Unfound

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Season 13 – Episode One: Lost and Found: Dean and Sam cope with the aftermath of their latest battle with Lucifer, while Jack explores the world.

Sam entered the nursery carefully. He heard no cries. Seated in the corner of the room was a young man with blonde hair and glowing gold eyes. He wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing.

"Father?" He asked.

"No, no, no," Sam responded softly. "No. I'm not your father, Jack. It is Jack, right?"

"Father," Jack said with more determination, standing up.

Sam heard the door downstairs slam open and he assumed, Dean's footsteps pound up the stairs. "Sam, Sammy?" A voice called out, confirming it was his brother.

"I'm in here," Sam called back.

Dean came in, gun drawn. When he saw Jack, he didn't ask any questions, he just shot.

"No!" Sam called out.

Jack screamed. Waves of light came off of him. It blasted out the windows in the room. Both Sam and Dean attempted to reach him, but they were thrown against the wall as the scream ended. They were both crashed to the ground, unconscious.

III

Harry couldn't help but let a silly grin slip onto his face as he raced the motorbike that he had taken out of the Bunker. He had forgotten how good it felt to be out on the open road. It was as close to flying as he was going to get right now. Once he had passed through the Nebraska state line, he felt like he had successfully dodged Teddy and Molly. And while he did feel a little guilty about it, he knew that he was doing what was right.

Everything was going well – he had stopped to make sure that he was heading in the right direction (the employee at the Gas n' Sip had looked concerned about his bruised-up face, but hadn't said anything). Now he practically flew down the I-90 doing his best to make up the time that he lost and catch up to his brothers.

Which was all well and good until a searing pain blinded him. He could feel it in his chest – it was something big. A power like he had never felt before. He pulled over to the side of the road, to avoid getting into an accident. He knew what it was. He was too late – the baby had been born.

This made him more determined to get to his brothers. He had a very clear idea of where the child was as if he had a homing beacon. And Harry knew that if he had that sense that Lucifer must also have it. He needed to get back on the road.

Harry was ready to head out again when he noticed lights flashing behind him. He briefly considered trying to speed away before the officers could get out of their car which was parked behind him. That hope was dashed when another squad car pulled ahead of where he had pulled over on the side of the road.

"Sir, step off the vehicle," came a voice came from a couple of feet away from him.

Carefully, and trying not to wince, Harry did so. He had been running on full adrenaline and the pain medications he had taken were now beginning to wear off.

"Hands where we can see them!" Came a crisp command. There were two uniformed police officers with their guns trained on Harry. Harry rolled his eyes but held his arms up.

"What seems to be the problem, officers?" Harry asked, trying to flash his most charming smile. It probably came off as more of a grimace because now that his adrenaline had come down, he was feeling all the aches and pains from his injuries.

It didn't work. Within seconds he had been tackled to the ground, his arms pulled painfully behind him.

"You have the right to remain silent…" one of the officers started.

III

Dean woke up suddenly. Next to him, Sam was also coming to.

"Wait, was that – " Dean started to ask.

"Lucifer's son," Sam confirmed.

Dean grabbed his gun and the two of them went down the stairs to exit the house. "Can he apparate?" Dean asked as they approached the Impala.

"Huh?"

"The kid. Does he have wings?"

"I don't know," there was no one in the yard. "But Harry has wings, and he's supposed to be…"

"The equal to this thing, yeah," Dean said. He ran a hand through his hair and swore loudly.

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala. "We still have holy oil, right?" he asked as he searched. He wasn't sure what Crowley could have done while he was in there. Everything appeared to be in order, except the Devil's Trap on the roof.

"For what?" Sam asked.

"'Cause we're gonna have to hit him with everything we got."

"Hold on a second. Can we just talk about what happened back there?"

"Sure. What part? Let's see. Gabriel's probably toast, Kelly's dead, Cas is – " he couldn't complete that thought. "Mom's gone, Harry is powerless, and apparently, the Devil's kid hit puberty in thirty seconds flat. Oh, and almost killed us."

"Yeah, because you tried to shoot him," Sam said.

"I tried to shoot the monster, Sam. It's kind of what we do."

"We don't know what he is yet, Dean. And I had it under control," Sam huffed.

"I'm sorry," Dean replied tightly. "Are you defending the Son of Satan?"

"I'm not defending anything! I'm just saying, look, with everything that's happened, I'm obviously spun out also, but we need a plan."

"Yeah, kill him! Ok? That's the plan. Look, right now all that matters is finding him, and ending him before he hurts anybody else. And once we do that, we'll sort everything else out."

"We can't kill him," Sam argued. Dean arched an eyebrow. "Harry. Have you forgotten? We kill the kid we kill Harry."

"Is that still true? Harry's not the Angel of Death right now. He's human – Muggle, even, just like me. If anything, we should strike while the iron is hot and kill this kid before Harry's power upped again."

"We have no idea what would happen to Harry! Are you really willing to take that risk?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing from Dean. "Look, let's just find him and take him back to the Bunker, then we can…"

"Oh, you want to take the monster to our powerless brother so that he can end him?" Dean asked furiously.

Sam didn't dignify that with a response. "What about Cas?" He asked, changing the subject. "Is he – is he really dead?"

"You know he is," Dean said darkly. And he knew who was to blame.

III

Harry was in an interrogation room in a police prescient so small that he was surprised that they had such a room at all. His hands were handcuffed to the table in front of him. He had been worried that being bound again would trigger some sort of Asmodeus flashback but it was so distinctly unmagical and nonthreatening that, other than aggravating his injuries, it didn't bother him. Before they had put him in there, he had been told that he was arrested for driving without a license, expired tags on his motorbike, and some other charges, but he had stopped listening after those were listed. He needed to figure out how to get out of here and to his brothers as soon as possible.

And, if he were being honest with himself, he was so exhausted that he was having a tough time focusing.

"Excuse me," a voice said close to his ear.

Harry started. He had fallen asleep.

"Sir, are you alright?"

He looked up. A middle-aged man was standing on the other side of the table, looking very concerned.

"Huh?" Harry asked eloquently.

"Sir. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Harry squinted a second. Was he wearing his glasses? He scrunched his nose up a bit – yes. Wait. The man had asked him a question. He looked at the fingers just a couple of feet in front of his face. They were swimming. "Uh – three," he said, finally.

The man seemed reassured by that. "My name is Officer Clay. I have taken over your case. Could you give me your name? You didn't have any identification on you."

"Henry Winchester," Harry responded, surprisingly without difficulty.

"Mr. Winchester. You were spotted driving a motorcycle registered to a Dorothy Baum seventy years ago. The arsenal that you had in the side bags is…impressive. On top of your physical condition, I have to ask – are you running from someone? Someone who has hurt you?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. His laugh turned into a cough, which turned into a fit that he couldn't stop.

Officer Clay quickly produced a bottle of water that Harry was able to take with one of his cuffed hands and drink from, ending the fit.

"My apologies, Officer Clay," he said when he was finally able to breathe again. "You could say that, I suppose. But mostly I'm running towards someone – my brothers."

"Your brothers?"

"Yes. They're in danger and I'm afraid that I don't have time to be arrested today, so if you could kindly…"

There was a knock on the door.

"Clay," the woman who peaked her head in the door said.

"Yes?"

"There's been a development," the woman said.

The officer nodded. "Ok. Will you be alright for a couple of minutes?" He asked Harry seriously. It took everything in him not to laugh at him again. "Good." He left.

Concentrate, Potter, Harry thought to himself. He had gotten out of Asmodeus' magical handcuffs these Muggle ones shouldn't post a threat to him. Carefully he started looking around to room to see what he had to work with.

Yes! He thought. The officer had left behind a notebook and pen. Now to figure out how to reach them…

III

"This is where they live?" Molly Weasley asked, torn between wonderment and disapproval. "There's no sunlight! No fresh air!" With a couple of flicks of her wand the stale air that pervaded the Bunker cleared. "But it is awfully clever and Bill said that the wards are unrivaled." She glanced around. "We'll get this place in tip-top shape in no time."

Teddy didn't doubt that she meant it. And, honestly, he had never thought of casting an air-freshening charm before and it improved things greatly. Partially because he knew that Dean's tolerance for magic on "his" things was limited.

"Now, where's Harry?" She asked, not wasting a moment of time.

"This way, Gran," Teddy said.

He led the red-haired woman (although it was mostly white these days) towards Harry's room. Everywhere they went she continued to cast charms that spruced things up. He knocked lightly. "Harry, Gran and I are here."

There was no response.

"He could be sleeping?" Teddy said, completely unsure. He was honestly surprised that Harry hadn't been out in the main library to meet them, even though he had told his godfather to stay in bed.

"Then we'll be quiet," Molly responded, casting a silencing charm on the hinges before opening the door.

Teddy's stomach sank.

It was empty. On the bed, there was a single piece of paper.

Welcome to the States, Molly. It read. I'm sorry to have missed your arrival. I hope to be back in just a couple of days with Sam and Dean. Please make yourself at home. Don't worry about me – I'll be fine.

– H

III

Previously, in Limbo

Sirius was in trouble. Which wasn't unusual for him. After all, he had been leading a rebellion against the powers-that-be in Purgatory for years.

Time was an odd thing. The Winchesters (and that bastard of an angel, Castiel) had told him that time in Purgatory was the same as time on the mortal plane. But both Purgatory and Limbo were stuck in an endless twilight, although that was about where the similarities ended.

They had been ambushed by demons also as soon as they had entered this new land – about a hundred battle-worn witches and wizards against twenty demons. The demons had never encountered magical humans before and they didn't stand a chance. Magic seemed to work more normally here than it had in Purgatory and after the quick work, they had made of every inhabitant that they had encountered and their increasingly improving living situation had made Sirius less wary.

Which was a mistake on so many different levels.

Magic had started as something that felt as it had on Earth – some witches and wizards were more powerful than others, but those who had a basic education could perform magic much as they had in life. Sirius had certainly felt the magic rolling through his veins. It had been incredible. At first. The more time he spent here the more he noticed that things had become…difficult. He had thought that maybe he was out of practice, when it had first started, but it was as if the magic was being slowly drained from him and he didn't know where the leak was.

Before he could further investigate, one of the younger witches disappeared. Celia was on the fringes of their group and had never quite integrated, even though she agreed with the cause. Sirius hadn't thought much of it – he expected to lose a couple.

But it quickly became a pattern.

And now he was looking at the mangled body of a wizard that he had been responsible for protecting. The man wasn't dead – (well, he was, they all were), but it looked like he would be better off in whatever place witches and wizards who "died" here went.

"Gross, ain't it?" a voice said to him.

Sirius jumped and fired a curse as quickly as he could in the direction of whatever had spoken to him. It was particularly weak but better than nothing.

"Woah! Nice try, buster, but you're gonna have to try harder if you wanna get me."

Sirius spun and finally saw what he was up against. The man was shorter than him with rich, copper eyes, and a smirk to match his relaxed stance. Whatever this was, he wasn't scared of him.

The – Sirius was pretty sure that it wasn't a demon – put his hands up. "I come in peace," he said.

"What are you?" Sirius asked. "Not a demon."

The man smiled brighter. "You don't disappoint, Padfoot," he said. "Always heard you were clever. Although Harry insisted that it was Moony that was the real brains of the operation."

Sirius was a war veteran. Of so many wars, at this point, he couldn't keep track, but he nearly dropped his wand at the use of his school nickname and his godson.

His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

The man tilted his head. "I'm an angel, so you – "

Sirius bum rushed the angel and managed to surprise him enough to knock him up against a tree, his wand at his throat.

The angel sighed and regained his footing but did not attempt to get away from Sirius, who was panting heavily.

"Ah, you've, uh, heard of us then?" he asked.

"Only one," Sirius ground out. "And he told me that he killed Harry."

"Oh, Castiel. That scamp. You must have met him when he and short and dull Winchester were in Purgatory. Dean never mentioned meeting you – but he doesn't exactly trust me, so I guess I get that."

Sirius didn't withdraw his wand. "Who are you?" he repeated.

"I'm Gabriel," the angel said at last. "And I believe that we have some common enemies. So, if you'd so kindly remove your wand from my throat, I believe we should have a chat."

III

"Ben, do you know how to track a phone?" Teddy asked desperately.

"Nice to hear from you, Teds," came a laughing voice on the other end of the line. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you know, I was being held hostage…well, not really hostage, but I was working with…not voluntarily, but I was with the…" Teddy babbled.

"Slow down, there," Ben tried to calm him. "Claire filled me in. She's on major lockdown with Jody right now. She called to tell me what was happening before Jody took her to the middle of the woods for some 'family time,'" the last bit was a bit of an accusation, but Teddy knew that he didn't really mean it.

"Good. Well, Harry took off and…"

"Again?"

"Yeah. I know. But I turned the GPS on his phone like you taught me to do before he left but I can't remember how to locate it. Ben – he's really hurt. I'm afraid…"

"Message me the info. If I can't figure it out, I'm sure one of my CS buddies can."

Teddy didn't know what a CS buddy was, but he sighed gratefully. Ben was in his first semester of uni. He knew that Lisa had been pleased because the school was in Boston, close to home. "Thanks, Ben, I owe you one."

"And don't you forget it," he replied. "Give me ten minutes."

The phone clicked off.

Teddy felt a fraction better. He quickly sent all the information he had.

He waited anxiously.

It wasn't even ten minutes.

Ben 10:34
Wall, Nebraska

"Gran!" Teddy called out. "I know where he is!"

Another text came through.

Ben 10:34
He's at a police station

Bollocks, Teddy thought.

He had another phone call to make.

III

Harry was halfway through jimmying his way out of the handcuffs when the detective returned to the room. He quickly hid the pen so that it couldn't be taken away from him.

Officer Clay had a file in his hands.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"We found something very interesting," the officer said.

There was a long pause. "Do you want to share with the class?"

"Mr. Winchester," the officer began. "This is a missing person's report from 1995. Unsolved." He put the file he was holding down and slid it across the table.

Harry looked down at the file with surprise. On top was a grainy black and white picture of him – approximately 15 years old. The name on the tab read, "Henry Winchester." He couldn't think of why this file existed. After all, anyone who could have filed such a report would not have been able to remember him. Surely the angels wouldn't have missed someone.

"However, there is something very puzzling about it. While it was filed in 1995, it did not appear in the system until about three months ago. Like it didn't exist until then."

Harry felt uneasy. This didn't make sense to him either. He decided to play dumb. "Honestly, Officer, I'm rubbish at technology. And I fail to see what this has to do with me, in any case."

The officer raised his eyebrows.

"It's a good likeness," Harry admitted. "But I can't imagine that I am the only Henry Winchester in the United States. And, as you can see, I'm not missing."

"Hmm," the officer said, clearly not buying any of this. "The Henry Winchester in this report reportedly spoke with a British accent, was the brother to the now deceased Sam and Dean Winchester, and, most interestingly of all, had the distinguishing mark of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead."

"Alright," Harry said. "Even if it is me, what does it matter? That was over twenty years ago."

"It matters, Mr. Winchester because it is just another thing to add to the pile of mysteries surrounding you. Would you like to explain this?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know that I can," he responded honestly. "And while I'm sure that cold cases are fascinating, I really need to get back on the road."

The officer gave him a look. "You're not going anywhere, Mr. Winchester."

Harry huffed. This was ridiculous. Never had he missed his wings more. His brothers were facing the Devil he didn't have time for this. "Then I believe I get one phone call," he said, reaching for what he had gleaned about the American justice system from the little bit of TV and movies he had seen over the years.

"It's three actually," he responded. "But I have reasonable suspicion that you have been involved in criminal activity, so I can detain you for 48 hours."

None of that was said threateningly. Just matter-of-factly. And Harry had no idea if it was true or not. American Muggle law was hardly something that he had spent a great deal of time studying. He was hoping a phone call to Sam would help clear this all up. But he had a feeling that, even though this was a small town, this man knew what he was talking about. After hearing story after story about the incompetency of the average American police officer from Sam and Dean, he couldn't help but curse his luck to get the one that seemed to know what he was doing.

Harry didn't want this police officer to believe that he would be in any trouble though, so he did his best to keep the conversation light. "That's too bad. What crime do you reasonably suspect that I've committed?"

"Why don't you tell me? You have a stolen vehicle, enough weapons to do some serious damage, and a disappearance so mysterious that I suspect that you, or someone close to you, has been tampering with police databases."

Harry took a deep breath. No, he didn't have magic. Or wings. Or anyone who knew where he was, but he still had his wits. He was just going to have to talk his way out of this conversation and then hopefully escape with the pen he had stowed in his lap.

"Officer…" he started. But that was all he was able to get out while a searing pain – was it pain? It was in his head. It was in the air. It was all around him. Voices – hundreds of them. All angry and shouting out. He cried out with surprise and pain.

He was vaguely aware of the shouting around him as he seized in pain but was unable to understand any of the words before he passed out.

III

Sam sat in the holding cell that he had been thrown in with Jack. The somehow-young man began to stir after Dean's taser had taken him down just moments before. As he sat up, he noticed Sam and quickly moved away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sam said holding his hands out to show that he wasn't armed or dangerous. His eyes started to glow gold and Sam knew that wasn't a good sign. "Easy, easy," he cautioned. "It's ok. You're ok. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You already hurt me," Jack accused.

"Yes, I did," Sam admitted. "I – I'm sorry. I was just trying to slow you down. You – you were, uh, are you alright?" He tried to keep the fear out of his voice but this was a baby that had somehow become a teenager who had the power of a nuclear powerhead.

"I don't…" he was unclear. "I…I was scared, and when I get scared, things happen. I…I can't stop them."

Jack began to calm down and his eyes return to what Sam assumes is their natural shade of blue.

"Why were you scared?" Sam ventures to ask.

"Because of the voices." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "They were so…loud, so…angry…"

Sam had an idea of what Jack might be hearing from what Harry had told him, but this was the son of the Devil, so he thought it would be best to check. "Do you hear them right now?"

Jack seemed to consider the question and stood up. "No."

"Good," Sam said with relief.

Jack sat down again, cross-legged, and stared at Sam. "I'm sorry," he said.

"What?"

"Will you tell them that I'm sorry?" He asked, unnerving the large hunter again.

"Yeah. Sure. Of course," Sam agreed readily, even though he didn't know what Jack was talking about. "Jack…how are you, um…How are we…talking right now? I mean, you're – you're not even a day old. How do you speak English?"

Jack smiled slightly. "My mother taught me," he said with pride.

"So, you talked to her."

"I was her."

"Ok. And um…your powers. Did you teach you those, too, or…"

"No, I…I don't know why these things happen. It's like I'm me, but…not me."

Sam was beginning to feel very worried again. "Jack, look before you were born, you – you opened a door to another world. Do you remember that?"

Jack took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Ok. Um – could you do that again?"

"I don't…" Jack looked confused. "I…I have to find my father. He'll protect me."

Shit, Sam thought. "Jack, you gotta listen to me," he said with some urgency. "That's not really what Lucifer does."

"Lucifer?" Jack tilted his head in a hauntingly familiar way. "No, that's not his name. My father is Castiel."

"What?"

"My mother, she said Castiel, he would keep me safe. She said the world was a dangerous place. That's – that's why I couldn't be a baby or a child. I – that's why I had to grow up fast. That's why I chose him to be my father. Where is he?"

Sam's face fell. "He's dead," he said as gently as possible.

Jack looked up at him, surprised, shocked, and sad. "Oh. Then…he's not my father, but I can…I can feel him. Where is Harry? Is he here?"

III

Previously, in Limbo

"So, you were…his guardian angel? Didn't do a great job did you?" Sirius asked, voice full of spite.

"I prefer to think of myself as his future lover," Gabriel said without missing a beat. "And best friend."

"Harry's gay?" Damn, that meant that he lost his best with Moony that his godson would date the youngest Weasley when he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out.

Gabriel shrugged. "Not yet. But sexuality is a spectrum and everyone has moments of doubt, don't they?"

Sirius let out his bark of a laugh. Then he remembered that they were talking about his dead godson. "He's dead – how can he be your future anything?"

"I'm an angel," Gabriel said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah. You've said that. What's that got to do with the market price of dragon livers?"

"Uh, hellooo, it means that I can go to Heaven. I've got eons to woo Harry. But that's neither here nor there. But running into you is good luck on my part. Can't think of a more romantic gesture than bringing my man his long-lost godfather."

Telling Sirius that Harry was no longer in Heaven didn't suit Gabriel's plans. And he did plan on reuniting them – just not in the afterlife. It was a small lie, but far from his worst.

Sirius' heart stopped. "You could do that?"

Heaven wasn't something that Sirius spent a lot of time thinking about. He knew he had missed his chance when he fell through the veil all those years ago. There was little point in mourning what he lost. It wasn't anything that he had thought he would get back, anyway.

"I wouldn't offer it if I couldn't," Gabriel said. "But right now, the Winchesters are in a great deal of trouble and they need our help."

Sirius' cautious acceptance of this angel vanished. "Don't tell you that you're another angel that they have in their pockets. You are in league with Castiel, aren't you?"

"Buddy, I'm in a league all my own," Gabriel shot back.

"And if you love Harry as much as you say, how can you stand to let his murderer run free?" Sirius asked.

"I can't," Gabriel said. "But Castiel has a purpose to serve. Do you want me to tell you about it? I can do this without you, but, if you help me, not only will I reunite you with Harry, I will also deliver Castiel to you on a platter."

Sirius thought. Either this angel was an excellent actor or he was completely honest. But if there was even a tiny chance that he would get to see Harry – or hell, Lily and James again, he had to take it. "I'm listening."

III

Since learning about hunting from Sam, Dean, and Jody, Donna's life sure had changed. Ok, most of her time she still spent being Sheriff of Stillwater, but every once in a while, she got the call for something weird. Both those things meant that she couldn't be one of those people who didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. No siree bub.

She wondered if this would be one of those when she saw that there was no name associated with this one.

"Hello?" She answered the phone, trying not to sound unfriendly but also hoping that this wasn't a robocall.

"Donna?" Came a voice on the other end.

"This is she – how can I help?" She asked.

"Erm, this is, um, Ted Lupin? Do you remember me?"

"Teddy Bear! Of course, how could I have forgotten a cutie-patootie like you? Everything alright?"

"Not really," he replied. Donna braced herself.

"Are you in danger?" She asked becoming serious immediately. The young man was a skilled hunter, but he was still just that – young.

"No," he responded quickly. "Not me. I'm sorry to bother you, but I think that my godfather has been arrested and…"

"Your dead godfather?" Donna asked. Once, late at night, when Jody had been very drunk, she told her about the time she met Sam and Dean for the first time as adults. She doubted that Teddy would know the story, as it had taken her years and a butt-load of alcohol to get it out of her friend, but it would explain why he was calling her instead of Jody.

"Oh. Er – yeah. So, not so dead anymore. Turns out he's more of a Winchester than any of us really knew. He's back but…"

"I gonna need you to back this on up," Donna said. "A Winchester?"

"Yeah. Look – I know this is all a lot and it's a much longer story that I'll make Sam and Dean tell you, but Harry, my godfather, is their brother. They're off dealing with Lucifer, but he couldn't go because he lost his magic and his wings, and he's super hurt, but he snuck off and I don't know what kind of trouble he could be in now and Sam and Dean are gonna kill me!"

All of that was said super quickly and Donna had a tough time catching it all. She felt like she was missing out on some pertinent information but the long and short of it seemed to be that Teddy's no-longer-dead godfather that was somehow also Sam and Dean's brother was under arrest. And under arrest was something she could at least look into.

"They won't kill you," she assured him first. "Do you know where he is? I can make a phone call and see what I can do. I should be able to at least get ya some information. Now, where exactly is he and do you know what he was arrested for?"

Teddy told her what he knew. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough. "Just stay put, Teddy," she told him. "I'll take care of it."

"Thank you, Donna."

III

Sam hadn't had a lot of time to explain to Jack where Harry was before they were attacked by angels. He put all his effort into defending the Nephilim – not just because he was a child that needed to be kept away from Heaven, but also because if something happened to him, Sam had no idea what would happen to Harry.

With desperation, he watched as one of the angels tried to lead Jack (who was clearly in pain) out of the holding cell.

"Hey!" He called out from his position on the floor. He had drawn a banishing sigil on the floor and with vindictive glee, he pressed his hand against it. The angels that had been in the cell with them disappeared.

Jack collapsed to the ground.

"Jack!" Sam called out.

Dean had the bitch of an angel, Miriam, with an angel blade to her throat. "Why are you here?" He demanded.

"We want the Golden Ticket. Lucifer 2: Electric Boogaloo."

"Why?" Dean asked, both interested and concerned.

"Because Bieber in there? He can do almost anything. More than your brother. Why do you think we gave up the search for your third wheel? The kid will be better – he's not already a stubborn jackass."

Dean stopped listening after she said Jack could do anything. His mind flashed to the vision of Cas's dead body in Harry's cabin just a couple of minutes away. "Anything?"

As if she could read his mind (he was going to have to ask Harry about that), Miriam chuckled. "Oh, sweetie. Almost anything. Castiel, he's dead. All the way dead, because of you."

That distracted Dean enough for her to be able to head butt him, break free from his hold, and take her angel blade back as she headed towards Sam and Jack.

"Sam!" Dean called out.

When the angel came back to him, Sam stood between her and Jack.

"Don't," he warned.

"Or what, other one?"

Dean came in from behind her. "Guess."

"Stay away from the kid," Sam said.

"You're right. But if we can't have him," she stabbed Jack in the chest through the bars of the holding cell, "no one can."

Jack dropped to his knees. Sam moved quickly and killed the angel before going back to Jack.

"Jack. Jack J – " he said, beginning to panic. Jack looked at him calmly before removing the angel blade from where it had been embedded in his heart. It was covered in blood but didn't seem to be causing him pain.

"I…I'm fine," he declared.

III

"Gran – she told us to stay here!" Teddy said desperately as Molly Weasley prepared herself to go when he had told her where Harry was.

"And who exactly is this woman we are now taking orders from?" His honorary grandmother asked him. "It was my understanding that Harry is so ill that he should not even be out of bed, much less under arrest in a muggle jail cell."

"She's a friend, I told you that! A sheriff, actually."

"Pish posh. Harry is very difficult to handle when he is like this, that's why I'm here in the first place. He needs a firm hand from someone he trusts to make him see sense. I doubt that she knows what she's doing. Now, Edward, are you coming with me or not?"

"You…want me to come with?" He was expecting to be ordered to stay behind, like always.

"Of course. I doubt that this situation is dangerous. And you have more knowledge of this country than I do. I also need you to show me where the anti-apparation wards end. Now, we haven't any more time to waste."

She started to head towards the exit. Teddy didn't need any more prompting and he quickly followed after her. He didn't think that just popping in would help the situation at all, but he wasn't sure how he'd convince the witch to take a car instead.

III

"How's the kid?" Dean asked Sam. Jack was still inside the police station, where they had told him to stay until they handled speaking with the sheriff.

"He's gonna be alright," Sam said. "I mean, Angel Radio sets his brain on fire, but other than that…"

"Does it do that to Harry?" Dean asked.

"I dunno. I'd think that he would have mentioned if it did, but then again…"

"Telling us shit isn't exactly his forte," Dean concluded. "And apparently, this kid can take an angel blade to the heart and keep tickin'."

"Yeah. I guess." He hesitated for a moment. "Listen, I – I think we should take him back to the Bunker with us. I know you're gonna say – "

" – I agree," Dean said, surprising his youngest brother.

"What?"

"I agree."

"I thought – with Harry being injured that…"

"Yeah. We'll have to keep them separate until Harry gets his mojo back," Dean agreed. "But once he does, he has the best chance at getting this kid under control. He's still the Devil's kid. He's still evil. He brainwashed Kelly and Cas. We're gonna need what's left of the team to reign him in. And even if he hasn't gone Big Bad yet, he will."

"You don't know that," Sam defended. "Harry's never gone Big Bad and he's the same…isn't he?"

"He is not, and you know it," Dean said sharply. "He ain't the Devil's son. And I do know he'll go dark side. 'Cause when have things ever gone right for us? So, until I figure out a way to end him, we'll bring him home. At least, there, the only people he can hurt are you, me, and Harry."

Sam just shook his head and moved to go inside to get Jack. He'd have to work on Dean – hopefully, Harry would see things his way and help. He hesitated and asked Dean one more question that he didn't want to discuss in front of the kid. "What about Sirius Black?"

Dean's face hardened. "What about him? If Crowley hasn't already killed him, then we'll just have to gank the son-of-a-bitch ourselves."

Sam decided not to argue. He was angry at the wizard too. But they'd have to be careful. He didn't know what Harry's reaction would be yet, but he was sure that he wouldn't agree to kill the man. Another bridge to cross when they got to it.

Speaking of Harry, he realized that he should probably call and update the middle Winchester on everything that had happened. Figuring out exactly what happened was going to be difficult, but he deserved to know. So, before going to where he knew Jack was sitting waiting for him, he pulled out his phone.

It rang. And rang. No response, it went to voicemail.

Maybe he was just sleeping. Something in his stomach told Sam that was probably not the case. So, he called Teddy.

Who answered after just a couple of rings.

"Hey, Uncle Sam," the young man said. Sam narrowed his eyes – he sounded nervous and he often used "uncle" when he was trying to butter him up. "Teddy, get off that infernal thing whilst you're driving! Are you trying to kill us?" There was arguing back and forth for a moment.

"Teddy!" Sam called out, trying to get his nephew's attention.

"Sorry, Uncle Sam. Er – "

"Why are you driving?"

"I was just about to tell you. You – uh, remember how Harry agreed to stay here?"

"Of course," Sam said. "And hasn't he?"

"Not exactly."

He didn't offer anything more. "Teddy… where is Harry?"

"Well, the good news is that he didn't make it all the way out to you. He stole a motorbike and…"

"He stole a motorcycle? Does he even know how to drive one?" Sam could feel his anger rising to the surface. He didn't understand why Harry couldn't just stay put. Things were bad enough as they were.

"Erm, I guess. Look, he didn't get far. Gran and I are headed to him now. He's at a police station in Wall, Nebraska."

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. This wasn't Teddy's fault. Probably. He'd have to get the full story later.

"Go back to the Bunker, Teddy," he commanded in a no-nonsense voice.

"But – "

"No. The Bunker is safe. Look – there's more going on here than it appears and we can't risk something happening to you too."

Teddy made some protesting sounds before another voice came onto the phone. "Sam?"

"Mrs. Weasley," Sam said, recognizing the voice immediately.

"Molly," she corrected gently. "Edward is driving right now and I hardly trust him to drive this…machine. What is happening?" This was considerably less gentle.

"It's a long story," Sam said. "And I promise we'll fill you in as soon as possible. But Teddy is in danger. As are you. Things are…well, we're not exactly sure, but both Heaven and Hell could be hunting Harry again now that…now that things are the way that they are, and we can't risk having the two of you being collateral damage." Sam prayed it was enough. "Please Mrs…Molly."

"Alright, Samuel," she said. "We'll return to the Bunker. But I want a full explanation when you get back. And when you see Harry, tell him I am very displeased with him."

Sam couldn't help but shudder a little bit at that. "You're not the only one," he replied. "But I will."

"Stay safe, Sam." She hung up.

III

"What the hell was that?" Sirius asked, furious that this little poncey git had whisked him away so quickly. He wanted to be sure that Sam and Dean were safe from Lucifer. And now they were…well. "Where are we?"

"Relax, mutt," Crowley said, moving towards his bar cart. "We're at my residence. And I just saved your life. So, you're welcome."

"Saved my life?"

"Yeah. You think that the Winchesters would have let you live after what you did to Feathers? I've seen them kill people for far less. Even I had a soft spot for the halo. Thankfully, I'm not sentimental like they are."

"He killed Harry!"

Crowley poured himself a generous drink. He had earned it, after all. "That he did. But all's well that ends well and Moose and Squirrel are not going to see eye-to-eye with you on that one. Not even sure having Dudley Do-Right on your side's going to save your arse in the end."

Sirius knew that most purebloods of his generation would not have gotten those references, but he remembered many a day of sneaking off the muggle neighbor's house to watch morning cartoons. Mostly because he knew how much it would have infuriated his mother had she ever found out. However, knowing the reference wasn't exactly helpful.

"The King of Hell has seen Rocky and Bullwinkle?" was the question he came up with.

"Of course," Crowley said nonchalantly. "I don't live under a rock."

Sirius shook his head. "Whatever. What does a kid's show have to do with why any of this?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Squirrel is the elder Winchester. Moose is – "

"Sam," Sirius could see the resemblance. "But – "

"Dudley Do-Right. You know – the dimwitted hero that made a couple of cameos on the main show."

Sirius was still not following.

Crowley sighed deeply and finished his drink. "What would it take to get someone with some intelligence around here?" He groused. "Harry Potter – sometimes known as Henry Winchester. The dumbass that has to come in and save his brothers' sorry hides. Even if he was at full capacity right now – which he is not, I don't know that he can save you."

"Not at…" Sirius felt like his mind was going in a million different directions. Gabriel had promised him that he would take him to Harry. He had assumed that meant that he would, at last, be able to join his godson in Heaven but… "he's not dead?"

"Boy, someone hasn't been getting the Christmas cards. No. Harry Potter lives again to be a permanent thorn in all of our sides in the great Winchester tradition. Now – "

"You've got to take me to him," Sirius said, suddenly desperate.

"Holy Hell," Crowley said. "What part of Sam and Dean want to kill you don't you understand? I take you to Harry, they won't be far behind. Moron," he added for good measure.

"I don't care! I want to – "

Crowley stopped listening. Gryffindors, he thought. They're all the same.

What he had seen in Limbo had changed everything. His plan to close the Gates of Hell came to a crashing halt. There wasn't a worst time for him to decrease the number of demons here on Earth. He was going to need all the demons he could get his hands on. And they were going to have to be loyal to him.

Crowley thought that in his hundreds of years of experience he had seen everything. That there was nothing new on this plane or any other. No new challenges. Nothing that he couldn't outsmart. He had bested the Devil but now he had bigger problems.

As always, he was going to have to depend on the Winchesters. This was no longer about keeping power in Hell – it was preserving what was to prevent something worst. And what was currently in Limbo would be worst. Of course, it's not like he could come straight out with it. No, as always, he was going to have to rely on his wits to keep the Winchesters on the path that he knew was for the best. But he needed them to think it was their idea. Maybe that meant being the villain again. It was a role he was comfortable with, after all.

Sirius Black had a part to play in this all. So, as the wizard continued to rant and rave, Crowley began to plot and plan.

Helllllloooo friends! I'm back. Have you missed me?! I've missed y'all. I am not quite as far along in this story as I would have liked to have been at this point (I'm only about five chapters ahead, instead of ten) so I may need to take a break at some point to catch up, but I hope not! My muse has been on FIRE since I went to the SPN con in DC and DragonCon.

Gabriel's comment about sexuality caused a bit of a stir in my Discord server – more than I thought it would. I hope that no one here is horribly offended – although I don't think that Gabe would hope the same thing as he lives to offend. And he does live. I realize that was unclear at the end of the last chapter, but I would warn y'all before I killed a major character like him off. Similarly, Cas is not permanently dead. Just like in the show, he'll be back.

This is the last installment of this extremely long fic. We'll go down some dark paths but it will be a happy ending. I will be throwing canon out of the window – especially the deeper into this season we go. The current plan is to not move past the timeline of Season 13.

As always, I deeply appreciate you reading and treasure your comments and reviews. I'm excited to bring this story to an end.