A/N

I'm sorry it took me so long to update this story. I've been busy with work, and other writing projects, and homeschooling my son because we're being super cautious about Covid. Also, I've had to some thinking about this story, and what direction I'm taking it in. I know where I'm going now, and hopefully I'll get the next chapter up soonish, but I can't promise anything. However, if you review, you will definitely motivate me :)

If you read chapter four before this current posting (3/17/22), go back and reread the last scene, or at least from when Cas comes into the room at this line "Now, back in the present, in the bunker, as if on cue, the angel wandered into the room, sitting down too close for comfort." Because I edited this scene in an important way. Basically, this scene is about Dean thinking consciously about his feelings for Cas and recognizing that he is attracted to Cas in some way, though nothing has ever happened and the two have never addressed whether there's a physical and/or romantic attraction. And when originally posted, I had Dean, drunk and angry at Lisa, act on his feelings and actually kiss Cas. After posting, I thought about the ramifications of this for Dean, Cas, and Lisa, and decided I didn't want to go down the love triangle route. When I started this story, I honestly wasn't sure if I wanted Dean to end up with Lisa or Cas. I think both are possible with the characters staying canon-compliant. But the more I wrote, I realized that this was a story about Dean falling for Lisa again. At the same time, I think that Dean is bisexual. I don't think he's ever acted on his feelings, but I think they're there. I wanted to have him explore those feelings and his authentic self, and have this happen because Lisa asks about it, asks about the dynamic she observes between him and Cas. But I've already put Dean and Lisa into a relationship, one that is ambiguously defined, but is real. I decided that having Dean cheat on Lisa was too big of a deal. I didn't want to spend chapters on the fallout. I also don't think he would cheat. And after spending decades in the closet, and being a person who is really good at stuffing his feelings down and exercising self control, I didn't think it was believable that Dean would just impulsively kiss Cas. He's self destructive, but he's not cruel, and that would seriously hurt both Lisa and Cas. And Ben. So, go back and read, but if you don't have time, I had Dean think all the same things, and imagine some physicality, but not do anything. He also tries to talk to Cas about their dynamic, but he's super vague and unclear, Cas doesn't understand what he's talking about, so Cas doesn't know that anything is up. Okay, that's it. Sorry for the rambling note, but I felt like that scene (while hot) was a big misstep and needed to be fixed.

-Norah

###

Dean sighed heavily, already exhausted by his brother's attitude. He'd told Sam that they were heading to Indiana on a milk run—to investigate some suspiciously vamp-like killings in Indianapolis. And this was strictly true. There was a job in Indianapolis, almost definitely. There were plenty of sketchy reports showing up in local newspapers and police files. If a vamp was sucking Indianapolis residents dry, somebody needed to chop its damn head off. Dean hadn't lied to Sam.

But he had looked for this job on purpose. He would have taken anything that seemed even a little bit their thing. Dean and Cas had shared bits of Ben's dream to Sam. But they'd left out the Jess business. And any mention of Sam maybe having a kid out there. Until Dean could get Sam alone.

Therefore, the Impala, the crap food, and a long drive on lonely highways.

"It's not possible," Sam grumbled, slouching in the passenger seat of the Impala and refusing the pork rinds Dean was trying to coax him into eating. "Jess is dead."

"Cas says maybe she's not."

Sam sank lower in his seat. "I saw her burn."

"I know. Ditto."

"Dammit, Dean! I went to the morgue. I made absolutely sure."

This was heavy crap, and Dean hadn't wanted to dump it on his baby brother when witnesses were around. He'd snapped at Cas pretty hard about the need to wait to talk to Sam alone. He didn't want Sam to have to put a brave face on for anybody, especially not the nephew he seemed to think he had to impress.

Dean had felt okay leaving the bunker because Cas and Ben were deep into translating the Enochian, and Lisa had gotten chill enough in the bunker to not go nuts if Dean went off on a milk run, enough for her to be all right on her own for a few days. They hadn't exactly resolved the awkward conversation about whether he was fucking Cas, or wanted to fuck Cas, but he'd apologized for storming out like a melodramatic soap opera character, she'd apologized for pressing the issue when he seemed to not want to talk about it, and they'd gone back to a pleasant if sometimes awkward co-existence relationship thing.

"I don't fucking care what Cas says," Sam said now, his voice so small he sounded ten. "You know I can't go there. I can't let myself picture it, her. Because it ain't true."

Dean nodded. "Because then when it's not real, you're a broken piece of crap in a dark alley? Yup, I get you. Course, maybe it's true."

Dean was halfway to Indiana because he hadn't wanted his little brother thinking about anybody else when he told him that maybe, just maybe, the love of his life hadn't burned up on the ceiling. That maybe Sam had a second chance at the life he'd fantasized about. Well, part of it. Without the fancy law degree and the being respectable bit. But the girl, that was big. Except Dean couldn't trust a dream. And neither could Sam.

But if Dean was being completely honest with himself, he was halfway to Indiana not just for Sammy. He needed space from Lisa, from the way she looked at him late at night after she'd laid her reading glasses on the nightstand, from her warmth spreading into him as she slept curled up on him. From them. If they were a them. Not that them was a bad thing. Sometimes it was magic, real magic.

But still, Dean couldn't hear himself think in the bunker these days. He needed a beat. Space to get his head on straight, to cool down the million conflicting thoughts that were racing through his damn head. Lisa, and Cas, and what it meant to look at a dude like that, and fatherhood, and mortality.

And really, it wasn't just the question of who he wanted to fuck or even love. It was also that sinking realization that maybe he wasn't fit to love anybody, since he was the kind of guy that any old morning would leave for work and complete the job by slicing off somebody's head.

After all, Dean was currently on a business trip. But Dean Winchester's reality of a business trip did not mean he'd drive to Indianapolis, then make his way into some dull conference room and give some boring presentation using PowerPoint. No, Dean Winchester's reality of a business trip was driving to Indianapolis in order to chop the heads off monsters. He didn't even know how to use PowerPoint. He was, however, really good at chopping off heads.

Besides the gruesomeness of his everyday life, how he was supposed to face off against God knowing he might leave his kid without a dad? How was he supposed to be Dean Winchester and worry about not just leaving Sam and Cas to stand stoically at his burial pyre and cry privately while drinking too much whiskey—but also worry about leaving a woman and a kid? Them staring at the shroud cloaking his corpse and then the salt, and then of course the flames devouring the last worthless pieces of Dean Winchester.

Thoughts of everything that could go wrong in a hunter's life were churning and burning into every inch of Dean's brain right now, as he drove the Impala towards Indianapolis.

The image of his dad dead on the hospital floor.

Sam dying over and over.

Bobby.

His mother.

His mother the second time.

The memory of being ripped to shreds by hellhounds.

The memory of Lisa lying in that hospital bed all those years ago, so close to death. Of Ben looking at Dean when he thought his mom was really going to die, blaming Dean, kind of hating Dean.

If he were being really, really honest with himself, Dean needed space not just from Lisa but also from himself.

"Look," Sam said now, rubbing his eyes like maybe he could make the whole damn world disappear. "It's not like it wouldn't be amazing. Of course, Jess being alive, that would be the best thing to happen in, in a long time. But it's not—"

Dean jerked the Impala to the side of the road and jerked to a stop, so he could look hard and long at his brother. Sam's hair really was out of control. He needed a damn haircut. "Sammy, I know it's a lot to take in. But the rest of Ben's dream, Cas says it's checking out. This Death book. And apparently a demon could have made the illusion of her burning, but got her out in time."

"You think a demon's gonna do that out of the goodness of its heart?"

Dean shook his head. "No." He raised a hand before Sam could butt in with his know-it-all-ness. "But if Azazel had a plan for her, a way to use her to get to you. ... It would be smart really. Use her death to get you back in the life. That was the plan, the reason for offing her. Old news to us. But then ... not actually kill her, instead the stupid yellow-eyed fucker, he hangs onto her so she could be leverage down the road.

"It's what they always do, Sammy. Use us against each other. They'd use her in a second if they thought it would tear you up. So, if Azazel did that, saved her, put her somewhere, and then Azazel died, maybe the other demons didn't know. Jessica and the kid could just be living some apple pie life and—"

Sam laughed without a shred of levity. "There is no fucking kid."

"Cas is trying to find them. If it's true, he'll find them, and then you can see for yourself. But like I said, this is good news."

"If she's been alive this whole time, why didn't she call me?" Sam asked, his voice a mix of the jaded hunter who didn't believe that any of this was possible and the sweet little kid who had a sliver of hope.

"Maybe Azazel wiped her memory. Maybe she got convinced that she couldn't, because they'd kill her, or the kid, or you. Maybe she thinks you're dead. I mean, all she'd have to do is watch the news and see the FBI kill us twice."

"But—"

"If she's out there, Cas'll find her. If she's not, I'm the first one you get to yell at. But either way, you needed to hear it, and I wanted it to be me telling you, and I didn't want you to have to deal with looking at anybody else."

Sam put his head in his hands. "Dean, I don't know what I'd say to her."

"I know."

"Is it fucked up that part of me doesn't want it? I mean, of course I want her to be alive, but I don't know how I would act around her. And a kid? How the hell am I supposed to do that? How are you doing it?"

Dean laughed. "I don't know. But I'm shit at it."

"No you're not."

"Sammy, it's fine, I'm not fooling myself into thinking I'm any good for the kid."

Sam looked up at Dean and then grabbed his shoulders. "Stop it. Stop all of this. You're ridiculously good at being that kid's father. He's in awe of you. Hell, I'm in awe of you."

"I'm there, and Ben's into having a dad after all this time. It's a novelty. He'll smarten up."

Sam shook his head and smiled, a sad smile. "You never see it. And it eats me up."

"See what?"

"You're a natural father, Dean. You've been doing it for years."

"I tried with Ben years ago, yeah, but I wasn't—"

"Dean, you raised me. You've been a parent since you were about eight years old. Maybe before. I'm alive because of you. I'm sane because of you. I was loved, and I knew it, because of you. So stop this shit. You're more than good enough."

###

Dean had just chopped the head off his third and last vamp when his cell phone rang. Careful not to get any blood in his mouth, he wiped his face with his sleeve and pulled the battered phone out of his pocket. "Yeah?"

"Dean, I found her," Cas said, his usually measured voice oddly excited.

Dean stepped out of the barn, getting far enough from his brother to have a private conversation. "Her her?"

"Jessica Moore. Only she's been living under a pseudonym. Rebecca Jones."

"You're sure it's her?"

Cas gulped and said, "I'm outside her home right now. I was with her for several hours. I interrogated her with a variety of methods. Some not pleasant. But effective. Her memory was altered, but I've repaired the damage. She is the Jessica Moore we were looking for. She remembers your brother. Though until this morning she believed the father of her child was someone else, a lowlife who'd abandoned her when she learned she was pregnant. Probably a fiction created by the demon Azazel, along with many details of her past. I'm fairly sure this is Azazel's work. There is a certain blueprint to the evil."

"Fuckin' A."

"Ms. Moore also believed she was an orphan with no siblings, which meant that she never considered seeking out her family. And she's been living in New York City, so she didn't come into contact with people from her former life. She doesn't remember a single friend from Stanford, or from grammar school, or high school. She believes she attended a state university in New York."

"Child? You said her child?"

"Sam's offspring, yes."

Dean felt his pulse quickening. Despite all the complications, he felt his damn heart soaring. "But how is that a thing? They didn't do some kind of witchy thing to her?"

He could almost feel Cas shaking his head in exasperation. "Other than snatch her off the ceiling before she'd burned, heal her wounds, and wipe her memory? And give her a false identity? No."

"But how does she have—"

Cas's voice was full of exasperation and annoyance and general peevishness. "Must I spell this out for you, Dean?"

"I suppose you 'must.' "

"The girl was pregnant when she burned on the ceiling."

"She didn't look—"

"Surely you are familiar with the fact that women do not appear to be impregnated until a period of time has transpired after the conception."

Dean nodded, though of course Cas couldn't see it. Maybe he could feel it. "Sam didn't know he knocked her up."

"Neither did Jessica, not when the burning on the ceiling incident occurred. We've done the necessary calculations. She was three weeks pregnant when the burning occurred. Azazel probably didn't know at first. I'm sure it was a happy surprise if he did find out, after he'd saved her, a surprise he certainly would have taken advantage of. If you hadn't killed him. It seems he had Jessica waiting in the wings until a moment when she could be most useful. But before he could do anything with her he unexpectedly, as you would say, kicked the bucket."

Dean let out a long, shaky breath. "Okay. Okay. I'll break it to Sammy. Really got no clue how he'll take this. He's been weird all weekend. You want us to come there?"

Cas cleared his throat. "I think the prudent thing is to meet at the bunker. Have you dealt with your monster of the week?"

"Yup. Heads off. Indianapolis saved. Not arrested. Look, what have you told Jessica?"

"Quite a lot. Most everything."

"Cas!"

"I needed her trust, Dean. And she can't be kept in the dark, not with the stakes here, especially when her child may play a key role in defeating God. She kept saying, 'You don't mean God God?' It took many iterations of yes."

"Is she pissed?"

"She appears quite angry, yes."

"At Sam?"

"To be honest, I am not sure to whom she is directing her anger."

"What about the kid?"

"A fourteen-year-old girl. She plays the guitar, excels in both literature and mathematics, and enjoys activities in which she stands in front of people and pretends to be someone else, or gets applause of various sorts."

"A girl, huh. I thought we needed fathers and sons."

"I think a daughter will meet the requirements of the plan. As I understand the Enochian I've been able to decipher—what's important is the lineage. Not the gender."

Dean sucked in a breath as he thought of Ben. Of the idea of his boy having a real, live cousin. "Is she normal? No demon blood issues, or—"

"She appears to be a normal human adolescent. Excessively tall. Studious. She's on the math team, and she has the lead in a school play. The child is angry at my suggestion she take a few days away from play rehearsal. She did not appear interested in the fact that the fate of the world may depend on her missing a performance."

###

Outside the entrance to the bunker, Sam was pacing up and down, so much that his nervous energy was making Dean feel sick. Leaning up against the Impala, Dean cleared his throat. "Just calm the fuck down, Sammy."

"Easy for you to say." And Sammy just kept on pacing. They'd only pulled up a few minutes ago, and already this was going awesome.

"I just went through the whole surprise dad thing," Dean said.

Now his brother turned on him with a downright murderous look. "Don't pull that crap on me. You didn't think Lisa was dead. You knew Ben."

"I didn't know he was my kid."

Sam laughed, harshly and humorlessly. "You thought he might be. You told me that years ago, even when Lisa said she was sure you weren't."

"It's not—"

"Your situation with Ben, I get that it's crazy. I get that you had to become a dad overnight, and I even get that you figured they were clean out of your life. But it ain't nothing like this."

"Sammy—"

"I thought Jess was dead! I went crazy thinking—"

"But she's not dead. So this is a good thing."

"She's gonna hate me."

Dean sighed and began the spiel he'd been throwing at his brother since Indianapolis. "For the twenty-seventh time, you idiot. You didn't hurt her. You didn't wipe her memory. You didn't—"

"Tell her." Sam gave him a long, pissy, melodramatic look. Then he went back to pacing.

"What?"

Sam finally stopped pacing. He came to stand right next to Dean. "Two years we were together. And I never told her the truth. I never told her who I really was. Or how to protect herself. Maybe she couldn't stopped it."

Dean didn't know what to say to that.

But before he could try some form of bullshit advice, the door to the bunker opened, and Lisa ran out to them. She threw her arms around Dean, and he just held onto her for a minute straight, closed his eyes and buried his face in her dark hair, smelling her strawberry shampoo and the fabric softener she'd bought in town.

Lisa held onto him, tight but not too tight. When he pulled his head up to look at her, he really looked at her. All the space between them on the road trip, it had helped. Quieted him down enough to just look at her without his heart ready to jump out of his chest.

And maybe the distractions had helped, not just chopping heads off vamps but taking care of his little brother.

"You okay?" Lisa said, cocking her head to the side and fiddling with her brown hair, which she'd tied up in ponytail but many strands were coming out all over. She was unkempt, like she hadn't brushed her hair in a couple days. A little frazzled.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Mostly. There was way more about Enochian than I ever thought I'd hear and it's all a little, you know. I mean, God!" She bit her lip. "I missed you. I didn't think I would, not as much as I did. I've spent so many nights in a bed by myself, it shouldn't matter. But the bed was cold."

He kissed her, full on the lips.

Sam groaned like he was thirteen. Dean glanced at his brother, mumbled a half-assed apology, and grabbed Lisa's hand, dragging her towards the hidden entrance of the bunker. Leaning up against the wall, he pulled her close, right next to him. His arm around her shoulder. His whole body trying to wrap around her, like he could protect her from the air itself.

Lisa put her head on his should and sighed the sigh of someone who knows that they'll be able to breathe again, or eat a full meal, or just be. "Are you really back?" she asked.

"I live here."

"Not my question."

Still beside her, looking in front of him at a random point in the distance but not at her, Dean said, "I know. Look, Lis, I had to get my head on straight."

"And?"

"It's on straight."

She came to stand in front of him, arms crossed, expression guarded. "It sounds like you've made some sort of decision."

Dean nodded. All of a sudden, the words were stuck inside him. He was afraid to reach out for her. But he fought against everything his dad had ever taught him about pushing himself down deep, deep, deep. Dean grabbed her hands. He kissed each hand in turn. And then he said, "You. I want you. If you'll have me."

Lisa started to cry. "Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"You're not going to decide you're too broken for me and run off again?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Taking a shaky breath in, Dean said, "Sammy said something. About me being a dad."

Lisa smiled for some reason. Brushed tears out of her eyes. "Okay? What did he tell you?"

"He said I didn't need to worry about doing a shit job with Ben. Because I'd been a dad to him, to Sammy, maybe a mom too, since we were kids. He said I was a natural."

Lisa gripped his hands so hard he was shocked at her strength. "He's not wrong."

Dean smiled, not sure how to thank you for that quick agreement with Sammy. Then he swallowed hard and told her the thing he hadn't wanted to get into, but figured he had to if he had any chance at a long-term thing with this freaking wonderful woman. "Lisa," he croaked out. "There's something else. Shit, this is such a stupid thing to say. Total chick flick moment."

Then Dean just threw every shred of common sense—and perhaps everything his father had ever told him about being a man—to the wind. He kissed her. He let her wrap herself around him. He let her push him up against the wall. Coming up for air, he said, "There's this one thing you have to know. After our, after what you said, about Cas ..."

She raised her eyebrows, but she didn't pull away from his embrace. "Yes?"

"You were right, Lis. A little.

"There's—I think there's a certain thing there. I don't know what that means I am, or how weird I am. And you know, he's an angel, so it's complicated. But there was also something that happened a long time ago. A friend, a guy, who kissed me. I pushed him away, yelled. And nothing else happened. He said he was sorry. I thought he'd totally misread everything, but maybe he didn't, maybe he wasn't so crazy to make a move on me. Maybe some part of me liked to watch him as he walked away from me."

Lisa was smiling, not a big smile or anything, but what seemed like a smile of understanding or empathy or some shit like that. Her smile was infuriating.

Dean took a deep breath and kept talking because, well, he didn't know, but she made him feel safer than he had since he was four. "After you said this shit to me about how you thought I might have slept with Cas, it got me thinking. I mean, just to be completely clear, I haven't, you know—I haven't done anything with him. But being with you, it's like I get to feel things I didn't let myself, feel.

"And, dammit, this is such a chick flick moment. But I was sitting with him that night after we argued about this. I was drunk. I thought how it would be to kiss him. But I didn't."

She frowned. "What did you do?"

"I went vampire hunting."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant."

"Dammit, Lis! I didn't touch the guy. But I did some thinking. And while there's a certain level of, okay, fine, but you can't tell anyone I said, this, you promise? Especially not Sammy."

She nodded.

"Castiel is hot. Okay? You heard that? You don't need to hear it again. But yeah, my best friend is a dude, well a celestial wavelength technically, but I can only see him in a dude's body. And, seriously, now, I will lose my shit if you say anything to anyone, especially Sammy, but sometimes other guys are ... sometimes I look. As they walk away.

"Or say somebody is wearing a really nice fitting sweater, not too tight, but there's just this outline that could be possibly read as sexy? Or this one dude who plays a doctor on TV and he wears cowboy boots with his scrubs instead of shoes. Sometimes I look at a guy. Fine. You happy?

Dean couldn't believe he was saying any of this, or even articulating in my mind. But somehow with her, he felt so damned safe. "In high school, before I dropped out, I remember sitting in class and undressing a girl with my eyes, that was, well, basically all I did in high school. But then one day, it was a guy in second period. And a girl in third period. The guys in the locker room, they were interesting.

"But I was a hunter, my dad was my dad. So obviously, that was not something I was going to do. Go after a guy. Not ever. Not even for one night. I pushed it so far down I didn't know it was there anymore. So fine. Now you know all my stupid secrets. You happy?"

She was smiling at him so damned nicely. "I'm just happy opening you're up to me."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever."

But now he looked straight into her beautiful eyes. And now he took in how kind her face was. How he could tell by the way she held her head ... that she loved him. Really loved him.

"Lisa Braeden, you are something different from anybody else to me. Cas is my best friend. Fine, he has a real nice ass, and it's flattering the way he stares at me, like I'm the only person on the planet. And he's Cas too, he's the guy who knows me better than Sammy sometimes. I really don't know what he's into. Seeing as he is a beam of light really. I don't know if he'd even want, that, from me. But he'll get parts of me because you don't know what it is to be in the life, really in it."

Lisa started to tear up. He wasn't being clear enough.

"I'm not in love with Castiel," he said.

Lisa started actually crying. He pulled her close and held onto her. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I was just so scared that you weren't going to choose—"

Into her hair, Dean whispered, "You. I choose you."

Before Dean could say anything else, Cas's pimpmobile-Cadillac pulled up right in front of Sam. Dean jogged over to the car and his brother, Lisa trailing right behind him.

Castiel climbed out of the driver's seat. The two passengers stayed in the car. A blond woman, mid-thirties, sat up front. In the back was a teenage kid. Sandy haired, but this girl had Sam's nose, Sam's eyes.

The new arrivals seemed frozen, as if they were unable to get out of the car. Sam stood just as frozen. Cas bent down to say something to the woman, but she just shook her head and remained in her seat.

Dean sighed, patted his brother on the shoulder and ran over to her side of the car. When she didn't get out or even roll down the window, he jerked the door open. "Jess?" he asked. But just looking at her beautiful face and her hair so blond it almost glowed, he knew exactly who she was. "Do you remember me?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "But I only saw you once, right?"

He smiled, his patented, trust me I'm FBI smile. "Just the once. I broke into your house, gave you a little scare. You were wearing very little, and I was, well, typical douche version of me. But I stand by what I said. You're out of my brother's league."

She let out a little nervous laugh. "It's Dean Winchester, right? The brother?"

He smiled the trustworthy FBI smile and nodded. Lisa leaned in towards Jessica. "I'm Lisa. And nobody is going to hurt you."

Jess looked like she was about to have a panic attack. "Are you, one of them? A hunter?"

Lisa shook her head. "I teach yoga."

"Really?"

"I'm Dean's—" Lisa stopped, glancing at Dean. "Girlfriend?"

Dean shrugged. Sam's eyebrows were in his hair. "That sounds about right," Dean said, unable to not grin in spite of the serious situation.

Lisa smiled, and she was tender as she said, "Dean and I are together. And we have a son."

"Really?" Jess seemed to be breathing more easily. Lisa always had a nice calming effect on people.

"I know this is crazy," Lisa said. "You should've seen my face when Dean told me about who he really was. And I know that this is really weird for you. The demons, they stole your life. And I can imagine you have all sorts of feelings about Sam Winchester there. Wondering why he lied. And I can imagine that they're not all pleasant feelings you have about him. But he's here now."

"I can't do this," Jess said.

Dean put his arm around Lisa's shoulder and leaned down to really look Jess in the eyes. "You can. Just coming here, you're a freaking badass. And my brother, well, you should've seen him when he thought ... Jess, we all thought you were dead. It tore him up. We see a lot of shit in our line of work, but that was a bad day. The worst. But in the life, every so often, there's a miracle. And you're it.

Jessica took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself.

He murmured, "Sammy's a mess, and he's an idiot, and you are still out of his league. But he wants to talk to you. He just can't make his feet work. Jessica, one of you's gonna have to make the first move."

He and Lisa got out of the blond woman's way as she climbed out of the car and went over to Sam. Who just broke down and grabbed her and was holding on like he might never let go. Dean could hear his baby brother was choking back tears and blubbering some kind of apology for being him, or existing, or some such shit.

Dean smiled a little to himself, pulled himself away from Lisa even though he never wanted to let her go, and yanked open the rear door of Cas's pimpmobile. The girl was glaring at him, glaring at the world with a stubborn look on her face that was so damned Winchester he couldn't help laughing. "Get out of the car, young lady. Ride's over."

Lisa cleared her throat. "Dean! A little compassion."

But Dean grinned wickedly at the sandy haired teenager with his baby brother's eyes and nose. The kid glared back at him.

Dean knew people. Jess had needed coddling. Jess had needed a soft touch. But the surly teenager in the backseat? She needed a drill sergeant.

"I don't believe in any of this," the girl said.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Didn't Cas show off his cool superpowers?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Any of your friends' moms ever have a dude in a rumpled trench coat show up on their door, do some weird magic-seeming shit, and then, bam, the mom remembers a whole other life? Including a time when she burned up on the ceiling but got snatched down just in time?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "I don't care. It's preposterous. I'm not going to suspend disbelief to the point that—"

Lisa giggled behind him. Now the girl, his niece, was glaring at both of them.

Dean wanted to stick his tongue out at Sam's brat, for her sheer dumb pretentious use of the English language. Of course his brother's kid would be both a know-it-all and a nerd. "No. We're not doing this. Get out."

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm Dean, your monster-hunting uncle. This is Lisa, my devastatingly beautiful girlfriend. Our kid, your cousin, is inside, excited to meet you cause he's overly enthusiastic, but also you're a cousin so it's a big deal, right Lis?"

Lisa nodded but was still looking suspiciously at him. Clearly loving his methods right now.

Dean didn't care right now. He flashed Lisa his cockiest smile, then glanced over at his brother and Jess. "That's your monster hunting dad arguing with your understandably mad mom."

"None of this makes sense. It can't be real."

"It's all real, kiddo. It sucks and it's stupid and you hate it? Got it. Agreed. I'm sorry, I really am."

When the kid still didn't budge or drop her pissed off surly attitude, Dean let his voice go extra low. Sometimes, you had to be John Winchester. "Get over it. Angels. Demons. Vampires. Werewolves. A whole shit ton of weirder stuff. All real. You've officially arrived at the house of weird, and there's no going back. So get out of the damned car."

"But it will be okay," Lisa said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder, a soft hand like she wanted to reassure him, not just the girl. "You're with family. That's what really matters."

His niece had dropped the surly act and now looked on the verge of tears.

Dean dropped to his knees and put a hand on Sam's daughter's shoulder. He softened his tone as he said, "You're okay, kiddo. You're safe. And you're a Winchester, so you can handle it. I promise." The girl nodded as she began to cry. "What's your name, by the way? Cas didn't tell me."

She blubbered something.

Lisa, kneeling down beside Dean, said, "I didn't catch that, honey."

But now Sam's voice has risen and gone all high pitched. "That's my mother's name. How did you know if Azazel wiped your goddamned memory—"

Dean glanced at Lisa. She looked baffled. Dean had goosebumps running all over his body. "Mary? Your name's Mary?"

John and Mary Winchester's granddaughter brushed tears out of her eyes and seemed to pull herself together as she said, "My mom said she just liked the name, it's not supposed to be after anybody. But my name's Mary."