"…Denver Times from yesterday?" Henry walked into the phone call in the middle of Crowley speaking. The British accent was surprising to say the least. The voice in general was surprising. Henry had always assumed that the King of Hell (not that he spent a good deal of time thinking there even was a King of Hell) would have a deep gravelly voice, more similar to Castiel's. This pristine accent and careful wording didn't seem fitting. Although, he thought, he did sound like a diplomat. "No? Well, you should. It's side-splitting. What the hell, I'm sexting you an address. Check it out. Then we'll talk. Cheerio."

"Wait, what? Crowley?!" Sam hung up the phone angrily.

"Got it," Dean said from Henry's other side. He had his phone opened up to the newspaper Crowley had indicated. Henry leaned over slightly to get a view of the headline. "Vic's name is Tommy Collins. Tommy. Why do I know that name?" Henry swallowed. He knew that name. Well, they would have had to find out sometime, Henry supposed.

"You saved him from a Wendigo," Henry said, "a long time ago." Dean looked at him in shock and Henry could see Sam pulling a similar expression in his peripheral vision.

"How the hell do you know that?" Dean asked. Henry sighed and looked down, sticking his hands in his pockets and kicking at the dirt.

"I read about it," he said, attempting to be vague. He looked up and saw the moment the realization hit Dean's face. For all Dean's talk about hiding emotions, Henry was starting to figure out he didn't cover them up very well after all.

"You read about it?" Dean ground out. "Where did you read about it?" Sam sighed from the left.

"Did Charlie help you find them?" the younger Winchester asked. He was more resigned than angry, unlike Dean. Henry nodded, looking down again.

"I hate those damn books," Dean said, seething. "I hate them. And why in the hell are you reading them?" Dean threw his hands up in the air. Henry let out another huge breathe of air.

"Well, you wouldn't tell me anything so I decided to find out for myself," he said, finally allowing himself to look up and defend his reasons. He could be every bit as combative as Dean if he wanted to be.

"You don't just… dig into our lives like that!" Dean shouted. "We would have told you. Eventually." Sam and Henry gave him identical looks of 'that's bullshit' that would have been hilarious had Dean not been all worked up. "Fine! We wouldn't have told you. But it still isn't ok!"

"It isn't ok to want to know about the lives my grandsons have lived?" Henry asked. "The lives I caused to happen?" Even the air went quiet. Dean's hands, which had still been raised in angry gesticulation, slowly lowered and Sam was giving Henry a measured look.

"That you caused?" Sam asked, still quiet, as if yelling again would break the air around them into bits of glass. "You think you caused our lives?"

"I know I did," Henry said. "I left John. None of this would have gone the way it has had I not left him that night. Had I gone back when I still could."

"You can't anymore?" Dean asked. Damn, Henry thought, I really didn't want to do this yet.

"No, I can't," Henry said. "I've… tried. Done tests. I have had a lot of time alone in the bunker. My soul was tainted by Abaddon. I can no longer use it as a power source." Henry assumed from the look on Sam's face that at least one Winchester had figured this out on his own. Dean looked shocked. "Besides, according to Castiel, traveling back in time would not alter what has happened now. He told me that this future is set."

"Well, I could have told you that," Dean said, huffing. He couldn't seem to have the equal measure of rage that had built up in him a few minutes earlier. "Time's a bitch." Henry and Sam both gave an identical small smile.

"It isn't your fault, Henry," Sam said, knowing Dean wouldn't. "Heaven has had this screwed up plan for a long time. There isn't something you could have done."

"Yeah, heaven had us fucked over sideways for a long time before you made any decisions," Dean said. He shuffled before finally forcing himself to say more. "It isn't your fault, old man. But we're going to talk about this book thing more later!" He pointed at Henry to emphasize his point.

"Of course," Henry smiled. "So what does Tommy Collins have to do with the King of Hell?"

"Huh, I don't know, d'ya think Crowley blew his head off?" Dean asked, "Some sort of Demon-Wendigo team-up?"

"No clue," Sam admitted.

"Well, we'll figure that one out later. As far as Crowley goes, screw him. We've got everything we need to put him in a permanent time-out," Dean gestured back to the warehouse. The three Winchesters made their way back inside, carefully. The empty chair, Henry decided later, was the worst thing he had ever seen.

The room had smelled like burning flesh and Henry could still feel the gross scent in his nose. He fought the urge to gag like he had when they found the body. Henry knew the Impala, which they were in once again, heading to the Ivy Motel, smelled fine. Dean would never let anything leave a scent on the car, yet somehow the smell was following Henry.

The Ivy Motel ended up being a nice place. It was cleanly kept and didn't smell the way Henry assumed the majority of motels Dean and Sam stayed in smelled like. The whole building was a soft robin's egg blue and the trim looked like it was touched up regularly. There were even well-maintained hedges and a small water feature out front.

Henry went to the door with Sam. He had figured out in the car who the next person on their list would be: Sarah Blake. Crowley was going in chronological order. First saved, first killed. It had a sick sense of poetry. Sam steeled up his shoulders and knocked on the door. It opened up fairly quickly and they were both met with a set of disbelieving eyes.

"Sarah," Sam greeted grimly.

"Sam?" Sarah looked exactly as Henry had pictured her: young, beautiful, and vibrant. She looked happy, Henry thought. Though less happy now that Sam Winchester was at her door. "What's going on?"

"Can we come in?" Sam asked. Sarah hesitated for the briefest of moments but Henry saw it, and assumed Sam had noticed it as well. "It's important."

"Yes, right, of course," Sarah moved out of the way and gestured them inside. She gave Henry a curious look.

"I'm Henry," he stuck out an awkward hand, "I'm… a friend of Sam and Dean's." He decided that that would have to be his introduction to people from now on, if he was to continue to go out. A friend, that was all.

"He's family," Sam amended from the side, meeting Henry's eyes evenly. It brought a smile to his face and he nodded slightly.

"Sam, what the hell is going on?" Sarah asked. "Not that I'm not happy so see you, but I'm just curious. And mildly concerned for my safety." Sam sighed.

"There is something, something bad, that's coming after you," he said. Henry rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, Sam, for being as vague and terrifying as possible," he said, stepping forward. Sam gave him a look that Dean commonly referred to as bitchface #21 but Sarah smiled the tiniest bit at him. "A demon named Crowley is on his way to kill you. He is trying to kill everyone the boys have ever saved as a method of getting his way in much bigger plans. He has given us a few minutes to get here and prepare. We have about 16 minutes as of right now." He tried to be economical with his words, something he had always excelled at in school. He knew the business side of Sarah would find it important to understand her situation quickly so she could react. Apparently he had been correct because Sarah didn't seem to be going into hysterics.

"A demon named Crowley is going to kill me in… 16 minutes," Sarah looked for confirmation.

"No," Sam said. "No, he's not." A knock sounded on the door and Sam walked over to get it. Sarah looked back at Henry.

"Family?" she inquired, tilting her head towards Sam.

"Long story," Henry smiled.

"Sarah, long time," Dean grinned as he grunted his way into the room with the number of bags in his hands. "What are you doing in Indy?"

"I was… scouting an estate for my dad," Sarah said. Dean made an interested noise that Henry knew meant he really wasn't interested at all. He went over to the older Winchester and started helping to unpack the large quantities of equipment from various bags.

"Look," Sam said, "we're gonna put Devil's Traps everywhere – the windows, the door. We've got holy water, an exorcism ready to play on a loop, and anything that comes through that door – it's meat. I know this is insane, but insane is kind of what we do. We'll keep you safe." Henry felt like the speech seemed rehearsed, like Sam had been trying to figure out what to say to Sarah all the way here. He remembered the words that he read about Dean saying years before, that Sam should have stayed and married her. He wondered what went through Sam's head as he looked at her now.

"Okay," Sarah said.

"Okay?" Dean asked, looking up. "Okay, that's it?"

"You've done it before," she said, shrugging. Henry decided he really liked Sarah. Sam went and sat down on the bed and Sarah followed suit so Henry turned to help Dean set up the Traps and wards. They spray-painted the large symbols on every surface.

"Dean," Henry asked, "what do you think would have happened? If Sam had stayed with Sarah all those years ago, I mean?" Dean's face took on a hardened quality.

"A lot less would have happened," Dean said. Henry took in the expression on Dean's face and decided he would really rather not dig any more into that particular emotion. He turned back to Sarah and Sam to see them talking. Sarah fiddled with a ring on her finger, but she was smiling as she spoke to Sam.

"She's married," Henry noted, quietly. Dean grunted and sprayed another sigil on the window. He threw the can back into the bag as he finished when the phone in the room started ringing. All four heads swiveled to look at it.

"Crowley," Dean ground out as he answered the phone. His face quickly turned from one of determined anger to fear as he took in whatever Crowley was saying on the other end. His eyes shot over to Sarah just in time for her to start choking desperately.

"Sarah!" Sam fell down to the floor with her, "Hey! Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Sarah?"

"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted. He was silent for a minute as he listened to Crowley.

"It's a spell!" Sam shouted, "Find the hex bag!" Henry ran to the chair in the room and started ripping apart cushions, all the time to think of any sort of counter spell. He had to know something. He had to be useful somehow. Crowley's cold voice continued as they searched and Sarah gasped weakly from the floor.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! You're gonna be ok!" Sam shouted again as he wrenched the bed away from the wall and felt at the carpet.

"Sarah?" Crowley voice echoed through the room now, "They're your life's work, and I'm going to rip it apart piece by piece because I can, because you can't stop me, and because when they're all gone, what will you have left?" Henry let out a frustrated roar as he tore the drawers from the dresser. The action broke the wood on either side of the drawer. Crowley almost chuckled over the line and Henry felt the urge to rip his throat out.

"No! No, no, no, please, no!" Sam held Sarah's head in his hands as she was letting out the last wisps of her air when Henry remembered. He stood straight, dropping the remains of the drawer he held and running to the duffle bad Dean had left in the middle of the room. Sarah fell lifeless and Sam let out a growl just as Henry found what he was looking for in the bag. He grabbed holy water and holy oil and dumped them both into a bowl he found in the room. Crowley was still talking.

"You want to keep those people alive?" he said. He was almost snarling. "I want complete and utter surrender. The Tablet, the trials – you'll give them up, or we'll keep doing this dance. Your choice, my darlings." The whole time he was talking, Henry was working. He grabbed a knife, sliced his hand open, and let the blood drip into the water.

Dean and Sam were watching him like he was the crazy one. As Crowley signed off, Henry whispered and dropped a lit match into the mixture, "utor uti." The oil flared for a moment and then went out and across the room Dean dropped the phone from his hand with a sharp yelp and then held it like he had been burned. Henry ran to the object, ripped the back off the phone, and his hand emerged with the hex bag clasped tightly.

"Match!" Henry yelled. Dean tossed him his lighter and suddenly the hex bag was ablaze. Henry looked over at Sarah and just thought over and over, too late, too late, too late. Sam leaned over her face and gave her a sharp burst of air and then started pounding on her chest, counting. Too late. And then it wasn't. Sarah's eyes lit up with life again as she sucked in fresh air.

"Sarah!" Sam lifted her up. "Breathe, just breathe. You're ok. You're fine." Sarah tried to breathe inwards and coughed a bit, but she kept breathing. Henry's shoulders dropped with relief and he handed Dean's lighter back to him. He didn't expect the hard hand landing on his back.

"Good job, Henry," Dean said. His hand stayed on Henry's shoulder, keeping him standing.

"What happened?" Sarah coughed from the floor. She sat up with Sam's help, her hand still over her throat like she needed the reassurance that it was going to keep her breathing this time.

"Looks like Henry just saved your life," Sam said, looking up at him. His eyes were wide and grateful.

"I'm glad I'm useful for something," he said.

"You're more than useful," Dean grunted, looking down. Henry took it with a smile. It was as close as he thought he would ever get to Dean saying 'I love you'.

"Thank you, Henry," Sarah said. "Thank you." Dean looked at the phone on the ground.

"Can't believe the bastard hid it in the phone," he fumed. "That dick is done for."

"I have a feeling he'll be knocked down a couple of pegs when he finds out Sarah is still breathing," Sam said, smug. Dean considered for a minute and then shook his head.

"No," he said, "we play this like he succeeded. Like we're giving up the fight." Henry looked at him.

"You're going to meet with him?" he asked. Dean smiled.

"And then we cure ourselves a King of Hell."

"I can't believe how stupid they are," Henry grumbled. The prophet, Kevin, was looking at him strangely.

"So… you're their grandpa?" Kevin asked. Henry rolled his eyes.

"Everyone always feels the need to clarify that," he said. He paced back and forth across the floor, around the huge table covered in books that Kevin sat at. The prophet had shown up about half an hour earlier, sent by Sam and Dean while they tried their pretty much guaranteed-to-fail plan. Why on earth had he let them go?

"Well, it isn't exactly usual to meet anyone that Sam and Dean know, first of all," Kevin said. "Mainly because everyone they meet ends up dead. But also, you're a time traveler, which is not as common in the future as you may have been led to believe." Henry stopped pacing to give Kevin a withering look.

"No, really? I thought there were tons of time travelers nowadays, just wandering around. I can't believe they didn't tell me I'm the only one. I'm crushed." Kevin laughed. "What?"

"It's just," Kevin laughed again, "you are definitely related to the Winchesters." Henry grunted and went back to pacing. "Look, gramps," Kevin started.

"Why do people keep calling me that?" Henry groaned.

"Sam and Dean have saved a lot of people," Kevin continued, ignoring Henry, "they aren't as stupid as they seem. They'll be fine." They both looked up when the sound of the bunker door opening was heard.

"Sam? Dean?" Henry called, walking around to see the door.

"Not entirely right," a deep voice said.

"Cas?" Kevin came around next to Henry. Both Dean and Castiel got to the bottom of the stairs and Henry suddenly wondered if Kevin noticed how close the two stood when they were together, if the prophet knew or had guessed. It was an odd curiosity to have, but Henry couldn't help thinking it.

"Hello, Kevin," Cas smiled slightly at the prophet. Dean pushed his way past the angel and the two men to put a heavy block onto the table.

"Is this a joke?" Kevin asked, coming forward.

"No, it's the word of God," Henry swallowed a laugh. The angel really could be oblivious at times. He looked over to see that Kevin hadn't managed to contain his own laugh.

"What?"

"It's a tablet, all right?" Dean said, "Translate. That's what you do."

"Okay, um, it's the Angel Tablet, which I've never laid eyes on in my life," Kevin said. "You want a translation in like six hours when it took me six months and a dead mom to translate a piece of the Demon tablet?" He chuckled darkly this time and went over to retrieve a bottle of alcohol that Henry hadn't noticed before. Kevin must have brought it in with him. "This is not what I do, it's what I did. You told me I was out, Dean." He took a deep drink from the glass he had poured.

"Yeah, well—"

"And if this is gonna be the 'guys like us are never out' speech, save it." Castiel made a move like he was going to approach Kevin but he let his arms fall back after just a moment.

"Dean's right," he admitted. Dean look over at Cas with sad eyes that said he wasn't as happy to be agreed with in this particular instance.

"Cas," he reached out and put a hand on Cas's shoulder.

"There never seems to be an out," Cas said. "There is only ever duty." Kevin shuffled uncomfortably.

"You can't think that," Henry said. Cas looked up to meet his eyes and Henry saw in their deep blue depths that he really did. The angel really didn't think there was an end to any of this to be found. How did he keep fighting when he felt like there was nothing he could ever achieve? Cas let out a breath, which was disconcerting considering he didn't even need to breathe regularly, let alone to show a release of suchsadness.

"You are a prophet of the lord, always and forever, until the day you cease to exist and another prophet takes your place," Castiel said. He finally seemed to register Dean's hand on his shoulder and he stood up straighter, trying to erase the lines of emotion that had just been etched in his every body part. "Now, are you clear as to the task before you?" Kevin nodded as an answer.

The room was silent for a moment until Henry's brain shifted back into focus and he remembered to ask, "Sam?"

"Fine," Dean said. "With Crowley." Henry nodded.

"Let's go, Dean," Castiel said. He turned back for a moment after he grasped Dean's hand. "It was good to see you again, Henry." With the sound of wings both of the men were gone.

"Dicks," Kevin exhaled with the smallest of laughs, like he didn't really mean it, and Henry didn't really think he did.

"I can't believe it actually worked," Henry admitted. Kevin grunted in agreement and sat down at the table to start translating.

"I can't believe anything they do works, but hey, they're still here, aren't they?" Kevin asked. Henry considered the question for a minute.

"Barely," he said. "And only after a couple of tries." But Kevin didn't hear him. Henry shrugged and went back to Kevin's notes about the trials, trying desperately not to over worry about whatever was happening with Sam and Crowley down at the church.

Henry pretended he wasn't trying to listen in on Kevin's phone call with Dean, or, he had been pretending until Kevin's voice had gotten more frantic.

"Dean?" He said into the phone, "Dean!" He looked like he was about to open his mouth again and then he stopped suddenly and sucked in his mouth like he was listening. Henry got up from the table and Kevin raised one finger in waiting. His eyes got suddenly wide and he ran back to look at his notes about the Demon Tablet and at the new Angel Tablet in their possession. Henry heard Dean's voice yelling through the receiver but he didn't pick up on any specific words.

"I don't know!" Kevin shouted, shoving papers aside fanatically. He listened for a few more beats and then stopped moving entirely.

"What?" Henry asked, moving forward. Kevin waved him off.

"Are you sure?" Kevin asked into the phone. He looked up at Henry uneasily and then away again. "Dean, I don't know if… yeah. Yeah, ok. Fine." The prophet pulled the phone from his ear and hit a button which turned the whole screen black again.

"What did he say?" Henry asked. It had seemed too urgent on the phone and now he was worried.

"Uh," Kevin shifted his weight, looking down. "Dean thinks we missed something with the trials. We need to look over the notes again. " Kevin shuffled to the table and Henry followed quickly. He sat down and grabbed a book and Kevin moved out of his sightline. "I need something from the kitchen, I'll be right back."

"What are we looking for?" He asked.

"Stuff about Sam's trials," Kevin said from down the hall. "Something we missed."

"I'm going to need something more specific, Kevin," Henry rolled his eyes and tried to stay calm. "Something we missed like what?"

"How to prevent Sam from dying," Kevin said softly from somewhere to Henry's left. Henry stilled.

"What?"

"Naomi visited Dean and Cas. She says the trials are going to kill Sam." Henry put down the piece of paper he was holding and fell into his chair more heavily, trying to process. His brain finally clicked into place and he sat up again.

"I have to go," he said, "I have to help. Kevin? Where are you?" Henry looked around and started to stand up.

"I'm sorry, Henry," Kevin's voice came from directly behind him. He felt something strong and thick hit the back of his head and then everything went black.

Henry woke up to the sound of alarms blaring. Lights were going off all around him. The table, in particular, was glowing in ways it never had. He groaned as he felt the pain in the back of his head and tried to lift an arm to touch it, "tried" being the operative term.

His hands were tied down to his chair tight, along with his ankles. He hadn't been moved from the chair he was sitting in before Kevin knocked him out; he had just been fastened down. Kevin. Where was that little ass-wipe?

"Kevin?" Henry called out over the sound of blaring machinery. The dark-haired prophet slid into Henry's sightline looking visibly distressed. Well, how could he not be, with these alarms going off the way they were?

"Henry!" Kevin called, "I'm so sorry! Dean made me promise to knock you out so you wouldn't go after Sam!"

"Untie me!" Henry snarled back. Kevin made a face but came forward anyway. "What the hell is going on?"

"I have no idea," Kevin confessed, looking utterly lost. He looked back at Henry to see him walking towards the main bunker door. "Hey, where are you going?" Henry shut the door before he had time to answer. He stalked over to the brother's second car and got in using the key he had found in a drawer earlier to start the ignition. He scorched out of the parking space and made his way to the main road, going faster and faster, trying to ignore the burning balls of light that fell from everywhere across the sky. He figured he might have a reasonable explanation, now, for Kevin's alarm issues.

He pushed the gas pedal down harder. "Come on, you piece of junk, make it," he growled, leaning forward. He knew well-enough where Sam and Dean had planned to take Crowley, he just wished it wasn't as hard to get there. One of the balls of flame crashed down on his right, only a few feet from the car and Henry was surprised to see it seemed to be a man. He looked battered and broken, which made sense considering how far he had fallen. Henry heard his phone ring and he wrenched it out of his pocket, answering before looking at the caller ID.

"Henry," Kevin breathed out at the other end, "I really am sorry."

"Not the time, prophet boy," Henry said and hung up. He swerved around another broken figure on the road and pushed the gas pedal hard enough he was surprised it didn't break through the floor.

Finally, finally he was there. The last spare balls of flame fell through the sky and Henry found himself thinking how beautiful it all was. He saw the shine of the Impala and stopped abruptly, jumping out of the car without bothering to turn it off.

Dean and Sam both sat against the car, looking up in dismay at the sky. They didn't even hear the loud engine pull up only a few feet away from them. Henry moved forward quickly and his breath caught when he saw Sam.

Sam was… so broken looking. As sick as he had seemed before, this was worse. His skin was a deathly gray and his eyes were sagging. He looked like he hadn't slept in a year and hadn't eaten in three. The noise Henry made upon seeing his grandson is what finally alerted Dean to his presence.

"Henry!" He almost tried to get up, but then remembered how much he was supporting Sam, even in getting him to remain sitting upright. Sam's head swiveled weakly to look at Henry too.

"Oh, thank God," Henry whispered, and he fell down on his knees in front of both men, "my boys." He wrapped his arms tightly around both of them until finally the world fell silent and the last great ball of light crashed into the earth.

Thanks for reading Part 1 of the Henry Verse! This Verse is available on AO3 and more will be added. I will just be labeling a new fic on here as part 2 next week or so, so keep your eyes out! Please favorite/review :)