"Let me see him," she panted, a thin layer of sweat covering her. She was tired, her body wrecked, her head sore. But she could hear him, small and warbly but very vocal. Smiling with watery eyes, John carried the little wrapped bundle over to the bed. He too was exhausted; 32 hours in delivery was no joke. Crouching down, he gently slid the blanket wrapped bundle into his wifes' arms. Smiling and laughing she looked down at the crying baby. After a moment of cooing, he calmed and the cries subsided.

"Hello Sammy," she said in a soft voice, looking down at her son. He was still red and wrinkly, a smattering of curly brown hair on his head. Her heart, already full, seemed to overflow with the addition of this new little man.

"Daddy?" another little boy walked in holding the hand of a smiling nurse. He was about four years old with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. He was looking curiously at the bed where his father sat next to his mother holding this little thing.

"There's my boy," John said in a deep voice and Deans' face split into a big smile as he ran towards his fathers out stretched arms. John pulled him onto his lap as Dean shifted to look at the little bundle his mother was holding.

"Hey big brother. This is Sammy," his mom said smiling as she ran her hand over her eldest sons soft hair. Dean looked hard down at the little boy. He studied the face carefully for a few seconds before smiling.

"Hi Sammy. I'm Dean. I'm your big brother and it's my job to take care of you," Dean smiled, never taking his eyes off his new brother. John smiled big, listening to the words he told his son over the last few months. He rubbed his shoulder proudly, looking down on his boys.

In another place, in another plane there was another set of sad eyes watching the family. Determined to stay as far away from her as he could, Michael had tried not to watch Dean grow up. But every now and again he had seen a birthday party, a trip to the park, or bruised knee. And today was not a day to be missed. It was one of the happiest days in Mary's life, the day her family was complete. All her boys.

He had no pain left to spare - or so he thought. Angels don't dream but for years she had danced through his subconscious. Michael had longed for her. Lamented her destiny. But this was almost too much. Just as he had reacted on instinct at that garage sale all those years ago, he felt the pull...

Save her. Intervene. Change the story. Save her. He could do it. He could swoop in and put a stop to the destruction that was going to rip her life apart in six short months. Then a rueful smile spread across his lips. Yes, he could save her. But he would still not have her. Because to save her would be to keep her in her dream, with her family. Not with him. She still didn't even know that he existed.

"Hey there big bro," a forgotten familiar voice crept from the shadows to his right. He turned his head slowly and strolling to him was his little brother Gabriel. It had been centuries since he had seen his brother, ever since he fled heaven and the responsibility that their father had left them. But Michael didn't blame Gabriel. He would run if he could. Still, he wasn't sure how he felt to see him approaching.

"Gabriel, it has been a long time. A very long time," Michael put emphasis on the last few words. His brother didn't miss the hint and smiled.

"I know. I should have called, should have written. What can I say?" and he shrugged apologetically. Michael smiled, he had missed Gabriels' humor.

"She looks happy," Gabriel said, sharing the tunnel of vision his brother was using to look down on the Winchesters. His brother smirked.

"Yes, she does," and he scattered his hand through the cloud to dispel the vision as he turned toward his brother. "What are you doing here Gabriel?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," Gabriel began.

"Six hundred years, wars and worse. But today you want to talk?" Michael said sharply. The smile slid off Gabriel's face.

"Michael - I'm not one of your fawning fledglings. I'm not Raphael, too consumed with my own reflection to see beyond it. It's me..." Gabriel said slowly, Michael stared hard at his little brother.

"Gabriel, I have no idea..." Michael started defensively. Gabriel spun around slowly, twirling his hands casually. An opaque sphere bloomed around them; guarding them from the eyes and ears of heaven. The defensive measure stopped the flow of Michael's words.

"I know, Michael," he said firmly.

"I have no idea..." his brother began again, avoiding his brothers eyes.

"Michael."

"What, Gabriel, what?!" he was loosing his temper. Michael stood and started pacing around the rock he had been seated on. "What do you want me to say? That I love her? Fine. I love her. I love Mary Winchester. I have loved her for years now. I can't stop thinking about her. I see her everywhere. I feel her joy and her sorrow as keenly as my own. I can't block her out anymore. She is every where all the time no matter how far I run and I can't... I can't..." and Michael broke. He stopped pacing and stood, eyes downcast in front of his brother.

Gabriel hurt for his brother. He wanted more than anything to make this right. To help his brother. But it was not his place. It was not the role for any of them. To heal his brothers hurting heart would mean...

"Besides, she would never love me. Not really. I would never be her choice," his words were soft and broken but the pieces fell into place for Gabriel.

That is why his brother didn't intervene. He would sit in heaven and watch the phases of her life unfold, cloaked in tragedy and heartache. Even if he saved her, pulled her life out of the line of fire, her heart belonged to someone else.

And another light flickered in Gabriels' mind. How his brother had grown... There had been a time when Michael would lay waste to whole villages to get what he wanted. He could easily extinguish the life of John Winchester, come in and be Mary's everything. But it would hurt her. And he didn't want to be the reason she hurt - she would hurt enough on her own. He didn't want to be the cause of any of her pain.

Gabriel didn't know what to say. Was there anything that he could say to help? So they stood there for a long time, Michael finding small solace in relief of sharing his deepest, most desperate heartache. Gabriel, hurting along with his brother, wishing he could do something...