Chapter Text
The Road So Far…
Dean Winchester was supposed to be in Hell, but he wasn't. Instead, he was digging himself out of his grave. He had no idea what happened or where he was. To make things worse, he discovered that his grave was surrounded by a perfect circle of fallen trees and he had a mark on his shoulder. Neither of which could be rationally explained.
Dean did the natural first thing that anyone would do after waking up in the middle of nowhere; he went off in search of civilization. Eventually, he found it in the form of a gas station on the side of the road. At first, he thought he hit the jackpot, but was proven wrong when he met the cashier, Skye, and saw the way she was running things. The entire store was dark. All the appliances were broken, and the windows were boarded up. All of it screamed trap, but Dean didn't immediately run.
"Why are you staying open like this?" he had asked. However, before an explanation (or rather an excuse) could come out of Skye's mouth, an extremely loud noise caught them both off-guard. So loud, that glass shattered and the entire building shook.
Once the noise stopped, Dean wasted no time in getting out of there. He found a car he could use and stepped it out to Bobby Singer's house in Sioux Falls. On the way there, Dean had nothing else to do but contemplate what he saw when the noise started: a vision of a man in a trench coat declaring his love for Dean. However, just thinking about the vision made Dean so upset that he had to pull over to the side of the road to throw up.
Eventually, Dean did make it to Bobby's, but he didn't exactly receive the warmest welcome. Bobby was convinced that the Dean that stood before him was either a spirit or a monster. It was understandable, considering that Dean was supposed to be dead. As a result, Bobby attacked him. Dean fended him off, but it took cutting himself with a silver knife and getting a face-full of Holy Water to convince Bobby that he was who he said he was.
After that reunion, it was time for another one. Dean and Bobby tracked Dean's brother, Sam, down to a motel in Pontiac, Illinois – where Dean had just come from. Upon arrival at the motel, though, it didn't end up being Sam he was immediately reunited with.
Skye was working at the front desk. When Dean confronted her, she played it off like it was just one big coincidence and tried to gaslight Dean into thinking that he imagined everything that happened in the gas station. He didn't buy any of it for one second.
Regardless, Skye was cooperative and was able to direct Dean and Bobby to the room that Sam was staying in. (Though, she did feel the need to inform them of a rude comment one of her co-workers made about Sam and the woman he was with.) They headed up to the room and knocked on the door. There, a scantily clad woman opened a door and mistook them for pizza delivery guys. Thinking they had the wrong room, Dean and Bobby were just about to leave and move on when Sam came out of the bathroom.
Upon seeing Dean, Sam froze. Then, he attacked. The brothers scuffled for a few moments before Bobby got between them and made Sam see sense.
"It's him!" Bobby had shouted as he tried to hold Sam back. "It's him, Sam! I've been through this already. It's really him."
"What…?" Sam had gasped out in confusion as Dean took a step closer.
"I know," he had said. "I look fantastic, huh?"
At that remark, Sam was convinced and crossed the room to give Dean the most relieved and heartbreaking hug of either of their lives.
After the two brothers broke apart and Sam sent his date home, Dean tried to question Sam on the why and how he brought him back from the dead. Sam swore up and down that it wasn't him and he was just as surprised that Dean was back as he and Bobby were. It took a while, but Dean and Bobby believed him. That raised one giant question, though; who or what pulled Dean out of Hell, and why?
To answer that question, Bobby called up a psychic friend of his that lived in the area – Pamela Barnes. Pamela set up a séance for the four of them to try and contact whatever rescued Dean. They were semi-successful, learning that the creature's name was Castiel.
Castiel, however, tried to warn them back. Pamela was close to seeing his true form, which was something no human could comprehend. Pamela didn't listen to him, though, and pressed forward. She wasn't going to be satisfied until she managed to "catch a sneak peek of their mystery monster." Unfortunately, her persistence caused her eyes to be burned out of her skull. Her screams sounded painful beyond all imagination.
Bobby went with Pamela to the hospital while Dean and Sam headed back to Pontiac. When they arrived back in town, they stopped at a diner to refuel and figure out what they knew. However, they couldn't discuss much before it was revealed that the entire diner was filled with demons. They all wanted to know one thing; how Dean escaped from the pit, which tipped them off that not even the forces of Hell knew how Dean had been brought back.
Realizing that the demons were afraid of whatever it was that rescued him, Dean used that to threaten them and get him and Sam out of there in one piece. Sam wanted to go back and exorcise the demons, but Dean refused as they were easily outnumbered by the demons. Besides that, Dean had a better idea. He was going to summon Castiel to him and find out what they were dealing with once and for all.
Naturally, Sam objected to that plan and the two brothers argued over it all the way back to their hotel room. They only stopped as they entered the room because they found that it wasn't as they left it. Nothing was taken, but all the glass was taped up as one would tape up a window before a storm, the light bulbs were missing, and the electronics were destroyed. It was almost identical to the state that Dean had found the gas station in and both scenes had one thing in common: Skye. Dean and Sam had seen her get thrown on their way in as she had only been pretending to work there. If they wanted to question her, she was already long gone.
Without any better plans or leads, Dean decided to read through some of the lore books Bobby brought with them to see if he could find out anything more about this "Castiel." As he did so, he fell asleep. Hours later, he was awoken by the same loud, glass-shattering noise that had assaulted his eardrums in the gas station. Again, he was confronted by visions of the trench-coated man's love confession. He didn't know what to make of it.
When the noise stopped, Dean found a concerned Bobby hovering over him and learned that Sam was nowhere to be found. With his brother not around to stop him, Dean decided to go forward with his summoning plan. Bobby didn't think it was a good idea, but knew Dean wasn't going to be talked out of it. So, he went along with it.
The two of them found and abandoned barn outside of town and set it up for battle. Every protection sigil they knew was spray painted onto the walls and floors, and every weapon available to them was placed within arm's reach. However, none of this prepared them for how powerful this being truly was, and it certainly didn't prepare Dean for what came bursting through the barn doors.
It was the man in the trench coat; the same man who confessed his love for Dean before being swallowed by a black mass.
Regardless of the visions he had seen, Dean didn't hesitate in opening fire along with Bobby at the man that was advancing towards them. They fired multiple rounds into the man's chest, but he continued his approach completely unaffected. When the man got close enough, Dean stabbed him through the heart. The man simply pulled it out, unphased. In a last-ditch effort, Bobby tried to strike the man over the head with a metal bar, but the man easily avoided the blow and knocked Bobby out by just pressing two fingers to his forehead.
"We need to talk," the man had told Dean.
"Who are you," he had demanded to know.
"Castiel," the man had said. "I'm an Angel of the Lord."
"There's no such thing."
Dean's insistence caused Castiel to prove it in a massive display of power. Thunder boomed and flashes of lightning lit the barn up with an ethereal glow. Behind Castiel, a pair of shadowy black wings unfurled. Dean was unimpressed.
"Right," he had snapped at the apparent angel. "And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"
"Because God commanded it." Dean didn't react. He couldn't. "Because we have work for you."
After that, Dean lost touch with all reality. He couldn't tell the vision apart from the present. All he knew was that he heard what he was assuming to be Castiel's last words to him.
"I love you. Goodbye, Dean."
That's when the world came to an end. He remembered nothing after that.
Now
Wednesday, December 31st, 1986
Manitowoc, Wisconsin
"Twinkle, twinkle little star,"
This was the fifth rendition of the nursery rhyme Janet had given. She'd also tried variations of "London Bridge," "Rock-a-Bye Baby," and "Mockingbird," all too little success. However, it seemed like the baby was finally starting to settle down.
"How I wonder what you are,"
The baby's eyes had closed, and her breathing had started to even out. Janet started to wonder if it'd be safe to try to transfer her to the crib.
"Up above the world so high,"
Janet bounced the baby a little as she stepped over to the crib. The little girl didn't squirm or startle.
"Like a diamond in the sky,"
Slowly, she started lowering the baby onto the mattress.
"Twinkle, twinkle little star,"
She pulled her hands out from under the tiny body. The baby didn't even notice and remained peacefully asleep. Janet smiled softly.
"How I wonder what you are."
She whispered the final lyrics to the song and pressed a very gentle kiss to the baby's forehead. She snoozed on as Janet backed out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar so she could hear if the baby woke up. She hoped that it wouldn't happen, though. The little girl had refused to go down for a nap that afternoon and by that point, it was almost certain that she needed to sleep.
Despite the difficulties the infant gave them, Janet nonetheless felt blessed. After years and years of trying, she and her husband, Gregory, thought they would never become parents. Now, they had a foster daughter that they hoped they'd be able to adopt in the new year. It was more than they could have ever asked for, their own little miracle.
Janet walked down the stairs, careful to avoid the particularly creaky spots. Her husband waited for her on the couch, along with a couple of glasses of sparkling apple cider. They didn't have anything crazy planned for the night, just relaxing, staying sober, and watching the Times Square Ball drop on TV. They were on Central Time, so it wouldn't really be midnight, but they could pretend. With a baby as little as theirs was, they kind of did have to cheat a little. Though, maybe that night would be the first she'd sleep through until morning.
Rounding the couch, Janet smiled at her husband as she moved to sit next to him. Gregory returned it in kind.
"Hey," he said.
"Hi," she returned as he pulled her in for a quick, chaste kiss.
"You get her to go down?" Gregory asked as he pulled away. Janet let out a little sigh of relief and nodded.
"Finally," she said. "For a moment there I was worried that we'd have to take her to the hospital."
"Just 'cause she wouldn't settle down?" Gregory questioned. "Don't you think that'd be a little much?"
"No," Janet said. "Remember Lisa's husband had to go to the hospital because he couldn't fall asleep."
"He was awake for three days," Gregory pointed out.
"And he was a full-grown man," Janet said. "I'm sure missing an afternoon nap is the same thing as missing three days sleep to a little baby." Gregory chuckled.
"You worry too much," he remarked.
"Someone has to." Gregory shrugged.
"True enough." He reached over to the coffee table and retrieved the two glasses of cider. One of which, he handed to Janet. "I propose a toast." Janet smiled.
"To what?" she asked.
"To our daughter finally giving in to exhaustion," Gregory suggested. They both laughed.
"How about to the new year," Janet said. "And the hope that it'll be the one that'll make our little family permanent." Gregory smiled.
"I can think of nothing better."
The two of them clinked their glasses together and each took a sip. At the same time, there was a knock at the door. Janet raised an inquisitive eyebrow to her husband as she pulled the glass away from her lips.
"Who could that be?" she asked.
"Don't know," Gregory said. "Did you invite anyone over?"
"At ten o'clock at night?" Gregory shrugged, seeing her point. Slowly, he got up from the couch.
"Maybe someone's having car trouble," he said. "You stay here. I'll go check it out."
"Okay." Janet grabbed onto Gregory's hand as he started to move away. She didn't know why she did it, but she did. To his credit, Gregory let her hold on for a moment before finally pulling away, letting their hands slip out of each other's grasp.
As she heard Gregory's steps drift away into the foyer, Janet brought her glass of cider back up to her lips, enjoying the crisp, refreshing taste. She tucked a strand of dark, curly hair behind her ear and turned her attention to the TV. The station had switched to commercials, so she watched the Noid's comedic attempts at ruining a Domino's pizza with a blank expression on her face. She heard the front door open and Gregory talking with someone but paid the conversation no mind.
That was, until she heard her husband let out a sharp, but firm "no." Janet furrowed her brow and frowned. She had never heard her husband sound so short before. Concerned, she picked up the remote and muted the TV, straining to hear what was going on behind her.
It was a man at the door. Janet could tell by the low pitch of his voice. The man sounded agitated. Janet turned where she was sitting and leaned back a bit, trying to get a look at their unexpected late-night visitor. Unfortunately, Gregory's back blocked her view, so she couldn't get a good look at anything other than the top of the man's graying head.
For the most part, Gregory seemed to handle the situation well. He remained calm and kept a note of firmness in his voice that made it clear that he wasn't going to tolerate any games. The man, however, grew increasingly frantic with every word he spoke. Janet could hear Gregory growing impatient. The front door squeaked as he tried to shut it on the visitor, telling them to leave or he would call the police. That's when the man said something that made Gregory pause. When Janet heard her husband's voice again, her blood ran cold.
"How do you know my daughter's name?"
Janet completely froze. The only thing she could hear was the rapid pounding of her heart. A million thoughts ran through her mind, the most alarming of which being is my baby in danger?
The sound of Gregory screaming her name was enough to snap Janet out of her shocked state. It took a moment for her to process the sounds of a scuffle taking place. Nervously, she looked around trying to figure out what – if anything – she could do. She spotted the cordless landline phone on the side table next to the couch and had the presence of mind to grab it before finally making the decision to run to her husband's aid.
When she ran out into the foyer, Janet was again overcome with shock. She couldn't process anything she was seeing, other than her husband's disheveled state. The strange man had him in a headlock. Blood dripped down from a cut somewhere in his hairline. His glasses were skewed, and the lenses were covered with splatter. Even through that, though, his green eyes found a way to connect with her brown ones. The weight of the pleas behind those eyes helped get through to her the words he spoke.
"Janet," he screamed. "Grab the baby and run! Run!"
It took a moment to get her feet to cooperate the way she wanted them to, but Janet found herself bounding up the stairs in less than a second. The struggle continued behind her, but she didn't look back. If she did, she would become too scared to react and she couldn't afford that. Her baby's life was on the line.
Running into the nursery, Janet shut and locked the door behind her. Thinking fast, she pushed the changing table in front of the door to reinforce it. She knew Gregory said to take the baby and run, but she didn't think that would be possible. She'd have to run past the fight to get to any of the exits and she didn't want to risk putting the baby in danger. Instead, she put a different plan into action. With the phone still in her hand, she dialed 911.
Bringing the phone to her ear, Janet stepped closer to the crib. All the noise and shouting had woken the baby up and she was not shy in voicing her displeasure. Janet reached down and rubbed the baby's belly to soothe her. She didn't seem to care and kept screaming at the top of her little lungs. Janet shushed her as a voice came over the phone's speaker.
"911 Operator, what is your emergency?" Janet almost cried with relief.
"A man just broke into my house and he's hurting my husband!" It came out so fast that Janet wasn't sure she understood herself. She was amazed at the calm levity of the operator's voice.
"Where are you, ma'am?" they asked. "Can you give me a street address?" Janet swallowed hard as it took her an embarrassingly long time to remember her own address.
"618 Coolidge Place, Manitowoc, Wisconsin!" she finally got out. The city and state were most certainly unnecessary, but her panic made it all tumble out.
"And do you need police, fire, or EMS?" the operator asked.
"Police!" Janet cried. "And an ambulance!"
"You need police and EMS?"
"Yes!" Janet's entire body shook. She had trouble holding back a sob.
"And can you state your name, please?" Janet took a deep breath, willing her voice to stay steady.
"Janet Sutter."
"Alright, Janet," the operator said. "Can you explain what's going on there?"
"There's a man in my house, and he's attacking my husband." She could still hear Gregory's screams; hear him struggle to fight back. Janet took what little solace in that she could.
"What's your husband's name?"
"Gregory Sutter."
"Okay, and do you know the man that's attacking him?" The operator asked.
"No," Janet insisted. "I've never seen that man before in my life." She let out a stuttering sob before quietly adding, "he knew my baby's name."
"And this man is actively attacking your husband?"
"Yes!"
"Right now?"
"Right now." Janet confirmed.
"Okay," the operator said. "Is there anyone else in the house with you besides your husband and his attacker?"
"Yes," Janet said. "My six-month-old daughter. Foster daughter." She had to correct herself. "We're in her nursery. I locked and blocked the door."
"Did you see if your husband was hurt?" the operator asked.
"Yes," Janet said. "He was bleeding."
"Did you see from where?"
"His head," Janet said. "His forehead and nose."
"And is there anything else you can tell me about the situation?"
Janet paused for a moment to think, and her heart fell when she noticed how quiet it was. Gregory wasn't screaming anymore. Janet could feel every hair on her body stand on end.
My God, she thought. What has he done to my husband?
Without giving too much thought to her actions, Janet moved away from the crib and over to the door. She dropped the phone to the ground and paid no attention to the operator's calls for her to respond. She barely even paid attention to the baby's crying. She just walked over and pressed her ear as close as she could to the door.
"Gregory?" she found herself whispering. "Greg, are you okay?"
She didn't get any response. Janet struggled to hear anything over the pounding of her own heart. She covered her opposite ear and strained to hear anything through the wood of the door. She hoped to hear something that would indicate to her that Gregory was okay, but she wouldn't be so lucky.
The sharp clang of metal ripping apart assaulted Janet's unprotected ear and she stumbled backwards, tripping on her own feet. She hit the ground so hard, her body bounced, knocking the wind out of her. The shock and adrenaline rush caused her confusion, but it didn't take long for her to figure out what had happened. The knob had been ripped off the door, and someone was on the other side, trying to break it down. Janet couldn't help the scream that escaped her throat.
"He's here!" she screamed. To whom, she didn't know. The operator who was hopefully still on the line, or maybe God? Who knew? She just hoped someone – anyone – heard her. "He's here! Get out of my house! Leave us alone!"
However, the man (beast?) paid no heed. He slammed at the door, causing the wood to break apart like brittle. Janet got to her feet and stood defensively in front of the crib where the baby continued to scream and cry. She would not let this thing hurt her baby, not without a fight.
It all happened in a flash. The door came down, taking the changing table with it. The man seemed to step over the obstructions with ease, coming up on Janet at quite a significant speed. Every muscle in her body tensed, but she still stood her ground.
"You will not hurt my baby," she said with a protective force she didn't know she possessed. "I won't let you!"
Everything after that was a blur of blood, screams, and pain. The last thing she felt were her limbs being torn apart. Her last coherent thought was about how much she loved Gregory. She died with her daughter's name on her lips.