Castiel was struggling. Even after gaining the Heavenly weapons from Balthazar, he was still losing the war to Raphael. He was tired, losing hope, and wished more than anything he could be on Earth with Dean and Mckinley. He could not afford to lose the war, not with everything he had staked on winning. Lying to the Winchesters, working with Crowley to get the souls from Purgatory… The weight of all he'd done threatened to crush him. Needing a new tactic, he made another drastic decision. In order to get more souls fast, he called Balthazar and gave him the order to un-sink the Titanic.

Sam and Dean peered in at Bobby from the door of the study. The old man had barely left the spot at his desk or stopped drinking since Rufus died. "Say something," Sam whispered. "No. You," Dean whispered back. "No. You." The brothers launched into a game of rock-paper-scissors, Sam picking paper and Dean picking scissors as always. Sam blinked, stunned for a moment, then opened his mouth. "Uh…" he cleared his throat. "You two just gonna stand there like the ugly girl at the prom, or you gonna pitch in?" Bobby snapped. "This so-called Eve, mother of whatever, ain't gonna gank herself. What's wrong with you two?"

"Bobby, you haven't slept in days," Dean reminded him. "I sleep. What are you, my wife now?" Dean frowned, "I'm just saying that, you know, taking five might be a good thing." Bobby glared across the study at him. "For whom?" he snapped. "Look, Bobby, it was- it was tough for all of us, seeing Rufus go like that," Sam interjected. "You think this-? This ain't about Rufus." Both brothers looked skeptical at that. "Bobby, he wasn't just a poker buddy," Dean pointed out softly. "You know when I knew Rufus was done for? The day I met him. The only question was, who first- him or me? Now, you want to stand there and therapize, or you want to get me some more coffee?" Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Make it Irish."

They turned, heading over to the kitchen counter. "Well he's doing fantastic," Dean hissed. "Yeah, this isn't about Rufus at all," Sam shot back sarcastically. "Well, what do you want to do? I mean, we can't just sit here and watch him poop out his liver." Sam frowned, "Well, we could get him out of the house. There's a job."

"Really? What've you got?"

Sam pulled a newspaper clipping out of his jacket pocket. "Look. Chester, Pennsylvania. Three people got kicked off in the last week. Last guy got karate-chopped by his garage door. And these are all blood relatives." Dean studied the newspaper clipping pensively. "What are you thinking, family curse?" he asked. "Could be," Sam shrugged. "Hey, grumpy-" Dean yelled, then realized Bobby had come up behind them and lowered his voice, "you, uh-"

"I don't want to do crap," Bobby grumbled. "Leave me alone. Just, get out of my house, both of you. Driving me nuts." Dean tried to protest, "Bobby." The old man glared at them. "Now! For the love of Pete." Sam took the clipping back from Dean and they headed out of the house to their trusty black Mustang with brown racing stripes. As Dean threw his bag into the backseat, he paused, frowning. He had the oddest sense that something was off. Like he was forgetting something. He shook it off, climbing behind the wheel.

"You know, maybe we should wait 'til she gets back," Sam suggested from his place in the passenger seat. "Dude, she just called from the road, said she'd be here in two shakes. You really want to sit around and smell him stew in his juices?" Sam made a face. "Yeah, yeah. Drive." Dean glanced in the rearview, getting that same odd feeling, and then shook his head and drove out of Bobby's scrapyard.

Greenville, South Carolina

Mckinley Hudson trudged up the front walkway up to the small one-story home, afraid of what she'd find inside. Her mother tended to be doing one of two things at this point in the day: popping pills and drinking her happy juice or getting frisky with her man-of-the-week. Neither option was fun to return to. Adjusting the straps of her backpack, she squared her shoulders and headed into the house. From the silence, she guessed today would be an option one day.

Sighing, she headed into the kitchen as quietly as she could. After setting her backpack at the table, she got in the pantry to find herself something to eat. Grabbing a bag of chips, she settled in to do her homework. Five minutes later, Andrea made an appearance. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "School ended, Mom," Mack replied, keeping her focus on her work. "I'm home for the day."

"Uch," Andrea wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Honestly, I don't understand why they can't keep you there all day. Would make my job so much easier." Mack swallowed, trying not to let her mother's words sting. "It's school, Mom, not daycare. And I'm almost eight, so I'm too old for daycare, anyway."

"I'm too old for daycare, anyway," Andrea mocked in a whiny voice. She headed over to the fridge, grabbing a half-empty bottle of wine. "Screw that bastard father of yours for getting me pregnant," she spat, pouring a fair amount into a glass. "I didn't ask for a kid. I didn't want kids." Mack continued to focus on her homework, attempting to tune out her mother's ramblings. When the wine came out, she found it was best not to interrupt. "Do you know why I didn't want kids, Mckinley?"

Mack glanced sidelong at her mom. "Because kids are too much work and they distract from what's really important in life." Andrea nodded, "Because kids are too much work and they distract from what's really important in life. Precisely." She downed half the glass, then refilled it to the brim. Mack wished she had the courage to ask about her father. She'd done it once and Andrea had blown up and gotten insanely angry at her for it. She'd locked herself in the bathroom and cried, all the while hearing her mother's screams and the sound of dishes and other things breaking as she raged about what a bastard that Dean Winchester was.

That was really the only thing she knew about her father: his name.

"I'll be in my room. Don't disturb me," Andrea announced, taking her full glass and the rest of the bottle of wine with her. "Wouldn't dream of it," Mack muttered as soon as she heard her mother's door shut. She put her pencil down, chewing her lip and staring at the wall, wondering how her life would be different if she'd grown up with her dad instead of her mom. Where would they live? Would he love her the way a parent was supposed to love their child? What job would he have? She refused to believe he was as bad as her mother claimed him to be.

She didn't know why, but she had the strangest feeling that if she had grown up with her father, she would be loved more than life itself.

Chester, Pennsylvania

Dean rolled the piece of gold thread he and Sam had found at the latest crime scene between his fingers. Another woman had died, but she didn't have the same familial ties as the other victims had. Sam was trying to find a connection on his laptop. "So, we found another piece of this, I don't know, shiny string," Dean spoke into his phone. "Oh, I was afraid of that," Ellen responded. He frowned, "Why? What's up?" She sighed, "Oh, these so-called accidents- we're seeing them nationwide. About seventy-five so far. I got Jo and her crew working on a cluster in California."

"Hey. Hey. Hey," Bobby protested something faintly in the background. "Blood relatives?" Dean asked. "Some yeah, some no," Ellen replied. "She's got about what you do- pile of bodies and a whole bunch of gold thread."

"So what's it mean?"

"I don't know. I got Bobby working on it right now." Dean furrowed his brow, glancing behind him like he was expecting someone to be there. Then he shook his head, refocusing. "How's he doing by the way?" he asked, standing up. "Oh, don't worry, I'm kicking his ass back to health and happiness." Bobby's voice carried through the speaker faintly again. "Who asked you to? To hell with you." Dean shook his head, looking back at the same spot where no one sat. "I heard that," he informed Ellen. "He'll be okay," she reassured him. "Are you okay?"

"Aw, honey, you're sweet. You know me. I just worry about you boys." Dean frowned at the spot, feeling like there should be someone else included with him and Sam, though he couldn't for the life of him think who. "Yeah, well. Alright, so, all these corpses, anything relate 'em?" Ellen hummed. "Well, actually, I did dig up one thing. I just don't know what to make of it."

"Hit me."

"Well, it's a weird one, and it was buried pretty deep, but Bobby and me were combing through the family trees, and we started seeing, well, the families all came over to America the same year," she explained. "Hmm," Dean hummed curiously. "Yeah. Nineteen twelve. But here's the real weird part. They all came over on the same boat." That was interesting. "Really?" he asked. "Yep," she confirmed. "Alright, so what's so special about the boat?"

"Nothing. It was a boat. It did what boats do," Ellen said in exasperation. "What was it called?" Dean pressed. "The Titanic. Did you ever hear of it?" Dean frowned, "No." Ellen sighed, "Yeah, me neither. I'll keep digging." Dean nodded, "Alright." He hung up. "Does the name Titanic ring a bell?" Sam frowned, "Titanic? No." He typed on his computer for a moment, then read what he found out loud. "The RMS Titanic was the largest passenger steamship in the world when it made its maiden voyage across the North Atlantic in nineteen twelve."

"So, what's the big friggin' deal? It's a ship. It sailed," Dean said. "Yeah, I don't know," Sam shrugged, reading further. "Um… Oh, it looks like there was a close call. Ship almost hit an iceberg." Dean still didn't understand what the big deal was. "Almost? So?" Sam continued, "So, uh, it looks like the first mate spotted it just in time."

"Good for him. Anything else?"

"Wait a second," Sam frowned, brow furrowed. "What?" Dean asked. "Uh, this first mate. Mr. I.P. Freeley." Dean snorted, "Well, that's not suspicious. You got a picture of old Freeley." He walked over to look at Sam's screen. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Sam scoffed. "Let's see," Dean looked, seeing a familiar face. "Balthazar."

The brothers summoned the angel to the motel room, determined to get some answers. "Boys, boys, boys," Balthazar smirked upon arrival. "Whatever can I do for you?" Dean glared at him, "We need to talk." The angel blinked. "Oh, you seem upset, Dean."

"The hell with the boat, Balthazar?"

"What boat?"

"The Titanic," Sam elaborated. Balthazar's mouth opened in understanding. "Oh. Ja. The Titanic. Yes, well, uh, it was meant to sink, and I saved it," he explained. "What?" Balthazar went on, "Well it was meant to bash into this iceberg thing and plunge into the briny deep with all this hoopla, and I saved it. Anything else I can answer for you?" Sam furrowed his brow, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you un-sink the ship?" Dean asked. "Oh, because I hated the movie," Balthazar grinned. "What movie?" The angel laughed. "Exactly." Sam was confused, "Wait, so you saved a cruise liner because-" Balthazar cut him off, "Because that God-awful Celine Dion song made me want to smite myself."

"Who's Celine Dion?" Nothing Balthazar was saying was making any sense. "Oh, she's a destitute lounge singer somewhere in Quebec, and let's keep it that way, please," the angel begged. "Okay, I didn't think that was possible. I thought you couldn't change history," Sam mentioned. "Oh, haven't you noticed? There's no rules, boys." The taller of the Winchesters scoffed. "Wow. The nerve on you. So you just, what, un-sunk a giant boat?"

"Oh, come on. I saved people. I thought you loved that kind of thing," Balthazar frowned. "Yeah, but now those people and their kids and their kids' kids, they must have interacted with- with so many other people, changed so much crap," Sam pointed out angrily. "You totally Butterfly-Affected history!" Dean made a face, "Dude. Dude. Rule one, no Kutcher references." Balthazar grimaced, "Ah, yes. Unfortunately, there's still an Ashton Kutcher. And you still averted the apocalypse, and there are still archangels. It's just the small details that are different, like you don't drive an Impala."

Sam and Dean both looked at him like he was insane. "Yes, yes. 'What's an Impala'? Trust me, it's not important. And, of course, Ellen and Jo are alive." Balthazar walked over to the counter, pouring himself a drink. "Ellen and Jo? What?" Dean asked. "Yes, they're supposed to be dead. You see, I save a boat, one thing leads to another, which leads to a thousand other things, and yada, yada, yada. To cut a long story short, they don't die in a massive explosion." The angel drank from his glass. "Speaking of which, where's the littlest one? She back at Bobby's?"

"W-what?" Dean asked. "What littlest one?" It was Balthazar's turn to look at Dean like he'd gone insane. "What do you mean, 'what littlest one'? Where is she?" Sam interrupted before Dean could ask anything else. "But now somebody is killing the descendents of the survivors." Balthazar looked at him, "And?"

"And that's maybe like fifty thousand people."

"And?"

"And we need to save as many as we can, but we need to know who's after 'em," Dean said. "Oh, uh, sorry, uh. You have me confused with the other angel- you know, the one in the dirty trench coat who's in love with you," Balthazar drank the rest of the alcohol in his glass. "Now, I'm going to ask one more time, and then I'm leaving. Where is Mckinley?"

"Who's Mckinley?"

Balthazar stared slack-jawed at Dean for a long moment, and then he just vanished without another word.

Heaven

"There may be a problem," Balthazar announced. Cas frowned, but didn't turn to face him. "What is it?" he queried. "Your boyfriend and his brother just summoned me… and they had no idea who I was talking about when I asked about Mckinley." That wasn't what he expected to hear at all. "What do you mean, they had no idea who Mckinley was? She exists in this timeline, I know she does," Cas turned. "Well, she may exist, but the Winchesters have never heard of her. When I asked them where she was, they asked who I was talking about."

Cas swallowed hard, mind working in overtime to come up with a new plan. The whole point of un-sinking the Titanic was to create more souls to use, but that was already proving to have caused problems. He could sense how the descendents of those saved were being killed off slowly by Atropos and her sisters. He also knew that there were a few small details that were different about this timeline, but he never imagined one of those details would be Sam and Dean forgetting Mack. "Cas?" Balthazar asked curiously.

"I'll be back." Cas disappeared without further explanation. He had to figure out what had caused the Winchesters to forget Mack. In order to do that, he needed to head back to the day in November of 2004 before he had been assigned to be Mack's guardian angel or be the one to pull Dean from Hell. The day that Andrea Hudson gave Mack to Dean to raise and then abandoned them.

November 2004

Cas landed outside the motel where John and Dean Winchester were staying during their hunt in Greenville, South Carolina. Invisible, he looked from the black Mustang with brown racing stripes to the motel room door. He could sense Dean in there, a flurry of emotions filling him. Cas sensed anger, fear, resentment all buried under a steady, calm sense of resignation. There was a job to do that Dean had to focus on regardless of his true feelings toward his father. It was 4:46, which meant in exactly two minutes, Andrea Hudson would be coming into the parking lot with Mack, a diaper bag and the manilla envelope of her legal information.

Cas waited there for two minutes, staying invisible the entire time. When 4:49 rolled around and there was no sign of Andrea or Mckinley, he began to get worried. At 4:53, he finally decided to take matters into his own hands to find out why they hadn't shown up. He went to Andrea's house, and what he found there made his heart stop in his chest. Andrea was passed out on the couch, a bottle of wine in her hand. An open bottle of pills sat on the floor beside her, tipped over and spilled out over the carpet. After checking and confirming that, yes, she was still alive, he followed the sound of the screaming baby.

Mckinley was in her crib, little arms and legs flailing as she screamed. Cas made himself visible, approaching the crib. "Hello there, bee," he greeted her. He reached into the crib, touching the side of her head. She was instantly healed of the diaper rash from her mother's neglect to change and tend to her properly, and he freshened her up using his powers as well. As soon as she was healed, she stopped screaming, instead staring up at him with wide hazel-green eyes. Those were her father's eyes. "This is why they don't know you," Cas murmured. "She never brought you to Dean in this reality, did she?"

He thought of the wine that he'd seen clutched in Andrea's hand- the brand didn't exist in the normal version of reality. It was a special brew, created by one of the descendents of the families Balthazar had saved on the Titanic. Stronger and sweeter than most other wines. That must be why Andrea never gave Mack up. She was addicted to the drink, and therefore missed spotting the Mustang at the motel like she'd spotted the Impala in the other timeline. "I'm so sorry, bee," he told the baby in the crib. "This is all my fault. I was selfish, and only wanted to create more souls for me to use in order to turn the tide on Raphael. I didn't think it would affect you in this way."

Mckinley gurgled in response, waving her tiny fist in the air. He put his finger in her hand, smiling as she latched onto it. "I'm sorry I took away your opportunity to be raised by your father," Cas told her. "I promise you, I will make this right. And I will find another way to defeat Raphael. No matter the cost." The baby gurgled again, almost like she knew what he had just vowed, even though she really had no clue. With new resolve, Cas left her there, going to find Balthazar and make him re-sink the ship. He would find another way.

Present Day

Sam and Dean awoke in the Impala, 'My Heart Will Go On' playing on the radio. "Dude, what time is it?" Sam groaned. "I-I just had the weirdest dream." Dean shook his head, "Twenty bucks says mine was weirder. I'm not kidding." Sam argued, "No, no, no. I'm not kidding, either. I-I mean, it was… just bizarre." Dean pressed on, "Mine had the actual Titanic in it." Sam stared at his brother in disbelief. "What? Something on my face?" Dean asked. "D-did it, uh… Not sink, because Balthazar-"

"-Had a hate on for Billy Zane?" Dean finished. "Why are you having my dreams, dude?" Sam glared, "Why are you having my dreams?" They stared at each other in silent disbelief. Unseen, Cas watched the brothers with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd erased the timeline from Mack's memory, so she wouldn't remember growing up with her mom instead of her dad, but he hadn't had time to erase Sam and Dean's memories as well when Balthazar re-sank the ship. They couldn't know the truth, what he did, because then they'd inevitably ask him why. And he absolutely could not tell them that.

So, shouldering the extra weight of yet another secret kept from the Winchesters, Cas went off to seek Crowley. He needed the status on finding Purgatory, because there weren't any other options at the moment. "Ah, there's my favorite partner-in-crime," Crowley smirked upon his arrival. "We need to talk." Cas wasn't having it. "Save it. How much longer until we have a way into Purgatory?" he snapped. "Soon. You know what would help? Having that pretty little monster creator, Eve. I hear she's kicking it around Earth these days."

"Eve is on Earth?" Cas asked. Eve had been locked away in Purgatory following her fall when she deceived Adam into also partaking of the fruit. Lucifer had convinced her to create monsters with the role she'd been given as Mother of All, and therefore had been cast away along with some of her more dangerous creations like the Leviathan. "Yes, and the Winchesters are going after her. You want to know how I know?" Crowley glared at him angrily. "Because they ran into one of her creations and in the process got my two best men on the job killed!"

"What are you talking about?"

"That bloody boyfriend of yours killed both Samuel Campbell and John Winchester." Despite himself, Cas felt a surge of pride and joy. Samuel and John were both dead. Dean had killed them. He was especially grateful that John was no longer on the playing board. He'd had mixed feelings about Samuel's return, but John was a whole different story. Crowley was obviously waiting for him to respond. "What exactly do you want me to say, Crowley?" he asked. "You know how I felt about bringing them back."

"Yes, except now we don't have a way to get to Eve," the demon growled in frustration. "The two people I would send after her are dead!" Cas tilted his head, eyes narrowed in confusion, "Didn't you say yourself the Winchesters are after her? We simply use their help."

"Are you out of your mind? Those buffoons will just ruin our chances." Cas shook his head, "Not if I went with them." Crowley scowled. "You really think you're up for that, Cassy? Because that would mean spending an excessive amount of time around them. What if you let something slip?" It was Cas' turn to glower. "I won't." The demon scoffed, "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Very well." Cas sighed internally. His brethren were calling him back to battle. They wanted him to help them strategize. Assisting the Winchesters on their search for Eve would have to wait.