placating. He wasn't trying to pick a fight, he was desperately trying to get Sam to see that we were in need of a change, to escape the Apocalypse for a while. While he'd been out for the last few months, we'd been in the thick of the fight, up to our armpits in blood, sweat and sometimes tears trying to find our way out of the hole. Sam had a vacation, we did not.

"So you think I need training wheels?" Sam's defensiveness sprung into full throttle. Dean sighed, I sipped on my latte and watched him try to avoid the train wreck.

"No, we. We need training wheels," he emphasized. "You, me, Beth. As a team. Okay?" Sam looked dubious, but nodded. "Man, I really want this to be a fresh start, you know? For all of us," Dean said, his tone honest.

They stared at each other, unspoken understanding passing between the brothers. Sam nodded again. "Okay."

Several Hours Later
Motel
Alliance, Nebraska

Beth's POV

The headaches were worse after a long drive. Something about being cooped up in the car, the road racing underneath that highlighted things were not quite right upstairs. The local radio station had started to play polka diddies and I clicked it off with a groan. That wasn't going to help the full swing angel radio going off in my head. I stepped out of the car, stamped my feet to get the blood flowing again, and tried to shut off the ringing in my head.

It had started a week ago. In the past I'd been able to shut it down with meditation, pushing it to the back of my mind like white noise. It had never been enough to completely turn it off, but had given some respite. Now I felt like a fog horn was going off on a regular basis, and it was only getting worse as the days wore on. I pulled out my phone, entered the passcode and texted Castiel. I needed more Heavenly help than I wanted to admit.

I moved to put the phone back in my pocket, sunlight flashed off the screen and sent a dagger of pain oscillating through my skull. I flinched, Dean saw it as he returned to the car. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, rubbed a hand across my temples. "Yeah, just a headache, nothing serious. You get a room?"

Dean dangled the key in front of my nose from his index finger. "Number 12."

"Great," I smiled. "I think I'll have a rest while you two check out the morgue."

"Now I am worried," Dean commented, eyes flicked to the back seat where Sam was sitting. Was he seeking backup from our brother who had his nose buried in his computer? He turned back to me, his expression open and concerned. I reached a hand up and placed it against his cheek, smiling at the love I saw etched into his candy apple eyes.

"It's nothing," I placated. "We've just been running on empty, you know? I might have a nap."

"You sure?"

"You won't be gone long, I'm fine." My comments didn't seem to convince Dean, who put his hand over mine, holding it to his face. "Seriously, I'm fine."

"We're not supposed to split up, remember?" Dean said quietly, a flash of something more than concern crossed his eyes. His words weighed heavily in the air between us, laden with fear of what may come.

Summoning up my amused look, I grinned and shook my head at him. "I don't think he meant we had to be attached at the hip 24/7, Dean." He chuckled, a glint of concern still buried in gold flecks inside his eyes.

"You have such cute hips though." His playboy facade was back in play, the worry shoved back behind the careful mask we'd perfected decades ago. I laughed, wrapping his hands around my waist and leaned forward to kiss his nose. Sam stuck his head out of the car window, cleared his throat."What are you two talking about? Are we going?"

Dean stared into my eyes, replied "yeah, Beth's staying here." "Really? Why?"

"I need a rest."

"Seriously?" Sam's voice pitched slightly higher than usual, giving away his surprise.

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "Seriously. Geez guys, I don't think we need three FBI agents covering this. I'm going to have a long, hot shower." Dean contemplated this, a slightly amorous look climbing into his eyes. I kissed his cheek and nipped at his earlobe, earning a light groan. I could almost hear Sam's eyes roll to the back of his head before he pulled himself back in the car.

"When we get back we'll go out and get something to eat, nice little diner down the street," Dean promised, my stomach churned at the thought of food, the pounding behind my eyes seeming to get faster. My appetite had been rapidly on the decline since the headaches had started, and I wasn't sure I could keep down a coffee, let alone actual food, but I didn't want him to worry.

I smiled. "Sounds great, now go!" I slipped the key from his hand, grabbed my bag from the trunk and waved goodbye as they drove down the road toward the morgue.

"You haven't told them?" I wasn't surprised by the appearance of our own guardian angel. He'd landed as soon as the boys were gone from sight.

"No. They have enough to worry about." I walked the few yards across the parking lot to the downstairs motel room, turned the key in the lock. Castiel followed as I entered, tossing my bag at the foot of the closest bed. Light flooded the room as he flipped the switch by the door.

"What's happening?" Straight to the point.

"Nothing I've felt before," I could skip formalities too. "It's like… I don't know. Like I'm being sought out. It's not voices, like when I hear your line, I have been able to close that off. But this… it's like bells ripping through my head at the most unexpected time. I keep waiting for the sound to find me… it doesn't even make any sense."

The angel's brow furrowed. "The Bells of Heaven." I looked at him expectantly, questioned what he'd said. "Like echolocation. If you are looking for a soul, the bells can be sounded, and when it finds the soul, it returns a sound to the bells, giving the Legion a bearing. But I've never heard of it being used on a living being." Not for the first time I wondered how ignorant I was of all these Heavenly tools.

"Can it work?" Obviously someone, likely Zachariah, thought it could.

"In theory. But, your soul would have to be out of your body, you'd need to be close to dying," Castiel replied. I contemplated, glanced at the bed next to me.

"Or sleeping?"

Castiel nodded. "Maybe. Souls have been known to leave the body and travel when asleep. But that wouldn't lead them to your body."

"Maybe they've found a way to track the soul, back to my body?" I didn't enjoy the prospect of that in the slightest.

"This is bad," Castiel announced from a pinched expression.

I stifled a yawn, already tired from the long car ride to get here. "Cas, what am I going to do? I can't not sleep!"

"I need to speak with someone, get some advice. In the meantime, I suggest you stay awake as much as you can." I didn't have time to reply, he vanished right in front of my eyes. The small room, home to two doubles and a table with two chairs, started to close around me. I stepped back from the moving walls, stumbled over my bag, landed on the mattress. It was the only soft thing in the room. I cursed, a yawn broke my mouth. This wouldn't do. "Great…" I muttered under my breath. Suddenly I wished I'd gone with Dean and Sam.

Morgue
Alliance, Nebraska

Dean's POV

"So what's going on with Beth?"

I smirked, surprised Sam had been able to contain his curiosity in the ten minute drive across town. I was glad I wasn't the only one who had noticed Beth's offbeat behaviour.

"I don't know man, but she's hiding something." I took the steps up to the front of the morgue two at a time. Sam didn't even have to try to keep up, his long legs climbing with me steadily.

"She's been pretty jumpy since you guys went through… whatever it was." Sam still struggled with our story about 2014. None of us had a name for it. I'd been giving it some thought.

"Our shitty version of Timecop?" I asked, pulled the door open and waited for him to enter first.

Sam smiled, shook his head. "Yeah."

"Well, she found out she dies before we fix anything, can you blame her? I replied, followed him into the interior of the building. It was dark, grey, and cold. Just like every other morgue in America.

"But, we're already changing history," Sam said, fell into step beside me as I led us down a corridor. "You guys brought me back in."

"Yeah, we did."

"That should be enough, right?" Sam looked anxiously at me, big brown puppy dog eyes imploring me to say yes. I couldn't give him any reassurances, I wasn't convinced myself.

"I don't know, dude," I muttered, shook my head. "All I know is we gotta keep fighting. We can't give in." I reached the reception desk, held my fake FBI badge up at the closest person who looked like they had some clout.

"Agents Page and Plant, FBI," I announced to a man in a white lab coat. He looked unintimidated by the badges, I noted this with the ease born of years reading people: doctor.

"Gentlemen," he nodded, pushed his glasses back on his nose. "What brings you by?"

"We need to see Amber Freer's body," Sam said.

"Really? What for?"

"The police report said something clawed through her skull?" The doctor frowned at us, took a step behind the desk toward a table with filing trays. He picked up a file from the tray marked for archiving.

"You didn't read the autopsy report that I emailed out this morning?" He asked, handed the thin manila folder to Sam.

"W-we had, uh, server issues," Sam replied, his answer seemed to satisfy the man. He turned, walked through a pair of swinging doors into the interior room. I didn't wait for an invitation, led the way with Sam close behind. The doctor flipped a latch on a nearby freezer and pulled out a slab, pulled back the sheet covering the young teenager's body.

"When they brought her in, we thought she was attacked by a wolf or something," he announced. We had wondered that too, although the moon phase was wrong for werewolves, and she wasn't missing her heart. Didn't mean there wasn't some other nasty creature with claws lurking in the shadows.

"Or something," I echoed, locked eyes with Sam.

"But we were wrong," the doctor continued, picked up a plastic bag from beside the body, dangled it before us. Sam leaned in, squinting at the small object encased inside. "Is that a….?"

"It's a press-on nail. We found it in her temporal lobe," the doctor supplied. Sam leaned away from the nail, eyes narrow, contemplative. I picked up on his body language.

"Is that even possible?" I asked. "Are you… you saying that she did this to herself?"

"Uh-huh," nodded the doctor. "She scratched her brains out. It'd take hours, and it'd hurt like hell, but sure—it's possible."

"How?"

"Pick your acronym—OCD, PCP. It all spells crazy," he replied. Sam pulled the sheet back a little further, examined the right hand which was missing a press-on nail from the middle finger. The side of her head looked like it had a bite taken out of it, thick dark hair matted with dried blood.

"My guess, some kind of phantom itch," commented the doctor. "I mean, an extreme case, but…"

Sam sounded skeptical. "Phantom itch?"

"Yup." The doctor covered Amber once more, slid the slab back into the freezer. The door clicked closed with a finality that send a shiver down my spine. "All it takes is someone talking about an itch—or thinking about one, even—and suddenly you can't stop scratching."

I fought it. The mere suggestion played with my subconscious. Sam spoke, "thanks, doc." He turned, scratched under his collar. I waited until they walked ahead of me before I gave in, scratched the itch behind my ear like I was a dog with fleas.

1 week earlier
El dorado, Kansas
Motel Gym

Dean's POV

Beth had fallen asleep, finally. She'd complained about headaches again today, I was silently worried. The hotel we'd booked into was a little more high end, I wanted to give her somewhere comfortable to rest. I was taking advantage of the gym, working out my frustrations.

I clipped the punching bag, sent it rocking away from me. As it swung back to me I leaned in, hit it harder, and rocketed the bag away again. One, two, three. Repeat. I moved my feet into the mix, kicked, kneed, danced around the soft leather that had seen a lot of abuse over the years. Sweat beaded on my forehead, ran down my face and I swept it out of my face with the hem of my shirt, stopped for a breather.

Zachariah's experiment of sending us into the future, to see our fates, sat heavily with me. There were things Beth had experienced while there, I knew she was hiding. I felt like I had tiptoed around the issues since our return, and after I found her in the chapel this evening, I knew I was going to have to broach the topic of our future soon.

I seethed just below the surface. I threw a few more punches at the bag, cursed when my knuckles started to bruise. I leaned against the leather, panting.

"Want me to spot?" Sam's voice sounded from the door and I glanced in his direction, seeing him move to the free weights.

"Nah, I'm good," I might have agreed with Beth that he had to be brought in, that didn't mean I wasn't still angry at our situation, furious at Sam for what he and Ruby had done to us, I was barely holding it together.

"You guys seem really wound up," Sam commented, taking a seat on the bench press. I sighed, grabbed the towel I'd tossed over another machine nearby, wiped my forehead again.

"Been a rough few weeks."

"Which, you still haven't filled me in on," Sam pointed out. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. This conversation was always going to happen. I had no idea what Beth had told him, but it sounded like it wasn't much.

I sighed, grabbed the bottle of water next to me and drank half of it in one go. With a gasp, I shook my head to clear it and then moved to sit near him.

"Hard to get into really." I didn't want to, more to the point.

"Try me."

I glanced at my watch. I'd been gone almost thirty minutes, cursed myself. "Walk with me," I said, led the way out of the gym and back to the rooms upstairs. Sam had the adjoining room, I waved my hand for him to open the door to his room, moved to the doorway separating our rooms and slid it open.

Beth was fast asleep, curled up to my pillows. I smiled, turned back to Sam who was watching without comment.

"She had died, man," I said. I cracked open a beer from the fridge, took a seat on an armchair. "Just like that, gone. And... " I could barely say it.

"And?"

I narrowed eyes at my little brother. "We had a child. A daughter."

"Wow," Sam's mouth fell open.

"Yeah."

"What did Beth say?" I shook my head at the question.

"What do you think? She fell apart. Spent a whole night there with the kid, and the other … me." I didn't go into how Cole had beat me at our drinking checkers game, that was just embarrassing. "He was… broken. I don't know. I can't even think about it."

I filled him in: how in that future I'd never reconnected with him, and he'd given in to Lucifer and become his vessel. Sam denied that could ever happen. I couldn't fathom a time where he would agree to that, even with how angry I was at him, but I had seen it with my own eyes. I was quietly stewing on this knowledge.

"I don't know what to say," I shrugged, finished my beer.

"Have you guys talked about the baby?" Sam asked. My brow furrowed, his words weighed heavily on my heart.

"Not yet." I knew it was coming, it had to, but I wasn't ready. I didn't know how to broach that. We'd given up our chance at a family when we went looking for Sam, when we agreed to help stop Lucifer. Our future had been put, permanently I feared, on hold the day Sam killed Lilith.

"Well, don't you think you should?"

"And say what?" I stood, paced the room. "What am I supposed to tell her, Sammy? That we have a future? That we can plan for a child, maybe more? Look at our lives! I can't promise her I will pull through this, let alone live to have children."

"You know her," Sam pointed out. "You know she will be dwelling on this."

I glanced back at the room, the door I'd closed after I checked in on her. "I know." I suspected it was the other topic weighing so heavily on her mind, when I found her in the chapel tonight. I hadn't the heart to ask then, I felt my pulse start to race thinking about it now.

"Well, how do you feel about it?" Sam asked. I turned, sank down on the end of his bed with a loaded sigh.

"I hate this, Sam. Heaven, Hell, Michael, Lucifer, running from angels and demons, monsters. How did Dad even do it? I don't want to do that to our kids, man. Beth deserves better, she should have a house, somewhere to put down roots, like her parents with her. Something we didn't get." I fell silent, looking down at my hands, the near empty beer bottle dangled from my fingers.

"Staying in one place didn't keep her any safer than it did with us moving around," Sam pointed out. He had a point, if anything it meant that when the demons came for her mother, they were easier to find.

"Yeah, but it's better than what we had."

"You remember what it was like? Having a home?" Sam's voice was quiet.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I do, and you didn't get that. Yet, that's all you wanted - it's inside us, whether we had it or not."

"Yeah…" Sam agreed. He stared at the floor, lost in thought. I knew he had to be thinking about Lilith, and everything that had transpired since then. He knew that he'd pulled us back in, and look where it got us. We'd been happy. "Dean…"

"Don't say it," I cut in. "We can't change what happened."

"But…"

"Sam. Don't," I stood, shook my head as I put the now empty bottle in the trash. "I will deal with Beth, like I always do. We just need to focus on the future, and killing Lucifer, so I can give her that future. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Sam conceded. I looked at him, noted that defeated slump to his shoulders. I knew he was beating himself up over this, really wanted to redeem himself for jump starting the Apocalypse. He wasn't alone in carrying that guilt.

"We'll fix this, Sam, I owe it to all of us." I said. Sam looked up at me, frowned. I wanted to tell him… to voice what Alistair had told Beth and I, that I was responsible for starting this shindig, but I heard a cry next door and ran.

Beth was wide eyed, sitting in the middle of the bed when I entered. She'd left the light on for me, I climbed straight across the comforter, took her in my arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Bells," she muttered. "And… and I don't know. Something was looking for me, is looking for me, Dean."

"Shhh, shhh, it's just a dream," I rubbed her back, reveled in the way she pressed her body into mine, buried her face in the crook of my neck. Sam's shadow fell across the bed, and I looked up at him. "No one is going to hurt you, we're here, both of us, we've got you."

Present Day
Victim's Scene of Death

Dean's POV

Sam took point, leading the way up the narrow pathway to the house where we'd parked. "So, Amber was babysitting a kid here. The parents came home, found her on the couch dead."

I grimaced, glanced around the yard. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Soon enough we were in the living room with the parents, John and Francine. Sam took the armchair, I was restless so stayed standing, hovered behind the couch. John glanced behind at me, Sam distracted him. "Okay. Okay, now, some of these questions might seem a bit odd, but please just bear with me," he said. I saw Francine nod, Sam continued. "Have you noticed any cold spots in the house?"

"Uh...no," John replied, shook his head.

"Okay, uh, what about strange smells?" Sam asked. I looked around a corner and found a kid sitting in the kitchen.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" He asked. I figured this had to be the kid Amber had been babysitting.

"Don't know yet," I replied, stepping up to him. "It's, uh, Jimmy, right?" Nod. "So, Amber was your babysitter?" Another affirmative, this time voiced. I nodded, thought back to the days when it had just been Dad, Sam and I on the road. "Yeah, most of my babysitters sucked." I chuckled. "Especially Ms. Chancey. She only cared about two things: Dynasty and bedtime."

The kid looked at me blankly and I sighed, instinctively looking around for Beth. She got my humour, she would have laughed. I cleared my throat, looked back at the kid. "Did you, uh, you see anything strange that night?"

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably, glanced at his feet. "No, sir."

"You sure about that?"

"I—I would tell you if I knew something," he insisted. I tossed him my best disbelieving look and he blanched. "I promise. One hundred percent. Cross my heart." I couldn't believe this kid, he lied worse than Sam. I looked over my shoulder, knew this was a bit risky, decided to do it anyway.

"Well, Jimmy, I, uh...I happen to know you're lying," I said. Jimmy shook his head. "I'm not."

I leaned down, placed my hand on his shoulder and applied a small amount of pressure.

"We gonna start talking truth, or are you and me gonna have to take a little trip downtown?" That got him.

Short While Later
Nursing Home

Beth's POV

I'd been pacing the motel room when the call had come across the police scanner. A short walk later, I was sporting a slurpee sized coffee from the 7-11 across the street, and a snappy pants suit to match the fake badge I flashed at the doctor when I arrived.

"Officer," he acknowledged, looked curiously at the cup.

"Long day," I shrugged. "What happened?"

The doctor gestured nowhere in particular. "Guy got electrocuted."

I sipped on my coffee, looked at him curiously. "Any idea how?" I already knew that had happened, this guy wasn't giving me anything.

"Eh, maybe a loose wire or a piece of equipment shorted out. So far, we haven't found anything," the doctor replied.

"Witnesses?" I asked.

The Doc nodded, tilted his head toward a room behind me. "Yeah, guy in there - Mr. Stanley." I glanced back at the door, an old man sat in a chair in the room, looking out the window ."He says he saw it, but he's not making a lick of sense. Senile."

I nodded, contemplated how any of us would sound if sat down in front of an actual psychologist, and decided I'd be the judge of senility. "Thanks."

He nodded and left, I turned back to the room contemplated the absurdity that was my life, and wondered why I was looking into an electrocution. Why was this any different to any other death in town? Something had told me investigate … I took another sip of coffee. Okay, so it could have been a random car accident and I would have thought about coming for a look, but the "this is an odd one," statement from the police had caught my attention.

"Hey," Dean's voice sounded behind me, I spun around and smiled at the sight of Sam and him coming through the double doors. "What are you doing here?" He rested his hand against my lower back and I leaned back into his touch. "I thought you were resting?"

"Got restless. Heard the call on the scanner, thought I'd check it out," I said. "What did you guys find out at the morgue?"

"Oh, weird one," Dean said, holding up a packet of itching powder. "Kid said he put this on the babysitter's hairbrush." I frowned, took the packet and turned it over in my hands. "Girl scratched her own brains out."

"But… there's no way itching powder could do that… it's just ground-up maple seeds," I said, looking up at the brothers.

"If you have any other theories, I'm open to 'em," Dean said. I took a sip of my coffee, licked my lips, and shook my head. Sam watched me, a crease to his forehead. He dropped an inquisitive look to the super sized coffee cup in my hand.

"Uh, bit overkill on the coffee, don't you think?"

I looked at the cup, contemplated the consequences of falling asleep, and returned his look with a shrug of my shoulders. "Yeah, no. Not really."

"That's like the mother of all coffees," Dean chimed in. I narrowed my eyes at the them both, well aware that it wouldn't take long for them to start with the nagging about my health.

"I'll explain later, we got more important things to look into," I inclined my head toward the room. "We got a witness."

Sam followed my line of sight, squinting at Mr Stanley. "Yeah?" I nodded.

"He saw the whole thing," I said. Dean cleared his throat beside me, grasped my arm.

"Sam, go talk to him," he ordered. For a moment it looked like Sam was going to argue, just for the sake of not wanting to be told what to do, but the body language obviously told him to can it. Sam nodded and walked away as Dean pulled on my arm, led me to the foyer.

"What's going on with you? Since when do you drink coffee like a fish?" He asked, the concern evident in his eyes.

I bit my lip, shook my head. "Dean…"

"No, enough, no more protecting me," he said. I looked at him, narrowed my eyes, thought about arguing. "We need to talk, Beth. We've been dancing around this discussion since… well since we got back, and I don't think for a moment that what you told me last week was the whole story. I just don't want to push you. But… you gotta talk to me sugarpie."

I felt hot, salty tears prick at my eyes, sipped at my coffee once more and then lamented that it was empty. I sighed.

"Zachariah is looking for you," I spat out. Dean smirked, looked at me with slight incredulity.

"Well babe, that ain't news."

"Yeah, well they have a new, torturous, technique," I commented.

"Torture? Huh?" His expression flickered between concern and anger, hands gripped both my arms as he looked into my eyes. I swallowed hard. My lips were so dry, I felt as if I wanted to throw up all the coffee I'd just swallowed. I hadn't slept in about twenty-four hours with the overnight drive, and it was definitely starting to creep up on me. For the last week, I'd been lucky to sleep a few hours a night - frankly I was surprised Zachariah hadn't already found us. "Beth…" Dean's warning tone brought me back to the present.

"Yeah, okay. Okay," I nodded. I reached down, put the coffee cup on the table next to us. I straightened and slid my hands along his hips, grasped the fabric of his suit jacket, wished it was his t-shirt. "For the last week I've been hearing these… bells… in my head. Cas said it's a way they can find lost souls in Heaven."

"That's where these headaches are coming from?" I smiled, nodded. I had forgotten how closely he watched me, even when I was trying to hide what was going on with me. It shouldn't be a surprise that he'd been in tune with the pain I'd been suffering.

"It's like… constant. And now… we're lucky they haven't found us already. But Cas said I shouldn't sleep, just to be sure." Dean's hands tightened on my arms, gave away his thoughts.

"To be sure of what?" He asked, unhappy.

"That they can't track my soul," I said. He swallowed, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Which they can do … if you sleep?"

"Or die. So yeah, probably shouldn't do that either," I said with a chuckle. My attempt at humour fell on deaf ears.

"Haha. Funny," Dean deadpanned. I blinked, the tears I'd fought earlier returned. I shook my head to clear them.

"I'm so tired, Dean," I almost whimpered. He expelled a frustrated breath, pulled me into his arms.

"I know. God dammit. Nothing gets easier, does it?" He asked, squeezed me tight against him. "Where is Cas?"

"Looking into it," I murmured. I breathed deeply of his scent and it made me sleepy. I smiled again, wrapped my arms tighter around him. "I just have to, stay awake until then." I suppressed a deep yawn as I closed my eyes; all I wanted to do right now was lie down in Dean's arms and let the rest of the world fade away.

"Great…" Dean muttered. I felt his posture change, and looked over my shoulder as Sam approached.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, though, we're going to need more of an explanation about these bell things…" Dean nodded, I pulled away reluctantly, picked up my empty coffee cup and looked for a trash can. I needed to keep moving, as soon as stopped I was going to want to sleep. A coffee stop was probably going to be in order, too.

"Bell things?" Sam asked, as I wandered a few feet over to toss my cup away.

"From Heaven," Dean explained.

Sam's confusion was clear, he raised an eyebrow, commented "Riiiiiiight…."

"Freaking angels," Dean cursed as I rejoined them. Sam looked at me questioningly, I ignored it for the moment, glanced behind him at the older man who was still in his room, now staring out the window with a slump to his shoulders.

"Um, Mr. Stanley? What did he say?" I asked.

Sam nodded, glancing back as I had. "It was just a joke. He didn't know it would really work."

"What would work?" Dean asked.

Sam looked at us, then raised his hand. I squinted, then opened my eyes widely at what he was holding.

"Is that… is that a joy buzzer?"

Short Time Later
Motel Room

Dean's POV

I felt an inordinate amount of pleasure as I donned a pair of goggles, followed by protective gloves. I adjusted the goggles to fit, and then picked up the joy buzzer. It practically oozed power, I stared at it for a moment before I turned to look at Sam and Beth. Sam was filled with energy at my preparations, and shifted from foot to foot. Beth yawned, but smiled at me when I grinned in her direction. "You guys ready?"

Sam nodded, lifted his own pair of goggles to his eyes at the same time Beth slipped hers over her head. "Hit it, Mr Wizard," Sam said with a grin and I pulled down the dark visor to protect my face.

I turned to the large ham we'd picked up at the grocery store, contemplated what I was about to do, and then slammed my palm into the fleshy uncooked roast. I was at once glad for the precautions we'd taken, two aluminum foil pans on top of pot holders on the table. The joy buzzer worked! Electricity flowed from my hand into the ham, cringed at the sound of the meat that sizzled against my palm.

After a moment I pulled my hand back. The entire roast, in a matter of seconds, had gone from raw to perfectly cooked - crackle and all. Beth let out a gasp next to me, lowering her goggles. I flipped up the visor, pleased at my handiwork. "That'll do, pig."

"What the hell?" Beth's thoughts mirrored those of all of us. I removed my goggles, still staring at the fully cooked ham. Suddenly I felt hungry.

"That crap isn't supposed to work," Sam stated, mind still on the task. I looked at the buzzer, still on my hand.

"This thing doesn't even have batteries," I pointed out. I removed it carefully, putting it on the table, and then took my gloves off.

"So...so, what? Are—are we looking at cursed objects?" Sam asked.

"Sounds good," I said. I walked over to the kitchenette, searched around in the drawer for a moment, found a knife and fork. When I sliced open the ham, it was tender, juicy, and perfect. "Maybe there's a powerful witch in town," I mused as I took a bit out of the slice of ham. "Is there any link between the, uh, the joy buzzer and the itching powder?"

Beth shook her head, as if she was coming out of a daze, frowned at the question. "Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store." I sliced off another piece of ham, contemplated her information.

"Hmmm." I chewed thoughtfully, turned to see Beth watching me, the exhaustion from earlier now replaced with a hunger.

"We're gonna need bread," she said, and I let out a small exclamation of joy.

"Yes! Bread! And butter," I said. Sam shook his head with a smile as I started to slice a few pieces of ham off the bone for Beth. Without notice a figure landed next to me, and I jumped at the same time as a surprised yelp escaped me.

"Jesus…" I cursed, looked at Castiel now besides me. "A little notice?"

Castiel was staring at the roast on the table. "Is that, ham?"

"Eyes off my pig, man," I warned him, he was looking a little too hungry for me. Beth I could trust with my ham, but Cas? He might disappear with it, and that would just not work.

"Cas, why are you here?" Sam asked. He seemed to be the only one who was not at ease by the angel having simply appeared.

"I've come for Beth," Castiel announced, and I was instantly on alert.

"Wait, whoa whoa whoa, what?" I asked, my eyes met with hers, and she seemed resigned to the angel already.

"She needs to come with me," Cas replied.

"Where are we going?" Beth asked.

"And why?!" Sam chimed in. I realised for the moment that I'd barely had a moment to wrap my head around this Bells of Heaven nonsense, let alone fill our little brother in on anything. Somehow it hadn't seemed the right time when we were picking out a pig to roast.

"Yeah, what he said," I added, pointing to Sam, "and I'm coming with you."

"You're… you're going? What is going on here?" Sam questioned.

"The angels are messing with Beth, pricks," I replied. His expression was confused. I'm sure mine was too. I really had no idea what was going on, I just knew that I wasn't about to let Beth run off into the sunset with these pricks. Sure, Cas seemed okay, but the others? I wasn't so trusting.

"There is a way to stop it, but we must go before …" Castiel's facial expression froze, he tilted his head sideways and appeared to be listening to something beyond our hearing range. Within seconds his posture changed from relaxed to tense, he rippled displeasure, and then looked at me. "I have to go," he said without explanation, turned to Beth. "I'll be back. Stay awake."

"Huh," I said, a little speechless at the drama that had just unfolded. Angels. I was never going to get used to all their popping in and out, and never really giving us any direct, useful information.

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Sam threw his hands up in the air, clearly annoyed.

"Come on," Beth said. Her tone and expression settled into a fierce determination. "I need to keep moving, let's check out this magic store, I'll fill you in on the way."

Conjurarium
Alliance, Nebraska

Beth's POV

The gags and gimmicks store was exactly as you might expect it to be. Filled with cheap trick toys, costumes, and other assorted things… like rubber chickens. The door chimed as we walked in, and there was a burst of laughter that echoed out before it chimed again.

I looked over a range of dog turds. Everything from your basic run-of-the-mill fake doo-doo, to turd in a box - your gift for the person who has everything, I supposed - down to the Stepped in Doo joke where you attached the fake dog doo to your shoe and walked around to get reactions.

I scrunched up my nose at the mere thought of it. I'd dealt with some pretty gross things in my life - training for vampire hunting, by hacking the heads off dead pigs, being one of them - yet this made me sick more than all the blood and gore.

"Beth!" I heard Dean chortle, glanced over to see him holding a whoopee cushion in the air and laughing silently. His eyes filled with humour, for that split second I almost forgot about everything else. I tossed him a grin and he walked over to the counter, obviously intending to make a purchase.

When the owner of the store - a weedy looking man in a striped pinsuit wearing round spectacles - entered, I joined Dean by the row of rubber chickens.

"Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery," he said with a flourish of his hands.

"Are you the owner?" I asked.

"Yep."

"You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?" Dean asked, looking around the shop.

The man thought about it for a few seconds and nodded. "Yeah, a grand total of one of each. They aren't exactly big-ticket items. Look, you kids here to buy something or what?" The message was clear, he wasn't giving information if we weren't buying. Dean pulled some cash out of his wallet and held up the whoopee cushion. The owner accepted the cash as I continued with the questioning.

"So, you get many customers?"

He shrugged. "Kids come in. They don't buy much, but they're more than happy to break stuff. These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies. The whole thing makes me just…" his face turned a little red, flushed from frustration, and Dean cut in.

"Angry?"

The man paused, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I am angry. This shop has been my life for twenty years, and now it's wasting away to nothing."

"Which is why you hate them," Dean supplied with a nod.

"I suppose," the answer was a little more hesitant.

"You wish there was something you could do about it," Dean continued.

"Yeah, I guess I do," came the reply, the voice of the little man started to pitch slightly.

"So you're taking revenge," Dean said, grabbing a rubber chicken off the display. He slapped it down on the counter with a thwacking noise, and then pulled out the joy buzzer from earlier. "With this!" The man watched wide-eyed and confused as Dean slammed his hand down on the chicken. The buzzer emitted a loud crackle of electricity and popped as the rubber under Dean's hand started to melt.

I watched the man yelp and leap back from the desk, eyes only on the chicken that was now melted rubber on the countertop. "Oh! No!" He cried out and then he started making gurgling noises in the back of his throat, gulped for air before sitting down on the floor, hard.

Sam had walked over to us, glanced over my shoulder at the man now whimpering on the floor. "Yeah," he said. "something tells me this guy is not a powerful witch."

"Sorry, sorry," Dean said, his tone slightly remorseful as he held up an apologetic hand to the man, and then practically ran for the door, Sam and I not long behind him.

Later That Evening
Motel Room

Dean's POV

I sat at the laptop, stared at the search on the screen. "Bells of Heaven, Heavenly Bells, Soul Searchers…" I muttered the terms as I read them, mind intent on discovering something, anything on what the angels were subjecting Beth to. There wasn't much on it, this didn't surprise me at all. I'd phoned Jefferson and Bobby, neither of them knew anything about it, but they were going through the motions. Meanwhile, Beth was guzzling coffee and No Doz like it was going out of fashion.

Sam looked up when I spoke, curiosity on his face. "You know, we do already have a case…"

"I know, I know," I muttered. How could I forget? Everything we did was a case. If it wasn't about monsters, demons or angels, it wasn't happening. I frowned back at the screen. I'd been so focused on Sam, and the colt, and even this latest mission that I hadn't stopped to think about Beth: what she was going through since Zachariah's joyride. "How's that going, by the way?" I asked, looking pointedly over at Sam.

Sam shook his head, went back to his laptop, suitably chastised. He hadn't made any further progress on the case and we both knew it. I glanced at my phone, noting the time. 30 minutes. I turned back to the computer, tried to push the nervous feeling out of my mind.

Haunted eyes looked at me, full of rage and despair. "She didn't make it," Cole said. I swallowed, stood and moved to the fridge where I'd left a six-pack earlier. The beer didn't act as much of a distraction as it ran down my throat, but I kept drinking anyway. I dropped the bottle to the table next to me, moved to look out the window at the dark parking lot.

"Dude," Sam said. "What's wrong with you?"

I froze, glanced at him uncomfortably. Sam watched me expectantly. I felt my brow furrow without even trying to frown. "She's…" I felt the heat rise into my cheeks, just the thought of what I was going to say.

"She?"

"She's been gone like forty minutes," I said lamely.

Sam took only a second to realise I was talking about Beth, leaned back in his chair and raised his arms up to lock his hands behind his head. He jerked one eyebrow upwards, a little smirk to his mouth joining it.. "Are you serious?"

"I'm going to go check on her," I said, giving in to the urge I'd been feeling for the last half hour. Sam scoffed, watched as I pulled on my jacket and walked to the door.

"Wow, I thought you had control issues, but geez Dean, this is a little…"

"Nuts?" I cut him off, rested my hand on the door as I looked at him. "Yeah. I can get on board with that. But you're not the one with a freaking legion of angels after you." I paused, considered the statement as Sam raised his eyebrow in amusement.

"Well, you got one angel after you," I conceded.

"Lucifer."

I sighed. "Have I mentioned our lives suck?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. I turned to open the door, mind on the chapel three blocks down where I knew Beth was praying. It would take me less than five minutes to walk there. "Seriously, Dean!" Sam's voice was amused, but concerned at the same time. I let out a frustrated breath, spun to face him.

"Look, you didn't see what it was like, man. The future. It wasn't a cakewalk," I said. I felt the fear grip at my heart: unspoken. I could not let it get too much of a hold on me, but I had started to think that I was losing that battle.

"Well, we're together, that's already rewriting history," Sam said, citing a similar thing I'd said to Beth, and him, not a week ago.

"Yeah. Maybe. But that doesn't mean something isn't going to happen to Beth," I said softly.

"You think?" Sam asked. He put his laptop aside, concern crossed his features as he swung his legs off the bed and sat up straighter.

"She didn't die because you were gone, Sammy. It was my fault. I wasn't with her," I confessed.

"You can't be with her every waking moment," he reasoned. I shook my head.

"Why not? We practically had been until…" My voice faltered. It was my fault. All of it.

"Until you went to Hell," Sam finished for me. I nodded, fell silent.

My mind was in overdrive. Our lives, mine, Beth's, it had all come back to Sam: to Dad's order that we look after him. I'd been ready to let him go, when he died, I'd almost felt relief - but not Beth. She always did take orders better than me. And from that moment in time, our lives had been irreparable, everything had started to fall apart. Beth's deal. Mine to trump hers and keep her safe. If we'd just let him die… even if Jake had managed to get the gates open, to free Lucifer, or whatever the plan had been…

Sam had always been his vessel.

"What?" Sam asked, sensed a change in my expression.

"Nothing," I said, not even certain of what I'd just realised. I needed to talk to Beth.

"No, you just had some kind of …. epiphany." Sam pressed. I struggled to look at him.

"Nah, it's nothing."

"C'mon, Dean, no more secrets." The rawness in his voice stopped me. I hovered near the door, glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Forty-five minutes. Five more minutes, I could handle that.

"Just funny how life is sometimes," I said. "And Dad. You know, he was so hard on us, so determined that we protect you, and then he comes out with this total bullshit about …" About you.

"About?"

I'd never thought I would go through with it. "Nothing. Just stupid stuff," I said.

"Dean…he told you to kill me if I turned evil," Sam said. I shook my head.

"He told me to do a lot of things." That much was true.

"You disobeyed that order, though." Did he think I didn't know that? Right now it was the only thing at the front of my mind. If I'd killed him, if I'd obeyed orders. If Beth and I had done as we were told… would any of this be happening?

"Yeah, well, turns out he wasn't always right," I muttered.

"Are you sure about that?" Sam asked, his eyes watched me, wide, wavering as he spoke his fear, the belief that he thought he was unworthy to be here. I frowned at him, he pressed, "if Beth hadn't made that deal, well… none of this would be happening."

"You don't know that," I said.

Sam rose to his feet, took a step toward me with his hand outstretched hesitantly. "Yes I do. You think I haven't thought about that? I'd be dead. Lilith would be alive. Lucifer would still be in his cage."

"Yellow Eyes would have just found someone else to get him out." It's what I told myself. "Someone else would have killed her." Of course… I was ignoring the fact that if I hadn't been in Hell, the first seal wouldn't have fallen - that was too fresh in my mind to think through at any great length. The guilt I felt, knowing how weak I'd been, how if I'd just been stronger….

"But someone else wouldn't be Lucifer's true vessel." Sam broke through my thoughts. Again, I had no words. Sam continued, "I never believed in destiny, but I don't know Dean, this is looking kind of … predestined."

"Yeah…" I nodded, having started to wonder it myself.

"What if Lucifer was right? What if we are always going to end up in that place?"

"We won't," I retorted. I was nothing, if not stubborn.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked. I felt the frustration and anger at him rise in my chest, sick of the questions, the doubts. I was always reassuring him, making him believe that he was a part of this family, that we didn't hold him accountable. I repeated the words I'd said to Beth, and Bobby, countless times before.

"Because I'm not losing you, Sammy, okay? You or Beth! We don't give in to these bastards, we make our own choices. That's how we roll."

"What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not." I glanced at the clock again. Fifty-five minutes.

"Dean…" Sam's face clearly showed his concern. Worry, doubt, fear slipped across his features as I watched him. It would take me three minutes to sprint to the church. I sighed at Sam, silently willed him to pull it together, start to fight for our future, not just give in like we were puppets on a stage.

"I'm going to check on Beth. I don't know what's going on with this whole Church Bells thing, but I do know this much, these angels aren't giving up without a fight. But neither am I, dammit." Three minutes. If I left now, I'd be there, and she'd have been gone an hour. An hour was okay, right? An hour didn't scream insecurity, fear, dysfunction?

What did it matter if it did? She got it. She understood me. I mustered up a smile for Sam, gestured at the laptop. "Just, maybe take a look online for me about these bells? You always were a better researcher."

He relaxed, eyes softened slightly. He nodded as I turned to the door. 1 hour. I'd waited long enough.

St Gabriel Catholic Church
Alliance, Nebraska

Beth's POV

I was almost done for the evening. I'd lost my momentum a few times, falling into deep, wordless contemplation as I sought out answers that were beyond speech. Sometimes, in the darkest moments, I couldn't find anything in all the languages I knew to reflect how I was feeling. My father had always told me that prayer was not the words we said, but the feeling it generated; he said prayer didn't have to be in words, we could think, feel, project our emotions to God, and He would translate it into something He knew.

All I knew as I came to the end of my rosary rounds was that I'd begged for intervention. I'd laid out the pain and hurt I was feeling, expressed the confusion as to how we were to move forward, and finally sent up silent prayer and gratitude to the angels who were watching over us. Dean joined me some time in the middle of this, his strong, quiet presence was a relief to have. Long gone were the days when I had been self conscious about him joining me during prayer.

As I crossed myself, kissed the crucifix at the end of my rosary, and then the pentacle, I rose off my knees with a grunt, lamented that I was starting to feel the cold more as I got older.

"Hey," Dean said, when I finally looked at him with a smile.

"Hey. Everything okay?"

"Just checking on you. Making sure you're not falling asleep on the job," he answered with a chuckle. There was truth to what he was saying, however. He'd reacted to the news better than I had expected, but I hadn't missed the jittery way he'd watch me, worry.

"I'm too scared to even close my eyes," I groaned as he slid his arm around my shoulders. I resisted leaning my head against his shoulder; it would be a disaster, inviting me to give into the soft, all encompassing darkness too easily.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. " Any word from Cas yet?"

"No. Nothing." Dean shifted slightly in the pew, adjusted for the hardness of the wooden seat, and then looked at the stained glass windows with various scenes of angels and humans.

"What is this all about anyway?" He asked.

"Zachariah, I suppose. He can't be too pleased about us getting away," I picked up a bible from the pew in front, absently flipped through it. There was a comfort to the thin, soft pages running across my fingers.

"It doesn't matter, he's not going to change my mind," Dean was resolute and I chuckled. There was nothing more foolhardy than thinking you could change Dean's mind when it was made up. I started to wonder whether Zachariah really knew us at all.

"He must think he can," I murmured, and placed the bible gentle back on the seat in front of me.

Dean expelled a short breath, nodded. "Yeah, that's the scary part."

As worried, and tired, as I was, Dean sounded even more fragile in that moment. It was times like now that one of us picked up the other, pulled them through doubt. I glanced sideways, Dean was staring up at the stained glass behind the altar - at the image of Gabriel coming to Mary and revealing she was to bear a special child - he seemed lost, for the first time on this case he showed signs of uncertainty.

"We'll be okay," I breathed softly. I reached out and covered his hand with my own, squeezing softly. Dean remained silent, unmoving, and that worried me even more. "We will be okay, Dean."

"Will we?" He choked out. Licking his lips, he frowned and then cleared his throat. "I dunno Beth. I mean, we have Sam with us now, sure, but he was talking some serious sense back at the motel just now. About destiny, and how if he'd just stayed dead…"

"You think we should have just let him die?" It was something I'd thought about, suspected he had too, but never voiced.

"No!" Dean said, an almost automatic denial crossing his face. I stared at him, waited for the truth to show in his eyes. He looked over at me, his face a mix of emotion. "Yes?" He continued. "I don't know."

"Dean?" I twisted around, looked at him with open questioning.

"Well, I don't know Beth. You can't deny, we wouldn't be in this position if we had." I pressed my hands together, pushed them one against the other as I considered my answer.

"I don't know. It seems like no matter what we do, we are still heading toward the same destination. If it hadn't been that, it would have been something else," I commented.

"Maybe. Sam said something similar. Like maybe, it doesn't matter what we do, we will end up in the same situation as we were?" He finished with a sigh, "with Lucifer winning."

"I don't believe that," I said with a short shake of my head.

"I don't know…" Dean's voice was low and unconvinced.

"You believe in destiny?" I scoffed. Now I'd heard it all. The great Dean Winchester professing to believe that our life was laid out in a nice, well paved straight line for us to walk.

"No," he was quick to deny.

"Sounds like you might, the way you're talking," I pushed. I leaned an elbow on the pew in front, buried my hand in my hair as I supported my head.

"I think we make our own destiny," Dean replied. " I do believe in one thing though."

"Oh?" I looked at him curiously.

"Us. We were always going to end up together. Back then, now, in the future." It was enough to make me smile. I'd considered the theory of destiny, many times in our life. Quietly I believed there was something magical about our relationship, something that seemed to push us together even when everything around us was trying to pull us apart. We were bonded. The Chinese called it yuanfen, I called it fate.

"Well now, that is something," I finally replied when he turned vulnerable eyes to me. "I know Sam thinks you're tough and just another cookie cut from the John Winchester mould, but I know you. I know you secretly love the silly chick flicks, and I still wouldn't pick you for believing in destiny."

"The more I start to remember, about how we met, and kept meeting - even with our memories wiped by Cas… I still owe him a broken nose for that, too. It's just… hard not to believe," he said with a shrug. Dean was nothing if not logical about some things.

"Yeah…" I nodded in agreement.

"What if Lucifer is right?" I tensed at the subject change.

"About Sam?"

"Yeah. What if after all this, we can't protect him?" He asked.

I'd been asking myself that same question. If we were on a predestined route together, then it seemed by default that Sam was on one that seemed to land him constantly in hot water.

"I don't know," I answered after a moment of contemplation.

"This sucks," he breathed, leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees, returned his gaze to the stain glass window. I followed his line of sight with my own, it was hard to see the glass with the darkness outside, but an orange streetlight flickered beyond the picture, illuminating the hand of Gabriel as he held it up in greeting to Mary, his face covered in shadow.

"I'm so tired…" I murmured as I felt my eyes start to droop.

"Come on, let's walk," Dean said. He rose to his feet and took my hand in his own, with a tug, he raised me to my feet. He slipped his hands around my waist, holding firmly as he kissed my forehead then smiled. "That'll keep you awake. We'll see what the hell is open in this backwater town. Maybe we'll find some pie."

The Next Day
Hospital

Beth's POV

Morning saw us return to the hospital. I stifled a yawn as I listened to Dean talking to the nurse a short distance away, stared in the doorway at the latest victim: Peter Darby. He had been visited during the night by… something. A nurse offered him a glass with a straw, but the cantankerous man waved her away. Sam had been questioning the man, took a few notes and then turned back to the door, flashed me an incredulous look. This was going to be an interesting one.

Dean finished up his conversation. "Well, I, uh, appreciate that, Nurse…" I turned to see him lean in and read the woman's name tag. "Fremont."

"Please… call me Jen," she smiled.

"Oh," Dean said with a grin. "Jen it is."

I covered my mouth again, trying not to look bored as I yawned and contemplated where to find the nearest source of caffeine.

"How do you put up with him like that?" Sam asked as he watched Dean's antics from behind me.

"Huh?" I asked, glanced over my shoulder at him. "That? That's nothing. You should have seen us in our early years, we had this competition, who could get the most numbers in a night."

"You two are weird. And you know, you're not exactly old and grey now…" Sam pointed out.

"Feels like it," I said with another yawn. "We stopped the game after we got married. Didn't feel right."

"Poor Dean, that must have cramped his style," Sam said with a smirk. I smiled, watched Dean flash the nurse a cheeky wink.

"Actually… it was his idea," I informed Sam. Dean turned, spotted us and smiled, clapping once as he walked over.

"Huh…" Sam said.

"What's up with Toothless? Cavity creeps get ahold of him?" He asked, looking at Sam, who seemed to be slightly shocked, thinking about my disclosure about his brother. "Well?" Dean prompted.

"Uh...Yeah. Close. He wrote up a description," Sam said after a few moments. He flipped the cover open on his notebook and read from a page.

"Five foot ten, three hundred fifty pounds, wings, and a pink tutu. Said it was the tooth fairy," he answered.

"So he's obviously whacked out on painkillers," Dean said. He looked up as Nurse Fremont came back from where she'd been down the hall, and handed him a coffee with a bright smile. Dean chuckled, nodded professionally at her and as soon as she was out of sight, handed me the coffee.

"Thought you might need this," he said, impressed with himself. I chuckled, leaned in to kiss his cheek as I accepted the coffee.

"My hero," I whispered as Sam gaped. "And maybe you're right about the painkiller overdose, but whatever it was got past locked doors and windows without triggering the alarm." I took a sip of the coffee and licked my lips - she'd gone overkill on the sugar, perfect.

"Come on," Dean scoffed, "tooth fairy?"

"And it left thirty-two quarters underneath his pillow. One for each tooth," Sam added. Dean nodded as he took in this new information.

"Well, I will see your crazy and raise you some," he said. "There's a couple of kids upstairs with stomach ulcers—say they got it from mixing Pop Rocks and Coke. Another guy...his face...froze that way."

"What way?" I asked curiously.

Dean looked one way and then the other, and reached his fingers up to pull out the sides of his mouth, he simultaneously crossed his eyes and held a disgusting face that looked like it was an extra out of a Jim Carrey movie.

"He, uh, held it too long, and it—it stuck. They're flying in a plastic surgeon," he said. He poked at his cheeks and wiggled his chin to make sure all was back to normal.

"So, if you add all that up…" Sam spoke, and then hesitated. Dean raised his eyebrows, questioning. "I got nothing," he added. With a sigh, Sam started to walk down the hallway past us. Dean turned around to walk alongside him, slipped his arm around my waist protectively as we moved.

"I thought sea-monkeys were real," Dean confessed as we reached the lobby.

"They are. They're brine shrimp," Sam said.

"No, no, no, I mean like in the ads. You know, like the sea-monkey wife cooks the pot roast for the sea-monkey husband, and the sea-monkey kids play with the dog in a sea-monkey castle—real. I mean, I was six, but I believed it," Dean said.

"Okay…" Sam shrugged. I thought through the different cases, all unrelated, yet a common thread running through them all.

"Point is…" I interrupted Dean's line of thought, grabbed his arm. He stopped to look at me, Sam too.

"Maybe that's the connection," I said. "The tooth fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you—they're all lies that kids believe." Dean considered my theory, playing all the scenarios and then nodded.

"And now they're coming true," he suggested. I nodded. "Okay, so whatever's doing this is—is reshaping reality. It has the powers of a god. Or…"

Sam rolled his eyes, speaking what we were all thinking. "...of a trickster."

"Yeah, with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old," Dean said.

"Or you," Sam pointed out. Dean looked offended, as Sam started to walk out the door and down the steps.

"Did you hear that?" He asked. I took another sip of my coffee and giggled.

"Mhmmm, I heard him," I said. I took his hand and pulled him toward the door. "He's right!"

Motel Room

Dean's POV

Back at the room, I finished off my sandwich with a couple of pickles, looking at it with awe. This was going to be the best sandwich yet. I picked it up, cradled it lovingly in my hands, and then opened my mouth to wrap my lips around the crust.

"Dude, seriously?" I sighed as the door opened and Sam walked in. "Still with the ham?"

I chomped on the mouthful of sandwich I had just bitten off, spat my words out around it. "We don't have a fwidge." Sam rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him, then put the map down in front of me on the table.

"Well, I found something," he said. I looked up to see if Beth was paying attention. She'd been lounging on the bed, reading a book when I'd started making the sandwich… when I spotted her, I dropped my food on the plate in front of me, moved to the bed.

"Babe?" I reached out, shook her by the arm. "Hey sugarpie, look alive sunshine." It killed me to watch her like this, I hoped Cas came up with a solution too. As soon as he did, I was going to take her away for a long weekend, and we were both going to get some sleep.

Beth blinked, groaned softly as I woke her. She looked past me with bleary eyes. "Oh, hey Sam," she said and pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"Maybe you should get some sleep?" Sam suggested with a worried look.

"Can't. Too dangerous," she said with a yawn.

"Well, it's got to be better than this," he replied. I looked down at her, felt the concern start to eat at me like bad angina.

"He might have a point," I said.

"No… need to keep them away from you," Beth replied. She stretched her arms above her head. I watched appreciatively at the way her breasts bounced slightly when she moved, licked my lips as she met my eyes and realised what was running through my mind.

"You good?" She asked with a knowing smile, pulling herself up by holding onto my shoulder.

"Oh yeah, I'm good. Are you good?" I asked, and slid my hands around her waist as she wandered toward the table.

"Mmm, I'm good," she laughed. She pulled me with her as she moved. "What did you find Sammy?"

Sam shook his head at us both, then spread the map out across the surface. He pointed to one of half a dozen red X's drawn on the paper.

"Um, tooth fairy attack was here, Pop Rocks and Coke was here, then you've got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer—all located within a two-mile radius," he said.

"So, we got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes reality," I said as I looked over Beth's shoulder.

"Looks like," Sam nodded.

"And what's the A-bomb at its center?" I asked.

"Four acres of farmland...and a house," Sam replied.

Beth pulled away from me and wandered off to the bathroom. "Our motel isn't in that circle, by any chance?" She called out from the open door and I ran a quick check, nodded.

"Yeah. Why?"

There was a strain in her voice which I at first put down to the fatigue, but when she didn't reply, it instantly had me on alert. "Beth?" I turned to the bathroom to see her standing just inside the doorway, her shirt pulled up over her stomach. It looked distended… a lot like… I swallowed, hurried to the door frame.

"Is that…?" I could barely voice it. Beth looked up to meet my eyes in the mirror.

"Well, unless it's all that ham we've been eating…" She joked. "I uh… I dunno."

"Damn," I said softly. "What is that supposed to even mean? That's not like an urban legend?"

"Errr, no, but lots of people believe you can get pregnant from unprotected sex?" Beth asked, frowning slightly.

"Ugh, you guys… really? I was gone like two hours!" Sam said, threw his hands up in the air.

"We got bored," I said with a grin. "And I had to keep her awake somehow." Beth chuckled, dropped her shirt back down over her stomach and took a deep breath.

"So okay? Someone believes you get pregnant every time you have unprotected sex?" I contemplated the thought: it wouldn't have been the first time someone had tried to get their kid to abstain from sex.

"You know you can go blind from that, too." Sam interjected.

"No," I said with a shake of my head, "that's if you uh… you know…" I moved my hand luridly back and forth in the air like I was masturbating, causing Sam to crinkle his nose at me.

"We gotta check this out," Beth said. My eyes dropped down to the little baby bump showing under her top, this was so surreal.

"You think this is permanent?" I asked, Beth paled slightly at the suggestion, her hands moving instinctively to her stomach.

"I mean, in 2014…." My thoughts were cut short by Sam.

"Your daughter? You think?" He asked. I inclined my head affirmatively. The timeline was right, if we were talking about having a daughter who would be the same age as Sophia had been in 2014, then, it could be any time. I reached out and cupped Beth's cheek gently, attempted to gauge her thoughts. "This is messed up, you know that right?" I brushed my thumb along her cheek bone and mustered an encouraging smile.

She placed her warm hand over mine, her eyes closed for a moment before she opened them to look at me wryly. "One crisis at a time. Let's go check out this farm." I had to admit, she was handling this rather well - I supposed that said a lot about how tired she was, maybe she had no extra energy to spare.

Motel Room

Beth's POV

We changed into our suits; me with more difficulty than the boys. I cinched a belt lower than my stomach to keep my slacks up, and paired it with a shirt of Sam's to cover up the baby bump that was now more than evident. Hidden in the bathroom, I slipped my jacket over to cover the obvious fact that the shirt was too big for me, and caught my reflection in the mirror. A moment of deja vu hit, overwhelmed me with the feeling of combined fear and excited elation from years ago, when I'd carried our son.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept. I knew if I stayed at the motel it was inevitable, I had to remain awake. I focused my attention on Cas, then dropped it. He'd warned me not to use angel radio too much to contact him, that he didn't know who might be listening. It was not likely, but if anyone in the Castiel angel line was recruited by Zachariah, then they would have as much access to what I said to Cas, as he would.

Instead I whipped out my phone, sent him another text message asking for an update, then slipped it into my pocket as I fought to rein in my runaway feelings. Fatigue, and now hormones I suspected, were going to wreak havoc with me. I took a deep breath, placed my hands on my abdomen and closed my eyes for a moment - remembering it all. What it had felt like to have a tiny life inside of me, to feel him kick, move. Only the good memories, I carefully kept the bad ones tucked in their corner of my mind, untouched.

There was a gentle knock at the door and I looked up to see Dean poke his head around, looking worried. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Maybe you should stay here?" He asked carefully, and opened the door enough for him to slip into the room. I bit my lip as he wound his arms around me, hands coming to naturally rest on my stomach like they belonged there.

"And miss this?" I asked. "This might be the trickster again, imagine if we caught him? Dean, I might be pregnant, but I'm not an invalid."

Dean's hands tightened against me and he glanced down in the mirror, shook his head. "Yeah, that don't get any easier to hear," he commented.

I chuckled, leaned back against him,as I dropped my head to his shoulder. "You know you wanted to talk about making a baby," I reminded him, not that I thought he'd remembered that particular conversation from our foray into the future.

"Sugarpie, I always want to talk about making a baby," he murmured as he kissed the back of my neck. "It's so much fun…"

His amorous hands wandered slightly North and I giggled at him, took his hands in mine and pulled his arms tighter around me. He sobered and met my eyes in the mirror.

"Man, that conversation was kind of funny, you were so drunk." I said with a quirky smile.

"Huh," he said thoughtfully, eyes dropped down to my stomach.

I smiled sadly, thought about our lost baby boy, "come on, let's go," I said, I pulled away and led us out of the bathroom.

Emotions carefully tucked behind the poker face John had taught us to have, I set my mind to deal with the cause of what was going on, and face our individual circumstances later. Work. When all else failed we worked, it got us through the dark days.

It wasn't until we reached the farmhouse that Dean recovered from his silent contemplation. We exited the Impala, and he hurried to walk next to me.

"I'm not opposed to it, you know," he said. I stopped walking, ran a hand through my hair as I let out a long breath. Sam started to walk up the steps, ignoring us.

"You seemed a bit uncertain back there, Dean," I replied.

"Was not. I was just surprised. Like… I thought we'd kind of plan it, or something," he said with a frown. I laughed, took a few backwards steps toward the porch and threw my hands up in the air.

"Well, surprise!"

Dean looked troubled as he quickened his pace, hitting the porch at the same time as me. Sam bent to pick the lock to the house, but the handle turned and he hurriedly stood, pocketed his picks. A young boy with light brown, shaggy hair - not unlike Sam as a young boy I thought - peered out at us, asked "can I help you?"

"Hi. Uh, what's your name?" Sam recovered, smiling at the kid. I paused, found that I'd been half expecting to see the Trickster just standing in the doorway. It was a bit of a long shot.

"Who wants to know?" He said suspiciously. Sam glanced over at us, a little surprised at the attitude coming off the boy.

"The, uh…" Dean felt inside his jacket for his badge, pulled it out and held it up. "FBI." Sam followed suit, same as I.

"Let me see that," the boy said, took Dean's badge and examined it carefully. He seemed satisfied with what he saw, and handed it back to Dean. I pocketed my badge again as the boy looked at us sternly.

"So, what, you guys don't knock?" He asked. Wow, who was this kid?

"Are your parents home?" I asked, curious as to why no one had come to the door by now.

"They work."

"Well, you mind if we ask you a few questions, maybe take a look around the house?" Sam questioned. The boy looked uncertain for the first time, hesitated in the threshold of the door.

"I don't know…"

"Come on. You can trust us. We're the authorities," Dean cut in, held up the badge again. The boy didn't appear all that reassured, glanced between Sam, Dean and myself. Finally he nodded and led the way down a hallway to the kitchen.

Dean's POV

The kid had attitude! Reminded me a little of myself at that age. I bristled a little under the scrutiny and hoped this was the last of it, and the boy would start helping us out now. As we reached the kitchen, I looked around. It was an out dated old farmhouse, linoleum flooring that had seen better days, tired worn benches, and a small stove tucked at the end. There was a pot of soup boiling on a front burner, the kid walked over and turned it off.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"It's called soup," the boy replied. "You heat it up and you eat it." He took it off the stove, and poured it into a bowl nearby. I had a flashback of years where I'd done that for me and Sam.

Sam chuckled. "Right. I, I know. It's just, um...I used to make my own dinner, too, when I was a kid."

"Well, I'm not a kid," was the boy's reply. Beth had moved closer to the fridge, which I took notice of when she bent down to look at a drawing.

"Right. No, I, I know. Um…" Sam was struggling, so he stuck his hand in the air, introducing himself. "I'm Robert, by the way."

The boy accepted the hand, shook it firmly. "Jesse."

"Jesse, nice to meet you."

Beth glanced back at me, inclined her head, and I took a couple of steps to see what had caught her attention. If it were possible, I probably would have felt my eyes pop out of my head. There on the fridge was a hand drawn picture of a bearded man with pink wings and a tutu. Beth pulled it off the fridge, tossing me a knowing look. "Jesse, did you draw this?" She asked, received a nod in reply.

"It's the tooth fairy."

"That's what you think the tooth fairy looks like, huh?" I mused.

"Yeah," Jesse nodded. "My dad told me about him."

I locked eyes with Sam, raised my eyebrow in curiosity. "Huh."

"What, didn't your dad tell you about the tooth fairy?" Jesse asked, crossing his arms at me.

"My Dad?" I asked with a laugh. "No, my dad told me different stories."

"Well, the tooth fairy isn't a story," he insisted.

Beth knelt down to Jesse's level, looking at him. "What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?"

"That stuff will make you scratch your brains out."

"Pop Rocks and Coke?" I asked.

"You mix them, and you'll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that," he rolled his eyes at me.

Beth snickered and I could see her looking for the right words. "What about when two people love each other, and they are… cuddling?"

"You mean sex?" Jesse asked, and Beth looked a little shocked, standing up.

"How old are you?" I asked, flabbergasted. He couldn't be more than ten!

"Old enough to know that you get pregnant if you have sex without a condom," Jesse replied, pointing to Beth. "Happened to my cousin Amanda, her parents were real angry."

I wanted to laugh at Beth's expression which was classically amused. I pulled the joy buzzer out of my pocket and brandished it before Jesse. He went pale and gulped. "You shouldn't have that," he said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"It can electrocute you," Jesse replied. I shook my head.

"Actually, it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. It's totally harmless. Doesn't even have batteries," I told him. Jesse's eyes widened, but he was listening.

"So it can't shock you?" He asked.

"Nope. Not at all. I swear." I said. I had an idea forming in my mind, it was kind of risky, but the logic made sense.

"Oh okay," he replied with a shrug.

"I mean, all it does is just shake in your hand. It's kind of lame. See?" I reached out a shoved the buzzer against Sam's chest. I felt him stiffen underneath me and Beth gasped in shock. There was a buzz, but nothing like the snap and hiss of before. The look Sammy tossed me was murderous, man it was so worth it.

By the time we left, Sam was fuming. He'd kept it all in check while we gave Jesse a few reality checks, but as we walked down the steps from the front porch, I could practically hear him yelling at me through his eyes.

"Dude, what the Hell?!" Sam finally snapped as we got to the car. I stopped and looked across the roof of the car at him.

"I had a hunch, I went with it," I said.

"You risked my ass on a hunch?" Sam asked.

"You're fine," I replied, waving my hand in the air. "Besides, now we know who's turning this town into Willy Wonka's worst nightmare."

"The kid," Sam said, exchanging a look with Beth, who nodded.

"Yeah. Everything Jesse believes comes true. He thinks the tooth fairy looks like Belushi, uh, joy buzzers really shock people, boom, that's what happens…"

"But convince him the joy buzzers don't actually work, and they go from killing machines back into crap toys…" Sam finished my thoughts out loud.

"And pregnant, to not," Beth suddenly announced, sliding her hands down over her flat stomach. I gaped, not having given that a second thought. I grimaced.

"Kid just learned about birth control, I did the world a favour," I quipped and Sam rolled his eyes. Beth looked a little conflicted at the comment, wiped a hand across her face which was starting to look more than fatigued - she had dark rings under her eyes, and a permanent half-frown to her mouth.

"He probably doesn't even know he's doing it," Sam commented. We all turned to look back at the house and I saw the curtains part. Jesse's face peered out at us and I threw him a smile, waved my hand in a friendly manner.

"How is he doing it?" Beth asked. That was the million dollar question.

Motel Room

Beth's POV

I'd stripped off as soon as we got back to the motel. My hands were trembling, and I wasn't sure it was to do with the weariness of not having slept. I felt as if I'd been ripped open, had my innards all pulled out, then shoved back in again. Every time I thought about our trip to the future, of the little girl that I'd held in my arms - my little girl - I wanted to cry. The only thing I could do was keep moving. If I stopped for a moment I was going to break down, and that seemed worse than the growing realisation that deep down, I wanted to be pregnant again. I wanted that baby, but more importantly, that life which came with it: a house, a husband, a family. I also didn't want to think about it, because it was out of reach.

I clicked on the TV, flipping through the channels until our favourite Spanish soap opera came on. Wriggling into sweatpants and a hoodie, I paced, barefoot across the scratchy rug on the floor listening to the show. Dean lounged on the bed, still in his suit, minus the jacket, reading. I paused for a moment, watching him, and heard a sad sigh escape my mouth before I realised it was even happening. Dean heard it too, looked up from his magazine.

He watched me standing there, looking at him with what had to be a conflicted expression, asked, "You want to talk about it?" I shook my head in reply. Secretly I was hoping he'd push me on it. "Come on, you've been moody since the kid's house," he said.

"It's nothing, I'm tired," I said softly. It was a fine dance between us. Sometimes it really was what it was, fatigue or hormones or plain boredom - sometimes it was more. The trick was knowing when to push, fortunately Dean was rather adept at getting things out of me when I couldn't find the words. He frowned, and put the magazine aside, patting the bed beside him.

"Then come lie down."

"I'll fall asleep!" I said, this was a legitimate fear. I felt like a rubber band stretched too thin. Any moment I might snap.

Dean grinned, waggled his eyebrows at me. "I can think of something to keep you awake…" That wasn't what I was expecting from him in that moment. I froze, crossing my arms over my chest with a slight frown.

"Aha!" He said triumphantly, rising to his knees on the bed and moving to the end, next to me. "There is something bothering you. The pregnancy?"

"Oh, please," I scoffed, looking away from him because I didn't want him to see it in my eyes.

"Hey, come on. I know you Beth. You're not the only one who has given this a lot of thought. Maybe we should have that sober conversation?" His voice was gentle, vulnerable, and so were his eyes when I looked back at him. I cupped his cheek, biting my lower lip.

"You do remember?"

"Yeah, of course," he gruffly, circling his hands around my waist.

"Why did act like you didn't?" I asked.

"I didn't want you to freak out, or feel like … I don't know…"

My breath caught in my throat as I thought about what we were saying. Were we really having this conversation? We'd tried so many months ago to get out, only to be dragged back in. Now we had Sam - and Lucifer - to worry about.

"We could, you know," he said quietly. I bit my lip and shook my head.

"We're in the middle of an apocalypse," I breathed.

"We're always in the middle of something," he said.

'Yeah, but we're talking about bringing a baby into the world, Dean."

"You don't think we deserve that?" He asked, his hands tightened on my waist and I closed my eyes, nodding silently.

"Of course we do. But… I think it's a bit irresponsible, don't you?" I felt his shoulders shrug, and opened my eyes to an uncertain gaze.

"I don't know, maybe," he answered softly.

His eyes were so green, flecked through with tiny dots of gold and brown, I stared into them as if I were staring into my own soul. "What about taking care of Sam?" I asked finally. Dean licked his lips, blinked a few times as he thought about his answer.

"I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

"But you were happier… in Minnesota," he pointed out, and he knew he had me. I sighed, chewing on my lower lip as I fought off tears of sadness, and just plain fatigue.

"Dean…"

He reached a hand up to caress my cheek. "I was too," he whispered.

The motel door opened, and Dean sighed at the interruption as Sam walked in, still dressed in his suit. He ignored the embrace we were in, and dropped a bag of food on the table.

"So, I dug up what I could on Jesse Turner. It's not much. Uh, B student, won last year's Pinewood Derby. But get this. Jesse was adopted. His birth records are sealed."

Dean threw me an apologetic look and stood up off the bed, kissing my forehead. "So you unsealed them, and?"

Sam smiled that Dean seemed to have such faith in him. "There's no father listed, but Jesse's biological mom is named Julia Wright. She lives in Elk Creek, on the other side of the state." I knew immediately that we would be going to investigate. I slipped out of the sweatpants as Sam and Dean discussed the fastest route there, and by the time I was changed Sam was out the door.

"This conversation isn't over," Dean promised as he held the door for me. I turned to kiss his cheek, smiled in resignation a him.

Julia Wright's House
Elk Creek, Nebraska

Dean's POV

Julia's house was a no-go zone if ever I'd seen one. Rough around the edges, the house was so run down it almost looked abandoned. A no trespassing sign hung on a rusty gate which was practically falling off a fence overgrown with vines. I gave the gate a shove, it moved with a protesting sound but let us pass. Beth was behind me, Sam having opted to stay in the car. We didn't know what this woman was going to say or do when we told her about Jesse, and a nice, innocent couple seemed less threatening than three of us.

As we stepped on to the sagging porch, Beth nodded to the two deadbolts. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity, pressed on the doorbell.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested," came a woman's voice from the other side of the door. I looked at Beth who shrugged, reached for her badge.

"We're not salesmen," I announced. "Agents Page, and Jones, FBI." I held my badge up to the peephole and waited.

"Put your badge in the slot. Your partner's, too." It was rare that anyone asked us to do that, but I was confident she wouldn't be able to tell a fake from the real thing. I took Beth's badge from her, pushed them both through the mail slot. Another wait, and then the unmistakeable sound of locks clattering, and the door creaked open. A woman with dirty blonde hair handed back the badges, looking warily at us. "What do you want?"

Beth put her badge away, I followed suit, thinking about how we were going to broach the subject of Jesse. "We just had a few questions," Beth started. "About your son."

"I don't have a son," she denied, her face unreadable.

"He was born March 29th, 1998, in Omaha," Beth said to the expressionless face. "You put him up for adoption?"

A flicker of emotion crossed the woman's face. "What about him?" She asked finally.

"We were just wondering, um, was it...was it a normal pregnancy?" Beth asked. Julia said nothing.

"Was there anything strange?" I pressed. Without warning Julia slammed the door shut.

"Stay away from me!" She screamed. I hadn't been expecting that, nor had Beth as I glanced at her surprised face.

"Mrs. Wright, wait!" I said, pushing the door open and following her inside, Beth on my heels. Julia ran ahead of us to the kitchen and shut the door. I hurried after her, pushing the door open warily.

"We just want to talk," I said, moving carefully into the room in case she attacked. Julia grabbed a canister of salt from the table, wrenched it open and tossed the contents at us in a cloud of white. Naturally it did nothing to us, and when she realised this Julia turned to stare at us.

"You're not demons?"

I frowned. "How do you know about demons?"

Dining Room

Beth's POV

Julia offered to make us a coffee or tea, but we were more curious about her story. She made a tea for herself. Sam joined us when Dean sent for him, and the next thing we were all sitting around the dining room table in Julia's house, and she was telling us the story of how Jesse had come to be. She held her mug in both hands, the liquid sloshing with the unsteadiness of her fingers; finally she put it down and crossed her arms, looking at us.

"I was possessed. A demon took control of my body, and I hurt people. I killed people."

"That, that wasn't you," I said quickly, it was always the worst part, reassuring someone that they weren't in the wrong. It had taken me years to accept it, some people never did.

"But I was there. I heard a woman beg for mercy. I...felt a young girl's blood drip down my hands," Julia said, holding her hands in the air. I subconsciously found myself wringing my own hands under the table, as if I was washing them under the water like I had as a teenager.

"That's how you knew about the salt," Dean surmised.

"Yeah, I picked up tricks. It was in my head for months."

"How many months?" I asked.

"Nine."

I did the math and felt sick to my stomach. "So your son…"

"Yeah," she nodded, "the whole time. The pregnancy, birth—all of it. I was possessed." Her eyes glazed over as she started to recollect the birth, speaking as if from far away. "The night the baby was born, I was alone. And the pain was—the pain was overwhelming. I, I screamed, and it came out a laugh, because the demon was happy. It used my body to give birth to a child. When it was over, something changed. Maybe the—the demon was tired or if the pain helped me fight it, but...

Somehow, I took control." She took a sip of her tea, placing the cup back on the saucer in front of her. "And the demon wailed inside me. It pounded against my skull. I thought my head was gonna explode. But I knew. I knew what I had to do. I grabbed fistfuls of salt from a bag of road salt next to me, and I ate them. The demon had to leave."

Dean nodded. "That was smart." She shrugged as if to say she hadn't really had any other choice if she'd wanted to survive.

"Then I was alone with the baby…" she continued. "A part of me...part of me wanted to kill it. But, God help me, I couldn't do that. So, I put it up for adoption, and I ran."

"Who was the father?" Dean asked.

"I was a virgin," she replied. This caught my attention, I looked up to see Dean meet my gaze, his mouth straightening out to a thin line.

"Have you seen my son? Is he human?" She asked.

Dean nodded. "His name's Jesse. He lives in, uh, Alliance. He's a good kid." She nodded, a little smile crossing her face.

Motel Room
Alliance, Nebraska

Dean's POV

Beth had fallen asleep a couple of times on the drive back to Alliance. Unhappily I'd shaken her, and she scowled at me, then realised what I'd done and tossed me a grateful smile. It was late as we reached the motel. I flicked the lights as we entered, not surprised to see Castiel waiting in the room.

Sam pushed past me to place his computer on the table, glancing at Cas. "I take it you got our message," he said as Beth flopped down on the bed face first with a groan.

Castiel looked at Sam, a little confused, and then to Beth. "Beth. You need to come with me."

Beth groaned again. "Where?"

"Heaven."

"Whoa, whoa," I said, holding my hand out to the angel. "Why?"

Beth pushed herself up on her elbows, looking at Cas through squinted eyes. "You know how to stop this?"

"Yes. For now. Until they give up," the angel replied. I felt a surge of relief pass through me, moved to stand by Beth.

"What's the plan?"

"We need to lock away Beth's soul," Cas answered.

I swallowed, not liking the sound of that. "You need to … what?"

"How can that be good?" Sam asked from his perch on the table.

"It's only temporary, until Zachariah stops using the Bells of Heaven to try and locate you," Cas said. I had a gut feeling and I went with it.

"No."

"Okay," Beth contradicted.

"No, I said no, Beth," I insisted. Beth glowered at me, pulled herself to a sitting position.

"And what? I don't sleep ever again?" She said testily.

"If they're going to come for us, let them come, I don't like this," I replied.

"Well, you don't get a say," she snapped, the words cutting me more than I let on. I knew it was her call, I just wanted her to listen to my gut feeling on this too.

Sam stood up. "Guys…"

"If we leave now…" Cas was speaking with Sam and the room seemed to close in from all directions suddenly.

"Stop it!" I snapped, "everyone needs to just take a chill pill for a minute. I'm not going to watch while my wife just hands over her soul, that just doesn't sound right.."

"It'll be safe, we have somewhere safe to lock it away," Cas replied.

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better about it," I said, tossing my hand up in the air.

"Dean…" Beth grasped my other hand, looking at me with a combination of exhaustion and defeat. I felt my heart melt at the gaze, but was adamant.

"No, find another way. You don't mess with your soul, Beth. You of all people," I said, reaching down to hold her face in my hands. Beth started to cry, tears slipping down her cheeks and I brushed them out of the way. "Oh, baby, come on…"

"I can't keep going like this!" She whispered. "I feel like I'm at my wits end, Dean."

"If you don't do this, Zachariah will find you. Michael will find you," Cas cut in.

"We can deal with that if when we come to that bridge," Sam said, stepping forward, clearly in agreement with me.

"Exactly, what Sam said," I said with a nod. "Right now we have bigger fish to fry. What do we do about this kid?"

"What kid?" Cas asked.

I looked at him in disbelief. "Dude you should check your messages."

Castiel pulled out his phone and dialed his voicemail, walking away as Beth hung her head down, her forehead pressed into my stomach. I groaned, dropped to my knees and lifted her chin.

"We will figure this out, okay?" I promised her. "But enough of the deals involving our souls, huh? I don't want to lose you, Beth. And we don't know what is involved here…" She grasped my shoulders and gulped a couple of large breaths of air, nodding silently. I felt sick, wished there was something more that I could do. I was seriously at the point of slipping her some sleeping pills, and bring the angels dammit, we'd deal with them the only way we knew how: with sarcasm and plain Winchester stubbornness.

"It's lucky you found the boy," Cas said as he hung up his phone, having replayed the messages we'd left him.

"Oh yeah," I said, glancing over my shoulder at him. "Real lucky. What do we do with him?"

"Kill him."

Sam paused in the middle of loosening his tie, his mouth dropping open. I felt Beth startle in my hands and I gaped at the angel.

"Come again?" I asked.

"This child is half demon and half human, but it's far more powerful than either. Other cultures call this hybrid cambion or katako. You know him as the Antichrist," Cas replied. He sat down at the table, and there was a moment of silence followed by a fart noise. Yes!

Cas's face looked slightly confused. "That wasn't me," he said. I grinned at Beth as Cas shifted sideways, tugged on the whoopee cushion that was now deflated underneath him.

"Who put that there?" I asked innocently. Sam shook his head with disbelief, promptly ignoring my prank. Beth at least smiled, that made me happy.

"Anyway, I don't get it. Jesse is the devil's son?" Sam said, bringing us back on point.

"No, of course not," Cas sighed. "Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The Antichrist is not Lucifer's child. It's just demon spawn. But it is one of the devil's greatest weapons in the war against Heaven."

"Well, if Jesse's a demonic howitzer, then what the hell's he doing in Nebraska?" I asked, moving to sit on the bed with Beth.

"The demons lost him. They can't find him. But they're looking."

"And they lost him because?" Beth asked.

"Because of the child's power. It hides him from both angels and demons. For now," Cas replied.

"So he's got, like, a forcefield around him. Well, that's great. Problem solved," I said.

"With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life—something that will draw the demons to him. The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then, with a word, this child will destroy the Host of Heaven," Cas leaned forward, his face stern.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait," I said, standing up. "You're saying that—that Jesse's gonna nuke the angels?"

Cas nodded. "We cannot allow that to happen."

"Wait," Sam said. "We're the good guys. We—we don't just—kill children."

Cas turned to look at him. "A year ago, you would have done whatever it took to win this war."

"Things change," Sam replied.

"And he was wrong," Beth said, standing up. "We were wrong. We don't kill children." I stepped forward as Sam started to look agitated, resting my hand on his shoulder.

"Okay. Hey, look, we are not going to kill him. All right? But we can't leave Jesse here either. We know that. So...we take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do." I suggested.

"You'll kidnap him?" Cas asked. "What is going on in this town, it's what happens when this thing is happy. You cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry."

"He is a child, Cas!" Beth cut in. "He's not an it, like something without thoughts, feelings… he could just as easily be our child!"

"You're too emotionally involved. You haven't slept in days, you are dealing with the loss of your own child. You're not looking at this rationally," Cas replied. Beth's mouth dropped open and she stuttered for a response.

"Ra… rat… rationally? You want to kill this kid based on what he might do!" Cas might be an angel, but he didn't really understand human behaviour - not yet. He was getting better, but this was not an argument he was going to win where Beth and Sam were concerned. Heck, he wasn't even going to win it with me, and I was pretty desperately grasping at straws lately.

"How will you hold him?" Cas asked. "With a thought, he could be halfway around the world."

I frowned, considered. "So we…"

"So we tell him the truth," Sam cut in. "You say Jesse's destined to go dark side—fine. But he hasn't yet. So if we lay it all out for him—what he is, the apocalypse, everything—he might make the right choice."

Everyone fell silent. I knew we were all thinking it. Cas was just the only one with the balls to say it. "You didn't. And I can't take that chance." With the sound of bird wings, Cas vanished, leaving the three of us in the room, reeling from the news.

Jesse's House

Beth's POV

Adrenaline was one way to keep you awake when every other part of your body wanted to shut down. We'd hightailed it to Jesse's house as soon as Cas vanished, Dean cursing the whole way about renegade angels, and how Cas was supposed to be on our side.

He and Sam didn't stop until they'd kicked the door in, moving into the living room where we found Jesse, staring at us in shock.

"Was there a guy here? In a trench coat?" Dean asked. Jesse worthlessly pointed to the floor, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see an action figure standing in the middle of the room, wearing Cas's trenchcoat, his arm raised in the air holding a silver knife. Dean sucked in a sharp breath and picked it up, looking over at me. His eyes told me that we were indeed looking at a miniaturised version of Cas, and Dean placed him on the mantelpiece.

Jesse sat down on the couch, and I joined him. "Was he your friend?" He asked.

"Him?" Dean asked. "No…"

"I did that. But how did I do that?" Jesse asked, looking at Dean.

"You're a superhero," Dean said with a smile.

"I am?"

"Dean!" I snapped, frowning at the man. Dean shrugged slightly and nodded at Jesse.

"Yeah. Yeah. I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy? You're Superman—minus the cape and the go-go boots. See, my—my partners and I, we work for a secret government agency. It's our job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we're here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you'll be trained to fight evil."

I gaped at him, uncertain that this was a wise play. "Like the X-Men?" Jesse asked. Dean's eyes lit up and he nodded quickly.

"Exactly like the X-Men," he chuckled. "In fact, the, uh, guy we're taking you to—he's even in a wheelchair. You'll be a hero. You'll save lives. You'll get the girl. Sounds like fun, right?"

Jesse didn't get to answer. I watched in horror, a sickening feeling of having done this before hitting me as Dean was flung against the wall."

I turned to see Julia walk into the room, her eyes flashing black. "They're lying to you."

I stood up, and Sam stepped in to help Dean, but she was strong. With a wave of her hand, we were slammed against the wall alongside Dean. Jesse stood up, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Stay right there, dreamboat," the demon said to Sam. "Can't hurt you. Orders." She turned eyes to Dean. "You, on the other hand? Hurting you's encouraged." She flicked her wrist and Dean was sent flying through the air, smashing against the opposite wall before being rammed back where he had been.

"No!" I cried, struggling futilely against the demon's hold. This was just like when Lilith had come for Dean, and once again we were helpless to save him.

"Leave him alone!" Jesse yelled out suddenly. Julia's head snapped around to regard the child.

"Jesse. You're beautiful. You have your father's eyes." Jesse frowned.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm your mother," the demon said.

"No, you're not."

"Mm-hm. You're half human...half one of us," she said lovingly.

"She means demons, Jesse!" Dean called out. The woman straightened up, and held out her hand, clenching it into a fist. Dean groaned in pain and I felt the breath leave me as I watched him double over in pain.

"Those people you call your parents—they lied to you, too. You're not theirs—not really." The demon said, leaning back down to talk to Jesse.

"My mom and dad love me," Jesse said.

"Do they? Is—is that why they leave you alone all day? Because they love you so much? These people—these imposters—they told you that the tooth fairy was real and that your toys could hurt you and a hundred other things that aren't true. They love you so much, they made your whole life a lie. Look into your heart, Jesse. You've always known you weren't theirs. You've always known you were different. Everyone has lied to you. They're not FBI agents. And you're not a superhero."

"Then what am I?" Jesse asked.

"You're powerful." The demon replied, running a hand through his hair. "You can have anything you want. You can do anything you want."

"Don't listen to her, Jesse!" I said, seeing the boy's eyes flick to me. The demon growled in frustration, clenched her hand in my direction and I felt stabbing pain shoot through me. I gasped for air, feeling it expelled from my lungs while the demon turned back to Jesse.

"They treated you like a child. Nobody trusted you. Everybody's lied to you. Doesn't that make you angry?" Jesse's eyes narrowed, he bunched his fists and the room started to rattle from the energy he was expelling. The demon looked pleased with herself as the fire in the hearth flared up, and the lights started to flicker in the room.

"See?" She said. "It does make you angry. But I'm telling you the truth, Jesse." The tempo in the room started to pitch higher, the air grew thick with tension as glass objects splintered from the pressure, shattering across the floor.

"Wouldn't it be better if there were no lies? Come with me and you can wash it all clean. Start over. Imagine that—a world without lies." The demon offered.

"She's right." Sam said. "We lied to you." The demon spun on him, her eyes completely black. "But I'll tell you the truth." The demon reached for him, and I heard something crunch as Sam's throat started to constrict.

"I just want… to tell…" Sam's voice was laboured.

"Stop it," Jesse said. Instantly Sam dropped to the floor, released of the demon's hold. He gasped for breath, and looked up at Jesse. "I want to hear what he has to say." I felt the pressure on my own chest ease as the demon's attention was split between multiple people.

"You're stronger than I thought," she said to Jesse, impressed with the power the boy was exuding. Sam struggled to his feet, held out a hand to Jesse.

"We lied to you. And I'm sorry. So here's the truth. I'm Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean and my sister Beth. W-we hunt monsters," Sam said.

"Except when you are the monster. Right, Sammy?" The demon asked.

"And that woman right there, her name is Julia. She's your mother. But the thing inside of her, the thing that you're talking to—it's a demon," Sam continued. Jesse looked uncertain.

"A demon?"

"He's done nothing but lie to you since the moment you met him. Don't listen to him. Punish him." The demon said. Jesse looked frustrated, frowned at the woman.

"Sit down and shut up." A chair scooted up behind the demon, forcing her to sit down. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing was coming out.

Sam looked at her, and then back at Jesse. "There's, uh, kind of a...a war between angels and demons, and...you're a part of it."

"I'm just a kid," Jesse said.

"You can go with her if you want," Sam said. "I can't stop you. No one can. But if you do...millions of people will die."

"She said I was half demon. Is that true?"

"Yes. But you're half human, too. You can do the right thing. You've got choices, Jesse. But if you make the wrong ones, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life."

"Why are you telling me this?!" The boy asked, his eyes scared.

"Because I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn't," Sam said softly. Jesse's face turned contemplative, and he thought silently about what he'd just heard, weighing up the facts. After a moment he looked at the demon, and clenched his fist.

"Get out of her," he ordered. The chair flew back against the wall, black smoke pouring out of Julia's mouth and disappearing up the chimney, through the now darkened fireplace. The force holding me to the wall was suddenly gone, and I hit the floor, landing on my hands and knees, gasping for breath.

"How did you do that?" Dean asked beside me.

"I just did," Jesse explained. Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

"Kid… you're awesome."

I laughed at Dean's impressed thoughts and rolled on to my back, groaning. "Oh I'm getting too old for this," I murmured, Dean nodded and placed an arm around me, pulling me next to him.

"Tell me about it."

Jesse walked over to Julia, who was still slumped in the chair, passed out cold. "Is she gonna be all right?" He asked. I looked at her, thinking about what she had to be going through, what I had gone through.

"Eventually," I said softly.

I saw Dean's hand move, and he picked up the little figurine that was Cas, holding it in the air for Jesse to see.

"Look, uh, truth is, he's kind of a buddy of mine. Is there any way you could turn him back?" Dean asked.

"He tried to kill me." Jesse pointed out.

Dean grimaced. "Right. Uh. But he's a—he's a good guy. He was just confused," he offered. Jesse remained silent, an awkward silence hanging in the air. "Okay. It's been a long night. We'll...talk about it later," Dean said finally.

"What now?" Jesse asked. Dean exchanged a look with me that told me he was just as bewildered about our plans as anyone else.

"Now we take you someplace safe, get you trained up. You'd be handy in a fight, kid."

"What if I don't want to fight?" He asked.

"Jesse," I said, getting to my feet and moving to sit in front of the boy, who had sunk on to the couch, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "You're powerful. More powerful than...pretty much anything we've ever seen. That makes you…"

"A freak," he said.

"To some people, maybe," Sam said. "But not to us. See, we're kind of freaks ourselves."

Jesse looked from Sam to me, and sighed. "I can't stay here, can I?"

It was heart breaking to see him fighting with the idea of leaving behind his parents, everything he had ever known. I knew that feeling all too well, and it was soul destroying. "No," I said sadly. " The demons know where you are, and more will be coming."

"I won't go without my mom and dad," Jesse insisted.

"There's nothing more important than family. We get that. And if you really want to take them with you, we'll back your play. But you gotta understand—it's gonna be dangerous for them, too." Sam stepped in.

"What do you mean?" Jesse asked.

"Our dad...he would take us with him wherever he went," Dean said. Jesse thought about this, realised that we were on our own.

"Where is he now?"

"Dead," I said quietly, looking him in the eyes. "A demon killed him."

"Look, Jesse...once you're in this fight…" Dean said, kneeling down on the floor in front of the kid. "You're in it till the end, win or lose."

"What should I do?" Jesse whispered.

"We can't tell you. It's your choice. It's not fair. I know," Sam said, standing behind us. Jesse took a deep breath, nodded, and then seemed to reach some kind of understanding inside of himself.

"Can I go see my parents? I, I need to...say goodbye."

"Of course," I smiled, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. I looked at him, this was a kid that could easily have been any of us, could have been Sam in the right situation with the yellow-eyed demon. Jesse took my hand, pulled me with him as he walked toward the stairs.

"They're looking for you," he said suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"I can hear the bells," he replied and it dawned on me what he was talking about.

"You can?"

"Yes. I don't know how, but I know they're looking for you," he supplied. I pressed my lips together in resignation. Now that the adrenaline had passed, I was feeling the effects of the last few days more than ever. I yawned, and nodded at him.

"That's right, just like they will be you," I said to him.

"Who are they? Demons?" He asked.

I smirked, shook my head. "No, no it's not demons looking for me, Jesse. It's angels. They want Dean." Jesse glanced over at Dean and Sam who were watching us from the living room. He closed his eyes and reached out, stepping up a few steps on the staircase until he could touch the top of my head.

When he opened them again, he smiled. "There. They can't find either of us now."

"What did you do?" I asked, looking at his curiously. The ringing in my head was gone, the migraine that had been threatening to take over was nothing more than a bad dream.

"Made you invisible to the bells. Me too," he said, and then he climbed the stairs to find his parents.

I turned to look at Dean, smiling brightly, he caught the improvement in my attitude almost immediately, waved me over and wrapped me in his arms as we waited for Jesse to come back downstairs.

Dean's POV

We waited half an hour. Long enough for Beth to tell us what Jesse had done for her, and how we didn't have to worry about the Bells of Heaven anymore. Sam was examining the Castiel action figure when I made the decision to go check on the kid.

"He's been up there a long time," I said, leading the way up the stairs. When we reached the bedroom that was Jesse's we found it empty.

"He's gone," Cas's voice sounded behind us, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the angel restored to his normal self.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Jesse put everyone in town back to normal—the ones still alive. Then he vanished." Cas replied. I turned, noticing a piece of paper on Jesse's bed. Picking it up, I opened it, reading the short note before handing it to Sam.

"What does it say?" Dean asked.

"That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he's sorry," Sam replied.

"How do we find him?"

"With the boy's powers, we can't. Not unless he wants to be found." Cas said.

Several Hours Later
Motel Room

Beth's POV

We were packing our things, more than ready to get back on the road. I had already called dibs on the backseat, nothing was going to stop me from curling up with a pillow and blanket, and sleeping for the next however long we took to get where we were going. Not that we knew where that was, I had the feeling Dean was just going to point the car in a direction and drive. We were all feeling a bit tied down.

"You think Jesse's gonna be okay?" Dean said as he zipped up his duffel.

Sam took a deep breath as he sat down on his bed. "I hope so."

"You know, we destroyed that kid's life by telling him the truth," Dean said. I looked up from where I was wrapping my prayer candle in one of my shirts to protect it.

"We didn't have a choice, Dean," I said. He nodded, his brow furrowing in frustration.

"Yeah. You know, I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke—protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. The more I think about it...the more I wish Dad had lied to us."

"Yeah, me too," Sam said softly.

I felt somewhat differently about it. My father had lied to me about it, kept the darkness hidden behind a facade of middle school cheerleading and high school debate team. None of that helped me when Ruby came for him, if he'd just told me… maybe I'd have been wearing that anti-possession charm that was now tattooed at the back of my neck… maybe… I stopped, shaking my head. I could maybe my life away, had done so for many years following his death. All we had was now.

Dean picked up his bag, sighed and headed for the door. "Come on, let's get outta here."

Sam hesitated, a resistance in his stance which instantly had me on edge. "Shouldn't we stay another night? Get some rest?" He said. Dean looked at Sam, rolled his eyes.

"No, it's time to get moving again," he said.

Sam shook his head sharply. "So first you drag me into town, and now you're dragging me back out?" He asked, his tone obvious. He hadn't wanted to come on this case, and now that it was over, he was still being ordered around.

"You ain't steering this boat," Dean said shortly, walking toward the door. " Let's go, chop chop."

"You know, this isn't gonna work," Sam said, I paused in the middle of zipping up my own bag. Dean stopped, turned around.

"What isn't?"

"Us," Sam said. "You, me, together, I—I thought it could, but it can't."

"You're the one that wanted back in, chief," Dean replied, tossing a look of frustration at me. I tensed, not sure of what was going through Sam's head.

"And you're the one who called me back in," Sam replied.

"I still think we got some trust building to do." Dean said. I questioned the logic in saying it outright. Sam was still struggling with everything he'd done, or failed to do, that much was clear in the things he'd said to Jesse.

"How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged.

"Till I say so." I suspected that Dean's answer wasn't going to fly anymore with Sam, soon had it confirmed.

"Look. I know what I did. What I've done," Sam said. "And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier."

"So what am I supposed to do, just let you off the hook?" Dean asked.

"No. You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll never punish me as much as I'm punishing myself, but the point is, if we're gonna be a team, the three of us—it has to be a two-way street." I found myself slightly amused that even with our trio it was still Sam and against us in the mentality. I made a mental note that it hadn't been like that before Dean went to Hell, yes, it had often been Dean and I making the decisions when we were younger, but many times Sam and I had ganged up on Dean too.

"So we just go back to the way we were before?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam said, "because we were never that way before. Before didn't work. How do you think we got here?"

"What do you mean Sam?" I asked, taking a few steps to place myself in between the two guys.

"Beth… one of the reasons I went off with Ruby...was to get away from you guys."

"What?" I asked, my voice slightly higher than intended.

"It made me feel strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother."

"Are you saying this is my fault?" Dean snapped, his face turning hard and angry.

"No, it's my fault. All I'm saying is that, if we're gonna do this, we have to do it different, we can't just fall into the same rut." Sam said. Dean shook his head and I could feel the pressure building."

"Sammy, what do you want us to do?" I asked, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. Sam looked down at it, sighed at me.

"You're gonna have to let me grow up, for starters." I nodded, pulled my hand back, seeing the little boy we'd protected for so many years starting to slip away. Maybe he was right, maybe we did need to start changing how we interacted with Sam.

Dean seemed to be mulling it over. "Yeah, okay, fine. You want us to stop protecting you Sam? Okay. But you gotta give us something to work with, you gotta start acting like you're in this fight for real, not just here out of some self-pity."

"Dean, how many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" Sam asked.

"Enough," I said, looking from Sam to Dean. "No more apologies, we've done what we did because we thought we were doing the right thing. All of us. We can't change the past," I'd given it a lot of thought. It was part of what I'd had to let go of, what I'd prayed to be released from. My anger at Sam, for choosing Ruby over us. Ruby, of all people. But he hadn't known, none of us had.

"Okay," Dean nodded. "Hell, maybe you're right. I mean, I'm not exactly Mister Innocent in this whole mess either you know." Sam looked at him questioningly and Dean sucked in a deep breath. "I broke the first seal."

"You didn't know," I whispered. Sam's mouth dropped open, and I looked at him. "In Hell, the first seal was for a righteous man to spill blood in Hell." For the first time in Winchester history, a tense conversation didn't deteriorate into a shitstorm, and Sam accepted what he was hearing with maturity rather than defensiveness or blame.

"Oh, Dean, I'm sorry…" he said. "But you didn't know."

"Yeah well, neither did you," I pointed out to Sam, who looked down.

"She's right," Dean nodded. "I'm not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but, you did kill Lilith."

"And started the apocalypse."

"Which neither of us saw coming, I mean, who'd have thought killing Lilith would've been a bad thing?" Dean said, pausing. "Point is, I was so worried about watching your every move that I didn't see what it was actually doing to you."

"Yeah," I said softly, nodding.

"So for that I'm sorry," Dean said.

Sam looked at him, then at me, a tinge of hope and a lot of relief and happiness in those dark eyes. He stood up and grabbed his bag, hoisting it over his shoulder, and then took the handles to mine, smiling. "Come on, let's get out of here." I wrapped my arm around his waist and nodded, catching a smile lift in the corner of Dean's mouth as he turned and walked out to the Impala, opening the trunk.

"So where do we go from here?" Dean asked, throwing his bag into the back.

"They way I see it, we got one shot at surviving this," Sam said.

"What's that?" I asked, sliding my hand down Dean's back as we reached the back of the car.

"Maybe I am on deck for the devil, maybe same with you and Michael, maybe there's no changing that," Sam said, pulling us back to the pre-destiny.

"Well, that's encouraging," Dean muttered. I bit my lip, not wanting to argue, but Dean shot me a look that told me he wasn't on board with Sam's theory.

"But, we can stop wringing our hands over it. We gotta just grab onto whatever's in front of us, kick its ass, and go down fighting," Sam finished. That got a smile from Dean, who considered the statement and then nodded, slipping his arm around my waist.

"I can get on board with that," he replied. Sam nodded, looked at me.

"Beth?" I bit my lip, thinking about the last few days, and everything Dean and I had been discussing about kids. Once again we were putting our plans on hold for Sam, and I felt like it would always be that way. He looked at me with eyes full of hope, and I couldn't shatter that.

"Okay. But we're gonna have to do it on the same level," I said.

Dean grinned slightly. "You got it sugarpie," he said softly, Sam nodding.

"I say we get the hell outta here," Dean said after a moment.

"Hell yeah," Sam agreed. Dean started to head for the driver seat, then hesitated, looking at the keys in his hands. Sam caught the movement, looked at him quizzically.

"You wanna drive?" Dean asked, offering the keys to Sam, who looked at them like he'd just been offered the keys to the city.

"You sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, looking at me. "Yeah, I could, uh...we could both use a nap."

I shook my head at Dean as he climbed into the backseat, patting his knee for me to lie down and use as a pillow. I crawled in after him and kissed his cheek as Sam put our bags into the trunk and slammed it shut. "That was very… mature, of you," I said.

"Mature nothing. I've been staying up with you these last few nights, I'm beat," Dean replied, slipping his arm around my shoulders and pulling my head into his shoulder. I buried my nose in under his chin and sighed. "I saw that look in your eye," he said softly as Sam climbed into the front and started the engine. He pulled back to look at me, concerned candy apple eyes stared into mine. "And we haven't finished our conversation yet."

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Song for this chapter is: World on Fire by Sarah MacLachlan

I skipped Fallen Idols because it bored me. Some of the heart to heart moments were taken from there and worked into here, which you might have noticed. Fallen Idols will make a debut as a flashback eventually, with young relationship Dean and Beth, along with John and Cole - Earthhangel and I just have to get it happening.

Hello to all my new readers, great to have you here! Please leave me a review and tell me how you're liking the series. We're along way to go, but I have so many plans for this that I'm hoping you join us for the ride! Thank you all to my regular readers who leave me comments and reviews, your ongoing support is what keeps me going!

Thanks to my beta Earthhangel who is always there for me to bounce ideas off and run with the plot - she knows my plans as well as I do! If you like John Winchester fics, be sure to check out her story How To Save A Life.

If there's any Star Trek fans out there, I've just published a new fic called Stars are Blind which is a Leonard 'Bones' McCoy / OC fic, with Jim thrown in there too. Working on a bit of a Harry/Hermione/Ron friendship feel to it, with of course the inevitable romance between Bones and the OC. I'm enjoying it, it'll follow the JJ Abrams movies, but there's some original pre-movie storyline in there too.

Up next, Dean grows old, and it's not just in spirit!