From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

The daytime was easy. My daylight hours were unending noise, the hours overflowing with Gabriel and Dionysus' mad games, Achilles and Patroclus' unwavering flirting, and Xed's muttered commentary. It was easy to be immersed. Easy to get lost in the sun.

The nights were worse. Achilles and Patroclus slept, always nearly touching, and Gabriel curled up with Bones. Xed and Dionysus, at least, remained awake through the darkest hours, though Dionysus lost some of his antagonism when the moon came up and the camp was always silent.

I thought I was accustomed to sleeping alone, resting alone, since I could no longer will myself to sleep. But it was heavier than it had been when I was only visiting the earth. I had thought it would be easier. I hadn't recognized how desperately I would miss him. It occurred to me that I would never sleep to the rhythm of his heart beat again. That I would be facing the ensuing centuries alone. My body was filled with aches. All of my muscles, my lungs and legs and arms and heart hurt. I thought, sometimes, when night was in its deepest hours, that I had forgotten how to breathe, and I wondered if I could die of it.

There has never been a time I wanted my father more. I closed my eyes against the stars, and I listened to the stirring wind and imagined myself a little thing again, tucked in the Impala, feeling it rumble underneath my tiny body. Dad, driving with one hand, humming to the radio. Sometimes, when it was just the two of us, when Uncle Cas was not trailing along, I didn't have to sit in the back and I could fall asleep under Dad's arm and sometimes he would mumble the words to "Ramble On," and sometimes he would teach me. I wished I could ask him if I was doing the right thing.

'You ran out on the demon king of Hell, of course you did the right thing. About damn time.'

XXXXX

Crowley had not been able to remain sitting. He was stalking behind his desk, a scowl slicing through his features. Dean too had stood up but unlike Crowley he was standing motionless, eyes fixed on Crowley as he paced.

Dean's lips turned downward, "Upset about somethin,' Crowley?"

Crowley narrowed his eyes irately at Dean and stopped moving, but he didn't say anything. He opened his mouth and a rather distressed noise escaped. He closed it swiftly.

Dean leaned back on his heels and smirked, "She ran out on the demon king of Hell. About damn time."

He hissed the last words and Crowley moved forward like he was going to attack, then sat heavily on his chair, draining the last of his scotch. Looking down into his empty glass he murmured, "She'll come back."

Dean had lost interest in Crowley, he was staring at her body again. The blood that had sprayed across her torso was turning brown, congealing in her clothes. Her outfit modeled almost perfectly on Dean's.

He stooped over her again, he was pulling the hair out of her face, it had come out of its neat pony tail in the fight and was sticking to the blood and sweat on her face. He brushed it over with his fingers and started twisting it into a braid at the side of her head. Sam had stopped reading, looking at his brother, concern creasing his brow.

"Dean-"

"You made Baby into a chariot," he whispered to her, fingers steadily working, then, after a pause, "What kind of dad am I to leave you with saving the whole world when you were just a kid." He tied off the braid, "You should have been flunking out of school and begging me to take you on a werewolf hunt."

Dean looked up at Sam, "I gotta go and get her."

Crowley, who had taken the book and started to read aloud again, desperately, had missed the comment. But Sam stared at his brother, breath halted.

XXXXX

From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

Night was dark around our camp, we hadn't lit a fire. I was leaning against Bones, one arm draped around Gabriel. Hearing the dog's thumping heart was, at least, a small comfort.

"Persephone?" Xed asked though the dark.

"Yeah, Xed?"

"Did you love, Hades?"

"I don't really want to talk about Hades, Xed."

"I need to know," he pressed.

"Xed, don't say another damn word." I knew I was being harsh, but I wasn't going to bare my heart on command.

"I don't have to take your orders any more," he whispered, "You're not my queen. You gave that up."

I stared at him, trying to make out his expression, "Fine, keep talking," I said in a low, even tone, "Doesn't mean I'll answer."

"You can't have loved him, all I ever saw you two do was squabble. He let you leave. Don't you think you can do better? Don't you think-"

I cut him off, "Stow whatever crap this is, Xed, if you tell me one more damn thing about how I should feel I'm gonna start throwing punches."

I thought that that would have ended his newfound bravery but it seemed to only egg him on. I wondered if Dionysus had been working at him or if this was 100% him.

"He was a lying coward who didn't follow you into war. He let you get captured. You had to free yourself. He-"

"Shut up, Xed." I hissed at him sharply. I had heard something in the trees. A rustle of wings I had almost forgotten. Chill crept down my spine.

"Perse-"

"Shut. Up." I hissed again, standing. "Dionysus, do you hear that?"

Dionysus too was on his feet, "Yes, Xed, do be quiet."

Cold fear was hardening itself in my bones. I nudged my hellhound into wakefullness and he started, leaping up, Gabriel falling beneath him. A growl rose in his throat.

A rasping voice sliced from the dark, "You? Is it really?"

I turned, the gray, winged thing leering at me, its teeth long and sharp, glittering in the starlight, "The Wee Winchester. Last human on Earth. Wasn't that you? How did you get here?" He moved lightly from foot to foot, his claws cutting ravines in the ground, "Unless you got the time god. Did you? Did you leave my brothers and sisters to starve?"

I had forgotten the way they moved. Forgotten the rasp of their voice and the hiss as they spoke through fangs too big for their mouths. I had nearly forgotten, too, the dizzying whirlpool their soul ripping claws could send you into. I drew my claw dagger, glad I had thought to bring it with. There had been a moment that I had forgotten that these monsters were the reason I was here.

The hellion widened its already stretched mouth into a terrible grin, "I am going to devour the souls of your companions. They will scream as your father did. Then I will devour you. Slowly, I think, so I can savor you."

I was shaking. These older ones, these hellions who could speak and think, I wasn't sure my claw dagger would do the job. Wasn't that what Crowley and I were going to do, make a weapon and hunt them down. How had we gotten so distracted. I glanced down at Gabe, he was awake now, the little human body he was borrowing quaking in Bone's shadow.

"Go, Gabey," I said, not looking at him, eyes transfixed on the hellion, "You go back to hell and you tell Crowley there is a hellion here. Do you hear me. This is the most important thing I've ever asked of you. You must go."

He rose and moved backwards, keeping me between himself and the beast, "You'll come after?" he asked, voice trembling.

"I'll try." He touched my hand and I thought he understood what I had meant by that. I still did not look at him, "Love you, Gabey Baby."

There was a flutter of wings and Gabe had left to the safety of Hell. No longer preoccupied I exploded forward toward the hellion, hoping at the very least that an offensive attack would throw it off.

I had no such luck, it threw up its hands at me, claws gleaming to tear me apart. I swung the dagger, trying to knock away its attack and find purchase on its vulnerable chest. My lessons with Achilles had helped, I was faster on my feet than I had ever been, quicker in seeing an attack before it came. But the hellion could move like lightning.

I twisted backwards and lashed at its hand, the dagger slicing through the skin. It screeched and swung at me. Achilles was awake now, and Patroclus, dancing behind me, I shouted over my shoulder, "Get back, your weapons won't do anything, you'll just get yourselves killed."

Staying back was against Achilles' nature and he charged regardless. His spear flitting through the air like a bird, embedding itself deep in the shoulder of the hellion. It wrenched itself free and flung the spear away, unconcerned with its shoulder's deep wound.

Achilles now stumbled back, unnerved. Dionysus was nowhere to be seen, Xed, never a fighter, hanging back behind me. I swung at the beast again and before I could dance backwards it had grabbed my wrist, claws digging hotly into my flesh. I could feel the pinpricks of damage to my soul and the dizziness came in a brief wave. It wrenched me forward, teeth aimed for my throat.

Swiftly I dropped my dagger into my other hand and stabbed straight out at those teeth, the blade digging deep into the creature's mouth.

It staggered back, wrenching the knife, still stuck in the roof of its mouth, from my hand. Its entire body quaked. It teetered for a moment and fell to its knees, wings flapping vainly, trying to keep itself upright. I stayed back, now unarmed and aware of how much damage those claws could still inflict. It remained on its knees, claws reaching upwards toward its face.

In a burst of motion it clawed the knife from its mouth and screeched, my ears stinging from the volume. It flapped its wings again, launching it to its feet. It leaned forward at the waist, bleeding mouth bared at me, screeching. I careened backwards, hands covering my ears.

It smashed the knife with its foot as it approached. Well and truly unarmed I shouted over my shoulder, my voice quite a bit higher than I was used to, "Achilles, Patroclus, GO. Get out of here."

Achilles was at my back, "I will not abandon you, Persephone."

I snarled, dancing out of the way of the claws, "I am a goddess and that was an order. Get. Gone."

Fear burned like ice in my blood. I knew I was not fast enough to outrun it, I hoped, at least I could buy Achilles and Patroclus enough time to leave. I wanted to open a portal to hell and flee, but I could not risk it getting through. I remembered Crowley's story of the havoc they had wreaked in our time. I wondered what it felt like to have your soul eaten. From the screams I couldn't forget of my father's, it hurt.

Behind me, Patroclus was dragging off a reluctant Achilles. The hellion, no longer able to talk from its mouth wound, hissed and screeched at me. I could only assume it was not sure if I had another of those daggers, but I did not hope that it would remain unsure for long. I hardened my face into a glower. Maybe, I could at least damage its wings enough to keep it from flying, make it easier for Crowley to hunt down.

I rushed it, making use of its uncertainty. I leapt at the last moment, coming over its shoulder in a flip. I was aimed for its wings, hoping I could get ahold of one and use my momentum to break the bones. I stopped in midair, wrenched backwards. Its claws has snapped into my leather cape, pulling my back around. It flicked its wrist, dislodging me from its claws and throwing me against a tree. I felt my ribs crack.

It charged before I could find my feet and I put up my arms, blocking my face and chest. Seconds from ripping me to pieces it stopped, mouth going slack. It slid to its knees, not a foot away from me and tipped forward onto the ground. A black knife protruded from its back and Crowley stood, clad in rather dirty leathers, eyebrow raised.

"Generally," he started in a sarcastic drawl, "When a hunter puts herself in imminent peril, she at least brings a weapon that has the potential of working."

I struggled to push myself up, wrapping a hand around my ribs as they jostled, sparking pain through my torso.

He didn't help me but bent down and drew the knife from the hellion, it was a beautiful thing, black bladed and bejewelled. A little showy for me. I managed to get to my feet and grimaced at him. He rocked back on his heels, cleaning the blade and spat, "Didn't darling Xed stay to help you?"

"He's not much of a fighter, but I'd have thought Aphrodite would have helped out, or are you good enough at putting knives in backs that you could do it all on your own?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, "Is that what your tantrum is about? Aphrodite?"

I bared my teeth at him, "Tantrum? Me? You're the one who screamed at me for having a conversation with my own blacksmith. What were you doing on the couch with Aphrodite?"

He stopped and scowled at me, his lips pressed together, "You..saw that?"

I flared my nostrils, taking that as a confession.

Silence drummed between us. After opening his mouth unsuccessfully a few times he said, "I needed her husband, Hephaestus to make us these blades. I have one for you too."

"Huh?"

"You're as articulate as your father."

If my ribs didn't hurt so much I would have shoved him, "Shut up about my father. What about the blades and what about Aphrodite?"

He explained it in an intolerably patronizing tone, "Hephaestus is a blacksmith on Olympus, dear."

"Fuck off, Crow, I know that."

"Aphrodite was already warm to our cause, because of her dissatisfaction with Zeus. So I used her to convince Hephaestus to make us the blades."

"So what was her price?"

"I was."

I started laughing, "That definitely sounds real."

He scoffed, "You don't believe me! You know there are plenty of gods I could sell the use of you to."

I sneered, "Obviously, gods are whores and I'm a delight."

"What does that make me?"

I looked at him pityingly.

I tried to retain his indignant glower but gave it up, "I believe she wanted a child."

"What the fuck, Crowley?"

He ignored me, "Specifically an heir with a claim to Hell."

"I must have made the coolest place in existence."

"They're after the souls, you grumpy kitten, we are the first to collect human souls and everyone wants a slice."

"So you gave it up to Aphrodite for a couple knives?"

"A knife and a spear, actually." He scowled more deeply at me, "And, may I remind you, a knife and a spear that will save the world. I'm a hero."

"So you're gonna gamble that whatever kid of yours Aphrodite has won't eventually overthrow you?"

He had lost some of his swagger, "There are spells for that sort of thing," he said, waving his hand vaguely, "Hell doesn't need an heir."

I crossed my arms, logically I suppose I understood that getting ahold of hellion-killing weapons was the topmost priority, but a gritty pain was clenching my stomach. I tried to divert the conversation, "So how'd you know Hephaestus could make the blades?"

He shrugged, "Dionysus told me in exchange for our help capturing Zeus."

"Right. So...you and Aphrodite….you...uh…?"

He looked me right in the eye and said briefly, "Yes, we had a deal."

I blinked. I was thrown off, taken entirely by surprise. I stepped toward him, regarding him with curiosity. Because the surety with which he had said it, the way he leaned and the twitch in his eyebrows. Because I knew Crowley and that had been a lie.

I grin spread across my face.

He gave me a sneer-smile only he could really create at my grin and said, "I could have let you watch, didn't know it was your thing."

I laughed, "Jesus, Crow, you're lying."

His ears went pink, "What?" he said, voice jumping.

I cackled, 'When you said you had jumped Aphrodite, you were lying, you did that eyebrow thing you do when you're lying." I smiled mockingly at him, "So what did you do that you would lie to me that you did bang her?"

He straightened his back and looked away, "I am a creature of deception."

My broken ribs hurt as I laughed ruthlessly, and said, mocking his accent, "I'm a creature of deception. Come on, Crow, what did you do?" I was pretty sure it wasn't something murderous because I was certain he would have not only told me but bragged about it, and I wasn't sure if it could be more douchey than sleeping with someone else. The smart money was on something embarrassing, and I was going to have it out of him.

He looked pleadingly at me, "I just saved your life. You owe me."

I laughed.

"Fine!" he barked, "I...couldn't."

XXXXX

Reading the story, Crowley paused, pouring himself another drink, "For the sake of dear squirrel, I'll skip the fun bits."

Sam took back the book as Crowley sipped his drink, a tinge of color flaring on his cheeks. Sam laughed snarkily, "We're not skipping this, Crowley."

XXXXX

From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

"What?" I asked, confused, "What do you mean you couldn't? You couldn't what?"

The pink from his ears was spreading across his cheeks, I had never seen him blush. It was adorable, "I - you know - couldn't" his voice had dropped to a harsh whisper to keep from being overheard.

I laughed so viciously my knees gave out from under me and I tumbled back to the ground, "Shit, Crow, really?" I gasped, trying to get my breath back. My ribs throbbed. He pulled me back to my feet and I grinned sidelong at him.

Defensively he sneered, "She smelled too sweet."

I scoffed, "The goddess of beauty didn't smell good enough for you?"

"She smelled fine." He shot, "just too sweet."

"What would you have preferred she smell like?"

His gaze had turned predatory and he stalked toward me, apparently he had a very short limit of looking embarrassed before he channeled it into anger. He stopped just before me and the scent of burning sulfur enveloped me. He leaned over me whispered, "Sweat," he said smelling down my neck, "and blood," he was kissing my neck, tongue burning, his teeth grazing against my skin. I felt like I should stop him, but I could feel his heart pulsing in his chest and I had missed him so desperately. He kissed up the column of my neck and bit down gently beneath my ear, whispering softly into it, his breath fire on my skin, "and peaches."

I abandoned my reticence and kissed him. Relishing the burn of sulphur.

XXXXX

Crowley was pacing again, uncomfortably this time, muttering under his breath. Sam was laughing, and turned to Dean, hoping that this had lightened him. But Dean didn't seem to have even been listening. He was staring at the girl's body, a dead set look of determination on his face.

He turned to Sam, "We're going to get her."

Not able to ignore it this time, Sam looked at him, "Dean, we can't. Don't you remember the Titanic? We can't mess with time."

Dean swung around, eyes dark, "I've gotta, Sammy," he said, his voice desperate, "She's my kid."

Crowley interjected, "She saves the world, you twit, you can't just pluck her from her time."

Dean snarled at him, "Then I'll save the world. She's my kid and I'm not letting her grow up alone and die thinking she's a freaking monster."

"Dean-"

"Sammy, please," he said, his voice almost shaking, "Sammy, I'm beggin ya. Ben and Emma, and now Bobby? I can't do it, Sammy."

Sam looked at him pityingly, "How would we even get into the future?"

"Cas. He owes it to her. He'll understand. He'll take us there." He sheathed her black knife, what was probably Crowley's knife, in his belt.

Crowley held up a hand and said in a rasping voice, "You can't just go changin her life!"

Dean snarled at him, "I don't give a rat's ass if she rules Hell with you or not, really I wanna keep her as far away from you as possible."

"Sammy," Dean continued, "You put that journal in your pocket and let's get out of here."

The doors slammed closed and Crowley rose, "You aren't leaving with that book."

Dean drew the demon blade with a snarl, Sam stood, putting himself between Crowley and Dean once again, "Crowley," he said, holding out the book, "Make a copy of the journal, is that good enough?"

Crowley regarded him, then looked at Dean, "Obviously this little tete-e-tete is over, so I suppose it will have to be."

A short while later, a neatly stapled photo copy of the journal lay on Crowley's desk Sam held the journal as Dean hefted Bobby's body into his arms. The look on his face kept even Crowley from protesting as he took his dead daughter out of the demon king's office. Crowley, undoubtedly to prevent them from discovering the location of his office, zapped them back to their dirty motel room.

Dean lay her body gently on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, "Cas!" he shouted, "Cas! Get your feathery ass down here!"

In a ruffle of wings Castiel appeared, tilting his head at Dean, "Dean. You called for me?" Cas looked in confusion between Dean's desperate face and the bloody, dead girl on the bed.

Dean seized him by the collar, "You gotta take me to the future, Cas, I gotta save her."

Cas stepped back, "I cannot, Dean. You know how difficult it is to travel in time. And you know how delicate it is."

Dean stepped forward toward him again, "Damnit, Cas. She's my kid and she's dead because of you."

Cas stared at him, blinking. "Alright, Dean."

AN: I hope you enjoyed it! Drop me a review! It keeps the fire burning!