Chapter Text
ACT I: BLOOD AND GRACE
THEN
kelly lent her baby’s power to castiel. at the same time, arc felt her hands simmer with energy and flame. as cas eyes lit up with gold, her own began to glow. together, the angel and the nephalem set dagon on fire. she crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony, as the flames consumed her.
“ i know now that this child must be born, with all his power. ” castiel sounds renewed; restored.
sam frowned. “ you - you can’t actually mean that. ” arc stepped forward, coming to flank kelly on her right. “ he does. and so do i. ” the winchesters turned to her, shock and betrayal on their faces. “ arc… ” dean was lost for words, mouth open but silent. arc gave him a small smile. “ i can feel him. ” she glanced down at the bump, kelly’s hand resting over the swell of her belly. “ i can hear him. his thoughts… ” arc’s voice is softer than any of them have ever heard it. “ we’re connected, somehow. he’s the better version of me. ”
dean shook his head, “ no, arc, you can’t- ” cas cut him off, “ we have to go. ” arc led kelly back to the truck, and helped her into the passenger side. she lingered by the door, watching cas and the winchesters, their pleas for him to stay. how he touched his fingers to their foreheads and let them fall to the ground, asleep.
arc got in the back, and cas got into the driver’s seat, starting the ignition and pulling away from the park. kelly looked at him with gratitude, “ what did he tell you? ” she wanted to know, and cas was more determined, more focused, than arc had seen him in a long, long time. “ he didn’t tell me. he showed me. ” his eyes briefly met arc’s in the rearview mirror. she was with him on this. they could do it, he had faith, he finally found his faith. “ the future. ”
—
NOW
cas is dead.
crowley is dead.
mary is gone. trapped in apocalypse world, with lucifer. of all beings.
and arc? oh, she just had to pull a disappearing act - with the newborn nephilim, of course. dean pinches his arm, the pain a way to keep him awake. lolling his head against the window of the impala, he waits impatiently for sam to return from the gas station. they’re returning to the bunker. there’s nothing else they can do. sure, heaven is probably out there, guns blazing, looking for jack. arc knows all the best wardings, hell, she had been hidden from all of heaven and hell her entire life. with jack under her protection… no-one would find them. not unless arc wanted them to be found.
dean startles out of his mind when sam slips back into the passenger seat, a plastic bag on his lap. “ good to go? ” dean nods, tersely, slamming on the gas and peeling out of the parking lot. dean was adament on giving cas a hunter’s burial, despite sam suggesting they find a way to bring him back. dean said no. one of the first things he’d done, after watching cas- after it happened, was to rage at chuck, beg him, plead with him, pray to him, to bring the angel back. nothing had happened. and dean was left alone, again, just him and sam.
no mom. no crowley. no castiel. no arc - and a nephilim, the literal son of satan himself, missing.
it’s been a bad week for the winchesters.
as they drive out to a place where they can burn castiel’s body, sam, too, is lost in thought. his mind wanders back to the moment arc left.
the dim nursery, painstakingly decorated by a mother who would never get to use it. eyes glowing gold in the dark corner, a toddler curled up, afraid. dean with his gun, and arc who stopped the eldest winchester with the flick of her wrist. she had ignored both men, stepping closer to the nephilim. “ it’s okay, kid. jack. you know me. we talked. remember? in your head? ” she spoke slow and calm, hands outstretched. “ i know that you’re scared, okay? i know that you’re confused. but it’s gonna be alright. i’m here for you. i really need you to trust me, okay? can you do that? ”
the nephilim boy hesistated, looking at dean, then sam, then arc. something in him relaxed just a tiny bit, and he shakily got to his feet, taking stumbling steps toward her. dean hissed under his breath, her name leaving his lips in a fit of anger. she ignored him still, and took tiny hands in her own. sam could only see her profile, but couldn’t miss the bob of her throat as she swallowed, hard. he tensed, he knew her mannerisms, knew she was about to do something she could never take back -
before he could speak or move, arc turned her head and her green eyes lit up, blazing in the shadowed room. she looked heartbroken, stricken, but a spark of hope could be seen in her gaze. she whispered, “ i’m sorry. ”
and then she was gone.
—
“ we can’t track them. we - she’s definitely dumped her phone by now - she might not even be in the country, ” sam runs his fingers through his knotty hair, wracking his brain for something. anything, that could help. dean sits across from him in the bunker, staring at nothing. his face a cold, blank slate. dead, frozen eyes, and bruised, bloody knuckles resting on the tabletop.
“ dean? ” sam pushes, concern for his brother taking over. dean hums, faraway, and sam tries to think of something to say. “ what do we do? ” he hates how hopeless he sounds. dean shrugs a stiff shoulder. “ nothin’. can’t do anything, sammy. it’s over. ” sam frowns, shaking his head. no. he could’t believe that, wouldn’t believe it. “ no, dean, it’s not. arc is still out there, and she has jack- ”
“ yeah, arc chose lucifer’s bastard kid over us, ” dean interrupts, the hollow of his voice edged with anger and hurt. “ so, that’s that. a nephalem and a nephilim. we’re screwed, sam. ”
“ arc believed that jack can be good, kelly believed that jack could be good, cas believed that - ”
“ and where is cas now? huh? ” dean’s entire demeanor changes so suddenly it feels like a slap to the face. his mouth twists into an unforgiving snarl, his eyes now ablaze with grief, and betrayal. his voice deepens, turns to fire and righteous fury. “ dead. and kelly? dead. ” he huffs a mirthless laugh and stands up, the legs of the chair scraping the ground. “ arc’ll be lucky if that thing doesn’t kill her too. we had one chance, sammy. one! and she screwed us over. ”
dean turns and walks away. he tries to storm out, but his ribs are shrieking with the movement, and so the effect is slightly lessened by the way he limps. sam watches him go, knowing now wasn’t the time to fight this battle. he sits back and breathes out, finds tears tracking down his bruised, dirty face. the events of the previous twenty-four hours collapse in on him all at once: mary, the british men of letters, finding out that lucifer still walked the earth. the birth of the nephilim, generating so much power it ripped through the fabric of the universe, created a door into a hellish-alternate earth. his mom, now trapped in said hellish-alternate earth, with lucifer, of all things. castiel’s face as his grace burned out of him, the tip of the angel blade visible through his chest. the devastation he read on arc’s face, in the moments before she took the child and ran.
crowley. dying in the wastelands, for them. for the world.
kelly, dying, giving her own life so that jack could have one. his throat aches with unspoken words, unspoken goodbyes.
even eileen… he lets out a whimper as an image of the irish hunter flickers in his mind. she didn’t deserve what happened to her. none of them ever did. and now…
and now, sam doesn’t know where to go, or what to do.
—
WICKLOW, IRELAND
arc smiles; jack kicks his new football around the open field, grass swaying in the early summer breeze. the afternoon sun is pitched high in the blue sky, patterned with the odd wisp of cloud here and there. a cup of tea clasped between her hands, sitting on the backstep of her cottage in wicklow, ireland, this is probably the closest thing arc has ever felt to peace.
“ arc, look! ” jack kicks, hard, the ball flying through the air, disappearing from sight. seconds letter, the boy’s wrist flicks and the ball returns, jack leaping midair to catch it. he turns to see arc’s reaction. she smiles fondly and sets down her cup on the concrete in order to clap her hands. “ that was great, sweetheart. well done! ”
jack practically glows at the praise; his eyes full of sunlight and innocence, his blonde hair catching just-right in the stream of sunlight. funnily enough, the effect it cast made it seem like a halo of light encircled his head. arc’s throat tightens with emotion, her eyes burning, her chest fit to burst with adoration. this kid… she still can’t believe it. she didn’t think it was possible to love another human being this much. to want to look after them, nurture them, protect them. but arc, arc is utterly devoted to this nephilim boy. when he smiled, she caught glimpses of kelly kline, her hope, her joy. that’s what jack really is, after all. kelly’s hope, kelly’s joy - and now arc’s, too.
she wonders how long they would remain safe here. sure, they are warded, the house too. but the forces of both heaven and hell were out for blood, hers and his, and the winchesters… the truth of the whole thing is, arc has no real plan. not for the future, not really. how could she? she doesn’t know what to do, how to keep jack safe once he is old enough to ask more questions. she’s done her best to tell him the truth. as much of it as she felt he could process, at least. she didn’t want to lie to him, about his heritage, his parents. the past hs a habit of coming back to bite - she knew it was better to take the teeth out beforehand.
jack flops down on the grass, enjoying the warmth. something twinged at her heart - she wishes so badly that she could keep him here, safe, happy, loved. not a weapon to be used in the battle between heaven and earth. dean always said there was no escaping the hunting life, though, and arc knew it was truly only a matter of time. like a shadow, it followed her. lurked at the corners, ready to slip back in. she heaves a sigh. her thoughts wander further still. she could only imagine the chaos the bunker must be experiencing right now. dean, enraged with her betrayal, her abrupt departure, sam probably more worried and concerned.
that night, arc goes about her business of tucking jack in and reading him something - they’d already moved on to more adult-type books. they’re halfway through the a series of unfortunate events series right now, and jack is loving it. when he falls asleep, she slips into the kitchen and sits at the old, worn table there. she takes a deep breath and settles herself, before whispering a spell. her head falls, eyes rolling to the back of her head. she moves, in spirit, all the way across the sea, over subtly shifting landmasses and through grassy woods. all the way to lebanon, kansas, where she hears the boys before she sees them. she appears in the kitchen, where the two seem to be arguing.
“ c’mon, dean, we can’t just give up! ” sam is pleading, his eyes dark with bags, his skin sallow. dean looks no better, his lips a snarl around the beer bottle tipped to his mouth. “ why not? huh? what have we got? sam, what, exactly, can we do? everyone’s dead or gone. ”
“ glad to see your chipper attitude hasn’t gone anywhere, ” arc speaks, startling them both. their expressions morph from shock to a stark contrast of relief (sam) and anger (dean). sam smiles, strained, but true. “ arc. how- " he looks puzzled until arc lets her hand pass through the counter top. " 'm not really here. "
sam nods, understanding. " where have you been? ”
“ somewhere safe. somewhere jack is safe. ”
dean scoffs. “ you can’t be safe with it. ” her jaw twitches. she fights to keep her cool.
“ i just wanted to let you know, we’re okay. ”
“ and why would we give a damn? ” dean asks, cold. sam looks to his brother, voice low and pained, “ dean. ”
arc shakes her head. “ look. whatever temper tantrum you’re throwing, that’s your problem dean. you don’t get to take it out on jack. that’s why i left. ”
dean raises his eyebrows, “ oh, so you took him away to, to, what? shelter him from my ‘temper tantrum’?” his tone is indignant, sarcastic. arc’s expression hardens.
“ i took him away to save him from you. ”
sam blinks.
“ you are the biggest hypocrite in the world, dean. you pal around with vampires and kings of hell, and yet the minute an innocent kid is born you’re ready to put a bullet in his head. ”
“ innocent? he’s lucifer’s kid! ”
“ so? ” she challenges, unflinching. “ he didn’t choose that. no more than you chose your sadistic, abusive, piece of shit dad to be yours. ”
sam inhales sharply. this is dangerous territory. dean’s eyes darken. “ what did you just say? ” his voice drops an octave, thick with gravel.
“ you heard me, dean. you might have it in your head that he was some great, self-sacrificing hero, but the truth is he was a shitty person. and a worse father. and your blind, hero-worship of him is truly sad. but again, that’s your problem. ” dean’s jaw works itself open and shut, but no words come out. arc’s face softens a bit. “ i know you think all kids want to make their father proud. do whatever they can to get their dad’s approval. but as far as jack is concerned, his father is not lucifer. and anyway, he’s not you, okay? ”
dean’s hand shakes, the bottle in his fingers clinking against his rings. “ you have no idea what you’re talking about. ”
arc just shrugs. “ i mean, it doesn’t matter what i say. the one thing you’re better at than killing monsters is denying a truth. but i’m not gonna let you hurt jack. ” she pauses, with astral projection, she can’t really sense emotion the way she can in person. but it’s enough to see dean’s eyes.
“ i know you blame him, for cas. ”
the bottle shatters, beer fizzing across the floor. “ you - don’t say his name - ”
“ oh, i don’t get to say his name? me? when you’re the one who wants to gank the kid he loved like his own! ”
“ that thing brainwashed him, and now it’s brainwashing you-! ”
“ jack is not a thing! ” arc screams, her sense of stability snapping. sam phsyically jumps, and dean takes a step back. “ and he’s not an it. he’s a kid. a great kid, no. a brilliant kid. ” her volume drops as her voice takes on an adoring tone. “ he’s smart. and funny. and kind. he’s so gentle, and so curious. he’s willing to listen. willing to learn. i can feel him. okay? i can feel his soul. he is not lucifer. he’s not even kelly. he is his own person. ” her chest heaves with emotion, her eyes beginning to water. “ and i am not going to let anybody, not you, not lucifer, not anybody, tell him who he is. ” she looks to the floor, fighting back her tears. she shakes her head, a lump in her throat. she can’t quite shake the feeling that maybe next time she sees dean winchester, he’ll go straight for her throat. it hurts.
she looks back up. sam’s face is soft and aching, longing. dean is- well, he has that look on his face. the one he wears when he thinks he’s hiding how he feels, when really, all the pain, and heartache, and grief is just sitting there for everyone to see. arc sighs. “ i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m sorry that you feel betrayed. but i need to keep jack safe. from heaven, and from hell. and i need to keep you both safe, too. you’ve lost so much. not just historically, but recently, too. ”
dean finds his voice, clearing his throat before finally speaking again. “ you don’t come back here. ever. ” he tips his chin up, defiant, daring. he neutralises his expression - but his eyes aren’t so easy to disguise. even his lower lip is visibly trembling. “ next time i see you, i put an angel blade in your chest. ”
sam looks stricken. “ dean, no. ” but dean is past reasoning. his anger has always been his downfall. his anger, his pride. and arc feels like she’s been here before, so many times. she loves dean winchester, loves him so damn much. but you can’t save someone who refuses to be saved.
she nods, and holds her breath. “ okay. stay safe. goodbye, sam. goodbye, dean. ”
sam reaches for her, but she disappears like smoke in the air. he stares with tears on his face as he stares at the empty space she once occupied. dean kicks at a broken shard of glass, letting it skitter across the floor.
arc returns to her body with a whoosh, and presses her palms to the cool wood in front of her. for the first time in months, she’s forced to confront her feelings. they spill over like a dam bursting open, and she bites at her knuckles in an effort to remain quiet. not wanting to wake jack. she closes her eyes, feels her wet lashes on her cheek. she makes a broken, jagged sound into her fist, biting harder. she only registers pain. grief. loss.
castiel, burning out in front of her. mary slipping through a crack in time and space. kelly. crowley, sacrificing himself in the other world, and now -
she’s lost dean many times, buried him more than once, now. but to lose him like this, while he was still live?
somehow this is worse.
she bends her arms and buries her face in her elbow. her body shakes, violently, as she silently whimpers into the fabric of her jacket. her heart is broken, much like the beer bottle on the bunker kitchen floor. she cries, and cries, and cries, until her own heartbeat is enough to lull her to sleep.