"You promised me an explanation."

Sam jumped at the sound of my voice, jerking his head up from the book he was reading and staring at me with wide eyes. "W-what?" he said in a very unconvincingly confused voice.

I leaned against the doorframe and narrowed my eyes at him. "You know what I'm talking about."

He let out a short huff. "Yeah, I do."

"How the hell could I be Crowley's daughter?! I mean, my dad was a monster, sure," I shrugged, trying to seem unaffected, "but he wasn't a frigging demon."

Sam gave me a long look. "You wanna sit down?" he said after a minute, gesturing to the spot on the couch beside him. "I know your leg's gotta hurt, and this won't be easy to hear."

I raised my eyebrows but otherwise didn't move. "Try me."

He frowned, his forehead creasing as he thought of what to say, and the longer he took, the more nervous I became. Finally, without any warning, he said, "Your mother was a witch."

My eyes widened, and a disbelieving grin stretched over my face. "I knew it!" I exclaimed. "I knew she was like me! Wait, but—" My face fell as I thought about the implications of that. "Does—does that mean she was evil?"

Sam shook his head. "She tried to get out—she wanted to protect you. And Crowley killed her for it."

"Crowley?! But—but why?! Why would he—?!" The look on Sam's face told me what I already knew but didn't want to acknowledge. "He was the demon she sold her soul to, wasn't he?" I asked quietly, and Sam nodded slowly. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath, clenching my fists as I tried to keep calm. Control it. Don't let your anger go yet. Save it for Crowley. Save it for your mother's sake. I opened my eyes and looked back at Sam. "That still doesn't explain why he calls me his daughter."

"Gari…"

"No, Sam, you promised."

"You don't know what you're asking."

I walked over to stand right in front of him, trying my hardest not to limp, and I crossed my arms over my chest as I stared down into his eyes. It's weird looking down at him, I noted distractedly. He's so freaking tall; I usually have to crane my neck to make eye contact. "I can handle it," I said stubbornly. "I deserve to know."

He broke eye contact then, staring at the ground, and I knew I'd convinced him. "How far did you get in the books?" he asked, and I frowned in confusion. Okay, maybe I didn't convince him.

"I don't see what that has to do with—"

"Are you at season two yet?"

"No…" I said, still utterly confused. "Halfway through season one."

"Great," he huffed, seemingly to himself.

"Sam, just tell me," I urged. "Stop stalling and tell me."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and he slowly lifted his head, gazing up at me. "Let me tell you something about me first, something that I don't really like people to know."

I had to admit, I was a little intrigued. Even though I could tell he was still kind of stalling, I was curious about Sam Winchester's deep, dark secrets. "Did I know before?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, you did. I told you not too long after we'd met. We ran into each other on a few hunts, and you'd finally gotten to the point where you didn't hate me so much. I think you might've started to even like me a little," he teased, and I fought back a grin, not wanting to encourage this familiarity. I wanted the truth, and that was it. Anything else was just wasting my time and making it harder to pull away from him. When he saw that I wasn't amused, he continued somberly, "Dean locked you in Bobby's panic room because he thought you were drinking demon blood after seeing you attempt to exorcise a demon with your mind."

I blinked rapidly. "And, uh, why would that be the conclusion he jumped to?"

"Because I used to be able to exorcise demons with my mind."

It took a minute for what he'd said to sink in, and, when it did, my eyes grew wide with shock, and, if I was being honest, a little bit of disgust. "Why the fuck—?!"

"It's a long story," Sam interrupted quickly, "and I'll tell you again someday, but it's not important now." He looked to me for my agreement, and I nodded slowly—knowing the truth about myself was more important. "Anyway… When I was six months old, a demon named Azazel fed some of his blood to me." As he said the demon's name, his eyes flicked up to mine, as though watching for a reaction. I, however, had never heard the name before, so I just stared back at him until he started talking again. "When I turned twenty-two, I started having death visions. Later on, I found out drinking demon blood enhanced my powers even more, making me stronger and letting me exorcise demons without killing their vessels."

I subtly shifted the weight off of my injured leg as I raised my eyebrows at him. "I still don't get what this has to do with me being Crowley's daughter."

"Crowley calls you his daughter because…" Sam trailed off and looked up at me pleadingly, as if begging me not to make him continue, as if hoping I could figure it out on my own.

And, suddenly, I knew. "No…" I breathed, and Sam frowned sympathetically. I refused to believe it—it couldn't be true. "Say it," I ordered, my eyes and voice hardening as my stubborn nature took over. "I need to hear you say it, Sam."

His deep hazel eyes went into full puppy mode. "Gari, please don't—"

"No, I need to hear it."

He reached for my hand then, and I was too stunned to pull away. "He calls you his daughter because…because he gave you his blood," he said quietly. "Because he's part of the reason you have your powers."

My legs started to give out, and I sank down onto the couch beside him, shaking my head in disbelief as tears welled up in my eyes. "It can't be true," I whispered, squeezing my eyes closed against the tears. "I-I can't be that fucked up…" I opened my eyes and looked at Sam, feeling lost and pathetic, like a helpless child. "…Can I?"

I saw the pain he felt for me in his eyes, and my heart skipped a beat as he pushed my hair behind my ear and cupped my face in his hand. The motion seemed almost subconscious, as did the way I leaned into him. "I'm sorry, Gari," he murmured. His thumb swiped under my eye, catching a tear I hadn't felt fall before it rolled down my cheek. So much for not crying.

"Thank you," I said thickly, blinking back more tears. "Thank you for telling me." I was almost unaware of turning my face so that my lips pressed against his palm, and when I noticed what I was doing, I realized that it felt right. Warning bells went off in my head, but I couldn't bring myself to care right then. Having him there to comfort me felt too good, and I wanted to bask in his concern for a little while longer.

He had stiffened at my touch, and a tentative, gentle smile spread across his face as my eyes met his. "Anything for you," he said, and he blushed as soon as the words left his mouth.

We were close now, closer than we'd been since the night I'd come back from the dead, and I could almost feel him pulling me in, like he had his own center of gravity that I couldn't escape. I leaned toward him, not knowing if I wanted his lips on mine or his arms wrapped around me, but just knowing that I wanted him, and that was enough right then.

I did my best to silence my thoughts, knowing that I would pull away if I let myself think about what I was doing. I slid one hand up his chest and to the back of his neck, threading my fingers into his hair and using my grip to pull him down towards me. His eyes widened, and he stuttered out, "G-Gari, are you—"

"Shhh," I interrupted breathlessly. "Don't ruin it."

He looked like he was going to protest, but I silenced him by pressing my lips to his. It took him a while to respond, and I knew that he was preparing himself for another of my mood swings. Honestly, I was surprised and impressed with myself for not having freaked out yet. As long as I focused on Sam—and, yes, then his lips parted beneath mine, and the hand that wasn't still cupping my cheek pressed into the small of my back, pulling me closer—everything was going to be alright. This was fine; this was more than fine; it was right; it was good; it was—

It was too much.

I jerked away from Sam, pushing hard against his chest to put as much space between us as possible, and I sprang to my feet, despite the pain that shot through my leg. I shook my head rapidly, unable to look at him, too ashamed to see those ever-understanding eyes filled with sympathy. "I-I can't. I just—I can't," I stuttered out as I backed further away from him. "I-I can't do this. I—"

"I'm sorry," he broke in softly, almost masking the hurt and alarm in his voice. "I didn't mean to scare you; I—"

"N-no, it's me; it was me; it was my fault," I insisted, and I knew that it really was. I noticed that he was still sitting, and I knew that he was trying not to startle me further—that just made me panic even more. "I just—I-I need some air." My eyes finally darted to his. "Don't come after me this time." I spun and dashed out of the room and out of the house, pushing through the halfway healed gunshot wound that screamed at me to stop and ignoring Sam's desperate voice calling after me.

Dean was washing John's Impala, and he glanced up, startled, as my powers slammed the front door behind me. I could see on his face that he was worried, and I quickly took off in the opposite direction before he got the chance to speak.

I headed into the backyard, sparing a glance at Riot, who barked excitedly and tried to jump the fence to run to me, even though I was still a stranger and had only pet the dog once. I didn't want him to pick up on my mood; I didn't want my anger and confusion to affect his happiness. Okay, so a dog's feelings matter, but not Sam's? a small, spiteful voice said in the back of my head. Glad we've got our priorities straight.

I scrunched up my face and let out a groan, and I ran my hands through my hair and dropped to my knees in front of an old oak tree on the edge of Ella's yard. I stared up at the sky, frowning as I saw dark clouds swirling above me. Oh, c'mon. Not this again. Control it. Fight it.

But it was too late. My emotions were too uncontrollable. As I squeezed my eyes closed and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold my powers back, I felt pain ripping through me; a loud crack sounded and I was thrown backward across the yard, knocking into the chain-link fence and causing Riot to let out a loud yelp.

"Gari!" a gruff voice yelled, and I sat up slowly, moaning as I blinked spots out of my eyes. Dean dropped down beside me and put his hands around my face, causing me to look at him, and his eyes frantically scanned my face for signs of damage. "Are you okay?! Can you hear me?! How many fingers am I holdin' up?!"

"N-none, you d-dork," I coughed out. "T-they're on my f-face. W-why are you t-touching me?"

He rolled his eyes and drew back his hands. "Okay, yeah, you're fine. What the hell happened?!"

"I-I lost c-control," I admitted ashamedly, casting my eyes downward. "S-Sam… Um… I-I freaked out. Couldn't s-stop it."

He didn't ask me to elaborate, and I mentally thanked him for that. Instead, he looked past me and let out a low whistle. "Man, Ella's gonna kill you for hurtin' her tree."

I followed his gaze confusedly, and I let out a small gasp at the giant oak that was now split right down the middle, barely held together at the base of the trunk, and even the highest branches touched the ground. "Aw, f-fuck." I coughed again, trying to clear my throat. "I didn't m-mean to do that."

"Yeah, well, you can break the news to her. That tree's the reason she wanted to build the house here."

"Aw, fuck!" I repeated; then I let out a sigh. Dean stood up and held out a hand. I took it and gratefully let him hoist me to my feet and steady me when I was standing. "T-thanks," I said a little breathlessly. He made to let go of me, but I tightened my grip on his hand as the world started spinning and I felt the ground swaying below me.

"Whoa, whoa, Gari, hey," he said worriedly, pulling his hand away so he could wrap his arm around my waist. "I got ya. Just lean on me. Don't pass out, okay?"

"Tryin' my b-best," I mumbled as my head lolled against his shoulder.

"Maybe I should've let you sit down longer."

I wanted to give a sarcastic reply, but my mouth wasn't working right, and my tongue felt all funny. "Mhm," I agreed instead.

"Okay, I'm gonna take you inside," he said as he started us toward the house, half-carrying and half-dragging me. "Gonna let Sam take a look at you. He's got a better chance of findin' out how to fix you than I do."

"N-no. No," I protested weakly. "N-not S-Sam."

"Gari, now's not the time. You're pretty messed up. Sam can help."

"I-I'll be f-fine. J-just… I just needa l-lie down for a m-minute." I stumbled and found myself looking down at a very comfortable-looking patch of grass. "T-this looks g-good," I said, and I pulled away from Dean and promptly fell to the ground. He panicked and tried to catch me, but I didn't care. The grass was as comfortable as it looked, and I gave a happy sigh and stretched out on my back.

"Okay, yeah, I'm getting Sam," Dean said definitively, and he turned away from me. I grabbed his pants leg to hold him back, and he almost face-planted onto the ground beside me. "What the hell, Gari?!"

"D-don't get him," I begged. "I'm a-okay. Five-b-by-five."

Dean huffed in annoyance, but he couldn't suppress the smirk growing on his face. "Well, you're makin' Buffy references, so ya can't be that bad."

I nodded slowly, a lazy smile stretching across my lips. "T-told ya."

He sat down beside me, and the grin faded from his face. Concern crept back into his eyes. "Are you really okay? 'Cause you're kinda scarin' me, Vulcan. More than usual."

I closed my eyes and turned my face up towards the sky, not wanting to see the emotion on his face any longer. I got enough of that from Sam. "Ya r-really worry 'bout me t-that much?" I asked, avoiding his question. "Even you?"

He was silent for a minute, and I wondered if he was thinking of a way to avoid my question, too. "Gari, look," he said finally, his voice quiet and uncomfortable, something I'd never heard from him. "I don't do chick flick moments; it's one of my rules. But you need to hear it, so I'm just gonna stow my pride for once." My curiosity was piqued, and I cracked open my eyes and turned my head to stare at him. He was looking down at his hands, and his shoulders were hunched up, just like Sam's did when he was nervous. I wonder if Sam gets that from him. "You and Sammy and Ella—you're the only family I got. You're, uh…you're like a sister to me. We've gone through hell for each other, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. So, uh, yeah. Yeah, I really worry about you that much."

I'd thought that Dean could calm me down, but he did just the opposite. There's one more person who loves me. One more person I don't remember. One more person I'm disappointing. Panic started building in my chest again, and it moved through my stomach and up my throat. Okay, nope, not panic, I realized, nausea. "I-I'm gonna t-throw up," I warned Dean, and I promptly rolled over and did just that, emptying the contents of my stomach onto my comfortable patch of grass.

Dean didn't recoil; instead, he pulled my hair back from my face with one hand and placed his other hand on my upper back in an attempt to comfort me as I continued to heave. "That's it," he said, a slightly exasperated tone in his voice, "just let it out. Atta girl."

After a few minutes, I sat back on my knees and wiped my mouth, and he let go of my hair but kept his hand on my back. "Ugh," I rasped, though I was thankfully feeling better, "I'm sorry."

He ran his hand up and squeezed my shoulder. "It's not the first time I've had to do that," he said, and I glanced over at him to see that he was frowning.

"Didn't think you'd frown on getting wasted," I teased, and I was relieved that my voice was steady again.

He forced a smile. "Heh. Yeah."

I noticed just how serious he was then. "Dean, what is it?"

He shook his head. "Nothin'. Don't worry about it. So you wanna tell me what made you freak out and electrocute a tree?"

"Not really."

"It was Sam, wasn't it?"

"Maybe just a little."

"What happened?"

I swallowed roughly and stared at my hands, unable to look at Dean and see the confirmation of what I was about to say on his face. "He told me Crowley killed my mom and gave me his blood, that he's the reason I have my powers." Dean didn't say anything, and I finally looked at him. His face was nearly unreadable, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's true, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, "it's true."

"I was kinda hoping you'd lie."

"Sorry to disappoint. Is that it?"

"Yep," I said quickly, nodding my head. There was no way I was going to tell him about kissing Sam. "It's just kinda hard to hear, y'know?"

By the look he gave me, I knew that he could tell that I was lying, but he thankfully didn't question me. "You feelin' better?" he asked instead.

"Yeah, thanks."

"You smell liked burnt hair."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up."

He grinned and stood up. "You think you're okay now?"

I took the hand he offered me. "Only one way to find out." He pulled me up, taking most of my weight just to be safe. He hesitantly let go of me, watching me warily. I was still a little dizzy and my throat still felt raw, but, other than that, I felt fine. I gave him a small nod. "I'm good," I assured him. "Really."

His grin grew and he threw an arm around my shoulders. He was trying to be casual, but I could tell he was really just taking precautions in case I started to fall again. Although the concern still freaked me out, I was touched by his subtle support. "Let's get you back inside and maybe get a few beers," he suggested, "and then you can help me finish washin' my baby."

"Are you really that obsessive over her? She's not even dirty."

"Yeah, I know; I just…" He trailed off and dropped his head, looking both sad and embarrassed.

"What is it?"

"It's how I let Ella know," he said reluctantly.

"Huh?"

He finally met my eye. "It's how I let her know we're about to leave. A few days before we head out, I wash the car to break it to her slow. So she knows what's up before I have to tell her. So she's got time to prepare. I don't like just springin' it on her."

I was struck silent by his thoughtfulness. Dean Winchester was just full of surprises. He really loves her. I can't believe I ever thought he was like John. The thought startled me, and I wondered when I had reached that conclusion. After a minute, I realized that I'd acknowledged their differences a long time ago; I just hadn't wanted to admit it to myself. I hadn't wanted another reason to get even more attached to these boys. It had already happened too fast with Sam, and it was happening with Dean now, too. I wished more than anything that things were different, that I could go back in time and change the chain of events that led to us meeting the Winchesters. I wanted it to be Ella and me against the world, like it was supposed to be. I didn't want to feel such affection and compassion for them; why couldn't I care for them like I would for a random stranger whose life I'd saved? Just a passing concern, a thanks for keeping Ella safe, and a heartfelt goodbye?

"Gari?" Dean said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said a little distractedly, and I casually stepped out from under his arm. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He cocked an eyebrow at me, but he didn't push it. "So, uh, you wanna come with us? On the hunt?"

I frowned. "You and Sam?" He nodded a little sarcastically, as if to say Who else? "I think I'm gonna stay with Elle. I haven't been here enough. I left two days after I got back, and I need to be with her."

"Yeah, okay, I get it. We're gettin' to be a little too much for you, aren't we?" I pressed my lips together and lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. How the hell did he know? He patted me on the back. "That's okay. Take your time. Take all the time you need. And we'll be here when you're ready to kick some monster ass." He grinned again, but there was sadness in his eyes. I wondered what he must be going through, too, after "kicking some monster ass" for a whole year, but I didn't feel close enough to him to ask, and I doubted he would've told me the truth, anyway. "So how about that beer?"

My grin mirrored his, along with the sadness in my eyes. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I supposed it was about time I ended up in the nursery.

I'd meant to visit earlier, to spend time with Ella's children—my niece and nephews, I realized with a jolt—but I'd left with the Winchesters soon after I'd come back from the dead, and I'd only seen the kids in passing. Now, however, there was no avoiding them, no matter how much the thought of being around them made me nervous. Ella had always been the one that was good with kids, and I had always been the one that inevitably did something to make them cry.

I stood by the door and watched Sami and Johnny play with building blocks. Ella had Lee in the living room with her, so the toddlers were allowed to be as loud as they wanted to be. Thankfully, they were too wrapped up in their toys to have noticed me yet.

"Dat's mine!" Sami whined as Johnny took one of her blocks, and she reached her short little arms as far as she could, but Johnny pushed her away.

"Nuh-uh! It's mine!" he protested.

"You dot lots of blocks!" Sami argued, still reaching for her block. "Dat one's mine!" When Johnny still refused to give it back, she balled her hand into a tiny fist and started hitting him.

"Stop! Stop! No!" Johnny wailed, and I took that as my cue to rush forward.

I knelt down beside the toddlers, and I grabbed Sami's arm before she could hit Johnny again. "Hey, hey, whoa, kiddo! No need for violence! It's just a toy!"

"But it's mine!" the little girl said stubbornly, glaring up at me with defiant green eyes that looked like Dean's. "He's dot more!"

"So?" Johnny said, wiping his tears and holding the block against his chest. "I want this one!"

I looked at the toys in front of the twins. Sami was right; Johnny had the majority of the blocks and was on his way to making a tiny city, whereas Sami could barely make one house. "Johnny, why don't you give just that one to Sami?" I said, keeping my voice bright and friendly. "You've gotta lot of blocks, and she needs to be able to finish her house."

"Yeah!" Sami agreed.

Johnny frowned and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "But—but—but—"

"Sami will ask nicely," I said to him, "won't you Sami?" Sami wouldn't meet my eye. "C'mon, Sami, ask Johnny nicely for the block and maybe he'll give it to you. Don't forget to say 'please.'"

Sami huffed and looked at her brother. "Can I have da block?" she asked, and she fixed her face into a puppy dog expression worthy of her namesake. "Pwease?"

Johnny looked up at me with big blue eyes, and I nodded at him. He sighed and held the block out to his sister. "'Kay. Here."

Sami grinned and added the block to her building, officially completing her house. "Sami, what do we say?" I prompted.

She didn't even look at Johnny, too enraptured with her house, as she said, "Dank you, Johnny!" Johnny just grumbled to himself and went back to building his city.

"You're still good with 'em," a voice said from behind me, and I turned my head to see Ella standing in my previous spot and holding Lee as he slept. "Even if ya don't wanna admit it."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I decided to explain myself. "Johnny stole one of Sami's blocks, so she started hitting him. I had to do something."

Ella sighed and rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "She's so violent. I don't get it. She's hardly even been around ya that much."

"Gee, thanks."

Ella's mouth quirked up at the corner. "What're ya doin' in here, anyway?"

I stood up as I said, "I figured I should probably reacquaint myself with my niece and nephews, especially if I'm gonna be hanging around you all the time. Looks like you're a package deal."

"That kinda tends to happen when ya got three kids."

"I wasn't saying it was a bad thing!" I said hurriedly, scared I'd offended her. "I was just saying it was something I'd failed to do before I left with the boys, and it's something I needed to do. These kids need to get to know their super cool aunt, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Ella said with a grin and a roll of her eyes. "Ya wanna hold your legacy, then? Get to know him?"

"You mean the fragile, sleepy little creature in your arms?" I said nervously.

"Did ya just call my baby a creature?!"

"I didn't mean it in a bad way!"

"Ugh, fine. So d'ya wanna hold him or not?"

"You'd trust me to hold your tiny child?"

She laughed. "Surprisingly, yes. But why don'tcha sit down first? You'll be more comfortable, and ya won't make me so damn nervous."

"Uh, alright." I made my way over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room and slid as far back into the seat as I could go. "Okay, let's do this."

"Don't be scared! It's contagious!" Ella reprimanded me. "Now hold out your arms, and remember to support his head, and be gentle, and maybe hold him close to ya 'cause that's more comfortable for both of y'all and your arms won't get tired so fast, and try not to move too much just in case 'cause I know ya don't wanna deal with a cryin' baby."

"You're making it worse!" I hissed as she slowly and carefully placed Lee in my arms. "Now I'm really freaking out."

"It's okay; just be…calm," she finished as she withdrew her arms and sat down on the floor in front of me. I held Lee close to my chest, just like Ella had said, and I used my free hand to move the blanket away from his face. His hand twitched up and wrapped around my index finger, and I let out a small gasp, afraid I'd woken him up. "You're fine," Ella assured me, "he just likes holdin' onto somethin' when he sleeps. He had my amulet earlier." She held up a silver disk with a blue stone in the center, and I realized that it was identical to the one around my neck that had glowed when I said the Latin word inscribed on it.

"So what's the deal with those?" I asked her, my voice way quieter than usual out of fear of waking up the baby.

Ella didn't seem to have the same concerns, however, for she continued in her usual loud twang. "Bobby gave 'em to ya a few years ago, and ya gave one to me. Ya hold it over a map and say 'quarere' and then it lights up and finds the other amulet's location."

"So it's just a way simpler locator spell? One that always works and doesn't require multiple ingredients?"

"Pretty much."

"But why'd I give you that? We're never apart."

Ella frowned and looked at her son rather than me. "We were…for 'bout a year. After Sam went to Hell."

"What?! Why?!" I yelped, temporarily forgetting to be quiet, and Lee stirred in my arms. I grimaced and glanced down at him, making sure he was still sleeping.

"Well, uh, I got pregnant with the twins, and ya decided ya needed to be alone for awhile after losin' Sam," she said awkwardly.

"I left you?! After losing a guy?!" I said disbelievingly, although I remembered to keep my voice down this time. "You're shitting me! I'd never do that!"

"Well, uh…" she shrugged. "Ya did. I don't think ya meant to be gone for a year, but some stuff happened, and we finally came and got ya once Sam came back."

"What kinda stuff?" I asked, sensing the hesitation in her voice. "Everyone keeps talking about things that I did without actually telling me what I did! The day I came back, when I said the last thing I remembered was the kelpie, you freaked out because it was 'before' something happened, and I had to eavesdrop on your conversation with the Winchesters to figure out you were talking about Lenore! And Dean called me a monster for some reason—like, I know I'm a freak, but I've only ever done one thing that could've possibly warranted getting called a monster, and that was when I was nine! And Sam's been evading my questions for ages, and, even when he told me about my connection to Crowley, I could tell he was still keeping stuff from me! I just wanna know what the hell's going on: what we did—what I did—in those ten years that apparently fucked me up!"

"Gari, I…" She looked down at the floor as she trailed off. I waited impatiently for her to finish, and, just when I was about to give up, she said, "I just don't think you're ready to know everythin'."

"Well, since they're my memories, it's kinda my decision, isn't it?" I argued.

"Ya got addicted to demon blood, okay?!" she rushed out heatedly. "Ya left me and Dean and ya went off on your own and ya got hooked on demon blood for a year and didn't snap outta it until ya killed a goddamn kid!" As soon as the words left her lips, she let out a gasp and clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror and regret. I was struck dumb with shock, unable to do anything but gape at her in fury and disbelief. The twins had stopped playing to stare at us worriedly. "I'm so sorry," Ella whispered as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry; I shouldn'ta said that; I shoulda waited until we were alone and I wasn't angry and we coulda talked about it and ohmygodI'msosorry!"

I just wanted to walk away—I didn't want to yell at her; I didn't want to make things worse, not in front of her kids—but I forgot about the baby in my arms until I got to my feet. I looked down between Lee and Ella, debating on what to do. Lee was sleeping soundly, and Ella was crying. At that moment, I decided I'd rather take care of the infant than say one more word to my sister, so I turned on my heel and walked out of the nursery.

"Gari, wait!" Ella called after me, but I ignored her as I headed into Sam's room and locked the door behind me.

I sat down on the bed and curled my legs up under me, being careful not to jostle Lee too badly. I'm not gonna cry. I'm not weak. I'm not weak like Ella. This isn't gonna make me cry. My entire world crashing down is not gonna make me cry. My body, however, disagreed, and I couldn't keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. Well, I guess I know why Dean called me a monster. I killed someone? An innocent someone? A kid?! How many others did I kill?! What else did I do?! Why the fuck would I do that?! Why would I ever get addicted to something like that?! Just because of a guy?! Just because of Sam?! What the fuck was wrong with me?!

"It doesn't fucking make sense!" I yelped, and I hurriedly pressed my lips together as I remembered I had Lee. I hadn't meant to say that out loud, but that didn't change anything. I'd heard that babies could easily pick up on the emotions of the people around them, even if they didn't understand the cause of those emotions yet, and it appeared to be true: Lee squirmed in my arms; then his face screwed up and he started bawling. Oh, fuck. I'm so fucking stupid!

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," I tried, gently bouncing my arms up and down. "Shhh, hey, it's okay, it's okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you up. Please go back to sleep, please." I repeated the words over and over, and, just when I thought that he would never stop crying, he hiccupped once and opened his eyes to stare up at me. "There we go," I said, a small smile crossing my face as I saw the Harken blue eyes blinking confusedly at the face that wasn't his mother's or father's. "Hey, there, little guy. Sorry I made you cry. I didn't mean for my problems to upset you. I guess I'm not as good at controlling my emotions as I should be." He made a weird, gurgling baby noise as he continued to stare at me, and I grinned wider. "Yeah, you're right; I guess we were never properly introduced, were we? Well, I'm your super cool aunt Gari. Garideth Leigh Vulcan. You're named after me—aren't you lucky?" Lee giggled and drool ran down his chin, and, instead of being grossed out like I thought I'd be, I ignored the drool and laughed back at him. "Yeah, that's right; I'm not that scary, am I? And you really don't give a rat's ass what I've done, do you? Oh, shit! I mean, ugh, sorry. I've really gotta work on my baby language. No more cussing, right? Don't wanna influence you to grow up to be mean."

Lee squirmed slightly in my arms, and I wondered how to make him more comfortable. Finally, I decided to just lay him down on the bed beside me. I placed a pillow on his other side so he wouldn't be able to roll away, and I curled up next to him with my head right above his. "I hope you don't mind that I took you away from your mom for a little bit," I said to him. "I just needed to get away. I've gotta think through some things, and I can't do it with her around." He made another strange noise, but this one sounded vaguely happy, and I took that as him saying he was okay with being with me for a little while.

"I just don't understand it," I said, realizing that voicing my thoughts aloud felt better than keeping it all inside. "I don't understand how I let myself get attached to anyone else—at least two people, too! And, I mean, Ella said something about your other namesake being like a second dad to me—or technically third, if you're counting my biological dad—or fourth, if you're counting Crowley… Ugh." I pressed my face into my pillow. "One thing at a time—I'll think about that later. And there's also Kevin, who was at least attached to me, and not necessarily the other way around—and, honestly, I can see how I got attached to him since he's just a kid and I still wanna protect him after barely even knowing him. I may not feel all huggy and emotional, but I do feel protective. I just don't want any more kids to end up like me…but it looks like it's too late for him."

I sighed. "I'm getting off-track. I've been avoiding thinking about him, about your uncle, and it's kinda obvious, isn't it?" Lee gurgled at me again, and I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know. I'm not very subtle. But, like, okay. From an objective perspective, I can see how I started liking the Winchesters—I can even see how I could be friends with them and how we could occasionally work together. I get that; it's plausible. They're surprisingly nice guys, and they know how to do their job, and they're absolutely nothing like their father, even though they're very much hunters. But…but falling for one of them? Really?! That's f—I mean, that's insane!" I made a face as I almost cussed again. It wasn't like Lee could understand me—he was just a little baby—but it still made me feel weird, and I knew Ella wouldn't like it. "I mean, Ella and I had a deal, okay? No attachments—just salt, sex, and single-malt whiskey! Hell, she's the one that came up with the alliteration part!"

I frowned. "Is 'hell' a cuss word? Ah, hell, I dunno. Anyway, I guess, if I'm being totally honest with myself, I could've predicted Ella falling off the wagon, but I figured she would've gone for some normal guy who was understanding about the life but didn't want anything to do with it. I could even have called her quitting and having kids. But me?! I love the job! I love the research and the fighting and the one-night-stands and the sense of accomplishment and heroism, even if I never get thanked for what I do! It's a thankless job, and somebody's got to do it, and that somebody has always been me, and I've always been happy with that! Ella and Greg were the only people I wanted to share it with, and I honestly would've been fine on my own once Ella settled down! But, apparently, I wasn't fine without Sam fucking Winchester?! I mean, how long did I even know the guy before he died?! Like a year?! Less?! Certainly not long enough to fall in fucking love with him, and certainly not to the point where I'd have ditched Ella and gotten addicted to fucking demon blood when he died!" I was on a roll then, and I couldn't have stopped myself from cussing like a sailor even if I'd wanted to. Thankfully, Lee was just watching me and showing no sign of being upset, so I wasn't too worried about him—I had other things to worry about at that point, anyway.

"And don't even get me started on the demon blood thing! That's fucking ridiculous! Who the fuck gets addicted to demon blood, of all things?! It's not like something you can buy off some creepy guy on a street corner! You have to fucking confront demons for that shit! And make the conscious decision to drink their fucking blood rather than just fucking kill them! Who the fuck does that?!" I sneered in disgust. "Apparently, me and Sam fucking Winchester do that, that's who! I feel like a freak, like a monster, just like Dean said, and I don't even remember being addicted! I don't remember hunting down demons; I don't remember draining their vessels; I don't remember killing a fucking kid! And I'm guessing Dean locked me in whatever fucking panic room Sam was telling me about to detox me or what the fuck ever, and I don't remember that, either, and—" I broke off suddenly, one hand brushing against one of the scars on my face and the other tracing the lattice-like pattern on my stomach. "Was that where I got all of these?" I continued quietly, lifting up the edge of my shirt to stare at the destroyed skin. "Sam said I was without my powers for a while; is that what happened in the panic room? Did I lose my powers? All of them? Is that another thing I can't remember?"

"I just wanna know what's going on," I continued, all of my anger and panic fading into a sort of numb resignation. Lee picked up on my newly calm mood, and his eyelids fluttered sleepily. I curled tighter around him and brushed my lips against the dark blonde peach fuzz on the top of his head. "I just wanna know about those ten years, especially the most recent ones. I just wanna know how I died and how I came back. I just wanna know who did this to me." I squeezed my eyes closed and swallowed hard as tears clogged my throat and pricked at my eyes again. "I just wanna go back to how things were," I choked out, feeling just as lost and helpless and confused as I had since the moment I came back to life.

The utter exhaustion of the day paired with Lee's soft, sighing snores finally swept over me, and I fell asleep with my body wrapped protectively around my fragile little nephew whose existence I still couldn't bring myself to believe in.