Lucille watched from the park bench as her grandson ran with the mob of children in a game of freeze tag. It was against the rules, but little Robby had begged and pleaded to get out of the safe house, he only wanted to be a kid and have fun. So, Lucille caved in, she would let him be normal. Even for just a short while. She thought of her twins and pondered on whether or not she would see them again. Beth was a danger to her son, it broke her heart to send her away after she'd killed Hank, but the red eyes began to pop up much too often. Going on hunts would settle them down, keep her distracted from her duties in Hell, but not even that seemed to work anymore.
Kristina had promised to keep the sister at bay for as long as she could, but how long would she be able to do that? Inevitably, they all knew that Beth would have to be killed, her darkness was becoming stronger by the day. Lucille missed her best friend, Bobby, he would know what to do. He was the best, she was sure of that. Only they hadn't seen each other in a quarter century, she wasn't even sure if he was still alive. Her heart hoped that he was still out there, somewhere, ganking the bad guys – her hope for that was the only thing holding her sanity together.
Honestly, she'd hoped for him to return to them every single day since he had left. She couldn't blame him for leaving. In her heart of hearts she knew that he was in too deep in the hunters life to stick around, it would put their daughters in danger. She had two delicate newborns, and he had a job to finish. They had discussed it, and agreed that his departure was for the best. Still, all the years later, she wished he didn't have to go. Her heart ached in regret, if she had known that the twins were going to grow up and follow right in his footsteps, she wouldn't had let him leave.
"What is it that's got ye down, my dea'?"
Lucille startled and turned her head. A woman around her age with beautiful red curls and a Scottish accent had joined her on the park bench. Lucille tried to smile, "Oh, it's nothing." she said. She returned her gaze back to her grandson, whom was now effortlessly making his way across the monkey bars. She smiled again, genuinely.
"C'mon, you'll give yeeself frown lines if you hold ye face like that any long'ah." Said the red haired woman. Lucille let out a soft laugh. "You can talk to me." Red pressed. Lucille thought it over, then she said. "I've been cooped up in the house with my grandson for too long. I think we both just needed some fresh air." The woman gave a friendly laugh. "I've a grandson meself, but his Mum and Pa won't let me anywhere near the boy. It must be a delight, having a grandchild." The woman sighed sadly. Lucille looked at the woman with pity. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't imagine my life without my little Robert."
"Thank you. It breaks me heart, and I've only just found out about him. My son has kept me in the dark for all these years." The woman's eyes began to water up, a couple stray tears escaped and rolled down her rosy blushed cheeks, her dramatic eye makeup started to run. Lucille reached out and patted the woman on the hand. "It's okay – um…"
"Rowena." She sniffled.
"Rowena. Rowena, honey, I am sure that they will come around. I mean, every kid needs their grandma. It's family logic." She tried to reassure her. "That's what I've tried to tell them, they refuse." Rowena cried a little harder, and Lucille pulled the woman in to hug her. Sudden laughter erupted out of Rowena, it was a manacle sound, fueled with insanity. Lucille's hunter instinct retired from the grave, and her hands clutched into fists around the soft fabric of Rowena's dress. She looked down, and her breath stopped when she seen an ancient symbol drew in blood on the back of Rowena's neck. It began to glow.
She tried to fight, she tried to scream out, but it was too late. Her vision began to escape from her, she could see the faces of Bobby and their daughters. They would come and save her from the witch. She knew they would. The child's life depended on it.
They had to.
Lucille lost consciousness as an explosion of red domed over the residents that occupied the park. Rowena straightened up and shook her now blonde hair back from her face. "Such a shame, you were such a nice lady." Rowena chimed with laughter. She gently laid her original body over the length of the bench, and with a few words of Latin, Lucille – now incased in Rowenas body – began to glow brightly and slowly disappeared. Rowena picked up Lucille's lovely red purse from the bench and turned around. The red glow of her disillusion spell was fading away, the people of the park were clueless. She began to walk towards the chestnut haired boy on the swingset.
Her heart swelled, he looked just as Fergus did as a child. "Robby, it's time to go now, darling!" Little Robert's head swung around at the sound of her voice and his face lit up with a tiny toothy grin. He took a flying jump from the swing and ran to her, wrapping his arms around her and looking up. "Thank you for bringing me out today, Gramma, I had fun." And then he asked, "Why do we have to stay in that bunker all the time? Can we come back tomorrow, Gramma, please?" and Rowena internally filled with fury for a moment.
She suddenly clutched her head as a string of memories from Lucille hit her like a migraine. They had the boy locked away since birth in a warded underground bunker. Never seeing much of the light of day. Beth was rollercoastering in her transformation into becoming Queen of Hell. Kristina frequently reading up on Witchcraft, and sneaking out in the night as Lucille stayed up with the crying baby all the time, worrying about her hunting children that followed in her and Bobby Singers footsteps. Beth having to be restrained in a devils trap, chains bound her up as fire burned her tongue and ignited behind her eyes.
Robby paniced, "Gramma, are you alright?" his face crumpled into worry.
Rowena removed her hand from her head and smiled down at her grandson, "It's nothing, dear boy, I think this heat has given me a wee of a head spin." She shook her head, trying to regain clarity, "How's about we go for some ice – cream, yeah?" she proposed. Robby squealed in delight, "We need a whole bunch, cause you're starting to talk funny, like a leprechaun!" he laughed, then grabbed her by the hand and led the way back to the car.
When Sam opened his eyes he was lying in Uncle Bobby's salvage yard, he seen stars. He curled his nose up in resentment. Dean and he had the biggest fight yet; when he asked his older brother about what really happened to their mom, again. Sam was young, but he wasn't stupid, and Dean always had a guilty look on his face when he was lying about something big – Mom wasn't just 'gone.', and Dean knew what really happened. He refused to tell, so instead, he'd shoved little Sam to the ground as hard as he could and ran away.
"Ow…" he muttered.
"Balls!"
He was abruptly swept out of the dirt by a mysterious dark haired woman. "Ay, Bobby!" she yelled loud enough for him to hear from inside. "Hold still Sam, you're bleeding." The lady caused Sam to jump and try to get away. Dean had made it a very strict rule for him to never to talk to strangers, ever, especially at night. He grabbed his aching head. Where was Dean? Sam became agitated. "Who are you? Where's Dean?"
The brown haired girl with sparkling eyes and blood all over her blouse swept him up out of the dirt and began to carry him back to the house, trying to sooth him. "I'm Kris, Bobby's daughter, and Dean is being punished for hurting you." Sam continued to clutch his dazed and confused head. Dean must've gotten stronger, because that kind of blow was the more powerful than his usual girly shoves. Sam knew he made him really mad this time with the mom topic, but she was his mom too, not just Dean and Dad's.
Bobby flung the front door open, and his eyes landed on the boy. A young boy that Bobby knew very well. "What the hell?" "Dad, something happened, and Sam got hurt!" Her voice rang in terror. Uncle Bobby stood in the threshold of the door and continued gaping at the child in complete shock. "Uncle Bobby, where's Dean?" Sam asked again, the increased agitation unsettled him even more. He wiggled until Kristina could no longer hold him steady, and she slumped slowly and let him back on his feet. He immediately ran and stood behind Bobby's leg. Peering up to look between the two adults faces.
Uncle Bobby was really mad. "Kristina Ann, you'd better start - Sam, cover your ears." The severity in Bobby's voice made Sam hold his questions, and he covered his ears at once. He was never allowed to listen in on the grownup talk. He watched in silence as the veins in Uncle Bobbys forehead popped out and he started going red in the face with fury. Sam wasn't good at reading lips yet, but whatever he had told Kristina, it was very rude. Kristina's eyes welled up, she nod. Then, as the first teardrop fell she blew past the two of them and quickly ran into the library.
Bobby turned and looked at Sam as the kid uncovered his ears. Bobby squatted down to eye level with him, "Listen, Sam, it's really important that you tell me the last thing you remember." Sam bit his lip, he made a promise to Dean that he wouldn't tell, but the look Uncle Bobby was giving him made him cave.
"We snuck out the front door and walked around the junkyard. He stole some beers after you went to sleep and didn't want you to - I started asking about mom and he got really really mad, shoved me down, and then ran away like a girl! I guess I got knocked out, because when I woke up, that lady was there and scooped me out of the dirt – who is she?" Sam exclaimed in a rush.
Bobby didn't say a word and Sam instantly felt guilty for tattling on Dean. "Please don't tell Dad that Dean was drinking beer. Dean will kill me, because I promised him I wouldn't tell, and Dad will kill Dean if he finds out! Uncle Bobby, please?" Bobby gently grabbed Sam by the shoulders. "I won't say a word. Now let's go check out that head of yours." Sam nod and took the lead to the bathroom and Bobby followed behind. "Where's Dean?" he asked. "Uh- He's probably still running like a girl, he'll come back when he gets hungry." That idea caused Sam to laugh.
What the hell is going on here? Bobby thought as he tended to the very small cut and very tender knot on the back of Sam's head. Sam, whom was twenty years younger all of a sudden. "Ow!" Sam whined. "Sorry bout that, kiddo, you hit your head pretty hard." Something wasn't right, maybe an after effect spell from the ritual they used to put Beth under. Kris was using some pretty heavy spellwork on Beth. He had Kris in the library covering the Devils trap and hiding all-things-hunting away so Sam couldn't see it. He also yelled at her to find a way to reverse the crap she had done that got them into the whole mess.
"Alright, that should do, Sam. Let's get some ice on it, with a lump on your head that big I don't want you going to sleep, and that's an order." Sam grinned and hopped from the countertop, Bobby caught him under the armpits and gently sat him on his feet.
"Easy there, settle down. You're already hurt, boy."
When Dean landed again, the sun was beginning to set. Beth was a teenager, she was a little shorter too, and her seat was almost to the steering wheel. He was in the passenger seat of her Curtis, Dean looked over and seen the anger held in her face as she drug a Winchester boot knife across her forearm. He yelled out, "Hey!" and watched the young kid slice herself open. She didn't even flinch as she turned her eyes away from the blood to look up at him. "Why the hell won't you die?" She huffed out in a bored tone, not using her knife, but not putting it away either. Dean was annoyed. "Yeah? Stop trying to kill me!" She said nothing, and continued to peer quizzically out of the windshield.
"Beth."
Beth's eyes instantly flared red, she tensed up and grabbed him by the neck, choking him against the window. She was ready for the fight, Dean noticed, even with how young she was in this grand one hundredth episode of 'Beth's Hell Inn'. "Why are you here?" Dean held his hands up to indicate that he meant her no harm. He'd picked up a few tips the first few times that they'd dropped in and out of her Hell fire. She popped him like a bubble every time he said something smart assy enough to set her off, but he literally couldn't do anything else except pop back in through the Kansas loop and stare into her eyes until she let it go – or the spell was reversed. "I'm from the future." He thought quickly, and slowly moved his hand to show her the ring band on his finger, "Look, Beth Singer, I am your husband." Beth looked, like she did twelve other times before she blasted him into chunky beef stew.
Dean thought about what Cas would make of this type of situation. "I know about the deal you and- Kris made with – Crowley - your daddy issues – " Dean gasped under her grip, but somehow continued on. " - your son, and im here to help you - from becoming a monster." Beth scoffed, but didn't kill him this time. "You're lying, I can sense the grace in you." She sniffed, and her nose bunched in disgust. Dean took offense, "First of all, before you go sicken your Hell Hounds on me again - I am not one of those douchebags!" "And you just keep coming back for more." She laughed, dropped her hand, and said. "Get out, before I put you out." Dean then immediately noticed the evil power radiate off of her as red eyes began to smoke in their sockets. If he made any sudden movement, she would attack. He was going to get his eggs scrambled in another episode of Teen Mom.
"I'm not a friggin Angel. Call me a Guardian of the galaxy – or, a Storm Trooper, whatever." Dean blurted. "Now put those creepy eyes away, so we can talk this thing through. We're fighting on the same side here, Beth, and I need you to listen to me very carefully if you want to beat this." Beth tensed up even more when he placed a hand on her shoulder as she tried a breathing exercise. "Good, that's good -What year is this?" He asked her. Start small; this had been one of the more challenging parts of the spell, and tapping into this particular memory was difficult. Beth was trying very hard to keep him out of it, but she was finally giving in, and he was physically relieved when the flames gradually started to cease.
"2005" she said, releasing her breath. She reached under her seat and pulled the bar, as the seat rolled back, it protruded two machetes. She handed one off to Dean. "I don't know how well that Angel juice is gonna work on vampires, but we're sitting in the center of the biggest nest in Florida." Beth told him, he could finally start to see her eyes hidden behind a thin red film. "What?" "With the twilight hype up, half the damn county thinks it's cool – but if you see the sparkly fangs coming – cut the suckers head off." She instructed, and then she stepped out of the car, leaving him behind.
Dean tried to wrap his head around everything, he quickly shuffled outside of the car, and caught up with her in the thickening trees. "Isn't this when Kristina started to hunt with you?" he asked, remembering the stories from the future. 2005 was the same year that Sam had joined him on the job again. Something hit Dean in the chest, an intense feeling that he'd never experienced before. He thought his heart was going to explode right there on spot, then a cooling rush spread through his entire being, and he felt stronger than ever.
Beth's face masked in disgust, "I trust Kris as far as I can thrOW UP – you reek!" she gagged a little, then fanned the air infront of her. Dean opened his mouth to respond, but it was too late as leaves began to ruffle and sticks began to snap. "Here comes the fun." She turned and flashed him a bright grin, with a nod of enthusiasm she readied her weapon and went back to back with Dean so they had a full 360 advantage. "Beth, how about you go back to the car?" He suggested, checking over his shoulder to make sure she was still there, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for the incoming attack. His senses were unusually heightened, he could directly pinpoint their location and knew they were going to be ambushed by at least a baker's dozen in less than five seconds.
"This is kind of my job, dude. Besides, they can smell my special Hell power infused blo – THERE!"
It was a bloody vicious battle of two against fifteen. Dean huffed for breath in the darkness as he'd touched the last vamp on the head with a bare hand and watched its eyes burn out in white light, he hacked off its head for good measure, just as he did the others he could get his hands on. Beth, blood-soaked and limping, leaned against the side of her car, said, "Damn, you're good. If you aren't an Angel, then what the Hell are you?" Dean laughed, grinning, the hardcore hunt put him in a happy mood, and he had no good answer.
Her eyes had finally settled, and his part of the job was finally done. He crossed his arms and studied her as she pulled an ordinary diaper bag out of the car and rummaged through it. "Here." She tossed the packet overhead, and Dean caught the baby wipes. "Can I ask you something?" he asked, frowning as he ripped the package open and began to rub the blood from his face.
"Shoot."
"For the love of apple pie - why are you out here alone on suicide hunts instead of at home, taking care of your baby?"
Her head snapped up to look at him with hard eyes, "I am taking care of him." she growled.
"No, you're not." He said, and noticed as Beth began to slacken her tough girl stance, her shoulders slumped and she dropped the bloody baby wipe she'd been using into the pile. "I don't expect you to understand my-" She started, but then Dean snapped as that cooling rush once again coursed through his body, "I do understand. I had a son myself, and I let this damn job come first so I could be just like my shitty father,' Dean punched the hood with all his anger, the blow was so strong that his fist dent in a perfect punch to the car body.
"that I idolized so friggin much. I threw out my only chance of normal because I couldn't let this lifestyle go. My son and Lisa were almost killed twice because of my stupidity, so I had Cas erase myself out of their lives forever!" Beth remained silent as Dean continued on his emotional rampage, she knew that her silence was needed more than anything when a man hit his breaking point.
She looked at the broken rouge Angel man with a somber look on her face. "Don't give me that look! Hunting monsters is the only thing I seem to be good for, and im damn good at what I do." He said matter-of-factually. "Hell, it's the reason im here right now – to save your bacon from being fried and served hot n crunchy on Hell's breakfast buffet. It's too late for me, Beth, I burnt my bridge to ash some fifteen thousand miles ago – But you, you can still get out. Don't let this whole jacked up situation turn you into something folks like us would want to hunt."
Beth's blue eyes watered, she rubbed her fists to them, "I can't get out." she cried lowly. Dean's words were stern and angry. "Back in my time, my wife – You! You are lying iron clad inside of a friggin Devils Trap, under two and a half tons of prehistoric Witchcraft that I didn't even know existed, because you let Hell win over on her." Dean's tone lowered in severity as defeat swept over him, "I keep letting myself care about you too much, Beth, I can't - I can't keep feeling that way if I'm the one that has to take you out." he cleared his throat as his voice had started to shake, "I would never forgive myself if it comes down to that, but you better believe me when I say that I won't even hesitate. So get out." he finished quietly, forcefully yanking baby wipes out from their sealed top. "I can't get out!" Beth snarled, very upset, and then the world around Dean began to shift again. "Oh, come on! You have got to be kiddi-"
He gasped awake on the couch in Bobby's library, the early sun was starting to make its peak, and then he looked around the room for Sam. The room was empty except for Beth, whom was lying on the rug with a pile of blanket tossed over her and a pillow supporting her head. Her hair had been stripped of the black and was now a pale shade of blonde. He noticed he was still in a cast, "Sam! Bobby!" he shouted out into the house as he sat up. Beth began to stir, chains rattled, "Dean?" she asked groggily. He got up and hobbled down next to her as she looked up at him with scared and confused eyes, he helped her lean up in a sitting position. "What happened? What did you guys do to my head? Oh god, it burns, Dean!"
Dean swept the top of the desk for the keys and shushed her. "Beth, is it really you?" he asked, then sent a splash of holy water into her face. She rubbed her face with her shoulder, and then gave Dean her famous somber look. "Let me outta this crap so I can get up and spank your candy ass, right now, man to man." Dean grinned, his Beth was back, "I love it when you talk dirty to me." he snickered. "Prick." She jerked her elbow as best she could into his rib as he unlocked her. As he was helping her up to her feet, small footsteps trotted into the room. "Mom! Dad!" Dean looked away from Beth's slack face as she took in the tiny person whom had proclaimed her 'Mom' and became paralyzed as he watched Sam run across the room and fling his short arms around them. "I knew she wasn't just gone! Is Mom okay, Dad?"
The longest minute in the history of time passed, Dean didn't move at all, he didn't breathe. "Daddy, are you okay? What happened to your leg?" Sam began questioning again, he let go of Dean and clang to Beth. Beth pulled herself together faster and forced a smile onto her face as she knelt to his level, "Everything's fine, sweetie." she gently brushed her fingers through his chestnut locks and wrapped her arms around him when he hugged her tight, then she gently pulled him back by the shoulders when he slacked his tight hold on her, "Go find Uncle Bobby, can you do that?" she asked. He jumped in excitement and nod, "Yeah, but then im gonna go find Dean! He has to see, he missed you a lot, Mom!" Sam spun on his heels and ran out of the room on a quest. Beth straightened and turned, "Dean, Dean…is that Sam? Please don't tell me that was Sam." she shook him.
When his eyes snapped to hers, they were angry, "What the hell was that?" he demanded.
"You zonked out of it and my motherly instinct kicked in! What was I supposed to do, he looks lik-"
"Like a six year old?" He snapped, "Yes, I can see that, but how?"
Beth scooped her hands into her hair, "I don't have the slightest clue, we've been gone for God knows how long - oh no, im a friggin blonde!" she drug her fingers through it. Then she paused, a curious look came over her face as she slowly felt her curls, "What the hell?" she lifted a chunk to her nose and smelled it. "Somebody fried it with bleach!" Beth hissed. "Now is not the time to bitch about your hair!" Dean exploded, then sat back on the couch. Beth let her hands fall and flopped down beside him, she said nothing else, and they stared into nothingness. "He thinks you're our Mother." It was the most broken sound Beth had ever heard. "I'm sorry." She said, then placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze.
They turned their heads when they heard footsteps enter the room and looked up at Bobby as he held a toddler Sam to his hip. The child gnawed on a large cookie, "Guy's, we've got a little problem on our hands." He slightly tilted his head in the direction of Sam. Sam wiggled himself free of being held by Bobby and darted to the couch, he climbed into Dean's lap and asked, "Dad, where's Dean?" he broke the cookie in half and offered the biggest chunk of it out to him. Dean looked between the cookie and the kid, he was at a total loss for words, and then Beth jabbed him in the ribs again. He managed to accept the cookie and say, "Tell me what happened, Sammy." and Sam went on to tell him of the fight that had happened, how Kristina was there to help, and that she said Dean was being punished for hurting him. As the oblivious child went on, the three adults in the room exchanged glances. Beth abruptly blurted out, "That double crossing, sap sorry, son of a bitch! Why would she do this? I'm gonna break her damn neck!" Sammy gasped, "Mom, that's mean!" and she apologized. "Where is she?" asked Dean.
"I got her in the basement sorting through laundry, and she ain't talkin'." Bobby said casually. Dean began to lift Sam off of his lap, "Sammy, I'm gonna leave you here with Be- Mommy." He met eyes with Beth as he passed Sam off to her, his face was beyond pissed off, but his eyes never looked sadder. She cradled him, and Sam smiled shyly up at her. "You two stay put, I will be right back." He stood up, having to find his balance in the cast, and began to make his way to the basement. "Do you want me to go down there with you? I could help." Beth offered. Dean glanced over his shoulder and took in the sight of Sam curling his tiny cookie crumb covered hands up in her blonde hair and his heart hit the floor. "No, you stay with Sammy. You're a mom, so be a mom. I can handle a pile of dirty laundry." and he slammed the basement door shut behind him so hard it caused the frame to rattle, and Sam jolted into Beth, frightened by his fathers next round of unexplained anger.