Sam pulled the Impala up in front of the church, looking subversively over his shoulder for any threats. The coast was clear. Dean slid out of the back seat and hoisted Kat up into his arms. She hadn't woken during the ride from the hospital to the church and worry was etched on Dean's face. He looked expectantly from the small kicking form in the car seat and Sam jumped into action, opening the door, and picking up the carrier.
Both men hurried into the church taking as much care as they could in their haste. Dean nudged the bedroom door open and placed Kat on the bed. His adrenaline was raging but he refused to give in to the immense fear he felt. What if she didn't wake? How would he care for his son? What could Rowena be sending next?
Sam followed him into the bedroom with the carrier and placed it next to Kat. They stared for a moment at the new life when they felt a whoosh next to them.
"Cas?" Dean exclaimed, but it was Barachiel who had appeared.
"The demon must be dealt with," he said simply.
"Yeah, no shit" Dean snapped.
"Dean," Sam counseled. Dean marched straight up to the angel, who he towered over, staring him dead in the eyes. "Can you protect them?" He asked. "Yes," Barachiel said unfaltering. This seemed to satisfy Dean who turned on his heels and walked out into the other room. Crowley, still trapped motionless under Sam's devil's trap, lay by the entrance to the church. Dean knelt over him and swung his arm back with wild ferocity and punched him in the jaw.
Crowley jerked up and spluttered. He coughed up thick blood which stained his teeth a chilling red as he flashed them in a smile at Dean. "I see I've succeeded." Crowley believed he'd killed Kat, and Dean wasn't about to let him know otherwise. "This is the last day of your miserable life." Dean sneered maliciously. He stood. "Sam!" he barked. "Fix the warding".
Sam regarded his brother as a wild animal, one that didn't know it was being watched. Sam felt that at any moment Dean could burst into a frenzy of vicious energy, going in for the kill. He did as he was told. He wasn't about to question his brother now.
A blaze of orange signaling sunset was streaking across the sky by the time they had successfully trapped Crowley in the Impala and his meatsuit. The warding was redrawn and Dean climbed into the driver seat and peeled out of the dirt patch in front of the church. Crowley sat wordlessly in the backseat staring down oblivion. Sam had no doubt he knew he was about to die. He reflected on all the years they'd been trapped in a cat and mouse game with Crowley. It was an odd feeling, knowing that was about to come to an end. He glanced furtively at Dean who looked stoic as he raced down the stretch of road.
An hour passed before Dean seemed pleased with the remoteness of their location. A dense forest lined the road on either side. He got out of the cabin and moved to the back of the Impala where he grabbed Crowley by the scruff of his neck and dragged him from the car towards the woods.
The three of them walked for 20 minutes before Dean forced Crowley to a stop. They stood for a moment listening to the night sounds of the forest. Singsong chirps and rustling played for a few minutes as if on a loop before Crowley spoke.
"I can admit defeat Squirrel, "said Crowley resignedly.
"Get on your knees," commanded Dean. Crowley did so, turning to face him. "I'm going to kill you now Crowley," Dean stated matter of factly. "We have your bones, so there's no coming back this time."
Sam remembered that Dean was correct in his statement, the bones were in Bobby's panic room, under the rubble of his home on the junkyard property. The reality of the moment set in for Sam. He held hatred in his heart for Crowley. He remembered watching the knife slide into Kat's back. Watching her perplexed face whiten as the pain set in. Sam hatred Crowley for what he had done, not for the pain it caused his brother but for the pain, it could have also caused Sam, Kat, and his nephew.
The world was suddenly much bigger for Sam and Dean. So much more was at stake. With the weight of a new beginning on his shoulder, Dean walked behind Crowley placing the demon blade on his throat.
"You went after my family. That was never a fight you were going to win." Dean said with startling clarity. He annunciated every syllable. It genuinely intimidated Sam. He was just beginning to understand this new depth of his brother's intensity.
"You are an admirable man Dean Winchester." Crowley's last statement froze Dean's hand for a moment. It did not last long however and came down with a renewed force over Crowley's throat. Blood spewed down his suit jacket and his eyes went red. As Dean pulled the blade away and dropped the body face first in the dirt the demon in the flesh flickered and exploded black dust out of his orifices.
"Don't think for a second they're not watching." Dean broke the momentary silence. He looked from left to right surveying the foliage. "Let's hit the road." They left Crowley's corpse in the dirt.
Back in the Impala, Sam felt restless. They needed a plan of attack.
"We should have a funeral for Kat," he suggested. Dean rounded on him with fire in his eyes.
"She's not dead." He affirmed.
"No," said Sam, "but it'd be beneficial for Rowena to think she didn't make it. She needs to feel like this is her victory. Maybe she'll let her guard down and we can find a weak spot".
"Ok," said Dean.
The boys pushed through the door of the church after the sun had gone down. The blackness of outside was met with the warmth of a lamp on a side table. Barachiel was sitting on the couch, posture straight. He had James swaddled in his hospital blankets laying on his legs. The small form was kicking and squirming. His small grunts sounded agitated. Dean went immediately to him and scooped him into his arms. His face completely lost. He looked to the angel and Sam as if for help.
"He is hungry," says Barachiel.
"Yeah- right," Dean begins to stumble out. Before he can finish Barachiel has disappeared and reappeared brandishing a can of infant formula and a package of bottles. Sam was filled with an immense thankfulness for this angel, and his compassion.
"I must go," Barachiel explains and Dean takes the packages from him and walks to the small kitchenette wordlessly.
"Thank you…for everything," says Sam and the angel disappears. He turns to his brother, "give him to me."
Dean looks tentatively at the small face as if he can't bear to have his arms empty before relinquishing him to his brother. Dutifully he measures out the formula and heats the water. When the bottle is ready he returns to the couch and takes back his son. Dean is overwhelmed by how much he looks like Kat. Thick, black hair and full cheeks that someone how seems to be filled with much joy already. Sam steps back and watches his brother. Dean sits wordlessly, humbled by his child. More devout than a priest he tilts the bottle to ensure James is comfortable and fed. After the baby rejects the bottle and grunts Dean lift shim over his shoulder and rubs his back.
Sam retreats into the small bedroom where Kat lies still motionless. He turns on a warm dim lamp and lays a crocheted afghan over her small form. He would never voice the sentiment to Dean but Kat looked awful. Her pallid skin looked as if it had a fluorescent light shining on it. It had regained little color from when Sam had first carried her through the hospital doors. He sat beside her and placed his middle and forefinger over her wrist to check for her pulse. Faint, but rapid pulsing met his skin.
He was comforted slightly that she seemed to be strong, albeit unconscious. Angel cure-alls were bound to need time to work, right? He sighed long and hard, lamenting how much more difficult their lives were about to become. They had to get back to the bunker. They needed a safe place, but with Lebanon being watched by Rowena's lackeys how could they get back there? He pushed Kat's limp hair out of her face and exited the room.
"Her heart rate is strong," he announced as he closed the door.
"Shhhh," Dean chided. He was standing over the car seat staring at the sleeping form on his son. He looked as if he was about to break. his heart, once secluded underneath densely woven tissues of regrets and jadedness was about to burst and spill raw emotion onto the floor. With heavy energy, his brother turned and placed his finger on his lips. He walked to the linen closet and began gathering towels and scraps of paper he found. He laid out another afghan and placed the items on top, to mimic the shape of a human body. One the size of Kat's. Sam went to the Impala for lighter fluid and returned, working in quick tandem with his brother knowing that both of them just wished for this day to be over.
They stood outside in the wet cold. The pyre blazed, creating a dance of shadows over the trees and sandy cliffs. Dean looked on as, figuratively, the love of his life burned. They had been to more hunters funerals than they could count. Dean remembered Charlie's, his fathers. This could've eclipsed them all had it been real.
Where do you think they are?" Sam whispered under his breath.
"Oh, they're out there," Dean confirmed through pursed lips, surveying the landscape. "Rowena's got troops stationed all around us. She's a royal bitch but, consider this the niceties of war," he said.
"Like Achilles granting 12 days of peace after Hector's death," Sam mused.
"Yeah...whatever that is," Dean remarked. "Alright, we've stood long enough, I'm cold...and I want to check on James." Dean shrugged his jacket around himself. The child had fit himself into their lives in a monumental way. Sam could remember a time when his brother would have pulled him away from situations like this to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Now it was to ensure the wellbeing of his son. And better yet, he wanted to, was compelled to.
A sudden noise spun Sam around and Dean had his gun out in an instant. They walked a few paces around the blaze. Sam flanking Dean, both guns held aloft. A figure emerged. Blackened and filthy. It was a human form, swaggering towards them with an arm extended forward. His voice reached them before they registered the face.
"Oh...Katherine." The cadence of the gravelly, monotoned voice was unmistakable. He sank to his knees, in awe of the savage blaze before him, taking in the loss.
"Cas," Sam breathed. He rushed to the grieving angel. "Let's get inside," Sam urged.
"Dean, the child?" Cas breathed hopelessly. He was filthy. Soot covered his signature overcoat, grime caked itself under his nails.
"Inside. now," Dean commanded, helping to lift Cas to his feet. The men made their way back to the church with Cas unable to pull his eyes from the pyre. Dean opened and shut the door after them forcefully. After ensuring it was deadbolted he brushed past Cas and Sam to the carrier where James was sleeping. The baby remained undisturbed. His small chest rose and fell with a cherubic breath. Dean felt Cas appear beside him.
"He is strong," the angel said as he ran his finger over James' forehead.
"Yeah well, let's hope his mother is too," Dean said as he went to the fridge and pulled out a beer from the packSam had bought to go with dinner. He had just realized how exhausted he was, how desperately he needed to be off his feet, how he needed to have the electricity cut from his nerves. He felt like a live wire, flailing around frayed at the ends.
"Where is she?" Cas asked. Dean gestured to the wooden door with his bottle. Sam launched into an explanation of the past two days. Cas nodded gravely as he did.
"I have used a significant amount of power to get back from the Other," Cas stated. "But if Barachiel used his grace on Katherine, we should have her back soon."
"What is it like there Cas?" Sam asked
"Devilish creatures on every corner. It is dark and unspeakable monsters reside there. It is like this world, but in shadow and abandoned. If Rowena unleashed that environment here, I do not know what will come of it," Cas explained.
"First things first we have to get to a better location. We need to see if we can go back to the bunker. I also need supplies. He can't live in that car seat forever," Dean listed.
"I think what we all need right now is rest. Cas, get yourself cleaned up and you take the couch, We'll make a run first thing in the morning for supplies, Dean" Sam said.
Dean downed the last of the beer and picked up the car seat. It took all of his energy to drag his feet into the small bedroom. The dim lamp was still shining and he placed James on a wicker chair. He didn't know much about children but he knew this night was just beginning. How often did they need to eat? Would he just sleep or would he scream? Dean couldn't be bothered to continue musing. he plopped down on the edge of the bed and took Kat's motionless hand fiercely in his own. He raised it to his lips and kissed, closing his eyes and exhaling. When he opened his eyes they were brimming with tears.
"You have gotta wake up for me, I can't do this on my own.
It's like I need you to help me breathe. It scares the hell out of me but I love it. I need you by my side and so does he." Dean stopped his monologue to look at his son, and the tears burst over his lashes and he breathed deeply to steady himself.
"I am never going to let you out of my sight again, do you hear me? You've run into the damn flames for me more times than I can count. I won't let this happen again. You're mine, for the long haul." Dean collected himself using the bravado he'd shown many times. He leaned down to kiss Kat's warm forehead. He turned off the light and laid next to her watching her silhouette rise and fall swathed in the moonlight until he fell asleep.