Chapter 39

Dean tucked a strand of hair behind little Bobby's sleeping ear. She was unquestionably cute but looking at her made anger growl in his gut. He had promised himself that if he ever became a father he would do better than John had.

He had done his best. But she still grew up without anyone to help her. She still died at the claws of a monster. Her little table under a desk light was home to a crayon drawing of a Vetala.

He was overcoming his disgust that she had a thing with Crowley, she had been barely more than a kid, as much as hunters' kids are ever kids, when they had met. And there had been no one else. He'd still cut Crowley apart. If he swung saving her, he'd make sure she ended up with somebody good.

He'd shoot for human, but at he'd settle for somebody good, maybe Benny.

Suddenly she sat up, hair frizzy around her head, she scrunched up her tiny nose and looked at him, "Dad." she said with utter seriousness, "Can we make chocolate chip pancakes?"

"Its the middle of the night."

She fixed him with wide puppy dog eyes that he hadn't seen since Sammy had been her age. He relented, "Alright," he said, scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder, "Only because I'm already awake." She clambered up until she was sitting on his shoulder, fingers tucked in his hair.

He held onto her little feet, "Hey, Bobby,"

"Yeah, Dad?" she said, looking down at him.

"If a demon ever tries to kiss you, punch him."

"Ew!"

"That's right, 'ew.'"

"Why would a demon kiss me?"

"Because demons suck."

They reached the kitchen and he swung her down. She scampered to a radio that sat on a side counter and reached up, pushing buttons carefully. She pressed down the heavy eject button and a tape deck snapped open. She reached inside and flipped the cassette that sat there. She pushed the deck closed again and tapped the play button.

ACDC blared through the speakers and Dean laughed, "Good choice, kid."

She beamed at him toothily, her front tooth missing. Then she nabbed a matching pair of aprons and pressed one into his hand, "Here, Daddy."

She tugged hers over her head. They were very pink, hemmed with glossy ribbon and decorated with pastel colored polka dots. He set his on the back of a chair.

She looked at him with disapproval, "Daddy, aren't you gonna wear your apron?"

"No, Bobby, I'll be fine."

"But Uncle Cas gave us them for Christmas."

"Cas huh?"

She looked at him with such big soft eyes that he begrudgingly pulled the apron on and tied it around his waist. She smiled, "Pancakes!"

They set about making pancakes. He added all of the ingredients and she stirred, making a mess no matter how careful she tried to be. John had never made pancakes with him, it made him feel good to do this little thing.

She conived him into letting her add the chocolate chips and she added half a bag until they were almost inedibly chocolatey.

He made her stand behind him while he cooked them and, too much chocolate or no, she devoured at least four.

They sat next to each other, shovelling pancake into their mouths. She smiled at him with chocolate covered teeth. He smiled back, his cheeks packed with pancake. She giggled at him.

Her last pancake half finished she yawned mightily.

"Alright, kid, back to bed."

I stretched up her arms and he picked her up, she was already nodding off on his shoulder. She yawned, "Tell me a story."

He chuckled, "Have I told you about when I went back in time and met your gramma?"

She gasped theatrically, "No, tell me, tell me!"

He licked his thumb and rubbed chocolate off of her cheek and laid her down in her bed. She stayed awake for thirty seconds of the story before she slipped into sleep.

He picked up the journal she would write again. It might have been unfair, since he had been part of her life for eight years and Crowley was her companion for more than eight hundred, but he was her dad, and it hurt a little that her last stories were for him. He was a dick.

XXXXX

From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

I burned my own Hellion wounds closed, leaning against a wall facing Crowley's corpse. It was almost unreal to me that he was dead. There had only been snatches of my life that he hadn't been a part of. And now he was irreparably gone and I was alone. I didn't know what to do with his body.

I'm sorry, Dad.

I'm sorry if you think I'm a weak and trembling child who chose to walk with demons. But I never had a brother and I was never strong enough to do any of this alone. Of all things, burns blistering in my skin, fresh holes sliced into my soul, the very last thing that I loved dead in front of me, I cried for you, Dad.

There was a time when Crowley would have gotten a grand funeral resplendent with mourners and a pyre that could be seen for miles. But I was too wounded and weak to even drag it outside to be burned. I couldn't stay here, waiting for Castiel to return.

I took his knife, Cas had taken my spear with him and the knife would be my only defense.

I fled the castle, leaving his body rotting in its own blood.

I felt gutted and anchorless. I didn't cry again. I thought that I would cry for days. But I felt nothing, just without a tether. It had always been him who suggested where we go next. Now there was no pushy suggestion. I was just tired.

Guilt boiled in my bones as I worked my way west. I should have felt destroyed, ripped into pieces, mutilated. But I was like a husk.

I wandered. My life threatened to become blurry. I looked desperately for distraction. Witches were a thing around that time, and big names in Vampires. I hunted and I listened. I collected whispers in the dark and stole scraps that hinted at secrets.

In England I cut down a den of werewolves, a sea monster in Venice, in Amsterdam a priest told me that angels watched over me. I very much hoped he was wrong.

I let a coven of witches off with a warning in France, their witchiest activity was "fornicating with the devil." I wasn't exactly in a position to punish them for that.

Hunting helped to drive out the darkness but it thudded against me like a concussion. Loss ate at my skin. Everyone I had ever loved was dead or locked unreachably in Hell.

I stayed too long in villages and got driven out when I refused to age and die. Sometimes I slept for days, my ghosts tearing into me. Sometimes I didn't sleep for a week at a time.

The second people started going I sailed to America and then I knew where I was going. I brought with me my notes and scraps and jotted down whispers.

I was back to the first home I had ever had, it wasn't there yet, of course, my bunker. I had to carve it out of the dirt myself. I left the stories I had collected there. I hid there like a had a gun to my head.

XXXXX

Gilgash was hovering in front of Crowley again, half crazed smile splitting his face, "You wanna hear more, my devoted king?" He cackled a mad barking laugh.

Crowley snarled at him, pulling desperately at his bindings, "She had a kid? With Lucifer?"

Gilgash laughed obscenely.

Crowley screamed, Gilgash sauntered up to him and ran the tip of his knife down Crowley's chest, "Don't like it, Loyal Lord?"

Crowley spit at him, "No! You filthy, ragged haired, insect, I DON'T"

Gilgash bared his teeth, grinning terribly. He lifted the knife and held it suspended at Crowley's eye, "I know you don't."

Crowley held perfectly still, "Tell me. Please. Tell me the end of the story."

Gilgash tossed the diary down, "That was the last entry."

Crowley erupted, "WHAT! There must be more!"

"Hard to find time to keep a diary during war time. Luckily for you, I remember."

XXXXX

Gilgash's Story

I will linger for a moment on the first morning. I stepped out, allowing them to clothe themselves. Shouting rang through the door.

"You're not going into battle!" Lucifer snarled.

Predictably, her retort bit right back, "You want me to hide in the palace?! I am a warrior!"

"Yes, I remember," He said sarcastically, "But you aren't going."

I thought that this was a good opportunity to knock on the door to make my full report, before a second war started.

"Give us a minute!" Lucifer barked.

"Come in, Gil!" She snarled.

I listened to her and stepped inside.

They were both pale, she was shaking, out of anger I thought, she turned to me, "Will you tell my King that I am more than capable of fighting!"

"She is an indispensable asset in the battle field, my lord." I said evenly.

She looked happy, but he won me over quickly, "She's with child, Captain Gilgash, does that change your opinion?"

I stared at her, I had never seen her so pale, or so shaking. "Don't fight, Persy, please."

"Gil!"

I shook my head, "My lady, could you ever forgive yourself?"

She crumbled, falling to her knees, Lucifer was beside her in an instant, half in and half out of his armor, his arms wrapping around her. I could hear him whispering.

"Seph. You will be alright." his fingers brushed against her stomach, "It will be alright. I promise. I promise. You can't fight because you need to save your strength to be its last line of defense. But I am its first. I am your first."

He kissed her hair and whispered, "You don't have to fight every war alone. I will fight this one for you."

She kissed him and said in a rough voice, "Go, Lucifer. Fight for me."

He rose and looked every inch a Warrior King, pride rose in my heart. I stepped forward, attaching the rest of his armor and laying his helmet in his hands. He followed me from the room. She was still on the floor and it pained me to leave her there, but there were enemies at the gate and she could not fight. She said something else, right before the door closed. Her voice small and desperate, "And come back, Lucifer."

I was worried and distracted as we amassed the troops. This was not the time to be carrying a child. It was not a state conducive to fighting a good fight.

But we did not have to. The walls held impressively, my lady's craft and my lord's lore locked us tightly in. We could hear them, the beating of wings and the press of weapons against the wall. But they could not enter.

For now, we were safe.

I was watching Lucifer closely, he moved as a general should, with ease and confidence. It was immediately clear there was no need for a brute force attack and he adjusted accordingly. He assigned watches and gave orders, organizing our well rehearsed defensive strategy. But there were moments that he glanced back at the palace and paled, looking a much more like a boy than a God King.

Anna was leading the first watch of angels, flying high around the perimeter of the wall, checking for signs of breaking.

The watches were assembled and then there was nothing to do. This was not going to be like the first assault. This was going to be a long siege. Lucifer leapt in the air the moment he was not needed and flew straight through her window. I continued with my duties.

It was night before I had a chance to return to the palace, I knocked softly on your door. She answered quickly. She smelled like sick.

She wrapped her arms around me right away, "Gil, what am I supposed to do?"

I held her tightly and patted her back, "Persy," I said matter of factly, "You do what you always do."

She looked at me and seemed to bolster.

I pushed her hair from her eyes, "My lady, if Michael was not at your door step? If you did not feel doomed? Would you be happy?"

She regarded me for a long while then nodded, "Yes."

"Then be happy, because throwing up in nerves and wishing that time was more in your favor is not going to drive Michael away."

"Lord Lucifer was right," I continued, "You will not fight this fight alone. You always have my sword. From now until the end."

She hugged me again, "Thank you, Gilly."

I nodded at her, "Now thing of kid names and stop crying."

Footsteps behind me alerted me to Lucifer's approach, I stepped back and allowed him to enter, bowing, "My Lord, My Lady."

I left them to themselves.

XXXXX

Gilgash's Story

Many months passed and the gates held. Less than a crack had formed in our wall and the angels outside our door grew frustrated.

My lady blossomed. We were under siege and no one slept easily, but she was a light amongst us.

One evening I slipped into the Throne room, having heard voices issuing from it. I was quiet and they didn't hear me. Lucifer slouched in his throne, his arms around Persephone who lay across his lip, her head tucked onto his shoulder. He had taken off his crown and lay it on top of her expanded belly. He ran his fingers through her hair.

She was tipping her head back to look at him.

He smiled languidly at her and said in a low voice, "Is it correct? Like the kind your people give?"

She touched a silvery ring that sparkled on her left hand, the bright main stone clutched in a high set claw.

He kissed her hair and she curled into him, I saw her tumble into sleep, she was so tired these days. He picked the crown off of her belly before it fell and dropped it on his head so it fell rather kiddywampus. He stretched his wings to either side and clutched her tighter. His eyes glinted and he scowled into the dark, "Try and take this from me, Michael."

I left the room, having already seen a too much of personal matters.

XXXXX

Crowley kicked at Gilgash, who remained where he was and allowed the blow to swish harmlessly through the air, Crowley howled, "You're lying." He spat, "I gave the ring to her!"

"Did you now? Are you sure?"

"She wrote it! She wrote it in her journal!" His voice was cracking and desperate.

Gilgash's eyes were lit with angry fire, "She spent thousands of years with you, Crowley." he crooned, "Do you honestly think that everything she wrote was the truth?"

Crowley stopped fighting and hung there, "Why?"

Gilgash walked in a lazy circle around Crowley, his knife lolling against Crowley's skin, cutting as he circled him. When he stood in front of him again, Gilgash cut a shallow slice up his abdomen to his jaw.

He leaned in and whispered, "Because it was not enough for you to die once."

XXXXX

Dean put the book down. She built the bunker? I pushed himself up from the chair and rushed into Sam's room. He shook him awake, Sam startled and sat up, "What, Dean?"

"She said she built the bunker. Sammy, get up, I need your nerd brain."

"Dean," Sam said rubbing his eyes, "Did you even sleep?"

"No, Sammy, come on."

"Ok, ok, what Dean?"

"When we did that thing with Charlie and the Wicked Witch of the West, you remember Dorothy, she said she got there after the bunker got built, right?"

"Yeah, she did."

"Ok, so if they built it, how did she build it?"

Sam pushed the hair out of his eyes, "I dunno, Dean, I mean they could have picked up where she left off." He blinked and pushed Dean off his legs so he could get up and pull on a shirt.

"I think she's lying, Sammy."

Sam finished buttoning up his shirt and said, "Why would she be lying in her own journal?"

"I dunno," Dean said sarcastically, "Because she was gonna give it to Crowley?"

Sam looked at him disbelievingly, "Dean, she was married to Crowley, why would she lie to him?"

"Come on, Sammy," he said, pressing, "You heard what she did to him when she saw him, she ran him around, giving him cryptic messages and running into him all over."

"So what?"

"So you think that's what Dad've done if he saw Mom again? S'that what you'd of done if you saw Jess?"

"What are you saying, Dean?"

"I'm saying Crowley's a dick. And I think she left something here for me to read."

Sam rocked back on his heels, "Alright, how are you gonna find it? The library is huge and there are rooms full of records."

Dean scowled, "What d'you think I woke you up for? I need your big college brain." He tossed the journal to him, open to the page he had left off on.

"Look at that, Sammy, tell me what you can figure out."

Sam read the last few paragraphs and scrunched his nose, "It's pretty melodramatic but I dunno, Dean." He sort of laughed and read in a soppy, soap opera voice, "I hid there like I had a gun to my head' What does that-"

But Dean had taken off, sprinting down the hallways into the lowest levels of archives. Sam instinctively followed after him.

By the time Sam got to him he was pulling a slim volume out of a need row of tomes, it looked old."

"Funkytown, Sammy!" he said victoriously, waving the thin book, "That stupid line at the end, she meant Funkytown!"

Sam grinned, "Cute, you taught her our code words."

Dean sat where he was, opening the book, "Course I did, Sammy, she's my kid."

XXXXX

The Letter from the Bunker

Dad, if Gabriel put you in the bunker, stay there. Everything is about to change. If everything is going right, Gilgash has Crowley trussed up in Hell. There is more that I want to tell you.

I've gotta tell you all of it because I have to ask you for a favor at the end but you don't know enough to agree to it.

I know you don't really approve of my choices in boys, so first I'm going to disappoint you further. But when we met he was just beautiful and young instead of old and cruel. The things the millennia can do to a guy.

XXXXX

Dean swore at the letter.

"What?" Sam asked, sliding down next to him and looking at it over his shoulder, "Oh my god, she hooked up with Lucifer?"

Dean flipped through the little book, "Yeah, there are about ten pages of them in Hell together, she tossed out Crowley though, I like that."

They sat shoulder to shoulder and read, Dean scowling at the letter. After a few pages Sam nudged him, "He seems pretty sweet though, I mean, he's not like the Lucifer we threw in the pit."

"You mean the Lucifer that ripped you up so good you went off the deep end and tried to end the world?"

Sam grimaced and they read on. Sam got to the end of the page before Dean did and looked at him for his reaction. In a moment Dean blinked and looked up from the book. He swung his head around to look at Sam, nodding with angry resignation.

"Sammy, if we have to hunt my grandkid the son of the devil, I'm out."

Sam looked at his brother sadly, "Her other journal has her crawling out of Hell with Crowley and no kid."

"She might have been lying."

XXXXX

The Letter from the Bunker

The walls held so well. If it weren't for the perpetual guard I could almost forget that they were out there. Life moved forward because it had to. Lucifer stopped being so on edge at the world was almost normal. Of course, we had an advantage over a human city under seige. Only the angels and I had to eat and I could lift what we needed from the ground of Hell. But none of us could get sick, so the plagues that decimated cities under attack made no appearance. In theory, we could have remained like this into perpetuity.

That didn't erase the curling fear that lingered in my belly and woke me up at night, imagining Michael coming down upon us and setting us on fire.

One night, in the middle of the night, I was awoken by a shout from Lucifer. I sat up, fear ripping into me, "What, Luce, what!"

He reached out and gripped me, breathing hard, "Noth - Nothing, a dream." He was sweating.

I pushed his damp hair out of his eyes and kissed his brow, "What? Luce, tell me."

His eyes glowed almost in the dark and he whispered, "You were burning."

I wanted to reassure him but before I spoke pain jolted up my belly, "Luce!" I cried, putting a hand on my swollen belly. A wave of crippling pressure swept down to my pelvis and I cried out, "Shit, Luce, holy shit!"

"What, Seph! Oh Father above, is it happening!" He was all in a tizzy and leapt up, his wings flapping uselessly.

His flapping calmed me down and I said sternly, "Get your wings under control, its not all going to happen in ten seconds. Put on some clothes and go get my handmaidens."

The clear instructions seemed to steady him and he nodded, pulling clean clothes on and tying back his hair, "Alright, Seph, I'm going to get your handmaidens."

Another contraction twisted my abdomen and I gave him a pained a-okay sign with my hand.

His panic returned, "I don't know what that means!"

I caught my breath, "Sorry, just go, come back with someone useful."

He half ran and half flew out the door, coming back shortly later with three handmaidens in tow. Two of them seemed nervous and unsure but the third, thank every god there has ever been, looked at me clinically.

She pointed at one of the girls, "Get hot water," she turned on the other, "Draw back the covers and make her comfortable." She looked at Lucifer, "You may leave, my Lord, I'll fetch you when she is finished."

Lucifer turned thankfully to the door but I shouted at him, "You get back here, you winged rat, you did this to me and you're not gonna take a knee while it's happening."

Lucifer turned back and the steady handmaiden, Elthis, raised her eyebrow at me, "My Lady, I beg your pardon, but this isn't the place for a man."

I ignored her and addressed Lucifer, "How would you feel if something happened and I bit it while you were in the waiting room with a cigar?"

He looked very lost, but I seemed to have properly scared him, "That can happen! She could die?"

"Yeah, Luce, what if it has wings, I am not built to shove something out that has wings!" the crushing pain was making it a lot more difficult to remember not to use phrases that wouldn't be colloquial for a few thousand years, "So get your feathery ass over here and hold my fucking hand!"

He darted to my side and took my hand in his. The handmaidens smiled at each other secretively.

When the next contraction struck I gripped Lucifer's cool hand and light glowed for a moment under his fingers. I could still feel the stiffening of my belly but the pain eased.

I looked at him furiously, "And you were going to leave, you useless mongrel!"

He wrinkled his nose, "The name calling could stop, I'm helping you."

The steady handmaiden helped immensely and I have no idea how I could have possibly managed any of it without Lucifer dulling the pain. It took so damn long.

I could feel it coming out and I screamed, I could feel the wings tearing as it grated along my insides. Elthis stiffened, fearful unhappiness evident in her eyes.

"What is it?" Lucifer barked, "What's happening?"

"The wings, my Lord," she said darkly, "The child is stuck."

I clenched his forearm, "Lucifer, if he'll suffocate." His eyes blazed into mine and he stood with calm certainty.

"Move." he commanded the handmaidens who rushed out of his way. He took his curved silvery blade from atop his chest of drawers and approached me. He looked as he did in battle, his eyes hard and appraising.

He steadied the knife and slit my belly open smoothly. I released a wounded scream. He scooped the baby out and handed it to Elthis who began caring for it. Blood was pouring out of my wounds and my vision was blurring. Light glowed from Lucifer's hands.

I woke up a few minutes later, still light headed but my vision was righted. I had been lifted out of bed and returned to it, the sheets now clean of blood. Lucifer sat beside me, his clothes were sweaty and bloody but he was smiling, a little bundle tucked in his arms.

He looked at me as I awoke and he smiled so sweetly, "You're awake," he whispered and I could hear his smile in his voice, "Do you want to meet your son?"

I held out my arms and took him desperately. Little green eyes blinked sleepily up at me. Wrapped around him under the soft blanket were fluffy white wings, covered in soft down rather than regal feathers.

My breath caught in my throat.

Lucifer kissed my hair, "We need to name -"

I cut him off, "Dean. His name is Dean."

AN: Hope you all enjoyed it! Everything is starting to come together! Lemme know what you thought!