Sam now regretted any and every time he had thought ill of or made fun of an elderly person. Rebecca Montgomery had lived a long life and for some reason, as her soul had slipped away Sam's had slipped in. She was a tiny old woman and Sam, who had thought that not much could be worse than the adolescent body he'd been in before, found that doing anything in Rebecca's body was impossible.

She hobbled painfully, eighty nine years, thirteen children and nearly topping a hundred grandchildren and well exceeding that number in great-grand children her body had exceeded its abilities. Sam intended to push it far beyond them. With her nappy hair threaded with grey and white pulled back in a tight bun, Sam made his way toward Missouri with every intent of returning to Chitaqua.

Emma was crying, arms wrapped around herself and barely breathing through harsh heavy sobs. Dean felt hollow and thin, head buzzing and feeling as if the slightest wind would knock him over. He had a job though, despite its apparent triviality it was one of his greatest jobs; it was to mourn. He stepped forward and pulled Emma into his arms. She'd lost her husband here, before that one of her children, and now Sam. She allowed him to hug her and after a few moments clung to him for comfort. Dean rested his chin on her head and fought the lump in his throat.

Bear let out a soft whine and nuzzled at Dean and Emma, asking where Sam was.

The children in the background, the ones that Emma cared for, just looked confused and somber, staring at the familiar scene of sorrow.

"What the hell are you doing Cas?"

Dean was stepping into their cabin and he had expected to find either an empty cabin or a Castiel moping about ever since that kid Sam's death.

Cas looked terribly unimpressed by Dean's low, threatening, growl of a question and continued smoking the marijuana which had been gifted to him by Kroger, an old 70's generation refugee who grew the plant on his little plot of land. Dean allowed the growing mainly because there wasn't really any way to get rid of it without wasting a lot of time and resources.

"Are you experiencing issues with your occipital lobe, or are you merely ignorant to one of the most common methods of drug intake?" Cas quipped back.

"It was a rhetorical question for 'you're a fucking dumb ass', you smoke that shit somewhere other than where I sleep," Dean threw his weapons onto the table and began the laborious task which was cleaning them.

"As if alcohol is any less of an inhibitor, hypocrisy seems to be the main attribute of our great and glorious leader, Dean Winchester," Cas was in a bad mood, and the sarcasm dripped plentifully from his tone.

"Says the goddamn angel smoking pot," Dean shot back.

Things hadn't been so great between the two. Dean's people skills were at an all time low, and Cas', whose skills had been nonexistent in the first place, were worse.

"You know, you've been a real dick ever since that kid died, and yeah, maybe he was your friend, but I'm sorry to say, people die and it doesn't give you the right to act like a douchebag," Dean had paused in his work and was twisted around in the chair, looking in anger at Cas.

"I'm sorry if my mourning is disrupting your life," Cas' tone conflicted with his words, he wasn't sorry in the least.

"Oh shut up asshole, everyone's lost someone here," Dean turned back around and went back to cleaning the weapons.

Cas glared for a few moments, fingers expertly wrapping a joint.

"It's not like you appreciated them when you had them," Cas mumbled under his breath.

Dean froze, shoulders tensing.

"Excuse me?"

Cas cocked his head, moving the joint away from his mouth.

"Your brother loved you," Cas spat out, voice low with a tinge of jealousy.

Dean stood abruptly and left the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. Left alone, Cas did not feel satisfied in his apparent victory, only terribly empty. He took a long drag of the joint and found it did little to help.

Sam had made it a fair way, he'd walked eighty miles over a course of so many days before finding a running car. He'd driven it till it ran out of gas, which left him just north of Memphis. Missouri wasn't far, but from then on his progress came to a nearly grinding halt. With no viable vehicle, Sam hobbled only so far each day. Unable to physically care for himself at the level as he had before, he fell sick. It was at least in town, where someone with the thought of the apocalypse in mind had an amazing food storage.

Someone however came into the house. Delirious with fever, Sam was unsure if they were friend or foe.

A deranged person stepped in, long hair and broken nails. They smelled of rotting blood. Sam scrambled in his old body for the gun he'd found. It was too late. The croat jumped on him, biting into wrinkled skin and tearing. Sam screamed, the pain of being eaten alive horrible. The thing torn into Sam's abdomen, it's head came up, small intestine hanging grotesquely from its mouth. Sam was pawing for the gun, fevered, in pain, knowing this weak old body was dying. He found the handle much too late and brought it forward, shooting the croat in the head.

It fell, sliding off the bed. Sam panted, gasping for breath. The gun slipped from the gnarled, ebony fingers, worn from years of hard work. Sam blinked, feeling himself slipping away. He wondered, absently, if he'd wake up someone else.

"Fuck you Winchester!"

Dean tried following the pissed off woman out the door of the cabin, still pulling on his t-shirt. A few people looked up, they looked away soon enough though. Dean had a bit of a habit with women and he had lost all his charm when it came to talking the right way to a girl. Things slipped out that were harsh and bitter, and often times that was the last thing a woman who had gone through the apocalypse wanted to hear while having sex, including both pre- and post coital.

"Winnona!" Dean shouted.

She didn't turn around, flipping him the bird. Dean let out a huff, running a hand over his face. Turning on his heel he headed back to the cabin. The reason for the fight had been Castiel's presence in the cabin. The two had been in the middle of the act when Castiel had opened the door came in and started doing some mundane task. Winnona had let out a gasp, protested it and Dean had made a callous remark, Castiel's snarking follow up didn't really help.

Dean slammed the cabin door shut.

"Can you at least wait until I'm done having sex to come in, save me from cuddling not coming!" Dean shouted at Cas.

Castiel looked smugly over at Dean, completely unapologetic.

"Fuck somewhere other than our cabin then, I don't have my orgies here," Castiel said primly, picking at his fingernails.

Dean just shot a glare at him.

"We're going on a run, you're coming with us," Dean said.

Castiel raised a brow. He hadn't gone on a run for a while now.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say someone is in a mood," Castiel sing-songed.

"Yeah, well, next time don't interrupt me," Dean quipped back.

Sam woke up feeling slightly ill and strangely weak. He blinked his eyes open and realized that he was being cradled in huge arms.

"Amy! He's-he's-"

"Oh My God!"

Sam felt himself pulled violently from the arms and pressed up against a woman's chest. Tears were falling into his hair and he realized that this time he'd come back as a child.

"Baby! Johnny, baby, you're alright!" The woman was sobbing and her hold was slightly painful.

Sam pushed at her and she pulled away. Sam saw her clearly for the first time. A soft, heart shaped Latina face with warm brown eyes. Standing at her shoulder was a tall broad man, he had a thick layer of facial hair and curly dark brown hair.

"Miguel, our baby, he's okay," Amy kept crying.

Miguel circled them, holding them close. Sam glanced down at his body and guessed that his age was probably about four or five.

"I-I thought, his body was stiff," Amy wrapped Sam as close as she could.

"We gotta keep moving mi alma, we've still got a ways to go if we're going to make it to that camp."

Long, thick dark brown hair was obstructing Sam's view, so all he could do was listen.

"Of course, we can keep going," Amy replied, chest rumbling and vibrating against Sam.

Whoever this couple were they kept walking and Sam, exhausted as he was, fell asleep to the rhythmic walk of the woman.

Sam woke up to jostling. Amy was running, breath coming out in pants. Sam could feel her heart pounding and he huddled closer as fear welled up in him. She jerked to a halt, spinning on her heel and Sam poked his head up.

"Miguel!" Her scream was heart wrenching.

A small band of croats were chasing them and they had overtaken Miguel, Sam closed his eyes at the sight of Miguel's arm being torn into, the croats jumping on him with bloodthirsty intent. Amy turned, running even faster. Sam clung to her. A few short, heart stopping minutes passed, the croats taking up the chase once again. Sam felt the woman faltering. A patch of particularly uneven ground was her downfall. She fell, sprawling against the ground. Sam hit the ground hard and rolled. He still felt so weak. As far as he could guess, the little boy, Johnny, had been ill and passed. Sam had slipped in but the body was still struggling to recover.

Amy screamed in fear as the croats quickly approached. Scooping Sam up she lifted him up, moving over to a tree. She raised him above her head.

"Grab on baby, grab onto the branch, mama will be there in just a second, don't be scared," Amy's voice was breathless and desperate.

Sam grabbed the branch and pulled himself up, grateful that he could just barely grasp the lowest branch. It was a slim branch and bent under his weight. He barely managed to lift himself up, reaching up to touch the next closest branch. This one was pretty far and he had to jump. His fingers enclosed around it and with shaking limbs he lifted himself up.

Looking down he saw Amy staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"It's okay baby, I'm coming, give mama a moment," it was a lie. The croats were almost there and the only branch she could reach would never hold her weight.

Sam looked away as the croats reached her. The screams of pain were awful and Sam clenched his eyes shut, huddling against the tree. When Amy was dead and at least partially devoured the croats began trying to get at Sam, jumping up, scraping at the tree.

"What're we doing out here?" Castiel asked, unamused by the maple forest they were now driving through.

"We need to check the perimeter. Camp stays safe this way and we don't get any unpleasant surprises."

Cas didn't reply, turning his head to stare out at the scene passing them by. The air was warm from the late summer heat. The sounds of grunting and high pitched ululations took their attention. Croats. Dean slowed the vehicle down to a stop and motioned to Cas. The two got out and began to approach the noise. They came upon a group of five croats surrounding a tree. There was a mangled body on the ground, but the croats appeared as if they were trying to get at something in the tree. Stepping closer they tried to see what it was.

When they did, Cas let out a gasp. A little boy was huddled in the branches. Immediately Dean had his gun out. With quick and careful aim he took five quick pot shots, each straight and true. The croats dropped without a sound. Moving forward with Cas close on his heels Dean headed towards the tree.

"Kid?" Dean said, raising his voice.

The boy lifted his head and looked down at them with big brown eyes.

"Sam," Cas whispered out.

Dean looked sharply at Cas and then back at the boy.

"It's okay, alright, we've gotcha," Dean reassured.

Dean, the taller of the two, raised his arms for the boy. Hesitantly the boy extended a thin leg, putting his weight on the lowest branch. He put more weight on it and it snapped, sending him tumbling down. Dean caught him.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," Dean said soothingly, cradling the trembling child close.

Those big dark brown eyes stared up at him and Dean tried to muster a passing smile. It was more of a grimace and the kid's stare stayed. Dean felt uncomfortable under it and tried to hand the kid over to Castiel. The boy clung to him though.

Dean glanced down at the mutilated corpse and saw that it had once been a woman.

Cas moved forward, hands hesitant as he reached out for the boy. He press a gentle hand to the boy's head and ran his fingers through the soft dark brown curls.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly.

The boy gave a nod. Dean watched the interaction, surprised by the gentleness of his friend.

"Let's get back to camp," Dean said.

They started their way back to the jeep. When they got there, Dean passed the boy over to Castiel who carefully took him. The ride back was quiet, the boy cuddled up to Castiel.

"So, uh, what's your name kid?" Dean asked.

"His name is Sam," Cas replied.

Dean raised a brow. Castiel sounded way too serious. The boy however didn't contend it. Though to be honest the kid might be too traumatized to ever speak again.

Once they got back to camp, Castiel refused to give up his hold of the boy. He also insisted that Sam would stay in their cabin with them. When all three got in the cabin Dean stood awkwardly.

"Uh-I'll get something for the kid to eat," he volunteered, stepping out.

As soon as he was gone, Castiel was looking at Sam.

"How?" That was his first question.

Sam shrugged one tiny shoulder.

"I don't know, I didn't wake up like this though, I was in a different body, an old woman."

Castiel gave a nod.

"This is not within the power of anything I know that resides on Earth aside from, well-"

"Lucifer," Sam finished.

Castiel gave a serious nod.

"Do you think?" Sam asked, looking terrified.

Cas shook his head.

"I do not know."

It was silent for a moment.

"I have missed you greatly friend," Cas said, pulling Sam into a tight hug.

Sam hugged him back, feeling inordinately small. He smelled something unpleasantly familiar and his nose wrinkled.

"Cas, have you been smoking pot?" He asked.

Cas looked slightly ashamed, but didn't say anything. Sam just looked at him with woeful, remonstrative eyes.

The cabin door opened and Dean was back, soup in hand.

Dean hadn't cared about anything deeply in a long time. This kid though, a week into staying in their cabin and Dean found the cuteness in such close proximity impossible to withstand. It sounded absurd, but this little kid, Sam as Castiel had dubbed him, was quiet and sweet. The first night Castiel had taken care of him. Same as the second night, but the third Cas started to deal with withdrawals, apparently randomly deciding to go cold turkey. He had an idea that it was because of the kid. Sam got sick too, a low grade fever causing him to need help with everything.

So the third night Dean had taken up the baton. Carefully bathing the child, feeding him, taking care of him. It reminded him of simpler times with his Sam. The stab of emotion hurt.

"Dean," the little voice intoned.

"Yeah kid," Dean replied, looking up from the gun he was cleaning.

The boy was on Castiel's bed, tucked in. The angel himself was out walking, Dean wondered if he was really just getting drugs from Kroger.

"You're not very happy."

Dean looked up, brow crooked. That seemed a strange question. He kept cleaning again, eyes on the gun.

"Well, Sam, not many people are," Dean regretted the words a little, no need to throw bitter wisdom at a little kid.

There was a beat of silence and Dean looked up. Those sorrowful eyes were peering at him.

"I'm sorry."

The words made Dean choke with emotion, it brought to mind his own brother's soulful and sad eyes as he apologized for starting the apocalypse. Dean had never forgiven him and Sam had said yes. Maybe if he'd accepted the apology, maybe if he'd hugged his depressed, struggling little brother instead of ignoring him and spitting angry words at him, none of this would have ever happened, maybe Sam would still be with him. It was too easy to blame himself, forgetting all the pain he'd been in and all the wrong Sam had done. At this moment though, he could forget his anger and mourn.

"Me too, kid, me too," Dean ground his teeth and quickly wiped a hand across his face, trying to collect his emotion.

In the midst of him rallying himself, a small hand came to rest on his shoulder. Sam was there, tiny scrawny little boy standing on the bed next to Dean and looking ever so earnest. Dean smiled ruefully.

Sam leaned forward and wrapped his little arms around Dean.

"It'll be okay," the boy said, so plainly and surely that Dean felt an unwanted sob build up in his chest.

He hadn't cried for a very long time. Dean wrapped his arms around the small body and held it close, wishing he could protect the kid, keep him from the horrors he'd already experienced. Tears slipped out and Dean ignored them for now.

"Okay," Dean said, patting the kid's back, "okay."

"Cas! C'mon!"

Sam was tugging rather ineffectually at Castiel's hand to get him to move faster. Bear had recognized Sam and immediately became his shadow, following the little boy around every where. Bear had found a female friend at some point, a chocolate lab with a shabby coat that soon shined through Sam's efforts. Bear was gonna be a daddy.

"We're gonna miss it!" Sam said, tugging harder.

"I do not believe that the messy process of birth by a lesser animal is in anyway equivalent to the use of pot."

Sam had convinced Castiel to quit, it had taken quite some conniving on Sam's part and a lot of grumpiness on Castiel's. Sam had enlisted both Bear's and Dean's help in getting the angel sober.

"You're right," Sam said, looking up at Cas with a mischievous shine in his eyes, "it's better!"

Cas snorted, shaking his head.

"Lead the way then, Samuel," he said, acquiescing.

They headed over to cabin K, where behind it the chocolate lab, named Candy by Dean, was on her side panting. Marcie, the self-proclaimed cook of the camp, and well greeted at the calling by the other campers, was kneeling down next to the dog, petting her fur to calm her.

"Hey lemon drop, came to see Candy?" Marcie greeted, smiling at Sam and running a hand through his soft, baby curls.

Sam smiled and gave a nod.

They watched as Candy struggled through the labors of birth, putting out three pups, all fat and healthy. Marcie smiled, wrapping the pups up after they had fed.

"We'll get 'em inside, along with poor ol' Candy here."

Sam gave a nod, gently brushing his fingers against the top of the puppy's head which Marcie held out to him. The sound of a horn had all three looking up.

"Looks like the party's back," Marcie said.

Sam and Castiel then made their ways toward the front of the camp. Indeed they were back, a few people missing, most everyone bloody. Dean's face was thunderous, jaw clenched and blood dripping from an injury on his arm. He helped one of the injured from the jeep and passed them off to one of the campers. Castiel stooped to pick Sam up so they could move quickly.

The two met Dean at the front of the cabin.

"What happened?" Castiel asked.

Dean shook his head, opening the door and stepping inside. Cas followed, Sam in his arms, and shut the door behind them. Dean was moving about the room, moving about to fix himself up.

"Demons Cas, demons," Dean said.

Cas' eyes widened and he sat on the bed, relinquishing his hold on Sam.

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Dean barked, "Sulfur, black eyes."

Dean wiped his face with a hand and stripped his shirt off, he stopped though, gripping the table edge with both hands.

"They asked about him," Dean said quietly.

Castiel knew what he meant by him.

Dean turned around.

"Why would they be asking where Sam Winchester is if he already said 'yes'?" Dean said in a low voice, eyeing Castiel as if the angel was hiding something.

"And you still assume he said 'yes'?" Castiel asked, meeting Dean's gaze with his own.

"Of course he said 'yes' Cas, it's why the whole world went to hell!"

Dean spared a glance at Sam who flinched at his

"And if he didn't what makes you think I wouldn't hesitate on killing him, because if Lucifer is in the wrong vessel than we have a fighting chance and I'm going to keep it no matter what."

It was very quiet, tears were in Sam's eyes and Castiel reached a hand out. Dean glanced at the kid, guilt filling him. This wasn't anything a kid should be listening to.

"We'll talk about this later," Dean said, continuing to work on cleaning himself up.

Castiel was walking along the perimeter of the cabins, the autumn weather turning the leaves orange and gold, red and brown. They were falling constantly and the smell in the air was crisp and clean. It was pleasant.

Spotting a head of curls seated in a pile of leaves under a tree, Castiel altered his course. Quietly he dropped down next to the figure, mirroring the posture of the child's body by bringing his knees up and looping his arms around them.

"What are you thinking of?" Castiel asked softly.

It was easier to treat Sam as an adult for him, for angels the physical body was so temporary, ever changing and never permanent. Sam would be Sam in any body so long as his soul was what resided within it. Though Castiel had quickly learned that certain human bodies had certain limits and he didn't hesitate to provide aid.

"You know, I think I should tell him," Sam said quietly.

Cas didn't reply at first, staring out at the trees and spiraling colors of leaves. He let out a soft sigh.

"I do not understand humans very well, even now, when I am practically one."

Sam looked over at him, eyes raised in worry and interest.

"I have learned though that anger is used to separate individuals from pain, hurt, fear, somehow, it is a much easier thing to bear, anger that is."

Sam grabbed a leaf and closed his palm around the stem, twirling it.

"Your brother's anger belies his pain and his great sorrow for losing you," Castiel looked over at Sam, blue eyed gaze peering with worry at his friend.

"I-I don't know Cas," Sam said with a shaking voice, "I wanna believe that but-"

Sam let out a huff of breath and dropped the leaf to hug his knees tighter.

"I wanna tell him that I didn't say 'yes', that I stayed strong, but it doesn't matter, because Lucifer still destroyed everything, and that's on me."

"What?"

Both of them turned around at the sudden third party. Dean was standing there, eyes wide. It was dead silent for a few moments.

"Sam?" Dean breathed out, looking warily at Sam.

Sam gave a small nod, barely able to meet his eyes. Anger flashed in Dean's eyes and he strode forward. Sam scrambled to his feet and Cas started to follow but Dean was much quicker. Within moments he had Sam by the arms and had slammed the little body up against the tree.

"Tell me it's you!" Dean screamed, tightening his hold such that Sam let out a yelp of pain.

"You fucking lied to me!"

Cas was tugging at his arm yelling. Dean however was wholly focused on the person in front of him.

"You lied, Sam!" He shook Sam, slamming him into the trunk again.

"Stop it! You're hurting him!" Cas yelled, giving up on pulling at Dean and preparing for a more violent approach.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered out, "I wanted to tell you, I was scared though, I was scared."

Dean came to himself, staring at Sam in disbelief.

"Sammy?" He whispered, green eyes probing, looking for proof that it was Sam under there.

Sam gave a nod. Cas punched Dean, causing him to release his hold on Sam. Dean collapsed on the ground and Castiel grabbed Sam, pulling him away. Dean got up from the surprise hit and was faced with Cas standing protectively in front of Sam.

"I will not let you hurt him Dean Winchester!" Castiel roared, already preparing to set into Dean.

Sam was seated on the ground behind Cas, body trembling with stress.

"Cas, I'm not gonna," Dean said, holding his hands up in surrender, "I'm sorry alright, I'm not gonna."

Sam took that moment to duck past Cas and move over to Dean. Cas stood tensed up, watching Dean kneel down to meet Sam, as though waiting for Dean to make a move.

"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean whispered, looking at the bruises now forming on the tiny arms.

"I'm sorry, too," Sam replied.

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