Cas had apparently taken Dean very seriously about not showing his face unless he found another way to defeat Satan. There was no sign of the angel at all for the next several weeks. Mack's burn had healed up as nicely as it could, leaving her with a nasty scab outlined with pink, puckered skin in the shape of a hand. Luckily, between Cas's attempt to heal her and Dean's constant care, they were optimistic that the scars would most likely go away in a couple of months.

They'd gotten a call from Martin Creaser, an old hunting buddy of John's that had landed himself in the looney bin a couple years back. He wanted their help hunting a wraith that he was certain was terrorizing the psych ward. So, Sam and Dean went to help, leaving Mack behind with Bobby. They managed to find and kill the wraith, but it got pretty dicey. Sam was nearly fed on before Dean got in and saved him. The case after that was a little weirder.

A couple of teenagers had gotten their hands on a real spellbook and were doing witchcraft. One of the teens swapped bodies with Sam for over twenty-four hours before Dean got them to reverse the spell. Another one of the teens summoned the demon they were working for beforehand and together, the teen in Sam's body and Dean managed to exorcise it. After, Anna appeared to Dean in a dream, claiming Cas had turned her in and had her locked away in Heaven's prison and that he needed to meet her right away.

"Dean, we should call Cas. Tell him about it," Sam tried to reason with his brother. "No. I told him I didn't want to see him unless he found a way to stop the devil. Besides, it's fine. We'll just go and see what's what," Dean shrugged. "It's just Anna."

"You shouldn't go, Dean."

Dean jumped, spinning around to face the angel that had just appeared in the motel room. "Cas!" Mack cried excitedly, running over to hug him. "Hello, little one," he said, then looked back up at Dean. "So, does this mean you found something?" Dean asked, folding his arms over his chest as he glowered. "I'm still working on it," Cas replied. "I don't want you going to meet Anna."

"Why the hell not?"

"Angels don't just escape from Heaven's prison. If she's out, then it can't mean anything good," Cas explained. "Give me the address. I'll go see for myself what she wants."

"Really? Anna? I don't believe it," Dean shook his head, still pacing. Cas had returned claiming Anna wanted to kill Sam. He was now drawing symbols on the table in chalk and Mack sat with Sam on the far bed. "It's true," Cas insisted, focused on his work. "So, she's gone all Glenn Close, huh? That's awesome." Cas straightened up, staring at Dean in confusion. "Who's Glenn Close?" he asked. Dean walked over closer to his brother and daughter. "No one, just this psycho chick who likes to boil rabbits."

"So the plan to kill me, would it actually stop Satan?" All eyes went to Sam in shock. "No, Sam, come on," Dean protested. Sam glanced at Dean and then back at Cas. "Cas, what do you think? Does Anna have a point?" Dean rounded on the angel, giving his best If you say yes I'll kill you glare, and Cas swallowed. "No," he said. "She's, uh, Glenn Close." He went back to drawing with the chalk and Sam looked down. Mack reached out, putting her hand on Sam's knee. He covered her hand with his own, smiling at her.

"I don't get it," Dean said as Cas was finishing the spell. "We're looking for the chick who wants to gank Sam? Why poke the bear?" Cas looked up at him. "Anna will keep trying. She won't give up until Sam is dead. So we kill her first." He began chanting as he poured oil into a bowl on the table. The bowl shot up red flames and Mack shrunk closer to her uncle. Cas stepped away from the table, leaning on the back of a chair, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Sam and Dean both looked over at him worriedly. "I found her."

"Where is she?" Dean pressed. "Now where, when." Cas straightened. "It's nineteen seventy-eight." Sam stood up, walking over beside Dean. "What? Why nineteen seventy-eight? I wasn't even born yet."

"You won't be, if she kills your parents."

"What?" Sam asked. Cas walked over to him and Dean. "Anna can't get to you because of me. So she's going after them." Dean was freaking out… He wasn't born yet in '78 either… If Anna succeeded and killed their parents, not only would neither of them exist, but Mack wouldn't either and that couldn't happen. "Take us back right now," he demanded. "And deliver you right to Anna? I should go alone."

"They're our parents. Cas, we're going."

"It's not that easy," Cas replied, stepping away. "Why not?" Sam asked. "Time travel is difficult even with the powers of Heaven at my disposal," the angel explained. "Which got cut off," Sam finished. "So, what, you're like a Delorean without enough plutonium?" Dean quipped. "I don't understand that reference. But I'm telling you, taking this trip, with passengers no less-" Cas shook his head. "It'll weaken me."

"They're our mom and dad," Dean growled. "If we can save them, and not just from Anna… I mean, if we can set things right, we have to try." Cas shook his head with a sigh. A little while later, after getting the supplies they needed to stop Anna, they were ready to go. Dean held Mack as Cas stepped forward. "Bend your knees," he warned Sam. Sam ducked down a little as Cas touched both him and Dean.

Suddenly, the three Winchesters were standing in the middle of a street. Sam and Dean looked around as a car honked, stopping inches from them. "Get out of the street!" the driver yelled angrily. They hurried toward the sidewalk, nearly getting hit by a second car along the way. "Did we make it?" Sam asked. Dean set Mack down, keeping a firm grip on her hand and pointed to a nearby parked car. "Unless they're bringing Pintos back into production, I, uh, I'd say yes."

Dean noticed Cas, then, collapsed against the nearest car with blood coming from his nose. He let go of Mack's hand, rushing over. "Cas?" Sam asked, grabbing Mack's hand himself and coming over. "Hey," Dean said, crouching down in front of the angel. "Take it easy. Take it easy. Are you alright?" Cas groaned, sitting up. "I'm fine. I'm much better than I expected." Dean started to help him up, but Cas spit out some blood and passed out. "Cas?" Sam put his hand in front of Cas's mouth. "He's breathing. Sort of. What do we do?"

Twenty minutes later, Dean came back from getting Cas settled in a motel. "So, I paid for Cas for five nights up in the, uh, honeymoon suite. I told the manager, 'Do not disturb no matter what.' You know what he said to me? 'Yeah. Don't sweat it. Want to buy some dope?'" Sam snorted and Dean shook his head. "Dope. We ought to stick around here, buy some stock in Microsoft."

"Yeah, we might have to if Cas doesn't recover," Sam sighed. "Is he okay?" Mack piped up, looking up at her father worriedly. "Yeah, bug, he'll be fine. He's gonna wake up. He's, you know, tough for a little nerdy dude with wings." Sam nodded in agreement, "If he landed like that, hopefully, so did Anna. Should buy us some time."

"So did you find 'em?"

"Yeah. Uh, the Winchesters. Four-eight-five Robintree," Sam nodded. "Let's go pop in on the folks," Dean grinned. They hijacked a car, heading to the house after dark that night. As they were approaching the house, Dean stopped Sam. "Sam. Sam. Wait. Wait. Wait." Sam looked back at his brother and niece. "Dean, Anna could be here any second," he pointed out. "What exactly are we gonna march up there and tell 'em?"

"Uh, the truth."

"What, that their sons and granddaughter are back from the future to save them from an angel? Gone Terminator? Come on. Those movies haven't even come out yet," Dean finished pointedly. "Well, then tell her demons are after 'em," Sam shrugged. "I mean, she thinks you're a hunter, right?" Dean nodded, "Yeah, a hunter who disappeared right when her dad died. She's gonna love me." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Just follow my lead." They headed up to the door, and rang the doorbell. Mary answered it a moment later.

"Hi, Mary," Dean greeted her. "You can't be here," Mary hissed quietly. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time," he apologized. "You don't understand. I'm not-" she cut off, noticing the way Sam was staring at her. "I don't do that anymore," she told them. "I have a normal life now. You have to go." She moved to close the door, but Dean held out an arm to stop her. "I'm sorry, but this is important, okay?" John cleared his throat, swinging the door open wider as he came to stand beside Mary. Sam and Dean's posture both immediately changed and Mack looked up at her father curiously.

"Sorry, sweetie, they're just…" Mary began, but Dean cut her off. "Mary's cousins." Mary smiled awkwardly, but didn't contradict the statement. "Yeah, we couldn't stop by without swinging by and saying 'hey', now, could we?" Dean held his hand out for John to shake. "Dean," he introduced himself. "You look familiar," John told him, taking the proffered hand. "Really? Yeah, you do, too, actually, you know? We must have met sometime. Small towns, right? Gotta love 'em."

"I'm John," he held out his hand to Sam, who stared for a moment before taking it. "This is Sam," Dean supplied. "Sam. Uh, Mary's father was a Sam." Sam smiled, nodding. "Uh, it's a- it's a family name," Dean said. Sam still had a firm grip on John's hand. "You okay, pal? You look a little spooked." Sam dropped his hand, "Oh. Oh, yeah. Just a… long trip."

"And what's your name?" John asked, grinning down at Mack in between the two brothers. "I'm Mack," she answered timidly, clinging to Dean. "She's my daughter," Dean told him. "Well, they were just on their way out," Mary gave Dean a pointed look. "What? They just got here," John looked over at his wife. "Real happy to meet folks from Mary's side. Please, come in for a beer."

"Twist my arm," Dean grinned cockily, earning a glare from Mary. They entered the house, settling into the living room to talk. Sam couldn't keep his eyes off of Mary and it was clear the attention was freaking her out a little. "Are you sure you're okay, Sam?" John asked him. "W-oh," Sam started, nodding. "Yeah, yeah. Um, I'm just, um- You're so beautiful." John leaned forward in his seat warily. "He means that in a- a non-weird, wholesome, family kind of way," Dean defended his brother. "Yeah, right," Sam agreed, seeing his error.

"We haven't seen Mary in- in quite some time," Dean stammered, "and- See, she's a spitting image of our mom. I mean, it's- it's-" Sam finished, "Eerie." There was an awkward silence and then John spoke. "So, how are you guys related?" Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "You know, uh, distantly," Dean shrugged. "Oh. So you knew Mary's parents?" John pressed. "Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Mary's dad was, uh, pretty much like a grandpa to us."

"Oh. That was tragic- that heart attack," John reached over and took his wife's hand. "Yes, it was," Dean agreed. "So, what are you guys doing in town, anyway?" Dean swallowed, "Uh, business, you know." John nodded. "Oh yeah? What kind of work?"

Sam and Dean spoke over each other.

"Plumbing."

"Scrap metal."

Mary stood up abruptly, "Oh, gosh. It's almost seven. I hate to be rude, but I got to get dinner ready." Everyone else stood up slowly. "Maybe they could stay," John suggested. "I'm sure they have to leave," Mary shook her head. The phone started to ring in the other room. "Uh, look. Please stay," John told them. "You know, it would mean a lot to me. I haven't met much of Mary's side." He hurried off to answer the phone and Mary glared at Dean. "You have to leave. Now."

"Okay, just listen-" he started in defense. "No, you listen," she hissed. "Last time I saw you, a demon killed my parents. Now you waltz in here like you're family? Whatever you want- no. Leave me alone." She turned away to leave, but Sam stopped her. "You and John are in danger." She turned back, "What are you talking about?"

"Something's coming after you," Dean told her vaguely. "Demon?" she asked. "Not exactly," he shook his head. "Well, what, then?" Dean hesitated. "It's kind of hard to explain, okay? It's- it's-"

"It's an angel," Sam told her. "There's no such thing," Mary laughed. "I wish," Dean sighed. "But they're twice as strong as demons. And bigger dicks." Mary stared at him for a long moment. "If it's so dangerous, why'd you bring a kid along with you?" Dean glanced at Mack, who'd been quiet ever since they'd arrived. "I couldn't leave her by herself," he looked back at Mary. "Her mother-" Dean shook his head, glancing down and back up at her. Mary swallowed, looking at Mack and back at Dean. "Why would an angel want to kill us?"

"It's a long story, and we'll tell you the whole thing, but right now, you've got to trust us, and we got to go. Look at my face and tell me I'm lying to you." Mother and son stared into each other's eyes. "Okay. Where do we go?" she finally gave in. "Out of here. We got to move now, though." Mary nodded, "Okay. But what do I tell John?"

"Just tell him-" Dean paused, realizing it had been quiet in the hall for a while. "John?" They moved into the hallway, and Mary grabbed a note written by the phone: Back in 15 -J.

John Winchester walked through the garage where he worked. It was dark and no one else was around. "Mr. Woodson? You still here?" he called out. He turned on a light, seeing his boss lying on the ground face down. John turned him over to find his eyes had been burnt out. He backed away, turning to find Anna right behind him. She grabbed him and flung him into a tall shelf, which fell over. Anna watched John get up, her vision doubling and blurry. She blinked and John hit her with a crowbar. She sprawled on the floor, but stood a moment later, flinging John into a car. When she turned, Dean was standing there with an angel blade. She grabbed his wrist and neck and Dean tried to pry her hand away from his neck.

"I wish I could say it's good to see you Anna," he told her. "You too, Dean," she replied. Anna sent him flying out a window. Mary picked up the discarded angel blade, twirling it to get a better grip as she advanced on the angel. John looked up, noticing how Mary was fighting like an expert. Mary slashed at Anna, cutting her hand. Anna ducked as Mary swung again and the angel vanished. Mary looked around, and Anna appeared behind her. When Mary struck a third time, Anna caught her.

"I'm sorry," Anna apologized, sending Mary into a windshield. Mary crawled over the car, away from Anna, as the angel advanced slowly. Mary slid off the car, stumbled to a bench, grabbed a crowbar, turned around, and drove it into Anna's chest. Nothing happened, and Mary stared with wide eyes as Anna pulled out the bloody crowbar and dropped it. "Sorry. It's not that easy to kill an angel."

"No," Sam piped up from behind her. He was standing with a bloody palm next to an angel banishing sigil. "But you can distract 'em." Sam pressed his palm to the sigil, which burned as Anna vanished more permanently. Mary caught her breath, then noticed the way John was staring at her.

"Monsters," John said. "Monsters?" They were all riding in the Impala, John behind the wheel, Sam behind him, Mary sitting shotgun, Dean behind her and Mack in between her father and uncle in the back. "Yes," Mary confirmed. "Monsters are real," he repeated incredulously. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how-" Mary began to defend herself. "And you fight them?" John cut her off. "All of you?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "How long?" John glared over at his wife. "All my life. John, just try to understand-" Mary was cut off by Dean. "She didn't exactly have a choice-"

"Shut up, all of you!" John yelled. "Look, not another word, or so help me, I will turn this car around!" An awkward silence filled the car and Dean leaned over to Sam. "Wow. Awkward family road trip," he chuckled under his breath. "No kidding," Sam muttered back. They ended up going to Mary's old house. She led the way inside, flipping on a lightswitch as she passed it. It was clear the place hadn't been stepped foot in in a while from how ill-maintained it was.

"Place has been in the family for years," she told them. She flipped up a round carpet, revealing a, "Devil's trap. Pure iron fixtures, of course." She flipped on another switch. "Um, there should be salt and holy water in the pantry, knives, guns." Sam shook his head, "All that stuff will do is piss it off." Mary seemed surprised. "So, what will kill it? Or slow it down, at least?"

"Not much." Mary laughed. "He said not much, not nothing," Dean defended Sam. "We packed." He thumped a duffel bag down on the table and rummaged through it. "If we put this up and she comes close," Dean held up a paper of the angel banishing sigil, "we beam her right off the starship."

"Mm."

"This is holy oil," Sam said, taking out a jar. "It's kind of like a, like a devil's trap for angels. Come on. I'll show you how it works." He exited the room and after glancing at John, his mother followed him. Dean continued to grab supplies out of the duffel bag while Mack sat nearby, watching. "Hey, what's the deal with the thing on the paper?" John asked, stepping forward. "It's a sigil," Dean explained. "That means-"

"I don't care what it means. Where does it go?"

"On a wall. Or a door," Dean swallowed. "How big should I make it?" Dean sighed, looking over at his father. "John-" John glared. "What? Y'all might have treated me like a fool, but I am not useless. I can draw a damn-" he picked up the paper from next to a large knife, "-whatever it is- a sigil." Mack tilted her head, noticing the way her father tensed up and acted differently around John. "Why don't you go help Sam out?" Dean suggested. "'Cause this has got to be done in… it's got to be done in human blood." John picked up the knife, unsheathing it and slicing open his own palm. "So, how big?" he asked sternly. Dean paused, "I'll show you."

He laughed, taking the piece of paper with the banishing sigil on it. "What?" John asked him. "All of a sudden, you… you really remind me of my dad. Mack, stay put." She nodded, looking over at John with a mixture of worry and fear as soon as Dean turned his back. She'd started reading the 'Supernatural' books whenever she was stuck at Bobby's while her father and Sam were on the road and was grateful she hadn't been old enough to remember John while he was still alive. Seeing him now, and observing the way Sam and Dean acted around him, just solidified that in her mind.

Dean went in to check on Mary while she was pouring the holy oil. "Okay. You said you'd explain when we have a minute," she reminded him. "We have a minute. Why does an angel want me dead?" Dean swallowed, "'Cause they're dicks." Mary laughed. "Not good enough. I didn't even know they existed, and now I'm a target?" Dean hesitated, not knowing where to begin. "It's complicated," he tried copping out. "Fine," Mary stood, spreading her arms. "All ears." He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "You're just gonna have to trust me, okay?"

"I've been trusting you all day," she pointed out. "It's kind of hard to believe," he tried again. "Alright, then. I'm walking out the door." She turned to go and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm your son." When he opened them again, Mary had turned back, staring at him incredulously. "What?" she whispered. "I'm your son," he repeated. "Sorry. I don't know how else to say it. We're from the year two thousand and ten. An angel zapped us back here. Not the one that attacked you, friendlier."

"You can't expect me to believe that."

"Our names are Dean and Sam Winchester. We're named after your parents. Mack is your granddaughter. When I would get sick, you would make me tomato-rice soup, because that's what your mom made you. And instead of a lullaby, you would sing 'Hey Jude' because that's your favorite Beatles song." Mary shook her head, crying. "I… I don't believe it. No."

"I'm sorry, but it's true," Dean insisted. "I raised my kids to be hunters?" she asked, voice breaking. "No," he told her vehemently. "No, you didn't." She wasn't listening. "How could I do that to you?" Dean stepped closer to her, an apologetic look written on his face. "You didn't do it. Because you're dead." Mary's eyes widened. "What? What happened?" she asked. "Yellow-eyed demon. He killed you, and-" Dean glanced back at the doorway. "John became a hunter to get revenge. He raised us in this life. Listen to me. A demon comes into Sam's nursery exactly six months after he's born. November second, nineteen eighty-three. Remember that date. And whatever you do, do not go in there. You wake up that morning and you take Sam and you run."

"That's not good enough, Dean," Sam said, coming into the room. "Wherever she goes, the demon's gonna find her. Find me." Dean looked at his brother desperately. "Then what?" Sam set his jaw, mouth drawn in a thin line. "She can leave Dad. That's what," he looked over at Mary. "You got to leave John."

"What?" Mary shook her head. "When this is all over, walk away, and never look back," Sam said. "So we're never born," Dean nodded, looking at their mother as well. "He's right." He hated to admit it, considering if they weren't born, then Mack wouldn't be born either, but it was the only way. "I- I can't. You're saying you're my children, that that little girl in the other room is my granddaughter, and now you're saying-"

"You have no other choice," Dean insisted. "There's a big difference between dying and never being born. And trust me, we're okay with it, I promise you that." Mary swallowed. "Okay, well, I'm not," she shook her head again. "Listen," Sam said, "you think you can have that normal life that you want so bad, but you can't. I'm sorry. It's all gonna go rotten. You are gonna die, and your children will be cursed." She continued to shake her head in denial. "There- there has to be a way."

"No, this is the way. Leave John," Sam pressed. "I can't," Mary insisted. "This is bigger than us. There are so many more lives at stake-" He was cut off. "You don't understand. I can't." Mary paused, breathing deeply. "It's too late. I'm… I'm pregnant." Dean. The brothers took a moment to absorb the words as Mack and John came into the room. "Hey, we got a problem," John informed them. "The blood things, the sigils- they're gone."

"Gone as in…" Sam trailed off. "I drew one on the back door. I turned around. And when I looked back again, it was a smudge." Dean went to look, coming back to confirm, "He's right." Mary crouched down, touching the spot where she'd just poured holy oil minutes ago. "There's no more holy oil," she looked up at them all. Mack hurried over, clutching her dad's leg and he put a hand on her head to comfort her. Just then, the high-pitched sound of an angel's voice started. Sam drew an angel blade and everyone covered their ears. The windows and lightbulbs shattered, plunging the room into darkness.

When the ringing stopped, the door flew open and there was a sound of angel's wings as a new angel appeared. "Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded. "I'm Uriel," the angel replied. Mack whimpered, hiding further behind Dean as he groaned. "Oh, come on." Sam looked at Mary and John. "Go," he instructed. Anna was blocking the other exit. "Here goes nothin'," Dean said. Dean attacked Uriel while Sam went after Anna. Mary hurried over to Mack, talking to her quietly. "Run to the other room. It'll be okay. Go."

"Okay," Mack nodded. While everyone was distracted fighting, she made her way quietly around the perimeter of the room, making her way to the exit. Uriel and Anna had thrown the brothers aside. John went for the angel blade Sam had dropped, but Anna blocked it and threw John through the wall into the backyard. "John!" Mary cried. Sam went for the blade, but Anna ripped a fixture from the wall and stabbed him. "Sammy!" Dean yelled. Sam slumped to the floor, dead. "Sam!" Anna turned to face Mary.

"I'm really sorry," she apologized. "Anna." She turned, facing John, whose voice sounded deeper when he spoke. "Michael," she greeted him. Michael put his hand on her shoulder, and she burst into flames, screaming. Mary stared in shock as Michael turned to Uriel. "Michael. I didn't know," Uriel tried defending himself. "Goodbye, Uriel." Michael snapped his fingers and Uriel disappeared. "What did you do to John?" Mary asked. "John is fine," Michael assured her. "Who- what are you?"

"Shh…" Michael touched Mary's forehead and she fell unconscious to the ground. Mack peered into the room from the doorway as the archangel turned to face Dean. "Well, I'd say this conversation is long overdue, wouldn't you?" Dean pointed at Sam angrily. "Fix him," he snarled. "First… we talk. Then I'll fix your darling little Sammy," Michael replied. "How'd you get in my dad, anyway?" Dean asked him. "I told him I could save his wife, and he said yes."

"I guess they oversold me being your one and only vessel," Dean scoffed. "You're my true vessel but not my only one," the archangel corrected. "What is that supposed to mean?" Michael smirked. "It's a bloodline."

"A bloodline?"

"Stretching back to Cain and Abel. It's in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood," Michael explained. "Awesome. Six degrees of Heaven Bacon. What do you want with me?" Dean noticed Mack watching in the doorway over Michael's shoulder, but didn't say anything to draw attention to her. "You really don't know the answer to that?" Michael queried. "Well, you know I ain't gonna say yes, so why are you here? What do you want with me?!"

"I just want you to understand what you and I have to do," the archangel explained. "Oh, I get it. You got beef with your brother. Well, get some therapy, pal. Don't take it out on my planet!" Michael shook his head. "You're wrong. Lucifer defied our father, and he betrayed me. But still… I don't want this any more than you would want to kill Sam." He turned to pace away from Dean a few steps and spotted Mack. "Mm. You've been marked by Lucifer, haven't you, child?" Mack glanced down at her arm, which was covered in a light brown leather jacket to hide her scar. "Leave her out of this," Dean snarled.

"I'm afraid she became a part of this the second Lucifer laid his hands on her," Michael mused. "What does that mean?" Dean asked. "You know, my brother, I practically raised him," Michael continued on, ignoring the question. "I took care of him in a way most people could never understand, and I still love him." He turned back to look at Dean. "But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to." Dean was fuming by then. "Oh, because God says so?" he growled. "Yes. From the beginning, he knew this was how it was going to end."

"And you're just gonna do whatever God says?" Dean glowered. "Yes, because I am a good son," Michael replied. "Okay, well, trust me, pal. Take it from someone who knows- that is a dead-end street. Now tell me how my daughter factors into this." Michael regarded him for a moment. "You think you know better than my father? One unimportant little man. What makes you think you get to choose?" Dean clenched his fists at his sides, setting his jaw in frustration, but did what Michael was refusing to do and answered the question. "Because I got to believe that I can choose what I do with my unimportant little life."

"You're wrong. You know how I know?" Michael turned to look over at Mary and Sam, then looked back at Dean again. "Think of a million random acts of chance that let John and Mary be born, to meet, to fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it's not random. It's not chance. It's a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will's an illusion, Dean. That's why you're going to say yes. Oh, buck up. It could be worse. You know, unlike my brothers, I won't leave you a drooling mess when I'm done wearing you."

"What about my dad?"

"Better than new," Michael assured him. "In fact, I'm gonna do your mom and dad a favor." Dean eyed him suspiciously. "What?" The archangel smiled. "Scrub their minds. They won't remember me or you." Dean shook his head. "You can't do that." If Michael did that, then his warning to his mother would be for nothing. "I'm just giving your mother what she wants," Michael said. "She can go back to her husband, her family-"

"She's gonna walk right into that nursery!" Dean cried desperately. "Obviously," Michael scoffed, turning away. "And you always knew that was going to play out one way or another. You can't fight City Hall." He walked over to Sam, putting two fingers to his forehead. Sam vanished and the pipe that Anna stabbed him with fell to the floor. Michael straightened up. "He's home. Safe and sound. Your turn. See you soon, Dean."

"Wait-" Dean protested, but Michael had already pressed his fingers to his forehead. The angel then turned to Mack. "It's okay, Mckinley. I won't hurt you. Let's get you home." Mack hesitantly left the shelter of the doorway to walk toward the angel. "Why wouldn't you tell my daddy what's going to happen to me?" she asked him curiously. Michael inhaled deeply, staring down at her. "Everything will be revealed in time, child. Farewell."

He put two fingers to her forehead gently, sending her back home.