Sam glanced at his watch. It was 2:30 a.m. He let out an exhausted sigh and dropped into a hard plastic chair pushed against the wall of the hallway outside the maternity ward. Only minutes ago, he had held a tiny person in his arm as he sat beside his wife. His tiny person, a little boy they called Aeden, Gaelic for "born of fire". Mealla was sleeping now, and Sam was wishing he could get some sleep himself, but-

"I told ya so. Didn't I tell you so?"

Sam jumped and looked up. His eyelids flickered and his blurred vision sharpened. "Wh-what?"

A cheerful laugh. "I said so, didn't I. I told you you were gonna have a baby."

"Gabriel." The word came out exhausted and impatient. Sam was just too damn tired to express the utter incredulity he felt that the angel was alive, and making contact after so many years of silence.

"Heya, Sammy boy." The archangel dropped into the plastic seat next to Sam and patted him on the shoulder. "Long night?"

Sam rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, you could say that."

Gabriel laughed again. "Just the first of many, buddy boy. Welcome to fatherhood. And you've got even more on your plate."

"What's that supposed to mean."

Gabriel shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I mean I didn't come to tell you a child of God would be born to you or anything."

"Wait," said Sam, invigorated by indignance. "That's my son, not any child of God. You stay the hell away from my family."

"Hey, hey, hey," Gabriel held his hands up, "I'm not touching them, I'm just saying, this child was meant to be born. He's got a greater purpose in this world, Sam." He punched Sam lightly on the arm. "Kinda like you and Dean. Maybe metaphysical purpose runs in the family. Whaddya think?"

"No." Sam stood up. "He's not going to be like me. You leave him alone."

"I told you," said Gabriel. "It has nothing to do with me. And listen, this kid's destiny is quite a bit different from yours and Dean's. He's not so much destroying the world as…mmm, saving it."

"Saving it?" repeated Sam. "Saving it from what? The angels are gone, the demons have been quiet…"

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at Sam. "There's always something the save you stupid humans from. Your son is the next Savior. You should have called him Jesus 2.0."

Sam ran his hands over his face as though trying to iron it flat. "Is it too much to ask for a normal life? I just want them to be safe and happy."

"They will be," Gabriel assured him, in a tone more earnest than Sam had ever heard. "For ten long years, you guys will be just fine. Then he'll have some work to do."

"What work, what are you talking about?"

"This is the child of a Winchester and an O'Leary," said Gabriel. "He's freakin' special, dude. We've got a lot of use for a kid like that."

"What does Mealla's family have to do with any of it."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "You think your bloodline was the only one engineered as a catalyst? We had contingency plans, we're not stupid. I mean you and your brother weren't exactly the poster children for accountability. But that doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that your son is ready in ten years."

"Ready for what!" Sam cried, but the seat beside him was empty.