First Born Part 1

Dean and Angela sat at a dingy-looking bar. Angela stared at her phone, hoping for a text back from Sam. Dean watched a pretty waitress hustle by. He smirked at her as Crowley appeared.

"So… is that boudoir smile for me?" Crowley asked, appearing next to Dean.

Both Dean and Angela startled, drawing the demon knife and an angel blade from their jackets.

"At least buy me a drink first." Crowley scoffed.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "I said the next time I see you—

"Dead. Yes, rings a bell," Crowley rolled his eyes. "But let's not dwell on the past, shall we? This bar is a bust. That waitress is trouble with a capital VD, and your prey, Gadreel, has left the building. So, it's time to move on to more pressing matters, like destroying Abaddon."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Angela muttered. "The Knights of Hell aren't exactly the dying kind."

"But there is something that can kill a knight. The weapon that the archangels used to execute them—the First Blade." Crowley explained.

Dean and Angela shared confused, but curious looks.

"We've never heard of it," Dean muttered. "Can I kill you now?"

"I've been chasing the blade for decades," Crowley continued. "The closest I got to it was when one of my droogs—Smitty—got wind of a protégé demon of Abaddon's who claimed knowledge of the blade. Sadly," he sighed. "Before Smitty could nab the guy, a hunter by the name of John Winchester nabbed the protégé. I'm here to see if there's anything in the John Winchester memorial library that might lead us to the First Blade—to killing Abaddon."

"You want to hunt? With us?" Angela chuckled.

"I do love a good buddy comedy, Bambi," Crowley smirked.

Dean scoffed slightly and reluctantly took John's journal out of his jacket and set it on the table. He rummaged through the pages.

"Oh, yeah. Here it is." Dean muttered. "Yeah, he picked up a protégé who had bones with Abaddon, but that's about all it says in here."

"What do those numbers in the margins means?" Crowley inquired.

"None of your business." Dean snapped.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You're gonna play hard to get? We have time for a montage?"

Dean sighed heavily. "It's a code—one of my dad's storage lockers. He may have put something about the case there."

"And what does the 'T' next to the numbers means?" Crowley asked.

"Not a clue," Dean replied.

"Fine. Let's go find daddy's man cave, then, shall we?"

"And how do we know this isn't a trap?" Angela sighed.

"You… don't." Crowley shrugged. "That's what makes it fun."

Crowley shot the two hunters a wily grin and headed out the door. Dean and Angela shared a looked before following the demon.

~/~\~

Lebanon, Kansas

Grace sat in her highchair next to Castiel in the main room of the bunker. Castiel went to take a bite of his PB & J sandwich when the door opened above him.

"Mm." Castiel grimaced, clearly not enjoying the sandwich.

Grace giggled at her uncle's displeased face as she chewed on her teething toy.

"Hey." Sam greeted as he walked down the stairs. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Grace's head. "Hi, sweet girl."

Grace squealed happily and smiled up at her father.

"Tastes like… molecules." Castiel muttered.

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"When I was human, you know, I had to eat constantly. It was kind of annoying." Castiel explained.

"Yeah, a lot of human things are pretty annoying." Sam agreed.

"But… I enjoyed the taste of food—particularly peanut butter with grape jelly." Castiel continued. "Not jam. Jam I found unsettling."

Sam sat on the edge of the table. "So, what? Now you can't taste PB and J?"

"No, I-I taste every molecule." Castiel sighed.

"Not the sum of its parts, huh?" Sam asked.

"It's overwhelming. It's disgusting." Castiel stared longingly at the sandwich. "I miss you, PB and J." he sighed as he stood up. "We need to continue your healing. We're almost done."

Castiel put to fingers on Sam's forehead and started to heal him. Suddenly, he looked a little concerned.

"What?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Nothing." Castiel lied.

Sam slapped his hand away. "You're a terrible liar."

Castiel almost looked offended. "That is not true. I once deceived and betrayed you, Dean, and Angela."

"Okay, that's not the point." Sam sighed. "Cas, what's wrong?"

"I noticed something," he started. "It's, uh… it's resonating inside you."

"What?" Sam pressed.

"Something angelic," Castiel answered.

"Okay, uh, what the hell does that mean?" Sam asked.

"Maybe we should call Angela and Dean," Castiel suggested.

"No." Sam clenched his jaw slightly. "We'll handle this."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley walked into John's storage locker. Dean removed the hood over Crowley's head.

"Is all this really necessary?" Crowley huffed. "I mean, I've been inside Sam. We're practically family."

Dean's eyes flashed with rage and he shoved Crowley up against a shelf. "Listen to me. We are the furthest thing from family. You got that, dickbag?"

Angela gently rested a hand on one of Dean's arms, and he stepped away from the demon.

"Oh, yeah," Crowley muttered.

"Now, you want to hunt?" Angela raised her brows. "Let's hunt."

Dean opened a small gate and he and Angela walked through. Crowley went to follow, but realized that the entrance was guarded by a Devil's Trap. He rolled his eyes.

"I'll be right here." He called out as he looked around. "So, what do you call this décor, anyway? Rustic obsessive? Paranoid deco?"

"Here we go," Dean pulled out a file. "Looks like my dad was working with another hunter when he nabbed Abaddon's pet." He held up a photo of a woman.

"I guess the 'T' didn't stand for terrible father," Crowley muttered. "It stood for—

"Tara." Dean finished. "Doesn't ring a bell. Alright, looks like they interrogated the demon. Then they exorcized him. But not before he mentioned the First Blade."

"I love it when I'm right." Crowley smiled smugly.

"Yeah, well, the rest of the file's empty, genius." Dean sassed.

"What? Didn't they teach note-taking at Hunters Hogwarts?" Crowley raised his brows.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's go see if Tara's still kicking."

~/~\~

"I've found, well, something," Castiel started. "It's a detail about when angels leave their vessels… I think. It's, uh, Enochian, which can be a bit flowery. 'And the departed shall remain, and the remains shall be the departed'."

"Okay, so, when the angel leaves a vessel, they leave behind a piece of themselves," Sam replied. "Like, uh… like an angelic fingerprint."

"Whatever you want to call it, this piece of the departed contains grace," Castiel explained.

Sam's brows shot up. "Wait, you're saying there's angelic grace inside of me?"

"Yes. But it's fading each time I heal you." Castiel explained.

"Okay," Sam sighed. "Is that good or bad?"

"Well, it's harmless," Castiel assured. "But the grace itself… might be helpful."

He set down the book and picked up a file titled 'On the Inner Workings of Angels'.

"According to this, we may be able to use the grave that remains inside you to track Gadreel… if we can extract it."

"How would we do that?" Sam asked curiously.

"Well… Painfully." Castiel held up a photo of a syringe with a 4-inch long needle. "The Men of Letters believed that you could perform a tracking spell with extracted grave, but they were never able to test the theory."

"Well, they didn't have a guinea pig, but we do," Sam muttered.

Castiel looked up at Sam, confused. "You have a guinea pig? Where?"

"Me, Cas," Sam replied. "I'm the guinea pig."

"Oooh." Castiel nodded, looking back at the photo. "Any idea where that is?"

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley walked into a quaint pawn shop. A slightly older, blonde, fit woman was leaning on the counter readings a comic book. She looked up when she heard the door open.

"Tara?" Dean asked.

"That's what the sign says." She retorted. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Hope so. John Winchester ring a bell? I'm his son."

"You Sam or Dean?" she eyed him.

"Dean."

Suddenly, behind the counter, Tara winced and grabbed her right knee.

"Well, didn't you grow up pretty." She commented. "Still in the family business?"

"Yeah, born and raised. Listen, a bunch of years back, you worked a job with my dad," he explained. "Well, me, my sister-in-law, and our, uh, associate h—

Tara raised a shotgun and aimed it at Dean, Angela, and Crowley. "Ever since '92, I get a painful little tickle in what's left of my knee whenever a demon is around."

"Hunters. So trusting." Crowley muttered sarcastically. "I'll go grab a latte while you get this sorted."

Crowley snapped his fingers to disappear, but nothing happened.

"Devil's trap under the knock-off Persian, jackass." Tara retorted.

Dean moved the rug with his boot and sighed. "Tara, listen, our, uh, associate—

"Friends—besties, actually." Crowley cut in.

"Not helping." Angela rolled her eyes.

"Not caring," Tara replied.

"Look, I'm the King of Hell. They're Winchesters." Crowley sighed. "There's a reason why we're working together."

"Yeah," Tara scoffed. "It's called possession."

She grabbed a bottle of holy water and splashed it on Dean and Angela's faces. However, the two hunters just looked mildly annoyed.

"See? We're good. Okay?" Angela sighed. "Yes, you're right. He is a jackass, but he's helping us on this."

"Helping you with what?" Tara questioned.

"You and my old man found a demon who knew something about the First Blade," Dean explained. "We need to find that blade."

"Well, hell. You are as handsome as John. And as dumb, too, if you're looking for that old relic." Tara scoffed.

"We're hunting a Knight of Hell," Dean added.

"Why?" she raised her brows. "They're all dead."

"One came back—Abaddon." Angela sighed heavily.

Tara huffed and set a file down on the counter. "The demon said the archangels used a weapon that could kill the Knights of Hell. We're never heard of anything like the Knights of Hell or a First Blade. Your dad thought he was lying, trying to save himself," she explained. "We took him out, and we had a lovely weekend together. Then we went our separate ways. But I could never let the blade go. Something like that could really give a hunter an edge, you know? I looked all over the world—destroyed my knee and my life. And all I found?" she unlocked a wall safe and took out a tray full of ingredients. "A location spell for the blade that I could never finish. Couldn't find one ingredient—essence of Kraken."

"Kraken?" Crowley asked. "I got a warehouse full of Kraken essence in Belize. Break the trap, I can be there and back before you say, 'presto.'"

"Presto," Tara replied.

"I can help." He assured. "Dean? Angela?"

"He wants Abaddon as dead as we do," Dean assured.

"If your daddy could see you now," Tara muttered.

Tara walked around the counter and pushed back the rug with her foot. Then she took out her shotgun and shot the Devil's Trap, breaking the outer ring. Crowley suddenly disappeared.

"You know," she sighed. "Even if that blade is real, it ain't worth being bosom buddies with the King of Hell."

"Abaddon? Way worse." Dean replied. "We'll deal with Crowley after. Trust me."

"You sound just like your dad… when he said he'd call me." Tara smirked.

Dean was rather lost for words and Angela just raised her brows. Crowley reappeared, saving the hunters. He held a small jar in his hand.

"Shall we?" he smirked.

Dean, Angela, and Tara mixed the spell while Crowley looked on curiously. They lied out the map of the United States on the counter and Tara poured the liquid over it. Dean lit a match and it flamed up. The flamed spread to the outside corners of the map and then quickly burned away all of the map, except for the state of Missouri.

"Missouri. Figures." Tara muttered.

"Would you care to join us?" Crowley offered.

"Them? Anytime. You? Never." Tara replied.

"Thank you." Dean and Angela replied.

"Good luck," Tara replied sincerely. "You're gonna need it."

~/~\~

Missouri

The Impala pulled up to a little farmhouse, and Dean, Angela, and Crowley got out of the car. Crowley paused suddenly as they walked toward the house.

"Wait," he stopped the hunters.

"What?" Angela's brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm feeling something," Crowley replied vaguely.

"What, cramps?" Dean sassed.

"I feel something dark."

"What, darker than you?" Dean scoffed.

Crowley was about to retort when he noticed a man in a beekeeper suit tending bee hives over by the house.

"Oh no," he muttered. "We need to leave here now."

Angela rolled her eyes. "What, are you allergic to bees?"

"That's not a beekeeper," Crowley stressed. "That's the father of murder."

"Sorry," Dean frowned. "Who?"

"It's Cain."

Both Dean and Angela frowned deeply, glancing at each other in confusion.

"As in Cain and Abel?" Angela questioned.

"We need to be a world away from here—from him," Crowley stressed.

He turned to leave and almost ran right into Cain, who appeared behind him.

"You're not going anywhere," Cain replied firmly. "Crowley."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley sat inside Cain's house on a couch. Both Dean and Angela looked around, assessing their options while Crowley stared at the floor nervously.

"Why don't you just zap out of here?" Angela questioned.

"I'd never leave my domestic partners in crime," Crowley replied.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, like your heart grew three sizes. You can't zap out of here, can you?"

"Cain's doing something to me." Crowley sighed.

"Well, it's not your day for getaways, is it?" Dean muttered. "Alright, so, tell us about this Cain."

"Well, after Cain killed Abel, he became a demon," Crowley replied.

Angela's brows furrowed. "What do you mean, 'became a demon'?"

"I mean he became the deadliest demon to walk the face of the Earth," Crowley replied. "Killed thousands. The best at being the worst. And then he just… Disappeared. Everyone thought he was dead, or, at least, hoped he was."

Cain walked into the room with a tea tray. "Do any of you keep bees? It's very relaxing. They're such noble creatures. And the honey? Well, I keep it right on the comb."

Cain set the tray down on the coffee table and handed Crowley a cup. Crowley took it, but his hands were shaking in fright, rattling the teacup.

"There you are," Cain muttered as he handed Dean and Angela cups of tea. "They're dying, you know. Without bees, mankind will cease to exist. So, what are the King of Hell and two Winchesters doing at my house?"

"You know who we are?" Angela asked, slightly surprised.

"I'm retired. I'm not dead." Cain took a sip from his teacup. "What I don't know is why you're looking for me—more importantly, how you found me."

"Ah, that's, uh, a funny story, really." Crowley stammered. "Bit of a misunderstanding. We really should—

Cain motioned with his hand, rendering Crowley speechless. "Shh."

"Oh, you gotta teach us how to do that," Angela muttered.

Cain tilted his head slightly. "Why are you here, Angela?"

"We're looking for a weapon the archangels used to kill the Knights of Hell," she started. "The First Blade. We need it to kill a Knight of Hell—Abaddon."

"Look, we get it," Dean added. "We're not here to get between you and the demonic AARP, but it's bad out there, and we're just looking to even the odds."

Cain narrowed his eyes. "One last time—how did you find me?"

"We didn't," Angela replied. "The location spell was for the blade. One-time deal."

"Anyone else know you're here?" Cain questioned.

"No." she replied smoothly.

~/~\~

"Well," Cain stood up. "It's been a pleasure having company, but once a century is enough for me. You can let yourselves out."

Angela stood up and followed after Cain. "Hey, listen, we're not leaving here without the Blade."

Cain eyed her slightly. "You have quite a reputation, Angela. I see the part about you being brave rings true."

"Well, what can I say?" she shrugged. "I'm an all-in kind of gal. Abaddon is the last Knight of Hell, and if you're out of the game, what the hell do you care if she dies?"

"If your friend here could talk," Cain nodded to Crowley. "He would tell you that I trained the Knights of Hell. I built that entire demonic order with my own hands—Abaddon included."

Dean glared at Crowley. "Well, that is information we could have used five minutes ago!"

Crowley gasped in explanation, still unable to talk.

"Well, here's something your friend doesn't know," Cain continued. "That no one knows, in fact—outside of Abaddon. It wasn't the archangels that slaughtered the knights. It was me."

"Why did you turn on your own?" Angela questioned.

"Once again, I admire your bravery," Cain replied. "But if you'll excuse me, I have errands to run in town. Goodbye, Angela Winchester. Never return."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley walked out of the house.

"Well, that was lovely," Crowley commented sarcastically. "Can we leave the country now?"

"But you said the First Blade was our only shot at killing Abaddon," Angela argued. "This is the closest you've been to it. We're not leaving."

"Angie," Dean sighed heavily. "Maybe there's another way…"

"Angela, usually you're fairly reasonable…" Crowley started.

"Hey. He said he was going into town." Angela shrugged. "We wait till he's gone, come back, bust in, take what's ours. Got it?"

~/~\~

Sam and Castiel were walking down the bunker stairs. Castiel carried Grace, who was playing with the lapels of his trench coat.

"Sam, may I ask you a question?" Castiel asked.

"You just did," Sam replied with a chuckle.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Well, technically, you—yeah, go ahead," Sam replied. "What's up?"

They stopped in the doorway to the hall and faced each other.

"Sam, the trials," Castiel started, earning a scoff from Sam. "You chose not to go through with them for a reason, didn't you? You chose to live rather than to sacrifice yourself. You, Angela, and Dean… You chose each other."

"Yeah, I did. We did." Sam nodded. "And then they… Angela made a choice for me."

Sam stalked off to the medical room. Castiel sighed heavily, following him.

"What they did—

"Look, it doesn't matter." Sam interrupted. "I could have put a stop to all this, Cas. I could have closed the Gates of Hell."

"Oh, Sam." Castiel sighed.

"Dean and Angela aren't here." Sam shrugged. "And if I can find Gadreel… I can fix this."

Sam set a box down on a table next to a gurney. He shrugged off his plaid button-up, leaving him in just a thin t-shirt.

"Now… being human means settling your debts." Sam handed Castiel a box as he sat on the gurney. "Let's start balancing the books."

~/~\~

Angela, Dean, and Crowley entered Cain's house sneakily.

"This is by far the dumbest idea you've ever had." Crowley hissed.

"Yeah, well, it's early." Angela shrugged.

Crowley peeked in the front room and then backed away. "Oh, there's nothing here. Shame. Let's go."

"Hey!" she snapped. "Sack up and start looking, okay? We don't have much time."

Angela and Dean looked around the living room. Angela noticed a picture on the fireplace mantel, and she picked it up. It was an old picture of a woman with the name 'Colette' on the bottom.

"Hold, on," Dean muttered, leaning over her shoulder. "Cain was wearing the same ring."

A/N: I have been so excited to post this chapter! I really hope you guys enjoyed it, I really enjoyed writing it. And I can't wait for you guys to read the next chapter. Big things are about to happen ;) And as always, thank you for the recent reviews. Your feedback is so important. Love you guys, xoxo. :)

~Emily