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I've been too restless, too uncomfortable, I haven't really slept, which was the purpose of stopping. Anna's becoming more agitated the longer we spend here—we need to keep moving. My phone is charged, my gun is loaded, she and I are warded, I eat as best I can, and walk out into a cold dawn on the wrong side of suburbia.

In the bat-cave:

"Larry?" "Yes." "Well aware." "Been a little tied up here." "Abbadon." "Naturally."

I send Dean to check the computer and I keep a careful watch on Crowley. It is plausible that Crowley's telephone conversations are going better than is apparent. Several calls – numerous calls - later it appears that while he has support it doesn't seem to be that Hell's armies are on our side. Supposedly Crowley still has some pull, the cross-roads demons endorse him, as does any demon who wanted to avoid the apocalypse. The pro-apocalypse Luciferians have rallied behind Abbadon. Most seem undecided, and it is those calls that concern me. We don't need Crowley bringing attention to us; he isn't gifted with discretion, I will continue to monitor any calls he makes. We don't truly know what Crowley wants, all we have is his word; Sam may have sealed it with a kiss, but Dean won't touch the demon. It may be in Crowley's best interests to be rid of her, and not face a renewed potential for Armageddon; or he may be able to secure himself power by controlling her, controlling Sam. Crowley may use Sam's trust to take the infant anti-christ for himself.

I leave the basement, at Cas' instruction to take a final look at the Men-'O-Letters computer. Map looks like any map I've ever seen, with areas of light indicating Angels. Cas and I, and supposedly Kevin and Sam, hadn't been able to extract more detail. According to Sam the closer the Angles the brighter the light, the bigger the group the brighter the light—in other words estimating their numbers is hard but not impossible, but single or distant Angels may not have adequate grace to be registered by the system. What I do see is a convergence of Angels in Missouri, and a group of Angles spiraling out from Lawrence. They are after something, and that something is probably Sam, and Anna; and they are after them now. They move East to West, toward Missouri, then a brief jog South, and now scattering. If they had Sam, they just lost him. They not only just lost him, they apparently don't think he's coming here. We need to get Sam - and his Anna - here as soon as possible, while here is still safe. At least the bat-cave is defensible.

"I know where to go Cas." I shout across the bat-cave.

Cas doesn't respond, he's talking on the phone, he has taken it on himself to call Garth.

Wrong side of Suburbia:

I pull the plates from one car, and hotwire another—should make me a little harder to find—I don't need the cops on our tail. Not everything can be helped though. Now little Anna is getting quiet and I feel awful. I don't know why anyone would do this twice.

My phone rings: "Garth?" he doesn't usually call me, I call him, which means there is a crisis coming down. "Of course I pick up for you." "You heard from Cas?" "Cas you asked you to call me?" "He knows I'm not there." "He knows I'm really not there." "Kevin told him the same day?" "And Cas didn't tell Dean?" I can't help but laugh as Garth grumps about Dean calling all the time. That's how I know Dean, dog with a bone; he chased me down when my soul was in the pit, no reason he wouldn't track me down now. "Dean swears he is sorry and will protect the baby?" "And I should believe him because?" "Cas has something important to tell me about the Baby." "Something he wouldn't tell you, because he doesn't trust you?" Is it what Crowley said to me? I can understand why Cas would want to keep that from Garth; could it get more convoluted? "Cas said to tell me it's worse than what Crowley had understood?" I bite down my temper, no-one gets to say anything negative about Anna, not anyone that is planning on living. Cas should know that. This could be some kind of disaster. "Uh, I didn't know they were working with him." "Me?" "Yeah, I guess, sometimes I have been." "You're right Garth, I should have told you." "Yes, I'm sorry." "Of course I should trust you." And I do trust Garth (mostly); and I do trust Crowley (nearly), and I'm going to see about Cas, but I don't know what to do about Dean.

Pause. "Garth, Angels are following me." "Anna gets upset when they are near." "I talked to Crowley last night, and things are more complicated than they seemed." "Because of me Anna has demon blood in her."

Garth pauses only momentarily, the he asks: 'Does this change anything for you?'

And I say: 'No.'

Then he say: 'Good, this doesn't change anything for me.'

But the rest of the issues, the problems of what Dean wants and where Cas stands, still need to be addressed: "Garth, I'm sorry you're in the middle of this, but tell Cas to tell Dean I don't trust him." And don't tell Cas to tell Dean I miss him, and miss Cas, and fuck-it I even miss Crowley. And don't tell Dean that I am so, so close to turning to him for help, again. "Yeah, ok, I'll pick up for Crowley, but not Cas or Dean." And, oh, yeah, Garth, don't tell anyone that I don't think I you and I can do this alone, that even with Crowley on our side we are in way to deep.

On the road with Crowley:

"Dean, this choice is conspicuous." However, a Bugatti is always pretty. I watch Dean, confidant hands, strong, calloused, work worn, care worn, used, skilled hands rest on the steering wheel. He may say he is at home in the bat-cave, but behind the wheel of a car Dean is perfect; completely aware, as self-assured as he is with a gun in his hands, he is calm, quiet, steady, intense; he is carefully focused, intent on the task, on whatever his mission. He sits on the right side completely at home, change makes no difference, only concentrates him. He settles into the leather of the car, beautiful man and a beautiful machine. Dean lets a smile touch his lips, he is never happier than when he is driving.

"Hey, Crowley?" (I had forgotten he was there until Dean talked to him.) "I need directions. And while you're about it, why don't you call Sam, and let him know, whatever, tell him I just want to talk to him."

Because Dean asked I send him East and South, driving into the light of the early morning, trying to get ahead of a band of Angles; believing in the help of a demon.

I know that Dean doesn't only want to talk to Sam, the plan isn't only to talk to Sam; he says to Cas he wants Sam to come home, he is going to ask Sam to come home; I'm still not convinced Dean won't hurt him. I'm half unsure about taking Dean right to him, which I believe I can, on the say-so from somewhat trust-worthy demons. He tosses me a phone rather casually, Dean seems to have taken to trusting me, I can't say that makes me trust him; I would rather stick with trust no one, not even Sam, or maybe trust Sam. "Sammy?" Dean glares at me, he hates it when I call Sam that. "No I'm not alone." "Dean and Cas are in the car with me." "Improvement from the Impala by the way, Dean's tastes are maturing."

Sam laughs, but ends up coughing, then adds: 'I won't talk unless we talk alone.' I raise my eyebrows in question to Dean.

Dean looks at me in the rear view, then shakes his head. "No can do Crowley."

But, oh yes, I can do Dean. The foolish boy and his little pet trust me, our crazy Cas took off my chains, and I snap my fingers, and "Bye-bye gentlemen…" I'm gone.

Dean doesn't look distressed, he smiles a tiny smile at me: "I planted a tracking device on him, he just led us straight to Sam."

Deserted House on the Wrong side of suburbia:

I pull over too tired to go on. This place has been vacant long enough that there is no electric or gas, but there is still water; and I need some. I haven't felt this bad before this morning, and I don't think this is normal – not that there is a normal for any of this. Anna was pitching a fit yesterday, and now she is virtually still, but when she does kick I'm in pain. Damn, so much pain. I turn on the GPS on my phone, and call Garth again, leave him a message asking him to track my number - I didn't even check the address we're at - and ask him to come and find me, and warning him about what he might, probably will, find. But don't call Dean. Dean might try to take Anna from me to save me at the last moment, and she is never going to know what it means to be alone, wherever she goes I go. But Dean was right when he was talking to Cas outside the church, it seems so long ago, I do need help with everything. And I need to sit down, and I need to coax myself to eat again, but I can't do it. I lay down on the floor rest my head on duffel, I shouldn't go to sleep. I know I shouldn't go to sleep.

"Crowley?" What the fuck? Am I dead? Great, I went to hell again, I probably deserve it anyhow, maybe Lucifer never lost his grip on me; probably all that demon blood I still have in my veins. Please don't let me have brought Anna with. I close my arms around my little belly bump—so I went to hell as is, certainly explain why I feel like this; now how do I get Anna out of here? When did Crowley managed to take over hell again? And why isn't he with Dean? "Crowley?" I don't think I've ever seen him look worried before. "It's not fair, Anna doesn't deserve to be in hell."

"Daft as ever, my darling Boy-King." I rest a hand on his forehead head and he is cold. Sam whispers something about hell again, and while we are trapped in outer-suburbia I doubt this is what he means. He wants Anna out of hell? This isn't just half-asleep, this is horribly, though not unexpectedly, ill. Sam whispers something about Dean. Of course I'm calling your brother you idiot Winchester; how did their parents conceive two boys so stupid? I briefly wish I was an Angel and could heal him; but I have my standards, and Angels are well below them. Sam is grabbing at me as though he is drowning, I should enjoy this, a Winchester entirely at my mercy. I should call someone to can actually help him. I should have done something about getting to Sam earlier. I search though Sam' pockets, find his phone, and call Dean.

In the Bugatti:

The phone rings and I recognize Sam's number. Thank god, fucking thank god he decided to call. Except that it's Crowley, and the first things that Crowley does is spit out a street address, and call me 'a viscous, selfish, idiot' which is rich coming from a Demon. "Where's Sam?" What the hell has Crowley done to Sam? And Crowley tells exactly how Sam is, and points out again that he didn't do anything to Sam, it would be my fault that Sam is not only close to death, but thinks that he is going to hell, thinks he is in hell; and is trying to save Anna? But Crowley sounds genuinely scared, is that bastard in love with Sam? Is that even possible? Fuck I must be confused, are we walking into a trap? I'll take the bait, Crowley always knows I will, when the bait is Sam. Yeah, a dying Sam will have me walking into hell, everyone knows that. I put my foot into it, those Italians certainly knew how to make a machine.

"Dean? Dean?" I rest my hand over the print on his shoulder, "Dean." He closes his eyes while travelling at speed…I definitely dislike that, reminds me of my recently acquired mortality. "You're not doing anyone any favors by not talking." As his grip tightens on the steering wheel; my hand tightens on the mark on his shoulder, I won't allow him to forget that in some ways he is already mine. "This isn't all on you Dean, some of it is on me. I let the Angels fall, without that Ezekiel would not have been here, he wouldn't have been seeking a vessel, would not have been driven to create Nephilim, none of this would have happened to Sam."

Yeah, Cas can say that, but this is fate. There is nothing we can do to stop it, me and Sam. No matter what I do I nearly kill Sam, first the trials, then stopping the trials, and now this… he may not have Lucifer in him, or me Michael, but his fate is to be destroyed by me, and it just won't leave him. Now this…the new anti-christ, Sam will protect her beyond his life; Sam the failed boy-king of hell, father-mother of the anti-christ; Sam, always standing in the way of fate, nursing evil. I hit both my hands hard on the wheel and the fine-tuned steering allows the car to veer a little. A baby can't be evil, what the hell is wrong with me? Cas pulled me out of hell, but it didn't do a damn thing, left me to my fucking fate, left me here trying to save my family.

I feel Cas' hand there, not the print but his hand, when I am absolutely alone. I doubt I will ever have the courage to tell him. I imagine, maybe remember, Cas grabbing onto me hell resurrecting me. I have to remind myself he was under orders, only god's command and love would make one voluntarily go to hell. When it's too hard to go on, when Sam, when Lisa's and my unborn baby, when Dad, when Bobby, when even Castiel himself, when my family can't be saved I wish it was love not the word of god that had brought Cas. I school my face. I want to believe that in some way the whole damn thing, me and Cas, his hand on my shoulder was meant to be…but it feels like he was meant to save me at the expense of Sam.

"Dean?" He is brooding and travelling fast, in a vehicle that is not altogether familiar to him. I tighten my hand on his shoulder. "Crowley is taking us directly to Sam?" I cock my head involuntarily; it's a left over Angel thing. Dean doesn't contradict me, he flexes his grip on the wheal. We are apparently using the tracking device, apparently no point in trusting Crowley. I have to agree with Dean. And Crowley called on Sam's phone, so for better or worse we know that Crowley is, or has been, with him. "What did he say Dean?" Dean looks out the driver's side window.

"He called me an ass."

"What did he say about Sam?"

"Just to come."

I can tell Dean is lying, I not a remaining Angel thing, it's just me and Dean. "Dean, what did he say about Sam?" Dean shakes his head, and shifts his shoulder to shrug me off. I keep my hand on that print, Dean Winchester is, weather he knows it or not, mine. "Is Sam dying?" This has always been a possibility, one that has worried me most about not knowing the whereabouts of Sam. Now Dean blinks away tears, he knows we may finally have destroyed Sam. "You're not helping Sam by not telling me." Dean still doesn't look at me, and barely at the road; we listen to the purr of a perfect machine. If my father had been Italian he would have made these machines, not man.

Dean has a short, sharp phone conversation with Crowley. And then nothing. I think it would help Dean if he told me.

"Why the hell would it help to tell you Cas? It's not like you're going to do anything." I flinch back from the anger in Dean's voice, it is directed at me, it hurts, I don't believe he would intentionally hurt me, but it hurts. It hurts that he's right, I'm human, breakable, mortal, lost, I can't do anything for Sam. All I can do for Dean is listen; listening to Dean isn't an Angel thing, it's an 'I love Dean thing'. I wait. "Crowley called because he thought Sam was bleeding internally. Crowley is acting freaked out. Demons don't save lives. I don't trust him with Sam." I wait quietly for Dean to continue. "And Sammy wouldn't let him call anyone except me, and Sam is right as few people as possible should know where he is, because the moment Sam is anything except hidden the Angels and Abbadon's demons come for him. If they come then for sure we lose them both, or worse." By worse I know he means Sam and Anna could be taken who knows where by the Angels, or to hell by Demons. Dean chews his bottom lip briefly, "If we get there on-time I can give Sam blood, I don't know if it would be enough, but we're a match." Dean tries to coax more speed out of car, and he can, because when Dean Winchester puts his soul into it he always can.

Cas turns eyes on me. "We'll get to him Dean." Crap, Cas isn't an Angel anymore, he can't promise me we'll save him, can't just take us there and save Sam. "Sam will always forgive you, you should forgive him." Dean swallows, he knows exactly what I mean. "When he confessed during the trials he confessed how he had let you down Dean. He is the person you love the most," saying that causes a literal twisting pain in my chest, it is the hardest thing to be human. "but, after Anna, you are also the most loved to him, if he is to be at peace when he goes you need to forgive him. He came back to be with you," that cold pain again, "give him this and let him go with his Anna if that's what he needs."

"I'll save him." Dean mutters between gritted teeth. "And none of what you said means that you aren't as important to me, he's my brother, you're my…" Dean stops, he doesn't know what I am to him. I don't know what I am to him. If there are human words for this I can't find them, or the truth might be I'm afraid of it, I am human, I can chose to not look too closely—it may be too late though, I believe I already love Dean.

I stop talking because neither he or I dare say what feel towards him. I'm not brave enough to tell Cas that, against my better judgment, my judgment doesn't appear to be that good anyway, I can't tell Cas that I love him. I don't tell Cas I love him. I look straight ahead, there is no sign of either rain or of the clouds lifting.

"I need you Dean." I don't know how to be human 'I need you Dean.' I look straight ahead, the day is cloudy and the roads Dean has chosen are not well travelled, as is so often his decision. "This may not be the right time to tell you, but we may face a host of Angels today, and I wanted that said, before…" I don't want to die, when I die I return to a deserted heaven, devastated by my hubris and my stupidity. I don't want to die, because then I will be without Dean, and I will worry about Dean without me.

Outer Rings of Hell, Conference Room 13b

"You have a low-jack on Garth's car?" Hopefully some tech-savvy Demon will know what that is; sound useful, we may want more. "He's moving towards Kansas?" Apparently Garth had talked to Dean and immediately to Sam, which had never happened before. "Doesn't appear to be going to the bunker?" "You know exactly where the bunker is?" "You couldn't find a spell to break the bunker's wards?" Brute force may have to do if it comes to that. "Yes, when we find them I will give you Crowley. Has a demon ever broken a deal?"

Bugatti:

Third call from Crowley. "He can't feel the baby moving and neither can you?" I don't care what Sam or Crowley think, Sammy needs to get to the hospital. "If Anna is gone Sam is going with her unless he gets is help now." Raising my voice at Crowley has never helped, but I do it anyhow.

Deserted house in the outer rings of suburbia:

"Sam! Sammy! Dammit Sam! Stay with me!" I leave the line with Dean open because Sam needs Dean's help. For Sam it's always been Dean, was always Dean, now it's always going to be Anna. What about Crowley Sam? A feel or two for me? "Dean, I can give him my blood. He's Sam Winchester the Boy-King, demon blood will save him." Dean is quiet. "God dammit Squirrel, we are losing Moose, say something!"

Bugatti:

A panicked Crowley should be a good Crowley, but it is frightening. He scared shitless, he really wants to be told what to do. "Giving Sam your blood would save him, but…"

Cas grabs the phone from me: "Giving Sam blood from the King of Hell would make Sam the Boy-King again, would make Anna the Anti-Christ, it would destroy everything we have all worked for Crowley. It would certainly destroy Sam."

I grip her wheel (her speed is all we have on our side) and to try to forget how we've found ourselves here. I try for Cas' sake, Sammy's sake if he can hear, to keep my voice even: "Cas, tell Crowley to not even let Sam drink it, Sam went to hell to save the world, there is no question he would do anything he could even it is for only the smallest chance of saving Anna. Tell Crowley to rest his head on Sam's belly and see if he can her Anna's heart, if the there is anything tell him to wait don't call anyone, tell him to tell Sammy we are coming."