Impala:
The last two words out of Crowley's mouth before he hung up - or Dean hung up for him – the last two words weren't: 'you're not totally alone', or 'wait this out Sam' or 'you do have friends', or any of the other shit that Crowley had been saying; the last two words of the call were: 'Demon Blood'. For a moment I think Crowley is back to his old self – would actually be a relief – and thinks I should start drinking blood again. Then I realize he is reminding me of something I would rather we had all forgotten: I have demon blood in my veins. I am no more human than my little Anna will be, and neither heaven nor hell has any true idea what she is. It is only me and Crowley. I don't think he understands what this means any better than I do.
Bat-Cave, Basement:
Cas holds on too tight; fucking great, Cas is panicking. Ok, so he's human, but now isn't a great time to panic. "Dean, Sam's baby, it may be an Anti-Christ." Yeah, that is a good reason to panic. Something cold settles over me, what if Cas wants to kill the baby; like hunters wanted to kill Sammy; like Dad thought I should, thought I would shoot Sammy, hell, like I sometimes thought I should shoot Sammy; like I wanted to kill the baby fifteen minutes ago. I pull Cas around, to my chest, into, closer to me, stroke his back just to bring him back to himself, to here; his breathing on my neck is uneven. Cas I won't let you go, I hope you know that, I'm not going to be saying it anytime. Cas—he isn't used to making human decisions about right and wrong, not to human emotions; he doesn't know how to do any of this. Cas whispers into my shoulder: "We should kill that monster, even if it takes Sam."
I had thought we were done with this shit, with divine ultimatums, apocalypses, ultimate battles of good and evil. Half an hour ago I had thought I could trust Cas ; not ten minutes ago I had known Cas had been lying to me, but I knew he would protect Sam. Now I know that Cas is telling the truth, and wants to kill the baby, and he is will to kill Sammy. I think I know that for 30 seconds.
"Dean, if, when, the Angels find out what he is carrying they will destroy Sam." Cas steps back; looks into me with blue eyes, makes me think he can never lie: "We're the only people who will be willing, able, to protect Sam." His eyes never leave mine: "And his baby." I let myself breathe a minute; we will work this out, we are going to be ok. "I started the whole thing." Cas goes on, "The baby is innocent; the baby was created because of my hubris; if blood is spilled it should be mine." And, no Cas, no, you stupid fucking idiot, just no, what the hell are you going to do anyhow? Throw yourself uselessly in the path of Angel hordes? You've not been human long enough to understand death, not our kind of death. Cas steps back, and runs a hand across his mouth, and I can see the lines around his eyes, and how close he is to crying; we are going to have tons of moments like this before he gets a handle on feelings. To protect Sam and the baby Cas has agreed to risk the world. I want to touch the new lines on Cas' face, hold him against me again, make Cas safe, I want to hold on, I want it to be Cas that's strong, I want the Cas that can solve this, I want to be able to trust Cas completely for once. But Cas is vulnerable, weak, breakable, the only way we can do this is together; and we may need Crowley.
"Her name is Anna." Yeah, that's right, Crowley is still here. "Sam calls his baby Anna." He gives us a pointed look, as though we've missed something. "Abbadon will want Anna, and Sam." Crowley is a crippled King of Hell, but he is the King of Hell none the less, he knows how these things are done. "And unlike the Angels who are in disarray, Abbadon knows how to fight and how to take what she wants; and Abbadon has an army." His lower lip tugs a little to the side, "Actually, she has my army." Was that a little annoyance in his voice? "But she doesn't know is that Sam's cherished-unborn-infant might be an Anti-Christ; she doesn't know she needs Sam immediately, actually within the next two months, while he is still carrying the baby. Whether she will want him dead or alive once she knows is the question; the same goes for Anna." He looks at his hands as he adds: "We don't know how soon she will find out. We need to get Sam."
"Two months?" What the fuck? What the hell else has he told Crowley? He told Crowley the baby's name, and the date she is coming. What the fuck else is Sammy telling him? The color he's chosen for the nursery? Who he wants the god parents to be? Where the hell he is?
"He's five months now, seven months, that's as soon as Anna has any chance of independent survival outside of Sam's body. Sam won't let us take her before then."
"Dean," I must have spaced out, Cas shakes me gently, acts as though he has always been in control of this, "Dean, we need to let Crowley fetch Sam."
Impala:
There is no way to drive off the edge of the world.
Bat-cave:
"I need to make a call?"
That's not a fucking question at all. I want to hit Crowley so damn hard that he wants to crawl out of his demon skin. I want to back him into a corner I hate that cocky look on that bastards face, the one that says he has us where he wants us, the one that says he has Sam.
Cas steps forward, he doesn't raise his voice at all, he looks straight at Crowley in a way that I no longer can; not since I realized I'm losing Sam to him, to a fucking demon. "We listen to every word you say," and Cas hasn't changed his tone, "and we know where you are every minute, and you find us Sam, and you're free." That's my Cas. Then Cas sets about freeing Crowley, undoing his chains, his cuffs, breaking the lines of the devils trap. Then, surprisingly practical, he is getting more that way all the time, "Crowley, can you drive a car?" Cas makes up for what he lacks in tone with his look of curiosity.
Crowley shakes his head, "I've never felt the need." He stares at Cas, who can't take a hint, "No."
Cas looks satisfied, he smiles at me, "Dean, we need you to come with us."
Yay, road-trip: me and Cas and Crowley. I can't explain how much I miss Sam. And the Impala, I miss the Impala.
Conference Room 13b, Outer Rings of Hell
"You ever-loving bastards, not one of you, not one, mentioned that Sam Winchester was the Anti-Christ?" I throw my hands up, "Was the Anti-Christ? You flubbed the apocalypse?" This may actually be what I find the most shocking about time-traveling through a closet and landing in the year 2013. "How in the," I can't find the words for these fools, "How in the sweet sweet ever-loving hell, could you, all of you," I cup the chin of the pretty one, squeezing his cheeks, "fail to mention that?" I turn my attention to the Angel, he is actually quite adorable, "Zeke?" and very, very useful, "And you say Sammy-true-vessel-of-Lucifer-Winchester is pregnant? Sam Winchester, took a drink of demon blood as a baby, and now an Angel gets him pregnant?" Oh, this is delightful. "And he didn't know anything?" So now Sam knows, and he's known for about a month, and he - and the Angels – think they have a Nephilim to break back into heaven. Sammy wants to keep his baby - how sweet- and he's on the run from murderous angels, and cruel brother Dean. Sam is the mommy-daddy of an Anti-Christ. And I can have an Anti-Christ all of my own. "What are you clowns waiting for? Go fetch him." They scatter. "Alive!" I add, they would probably bring me Mommy-Daddy-Sammy and an Anti-Christ-Child dead if I didn't tell them otherwise; I have to admit some compassion for Crowley, wherever the hell, or not hell, he is.
Impala:
'Anna, are you listening?' She doesn't really have a choice does she? 'I'm sorry about the demon blood, I really am.' I stroke a thumb over my belly, my other hand resting on the steering wheel. I think I feel the first signs of a bump—this is weird, I have to breathe, how am I reconcile this with being a man. I think I feel her move. That's good, I like her moving. 'Anna, everyone is going to be freaked out, ok? So we've got to keep moving.' I don't know where we are going. All I want to do is call Dean, all I know to do is call Dean, maybe he will have changed his mind. 'Anna, I wish I could to talk to your Uncle Dean.' I keep my foot on the accelerator. I am driving towards Kansas again. I wonder if the demons will also want her now. I wonder if the Angels will want her anymore. I wonder if Crowley will tell Dean. I wonder if Crowley has told Dean. I wonder if Dean blames himself for all of this. Sure he was dumb, sure I could blame Dean, but no one would have seen this coming. And after leaving him for dead maybe I deserve this. 'I don't deserve you Anna.' Anna is completely innocent. 'I'm sorry Anna, I will find you somewhere safe to be, I don't think I'm going to be able to stay, ok? Anna?' I know she can't answer me. Where the hell is safe without Dean? Garth can help bring her into the world, he says he can't but I know he can. I can just see Kevin fainting, at least that will be sort of funny. I wish Cas was an Angel again, I don't know where he stands, maybe I should call him, maybe he will be willing to protect her? Why the hell would I think he can, he doesn't even know how to drive; though he is good with a gun.
Bat-cave, Basement:
Cas picks up my knife, running the blade across his hand and offering the blood to Crowley. Crowley looks amused, "Castiel, I need to use your phone."
I guess Crowley is still pissed at Cas over the whole God, souls and purgatory thing.
Impala:
'Anna?' why do I expect her to respond—does shifting around count? 'Anna, I can't do it, I don't know where to go without your Uncle Dean.' There is a horror in the center of me, a fear that I haven't felt since my wall came down, I know we are being followed, I know we aren't safe. I know we have to get out of here. I need to dump the Impala, sorry Dean, and hotwire something less conspicuous. Do I leave the Impala where it is easy for Dean to find? Or hide it dark and deep from everyone who is looking at me? I left part of the arsenal at Garth's, I will take as much of what is left as I can. Great. Vitamins, protein powder, bottled water, candy bars, silver bullets, salt, shot gun, jeans that don't fit as well as they should, fake ID's, socks, I keep my wallet, what a fucking collection to carry with me. I crush a pack of cigarettes that I haven't smoke since I got my soul back, this is not that time to start craving anything. I can't turn back to Garth's place not with whatever this is on our tail. Can I risk going back to Garth ever? He is my last friend, do I ask him to take Anna? Do I risk calling him, asking him? It's no wonder no one wants to friends with a Winchester. Fuck it, my phone doesn't have any bars. I'll call him from a pay-phone later. 'Ok Anna, we're doing this, disappearing between the cracks of the world.' I write the last of sigils on my body, over Anna, hope it works, and head out into the dark. I have two months to figure this out, two months to find someone who can save, who will protect Anna.
I load my Taurus, and pocket my phone.
Lawrence Hilton, Conference Room 12b:
"How long, exactly how long have you had no idea of where to find Sam Winchester?" I am leaning over the conference room table, the stupid little Angels backing away from me. "You lost him? All you monkeys, you complete morons, needed to do was follow his car; and listen for the baby." The baby. Ezekiel is an idiot, first attempting to breed the Nephilim; second, breeding Sam Winchester, Sam-true-vessel-of-Lucifer-Winchester. "And you lost Ezekiel?" Ezekiel had been planning something on his own, had been trying to create his own Nephilim, talking to rogue Angels about plans, we have suspected him of talking to demons, now he is missing. Ezekiel should have been eliminated from the equation; instead these fools have lost him. Sam Winchester, without the car, will be hard to track, he is warded from us, but the baby we can hear, and she can hear us. Except now these asshats (I like that word, good word) have lost any lead on her—Sam may have realized the need to hide her from us also. If he has warded her Sam knows that not only is Dean, but we are also, following him. Maybe this instruction will be clear: "I want Sam Winchester and The Baby dead. Now."
On the street:
I duck into a deserted house on the wrong end of suburbia. I ward us against everything. I can feel that thing watching us. I will wait till morning to be moving on. I consider calling Dean.