Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Demons from the past come back pretty easily. And if they’re determined enough, they will hunt you down through any means necessary.

-

John’s been going to town with the research. The walls are covered with information about Yellow Eyes, all sorts of weather charts, hieroglyphics, pictures, newspaper clippings, hand-written notes. There’s a shelf crammed with books. A stuffed deer head watches it all with blank disinterest.

John himself sits at a desk covered in papers, the Colt resting in front of him.

Sam leans against the kitchenette counter with Gabriel. Dean paces.

“So, this is it,” John says. “This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives, we been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace, just… nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail.”

“And that’s when you took off,” Dean says.

“Yeah,” John says. “That’s right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation.”

Gabriel looks uneasy, but he might just be thinking.

Dean walks closer to John. “Alright, so what’s this trail you found?”

“It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It’s going after families, just like it went after us.”

“Families with infants?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” John confirms. “The night of the kid’s six-month birthday.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. New information. “I was six months old that night?”

“Exactly six months,” John says.

“So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason,” Sam says. He scoffs without humor. “The same way it came for me? So Mom’s death… Gabriel… it’s all because of me?”

“We don’t know that, Sam,” Dean says.

“Oh, really?” Sam asks. “‘Cuz I’m pretty damn sure, Dean!”

Gabriel disappears from Sam’s side.

“For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault,” Dean says, frustrated.

“Right,” Sam shouts back. “It’s not my fault but it’s my problem.”

“No, it’s not your problem!” Dean shouts. “It’s our problem!”

“Okay.” John stands from the desk. “That’s enough.” He looks at his boys.

Everyone takes a breath and calms for a moment. Sam looks around and finds Gabriel missing.

“Gabe?” Sam asks, gently. “Wait, has anyone seen—”

Gabriel appears next to his boyfriend’s side. “I’m here, kiddo. Don’t worry about me.”

Sam takes Gabriel’s hand. “So why’s he doing it? What does he want?”

“Look, I wish I had more answers, I do,” John says. He gestures at his desk. “I’ve always been one step behind it. Look, I’ve never gotten there in time to save…” He looks down at the ground.

“Alright, so how do we find it? Before it hits again.” Dean leans against the desk, looking at John’s work.

“There’s signs,” John says. “It took me a while to see the pattern, but it’s there. In the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area. Cattle deaths. Temperature fluctuations. Electrical storms.” John hesitates, recalling a painful memory. “And then I went back and checked… and…”

“These things happened in Lawrence,” Dean says, a pit appearing in his stomach.

John nods. “A week before your mother died.” He looks to Sam. “And in Palo Alto, before...” John looks at Gabriel pointedly. “And these signs, they’re starting again.”

“Where?” Sam asks.

“Salvation, Iowa.”

Gabriel grips Sam’s hand tighter.

-

John’s truck and the Impala speed down a mist-covered road. Gray clouds cover the sky. The atmosphere is foreboding, especially as they pass the exit sign for Salvation on the other side of the road. Are you ready for Judgement Day?, the sign asks.

John pulls off to the side of the road to a small roadside park lined with trees, followed closely by the Impala. Everyone gets from their vehicles.

“God damn it!” John yells.

Gabriel tucks himself into Sam’s side, not at all cold in his jacket and Sam’s Stanford hoodie. Mostly, it’s an excuse to give Sam some contact. He has to ground his human.

“What is it?” Dean asks. He already has his pack out, fishing for a cigarette.

“Son of a bitch.” John smacks the bed of his truck.

“What is it?!” Dean asks.

“I just got a call from Caleb,” John says.

Dean lights his cigarette. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” John says. “Jim Murphy’s dead.”

“Pastor Jim?” Sam asks. “How?”

“His throat was slashed. He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim’s place.” Pain marks John’s face. It isn’t rare that hunters die, but a friend of a Winchester…

“A demon,” Dean says. He runs a hand through his hair.

John nods.”

“Yellow Eyes?”

“I don’t know,” John says, breathless with emotion. “Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we’re getting close.”

“What do we do?” Dean asks.

“Now, we act like every second counts,” John says. “There’s two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that’s going to be six months old in the next week.”

“Dad, that could be dozens of kids,” Sam points out. “How do we know which one’s the right one?”

“We check ‘em all, that’s how,” John says. Signature Winchester Determination. “You got any better ideas?”

The words are thick in the air. Thick as the mist, thick as the drizzle of rain, thick as the unspoken words between them.

How things have changed since a year ago.

“No, sir,” Sam says.

“I’m gonna keep an eye on everything,” Gabriel says. “Make sure nothin’ puts you kiddos in a corner.”

John nods at them, and they all return to their cars. John leans on his trunk.

Dean turns back as he opens the door and stops. “Dad?”

“Yeah,” John says, replying to the unspoken words. “It’s Jim. You know, I can’t…” his face hardens. His sons watch him with concern. “This ends, now. I’m ending it. I don’t care what it takes.”

They get back into their cars. Gabriel kisses Sam’s temple and disappears.

-

John sits in front of the Salvation Children’s Hospital as a woman in a pink dress wheels herself out, looking hopeful. Good for her. He opens up the center console and shuffles through the fake IDs stored in it, picking out one and pinning it to the front of his jacket.

-

Sam sits in a filing room with blue tiled walls, a pale blond nurse bringing him another load of files.

“Here you go, officer,” she says.

“Thank you,” Sam says.

“You’re welcome.”

Sam returns to copying birth certificates into his notebook.

-

Dean’s lucky enough to be in the presence of a tanned receptionist with long dark hair, who looks up from her clipboard to him with a soft smile.

“Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asks politely.

“Oh God, yes,” Dean says with a smile.

She smiles and looks back down.

“Only, I’m, uh… working right now, so…” Dean holds up his ID.

-

Gabriel prowls outside a few buildings before snapping to attention and disappearing.

-

Sam comes out of Salvation Medical Center, flipping through his notes. He clutches his head as he gets a vision. Visions come in flashes, with shocks of pain.

The Yellow Eyed demon is in a baby’s nursery. A mother looks out the window. There’s the sound of a train. Then the demon again.

“Hey, hey,” Gabriel says. He appears out of nowhere and holds Sam’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’ll be okay.”

“A train,” Sam breathes. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a map, unfurling it.

-

Sam’s in a park, checking his map, Carhartt falling from one shoulder. Gabriel’s by his side, prepared for another vision.

It comes, the same vision flashing in front of him once more. Pain strikes through his head. Sam adjusts his jacket and rubs at his head.

“Aw, Sammoose,” Gabriel says, tenderly.

The house is in front of them, and he doesn’t know if he got there himself or if Gabriel guided him there. The woman from his vision pushes a stroller along the road, holding an umbrella. A car beeps at her. She waves back with a polite hi!, cheery and full of life.

Sam approaches them as the rain begins to lessen. “Hi,” he says. “Here, let us hold that for you. You look like you don’t need that anymore.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She closes her umbrella while Sam holds her stroller. He looks inside.

“She’s gorgeous,” Sam says. “Is she yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, wow, hi!” Sam says to the baby. Then Gabriel elbows him in the ribs. “Oh, sorry, I’m rude. I’m Sam. This is my husband, Gabriel. We just moved in, up the block.”

“Hi. I’m Monica. This is Rosie.”

“Hiya, Rosie,” Gabriel says to the baby. He smiles widely and wiggles his fingers in front of her. This baby has two futures, he knows. And for someone who’s tugged at the strings of fate before, he knows what he has to do to give her a normal life.

He just doesn’t know if the Winchesters will be able to.

“So, welcome to the neighborhood,” Monica says.

“Thanks,” Sam says. “She’s such a good baby!”

“I know. I mean she… she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you and I swear it’s… it’s like she’s reading your mind.” Monica is all smiles.

Gabriel laughs and looks at the pensive baby. “That’s how one of my little siblings was when he was a baby,” he says. “Just sorta staring at everyone. Oh, he had these… just big blue eyes. He grew up and he still looks at everyone the same way.”

“What about you, Monica? Have you lived here long?”

“My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born.”

“And how old’s Rosie?” Sam asks.

“She’s six months today,” Monica says. “She’s big, right? Growing like a weed.”

Sam looks down at the baby. He has the same knowledge as Gabriel, or at least he thinks he does. This child, she can either be normal, or she can be like Sam. And Sam is willing to fight like hell to give this poor girl a life she would love instead of one torn to pieces by tragedy.

“Yeah,” Sam says. “Monica…”

“Yeah?” she asks.

“Just take care of yourself,” Gabriel pipes up. He smiles. “You know, we’re supposed to adopt a kiddo ourselves pretty soon. Maybe one day we’ll be exhausted parents together, huh?”

Monica smiles kindly at them. “We’ll see you around,” she says. She turns to her house, a red station wagon pulling into the drive. It honks. “There’s Daddy!” she says to Rosie.

A man walks from the car and greets both Monica and Rosie.

Sam’s vision punches him in the gut.

The bedroom clock stops. Nursery rhyme stops playing. The silence is oppressive, everything dark and gothic. Wind sweeps through. A black figure approaches the bed. Monica opens the door.

“What are you…?”

The demon turns to her. She’s pulled to the wall and up to the ceiling. Blood drips from her stomach.

“Rosie!”

Flames.

-

Sam sits at the motel table, rubbing at his temples. Gabriel leans against his side. Dean and John sit on the end of each bed, watching them both.

“A vision,” John says flatly.

“Yes,” Sam says, slowly. It’s pulling teeth, explaining things to John. “I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling.”

“And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…”

“Because these things happen exactly the way I see them,” Sam explains.

“It started out as nightmares. Then it started happening while he was awake.” Dean gets off the bed and walks to the counter to get more coffee, standing behind Sam and Gabriel.

Sam winces. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s like—I don’t know, the closer I get to anything to do with the demon, the stronger the visions get.”

“Alright,” John says. He turns to Dean. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

Sam and Dean stop, turning to look at John. Gabriel clenches his fists.

“We didn’t know what it meant,” Dean says.

“Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me,” John commands.

Dean dumps the coffee back into the pot and slams the cup on the countertop. Then he strides to John with confidence. “Call you? Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice dangerous and angry. “Dad, I called you from Lawrence, alright? Sam called you when I was dying.” Dean gestures angrily to Gabriel. “We can just pray to feathers over here and he’ll show up. Getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery.”

Gabriel glares at John.

“You’re right,” John says, stepping down. “Although I’m not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Look, guys, visions or no visions, fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family’s gonna go through the same hell we went through.” Sam pulls Gabriel close to him.

Gabriel nuzzles against his side.

“No, they’re not,” John says. “No one is. Ever again.”

Dean walks back to his coffee cup.

Sam’s phone rings. He answers it. “Hello?”

“Sam?”

“Who is this?” Sam asks.

“Think real hard,” the silky, holier-than-thou voice says. “It will come to you.”

“Meg,” Sam says.

Dean and John startle at the name and turn to Sam.

“Last time I saw you, Gabriel pushed you out a window.”

“Yeah,” Meg says. “That really hurt my feelings, by the way.”

“Just your feelings?” Gabriel asks.

“That was a seven-story drop,” Sam says.

“Lemme speak to your dad.”

Sam looks at John. “My dad,” he repeats. “I don’t know where my dad is.”

“It’s time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam. Let me speak to him now.”

Gabriel grits his teeth and takes the phone from Sam. “Let’s talk, then,” he says, loudly. “Since we’re the most grown-up here, aren’t we? Even though you’re just a baby.”

“Ah,” Meg says. “Vermin. I can nearly smell you through the phone.”

“Right back at you.” Gabriel snaps up a martini. “So tell me, whippersnapper. What I gotta do to put you in a corner? Kill you for real this time?” He holds the phone between his cheek and shoulder to stir his martini. “‘Cuz, you know, I’d love to see you dead more’n anything. Killin’ people’s one thing, but trying to force yourself on someone? Even demons have standards. What would Luci think of you—”

“Give the phone to John Winchester before I kill his friend.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “You’re a real charmer, did you know that? Patience is a virtue. Anyone ever teach you that where you’re from, or was dear old dad more of a fan of the vices?” He still hands the phone to John regardless.

“This is John,” John says, eyeing Gabriel suspiciously.

“Finally. A real adult.”

“I was here before you were a twinkle in your daddy’s gross eyes,” Gabriel announces loudly.

“Howdy, John. I’m Meg. I’m a friend of your boys,” Meg says. “I’m also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood. Still there, John-boy?”

“I’m here,” John says.

“Well, that was yesterday. Today I’m in Lincoln. Visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi.” She lowers the phone to him.

“John, whatever you do, don’t give—”

“Caleb?” John asks.

Sam and Dean go onto alert, ready to jump into action if they need to.

There’s nothing they can do. But they don’t know this.

“You listen to me,” John says. “He’s got nothing to do with anything. You let him go.”

“We know you have the Colt, John,” Meg says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” John shakes his head.

“Oh, okay. Well, listen to this.” Over the phone, Meg slits Caleb’s throat, and holds the phone so John can hear him gasping, choking on his own blood.

“Caleb!” John yells.

“You hear that?” Meg asks, voice smooth and unbothered. “That’s the sound of your friend dying. Now let’s try this again. We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved… they’ll all die unless you give us that gun.”

Gabriel’s showing his teeth like an animal, gritted hard enough to draw blood if he had any.

John quietly thinks. Sam’s by his side, watching him. Dean strides to the door and lights up a cigarette.

“I’m waiting, Johnny. Better answer before the buzzer.”

“Dad, we have Gabriel,” Sam says. “He can—”

“Okay,” John says, quietly.

“Sorry?” Meg asks. “I didn’t quite get that.”

“I said okay, I’ll bring you the Colt,” John says.

“There’s a warehouse in Lincoln, on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You’re gonna meet me there,” Meg says.

“It’s gonna take me about a day’s drive to get there,” John argues without any venom. He sounds exhausted.

“Meet me there at midnight tonight,” Meg says.

“That’s impossible,” John says. “I can’t get there in time and I can’t just carry a gun on the plane.”

“Oh,” Meg says. “Well, I guess your friends die, don’t they? If you do decide to make it, come alone.” She hangs up.

Gabriel finishes his martini and snaps the empty glass away.

-

Sam’s hands are firmly tucked into the pockets of his Carhartt, one looped around Gabriel. “So, you think Meg is a demon?”

“Either that, or she’s possessed by one. It doesn’t really matter,” John says.

Sam looks at Gabriel. “You know what she is, don’t you? A demon, right?”

Gabriel nods. “Oh, she’s a demon, alright.”

“What do we do?” Dean asks. He’s smoked half the cigarette already.

“I’m going to Lincoln.”

“What?” Dean asks.

“It doesn’t look like we have a choice,” John argues. “If I don’t go, a lot of people die. Our friends die.”

“Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family,” Sam says. “That gun is all we got, you can’t just hand it over.”

“Who said anything about handing it over?” John asks, all trickstery. He’s where the boys get their jester’s attitude from. “Look, besides us and a couple’a vampires, no one’s really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like.”

“So what, you’re just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?” Dean asks. He ashes his cigarette.

“Antique store,” John corrects.

“You’re going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?” Dean puts out his cigarette and lights another one. His hands tremble with rage.

“Look, as long as it’s close, she shouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” John reasons.

“Yeah, but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?” Dean asks.

“I just… I just need to buy a few hours, that’s all.”

“You mean for Dean and Gabriel and me,” Sam says, all measured deadpan. “You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?”

“I want to stop losing people we love,” John says. “I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home.” He turns to look out the window, though it’s covered by a gauzy ivory curtain. The light frames him like a war hero. “I want… I want Mary alive.” His voice trembles. He faces his boys again, tears in his eyes. “It’s just… I want this to be over.” Pain floods his voice. “You have Gabriel. If anything goes wrong with you… then he’ll make sure Yellow Eyes dies.”

-

Sam and Gabriel stand with John at the back of his truck, checking weapons. They’re silent. Even Gabriel, who chatters nearly every second of every day, is completely silent. Inhumanly silent. He doesn’t make a single sound, as though he isn’t letting his body make any.

Even the weather is miserable, Still drizzling, and cold enough that their breath shows. Mud collects on the bottom of their shoes.

The Impala comes toward them. Dean gets out, already lighting his cigarette.

“You get it?” John asks.

Dean pulls a brown paper bag from his inside pocket and hands it to John. John pulls out an antique gun. “You know this is a trap, don’t you?” Dean asks. He takes a deep drag. “That’s why Meg wants you to come alone.”

“I can handle her,” John says. He turns the gun in his hands. “I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, mandaic, amulets…”

“Dad…”

“What?” John asks.

“Promise me something.” Dean ashes his cigarette.

“What’s that?” John asks, but it’s less of a question than a demand.

“This thing goes south, just… get the hell out. Don’t get yourself killed, alright? You’re no good to us dead.” He glances at Sam, then looks back at John.

“Same goes for you,” John says.

Gabriel steps forward. “You know, I don’t have a father,” he confesses, his voice steady. “I haven’t for years. I don’t know where he went, and some of my siblings have devoted their whole lives to finding him. Life’s different when you lose your dad.” He gives John a heavy, hard look, weighted with lifetimes of knowledge. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Gabriel,” John says, as an acknowledgement. He looks between Gabriel and Sam, then sighs. “Sam, I’m… I’m glad that you found someone who makes you happy. I’m not happy it’s an angel, or a man, but… if he makes you happy, and he helps you hunt…” He shakes his head. “You’re a good man, Gabriel. Keep Sam safe.”

He turns to Dean next.

“Dean,” he says. “Don’t smoke in my damn car.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean says, looking away, embarrassed by his bad habit.

“Keep your brother safe if Gabriel can’t. And…” He claps Dean on the shoulder. “You’re doing me proud, son.” He lets go of Dean’s shoulder, then clears his throat, pulling the real Colt from his pocket and comparing it to the false one. “Now, listen to me. They made the bullets special for this Colt. There’s only four of them left. Without them, this gun is useless. You make every shot count.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam says.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows, remembering John hasn’t seen the full extent of his archangel abilities. Well, neither have the boys, but at least they appreciate his ability to kill shit.

“Been waiting a long time for this fight,” John continues. “Now it’s here, I’m not gonna be in it. It’s up to you boys now. It’s your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?”

Dean stares at him. Sam nods.

He hands Dean the Colt.

“We’ll see you soon, Dad,” Sam says, voice choked up with emotion.

“I’ll see you later,” John says. He gets in the truck and leaves.

Gabriel and the Winchester boys stand, watching him pull away into the distance. Cold, muddy water splashes in his wake.

“Later,” Dean says.

-

Johnny boy pulls up to a sketchy warehouse in his truck, then gets out with the antique gun, a rosary, and a flask of holy water, because there’s no point in going in unless you’re going in with guns blazing. He jogs along an alley and checks the pipes running along the walls.

-

Sam and Dean sit in the front seat of the Impala, Colt between them. Gabriel’s in the back, seemingly tuned into Angel Radio. The Winchesters watch Monica and her husband.

“You don’t think dad—”

“Sammy. Shut up.” Dean rolls down his window and lights a cigarette.

“Dad told you not to—”

“Sammy. Seriously.” Dean takes a deep drag of his cigarette. “Don’t you know when to shut up? And if you got a problem with the smokin’, why don’t you take it up with your boyfriend? He’s the one who gave them to me in the first place.”

“That’s childish,” Gabriel says. His voice is serious and flat. “I cut out the middleman ‘n saved five bucks. I won’t bother next time.”

“Thought you were on the radio, feathers.”

Gabriel glares at him through the rearview. “I’m tryin’ to save your daddy, actually, before he gets himself killed.” He snaps his fingers and Sam appears in the backseat next to him. “I need the moral support.”

Dean shuts up and watches Monica and her husband finish dinner.

“Maybe we could tell ‘em it was a gas leak,” Sam suggests. “Might get ‘em out of the house for a few hours.”

“Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?” Dean asks.

“Yeah.” Sam pauses to think. He wraps his arm around Gabriel’s waist and lets Gabriel rest his head on his shoulder. “Is that my hoodie?”

“Mm-hmm,” Gabriel says.

“We could always tell ‘em the truth,” Sam suggests to Dean.

Dean turns around and looks at them both for a long moment, one eyebrow raised.

“Nah,” he and Sam say together.

“I’m trying to focus.” Gabriel’s eyes are still closed. From the outside looking in, it looks like he’s sleeping against his boyfriend’s shoulder, not potentially keeping his father-in-law alive.

Sam runs his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. “I know, I know,” Sam says. “I just… with what’s coming for these people…”

“Sam, we only got one move and you know it, alright? We gotta wait for that demon to show itself and then we get it before it gets them.” Dean ashes his cigarette.

The Winchester brothers both look at the house for a while. Dean finishes his cigarette. He lights another.

“I wonder how Dad’s doing,” Dean says.

“I’d feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.” Sam looks down at Gabriel. “Guess it’s better that Gabe’s watching him.”

Dean sighs.

-

John opens up the water tank on the roof, holds the rosary up. Says a little prayer in Latin, then he’s all done, so he drops the rosary into the water.

Smart move, really. But you don’t get this far by being dumb.

-

“This is weird,” Sam says.

“What?” Dean asks, now on his third cigarette.

“After all of these years, we’re finally here. It doesn’t seem real.”

“We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always,” Dean says.

“Yeah, but this isn’t like always.” Sam looks down at Gabriel and kisses the top of his head.

“True,” Dean agrees.

“Dean… ah… I wanna thank you.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For everything,” Sam says, thinking of their entire childhood. Well, really his childhood, because from what he knows, Dean didn’t have much of one. Dean’s childhood was spent making sure Sam could have a life. “You’ve always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn’t count on anyone, I could always count on you.” He looks down at Gabriel. From what he’s heard… Gabriel never really had someone he could always count on. Just himself and the sheer force of his personality. “Some people don’t have that.” He looks back at Dean. “Ah, uh… I don’t know, I just wanted to let you know. Just in case.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you kidding me?” Dean ashes his cigarette.

“What?” Sam asks.

“Don’t say ‘just in case something happens to you’. I don’t wanna hear that freaking speech, man, Nobody’s dying tonight.” He gestures wildly with his cigarette. “Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain’t getting any older than tonight, you understand me?”

-

Meg’s in the middle of the warehouse and turns to see good old John walking towards her. He stops just a few feet short.

“John, you made it. Too bad, really. I was hoping to kill more of your friends.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” John says. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor in life or death situations. Dean must’ve gotten his from somewhere else.

“I can see where your boys get their good looks. Though I must admit, considering what they say about you, I thought you’d be… taller.”

John just stares at her.

Contrary to popular belief, kids, you don’t have to be tall to kick ass.

“Well, aren’t you the chatty one. Though if I wanted to chat, I’d probably have asked for the vermin.” Med tilts her head. “You wanna get to business? Fine. Why don’t you just hand over the gun.”

It’s a pity that Meg ended up being a demon. The vessel’s a pretty girl. Probably had a family that loved her, friends who enjoyed her presence. Could’ve had a long, happy life.

Demons always get in the way of things.

“If I give you the gun, how do I get out of here?” John asks.

“If you’re as good as they say you are, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

“Maybe I’ll just shoot you,” John threatens darkly.

“You wanna shoot me, baby? Go ahead. There’s more where I came from.”

A male demon walks from the shadows. He’s fine-looking, too, if you’re curious, but he doesn’t have the sheer amount of stage presence that Meg does. Say what you will about her. She att least knows how to command attention.

“Who the hell’s that?” John asks.

“He’s not nearly as much fun as I am, I can tell you that. So I suggest you give us the gun.”

John stares at the other demon for a few long seconds, then back at Meg, hesitant.

We know where the boys get their acting abilities from, don’t we?

“Now!” Meg barks.

John hands the gun to her.

She checks it out, suspicious as ever. “This is the Colt?” she asks.

John nods.

Meg hands the gun to the other demon, which is like signing your death warrant in your own blood. “What do you think?”

He looks at it, points it at the ceiling, cocks it, and then shoots Meg in the side. Blood blooms against her white shirt.

Well, trying to kill your boss is a great way to get fired if you fuck up.

Meg staggers back. “You shot me!” she yells. “I can’t believe you just shot me!”

“It’s a fake,” the other demon deadpans.

Well, looks like Johnny boy’s in some trouble, isn’t he?

-

Gabriel’s brow furrows. He grits his teeth and leans further into Sam’s side.

-

“You’re dead, John. Your boys are dead.”

John backs away. If he can’t shoot his way through a situation, he can charm and scheme and lie. “I’ve never used the gun. How could I know it wouldn’t work?”

“I'm so not in the mood for this. I’ve just been shot!” Meg advances after him like a cat after a mouse.

“Well, then, I guess you’re lucky the gun wasn’t real.”

Oh, that John Winchester. He’s pretty funny, isn’t he?

“That’s funny, John,” Meg says, voice lyrical, but just as intense. “We’re going to strip the skin from your bones, but that was funny.”

A noise sounds, distracting Meg, and good old John takes that moment to run into the other room and lock the door behind him. He goes down a hatch into the alley from earlier. You know the one. With the pipes? Yeah.

Meg and the other demon follow him.

John reaches the other end, turns on a tap, and water just sprays all over the floor. It’s a real flood. The other demon pauses, then continues, now in front of Meg, but his feet steam. He jumps backwards and yells.

Funny. Very funny.

“Holy water, John,” Meg says. Her voice echoes. “Real cute.”

John has the gall to smile before he takes off.

Well, that must be where Sam gets his cute little cocky grin from.

-

Dean’s on his phone and his fourth cigarette. “Dad’s not answering,” he says.

“Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception’s bad,” Sam suggests. He looks down at Gabriel. “Gabe, what—”

“Yeah, well…” Dean re-dials.

The radio buzzes with static.

“Dean, wait. Listen.” Sam leans forward and turns the dial on the radio all the way up. Static comes and goes. The wind picks up and howls around the car. The lights inside the house flicker.

Gabriel’s eyes pop open. “Showtime.”

The Winchesters jump from the car.

-

John’s truck, tires slashed.

Fuck.

-

Dean uses a credit card and slides the lock on the front door open. The Winchesters enter the house silently. They approach the lounge, Sam and Gabriel leading. Dean’s confronted by Monica’s husband, who comes at him swinging with a baseball bat. He misses and smashes a lamp.

“Get out of my house!”

Dean grapples with him, grabbing his arm and successfully disarming him.

“Get out of my house!” he repeats.

“Please, please,” Sam begs. “Mister Holden, please.”

Dean takes control of the situation, throwing Holden against the wall with the bat across his throat. “Be quiet and listen to me,” he says, sharply. “Be quiet and listen. We are trying to help you.”

“Charlie?” Monica asks from upstairs. “Is everything okay down there?”

“Monica, get the baby!” Charlie yells.

“Don’t go in the nursery!” Sam yells.

“You stay away from her!” Charlie says. He struggles against Dean.

Dean, always the pragmatic pacifist, backhands him, knocking him unconscious against the wall, and puts him over his shoulder. Classic fireman's lift.

-

Monica’s pinned against the ceiling by an invisible force. Sam and Gabriel burst into the room.

Yellow Eyes, the dark figure himself. The cause of all of Sam’s issues.

Gabriel’s breathing heavy, for once. Sam’s frozen.

“Rosie!” Monica yells from the ceiling.

Sam raises the Colt and pulls the trigger. The demon disappears into a puff of dark black smoke, and Monica falls to the floor. “Where the hell did it go?!”

“My baby!” Monica stands, and tries to run forward to the crib, but Sam holds her back. “My baby!” she yells, fighting against him.

“No, wait!” Sam says.

“My baby!” Monica fights as hard as she can against Sam.

Sam looks at Gabriel, whose face has gone hard, and he looks like he’s concentrating on something.

“I should kill you,” Gabriel whispers.

Dean dashes past them to the crib. “Take her and go!” He makes sure the baby’s still actually there, amazed that this is going so well.

“Rosie!” Monica yells.

“Come on,” Sam begs her.

“My baby!” Monica protests.

“Dean’s got her.” Sam forces her from the room with all six feet four of him.

Dean wraps the blankets around Rosie and pulls her up. And then the crib bursts into flames. He races out of the room. “Gabe, dude, c’mon!” He grabs a fistful of Gabriel’s hoodie and pulls him along.

Gabriel seems to come back to himself and snaps them from the house.

-

John stops at a dead end, gasping. He grabs for his phone, but he’s pinned against the wall and loses his grip. The male demon stands in front of John. He smiles.

Fuck.

-

The nursery window explodes, flames and broken glass shooting from it. The doorway is full of smoke. Sam and Monica run from it, coughing.

Charlie staggers up from the grass. “You get away from my family.”

“No, Charlie, don’t. They saved us,” Monica says.

Dean and Gabriel appear, holding Rosie.

Monica begins crying. “I mean, they saved us.” She takes the baby from Dean. Her husband puts his arms around both of them. They’re all terrified, but safe. For now. Tomorrow morning, they will learn about the terrors of the world. “Thank you,” Monica tells the Winchesters and Gabriel.

Sam and Dean turn back to the burning house.

The nursery window. There’s the demon, silhouetted in the burning nursery, completely still in the carnage it’s caused.

But another life hasn’t been ruined.

“It’s still in there!” Sam starts charging in.

Gabriel grabs him. “No,” he whispers.

“Sam.” Dean grabs his other side. “Sam, no.”

“Dean, Gabe—lemme go. It’s still in there. We gotta—”

“No,” Dean says. It’s burning to the ground. It’s suicide.”

“I don’t care!” Sam yells. His eyes burn with anger, and fear, and other emotions. It’s the thing that ruined his life. Took his mom. Tried to take Gabriel. He has to kill it before other kids end up like him. It’s his duty. His sacred duty.

“I do!” Dean yells.

The demon disappears. Gabriel gives him the finger.

-

Dean’s pacing around the motel room, holding the phone to his ear, smoking a cigarette. Sam sits on the bed with Gabriel.

“Come on, Dad, answer your phone, damn it,” Dean says, frustrated. He hangs up when he gets voicemail again. “Something’s wrong.”

Sam’s staring at the wall, angry. He’s not touching Gabriel at all.

“You hear me?” Dean asks. “Something’s wrong,” he repeats.

“If you had just let me go in there, I could’ve ended all this.” Sam’s voice is deadpan and low. “Both of you.”

“Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life.” Dean puts out his cigarette.

“You don’t know that,” Sam argues.

“I do,” Gabriel argues back. His hair is fluffed up and his sleeves are rolled all the way up past his elbows.

“You could’ve saved me then!” Sam argues.

Gabriel stands and walks away from him.

“So what, you’re just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?” Dean asks, walking toward the bed.

“Yeah,” Sam says, standing from the bed. Gabriel looks at him, eyes hard. “Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen, not as long as I’m around.” Dean stands in front of his brother. “And what about your boyfriend? Huh? Someone who loves you.”

“We’ve been searching for this demon our whole lives,” Sam says. “It’s the only thing we’ve ever cared about.”

“Sam, I wanna waste it,” Dean says, raising his voice. “I do. Okay? But it’s not worth dying over.”

“What?” Sam asks.

“I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing.” His eyes are open and full of fire.

“That thing killed mom. That thing tried killing Gabriel.”

“And you want yourself dead so you can’t even enjoy me being alive!” Gabriel says from across the room. He snaps next to Sam. “You can’t just run into a situation all suicidal ‘cuz you got an archangel in your life now. I can’t protect you from everything in the world, Sam.” He pushes Sam’s chest. “D’you get it? Yellow Eyes—he isn’t gonna stop until he gets what he wants. And you don’t want to know what he wants.”

“What does he want, then?” Sam demands.

Gabriel looks at Sam and shakes his head. “Something terrible,” he says. “Really, cupcake. He—He’s planning something terrible.”

Sam crosses his arms. “You can’t tell me?”

“I don’t have all the details yet, okay?” Gabriel scrubs at his face. “I don’t know. Something with the kids. I’ve been asking around on Angel Radio. But no one really knows.” He shoves his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “But you can’t die. Not yet. It’s not your time.”

“How do you know when my time is?” It’s not a question. Sam looks exhausted and ragged.

“Because I know things,” Gabriel says. “Archangel.” He looks up at Sam, face gravely serious. He looks older than his vessel has looked to the Winchesters before. “You’re gonna live a long, happy life.” He looks at Dean. “Both of you. That’s your fate. And as much as I love meddling with fate, I’m not gonna get either of you chucklefucks kill yourselves doing some stupid shit like running into a burning building to fight a demon.” He glares at Sam. “So if you’re mad at me for that, fine. Whatever. I don’t care.”

Sam’s shoulders drop. He grabs Gabriel and holds him close.

“Sam, look,” Dean says, quietly. “The four of us… that’s all we have. And it’s all I have. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together, man… and without you or Gabriel or dad…”

“Dad,” Sam says. He lets go of Gabriel and walks across the room. His eyes are full of unshed, nervous tears. “He should have called by now. Try him again.”

Dean takes a deep breath, then raises his phone to his face.

-

On a bench, John’s phone rings. Meg picks it up. She looks at the screen, smiles, and answers it. “You boys really screwed up this time,” she says.

“Where is he?” Dean grits through his teeth.

“You’re never going to see your father again.”

Chapter Text

Dean hangs up his phone, closing it with a snap. “They’ve got dad,” he says. He strides across the room.

“Meg?” Sam asks.

Dean nods.

“What’d she say?”

“I just told you, Sammy.” Dean gets out a cigarette. “Okay. Okay.” He flicks his lighter on and lights the cigarette. Then he takes the Colt from beside the motel phone and tucks it into the back of his jeans, almost nonchalant.

“What are you doing, Dean?” Sam asks.

Dean grabs his duffel bag. “We got to go.”

“Why?” Sam asks.

Dean puts on his jacket. “Because the demon knows we’re in Salvation, alright? It knows we got the Colt. It’s got dad. It’s probably coming for us next.”

“Good. We’ve still got three bullets left. Let it come.”

“Listen, tough guy, we’re not ready, okay?” Dean asks. “We don’t know how many of them are out there. Like Gabriel said—it’s not our time. We’re not good to anybody if we run into an early grave. We’re leaving now.”

-

The Impala speeds down the road and takes a fast left turn onto another. It’s still drizzling.

“I’m telling you, Dean, we could have taken him,” Sam says. He’s in the backseat with Gabriel. Gabriel’s holding his hand tight, a green jacket now over his hoodie.

“What we need is a plan,” Dean says around his cigarette. “Now, they’re probably keeping dad alive, we just gotta figure out where. They’re gonna wanna trade him for the gun.”

Sam shakes his head.

“What?” Dean asks.

“Dean, if that were true, why didn’t Meg mention a trade? Dad, he might be—”

“Don’t!” Dean snaps. “Gabe, you’ll know this. What’s his time to die?”

“Not yet,” Gabriel says, then leans against Sam’s shoulder.

“Look, I don’t want to believe it any more than you. But if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing,” Sam reasons. “We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job.”

“Screw the job, Sam!” Dean yells. He throws the butt of his cigarette out of the window and pulls out another while Sam speaks.

“Dean, I’m just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going.”

“Quit talking about him like he’s dead already,” Dean snaps at him. He lights a cigarette one-handed, glancing at Sam in the rearview mirror. “Gabe said it’s not his time. And listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything.”

Sam pauses to think. “So how do we find him?”

“Maybe we go to Lincoln,” Dean says. “Start at the warehouse where he was taken.”

“You think these demons’re gonna leave a trail? What’s this, Scooby-Doo?” Gabriel rubs at his temples. “Angel Radio’s real loud today.”

“What’re they saying?” Sam asks. He leans down to kiss Gabriel’s temple like Gabriel does to him when he has a headache. It doesn’t alleviate the pain, because he’s not an archangel and he can’t take away Gabriel’s pain, but it’s a very thoughtful gesture regardless.

“It’s all in Enochian, but they’re commenting on all the demonic activity. They don’t like Yellow Eyes.”

“What the hell’s emo-chan?” Dean’s brow furrows. He ashes his cigarette.

“Enochian.” Sam ruffles Gabriel’s hair. “It’s the language of angels.”

“‘Kay,” Dean says, shaking his head. He twists his wrist to adjust his bracelets. “We need help.”

“As in, from above? ‘Cuz you’ve already got me, and it’s never getting any better than this.” Gabriel beams and points at himself with his thumbs. It’s all false bravado.

Dean rolls his eyes. “We know someone.”

-

It’s daytime by the time they get there, sun peeking from the trees around them. Dean drives the Impala into a junkyard, surrounded by the type of cars that you’re not surprised are in a lot overrun by weeds. Hubcaps are nailed to the house’s faded blue siding. On the hood of an old blue tow truck rests an old, large dark, chained to a post more for your protection than his.

-

The inside of the house is as much of a mess as the outside, books scattered everywhere. Papers line every wall.

Bobby, a middle-aged man with a large beard and a frayed trucker’s hat, picks up two round silver flasks. They’ve got crosses on them. He hands one of them to Dean. “Here you go,” Bobby says.

Sam and Gabriel sit at a cluttered desk, reading from a huge book.

“What is this—holy water?” Dean asks.

“That one is.” He holds out the other flask. “This is whiskey.” He takes a swig before handing it to Dean.

Dean also drinks. “Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure we should come.”

“Nonsense. Your daddy needs to help.”

“Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot,” Dean says. “Cocked the shotgun and everything.”

Bobby takes a deep, dramatic breath. “Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people.”

“Yeah, I guess he does,” Dean says with a cockeyed smile.

“None of that matters now,” Bobby says, firmly. “All that matters is that you get him back.”

“Bobby, this book… I’ve never seen anything like it,” Sam says. He looks at Gabriel. Gabriel raises his eyebrows and shrugs. He shifts where he’s sitting on Sam’s lap and traces his finger over one of the circles.

Bobby comes over to Sam and Gabriel and sits on the corner of the desk. He eyes Gabriel with interest. “Key of Solomon? It’s the real deal, alright.”

“And these, uh, these protective circles. They really work?”

“‘Course they do,” Gabriel answers, before he remembers he’s supposed to be quiet and clueless.

Bobby looks at Gabriel. “I agree with blondie here. You get a demon in—they’re trapped. Powerless. It’s like a Satanic roach motel.”

Sam chuckles.

Dean comes over to them. “Man knows his stuff.”

“I’ll tell you something else, too,” Bobby says. “This is some serious crap you boys stepped in.”

Gabriel stops tracing the circle and looks up.

“Oh, yeah?” Sam asks. “How’s that?”

“Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions,” Bobby says. “Maybe four, tops.”

Gabriel looks away and rubs at his temples.

“This year, I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I’m saying? More and more demons are walking among us—a lot more.” Bobby looks at Gabriel. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Gabriel raises his eyebrows. “Me? I’m just your typical hunter’s boyfriend,” he says.

“Mm-hmm,” Bobby says, unconvinced.

“Do you know why?” Sam asks Bobby, trying to avoid a confrontation.

“No, but I know it’s something big. The storm’s coming, and you boys, your daddy—you are smack in the middle of it.” Bobby hasn’t taken his eyes off Gabriel. “But tell me, what’s bringing all these demons out?”

“Well, I hear you catch more flies with honey, so maybe God spilled the sugar?” Gabriel suggests.

The dog barks outside.

“Rumsfeld,” Bobby says. He goes over to the window, but the dog stops barking and whines. “What is it?” he asks himself. He looks out the window. The chains’ hanging, broken, and the dog’s gone. “Something’s wrong,” he announces.

Meg kicks in the door and saunters in.

“Anyone ever teach you to knock? What, were you born in a barn?” Gabriel asks.

“Hello, vermin,” Meg says.

“Who’s the vermin here?” Gabriel asks.

Dean slips the flask of holy water from his pocket.

“No more crap, okay?” Meg asks.

Dean charges her, unscrewing the flask, but Meg hits him, and he goes flying into a stack of books and goes limp.

Sam jumps up and steps in front of Bobby, standing between him and Meg. Gabriel rolls his eyes and stands in front of Sam, arms crossed.

“I want the Colt, Sam. The real Colt. Right now,” Meg demands.

The humans (and Gabriel) slowly move across the room, and Meg follows them.

“We don’t have it on us,” Sam says. “We buried it.”

“Didn’t I say ‘no more crap’?” Meg asks. “I swear—after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I’m a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

Pressed against a wall.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows. “And I heard demons were crafty. I’m disappointed.”

“We were counting on it,” Dean says, stepping behind her.

Meg turns to look at him.

Dean stares at her, then looks up at the ceiling. She also looks up, and sees a large protective symbol etched into the ceiling.

“Gotcha.” Dean smiles at her, all teeth.

-

Meg’s tied to a chair in the middle of the room. The Winchesters watch her. Gabriel’s uninterested, drinking a beer.

“You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask,” Meg says.

“Oh, I love tying Sam up, but y’know, I really don’t think you’re our type.” Gabriel drinks his beer. He’s replaced the liquid inside with a mint julep, but he really doesn’t want Bobby to try killing him because he’s something not of this earth, so he’s still drinking it from a beer bottle.

Bobby comes into the room, carrying a large can of salt. “I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there—they ain’t getting in.”

Dean nods and stands, moving around Bobby and Sam so he can stand in front of Meg. “Where’s our father, Meg?”

“You didn’t ask very nice,” Meg says.

“Where’s our father, bitch?” Dean asks again, deadpan.

“Jeez,” Meg says. “You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t.” She smiles.

Dean lunges forward at her, putting his hands on her chair arms, blocking Meg in. “You think this is a friggin’ game?” he yells. “Where is he?! What did you do to him?”

“He died screaming,” Meg says. “I killed him myself.”

Dean looks at her with hatred, then hits her across her face.

“They know it’s not his time,” Gabriel says. “So, y’know. Let’s tell the truth, huh?” He leans against Sam and rests his beer bottle against his temple.

“Ironic, that you’re lecturing someone on telling the truth,” Meg says. Then she looks at Dean with a lavacious smile. “That’s kind of a turn on—you hitting a girl.”

“You’re no girl,” Dean says.

“Used to be,” Gabriel says. He looks at Meg, sees her for the ugliness that’s inside of her now, and looks away.

Bobby stands and walks into the next room. “Dean,” he calls.

Dean follows, and where Dean goes, Sam goes, and where Sam goes—well, you get the rest.

“You okay?” Sam asks, quietly. Dean smells like cigarettes, and he’s fiddling with his ring like he wants another.

“She’s lying,” Dean says, with certainty. “He’s not dead.”

“Dean, you gotta be careful with her,” Bobby says. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Why?” Dean asks.

“Because she really is a girl, that’s why,” Bobby says.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asks. He wraps his arm around Gabriel’s shoulders. Gabriel tucks himself against his side.

“She’s possessed. That’s a human possessed by a demon. Can’t you tell?” Bobby asks. He looks to her. Dean follows his gaze.

“Are you trying to tell me there’s an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?” Dean asks.

Meg stares at him, all darkness in her eyes.

Gabriel sets down his beer bottle and crosses his arms. “Seriously? Don’t you remember anything you’ve seen this year? Demons need vessels to exist on earth. They can’t just exist in their true forms, or no one would ever listen to them. They’re some ugly sons of bitches, anyways.”

Bobby looks pointedly at Gabriel.

Dean looks over at Meg, who stares at them. “That’s actually good news.”

-

While Sam’s looking through a thick book for an exorcism, and Dean’s watching over him, Bobby takes Gabriel off to the side.

“What the hell are you?” Bobby demands.

“Pansexual,” Gabriel says. “Taken, too, so if you’re trying to make a proposition, you’re gonna have to fight Sam for me.” He gives Bobby a smug little look.

“I’m not afraid to find a way to figure out what you are the hard way, but I’d rather ask nicely first and not break the poor boy’s heart.”

Gabriel looks at Sam over his shoulder. “Name’s Gabriel. Nice to meet you, father of the Winchesters.”

“You’ve met John. You know I ain’t their daddy.”

“I know you’re the one who took care of them their entire childhood. When Dean wasn’t taking care of Sam. I know you’re the one who would make ‘em soup when they’re sick and actually make sure they went to school every day. And I know you’re the one who took care of Dean when Johnny Winchester beat him past recognition for bein’ queer.” Gabriel looks at Bobby with his sharp golden eyes. “I know things, Bobby Singer. ‘Cuz I’m an angel.”

Bobby’s jaw tightens. “Angel?”

“Archangel, to be exact.” Gabriel snaps up a knife. “You can cut me, if you want. Burn me. Shoot me. Stab me with a wooden stake. I won’t die.” He looks back at Sam.

“And you know somethin’. You ain’t telling the boys everything you know,” Bobby says. His eyes are sharp, but less so. “Put the damn knife away.”

“I know many things. Candy bar?”

Bobby’s brow furrows. “No,” he says. “I mean, you know somethin’ about everythin’ that’s happening. What’d you mean, ‘it’s not his time’?”

“There’s this Japanese comic. It’s called Death Note. There are these creatures called Shinigami—they’re Japanese gods of death—who can see people’s lifelines above their heads.” Gabriel fiddles with the collar of his jacket. “It’s like that. I know when people die. I know the exact date and time and way.” He snaps his fingers for a rainbow lollipop. “So, when I say ‘it’s not his time’, I mean it. I know how John Winchester dies. I know how Sam dies. How Dean dies. How you die. I know it, ‘cuz it’s all planned out.” He gestures with his lollipop. “Yadda yadda, infinity, sacred geometry, It’s a Wonderful Life, whatever.”

“And how did you know there’s a girl in Meg?” Bobby asks. He’s taking everything pretty well, as far as explaining these sort of nitpicky details goes. He hasn’t lost his mind. Pragmatic and practical. Gabriel likes that. He sees where Sam and Dean get it from.

“You know what I said? About seeing people’s lifelines?” Gabriel looks at Meg with his piercing golden eyes. “I can see other angels and demons. Their true forms. I don’t look like this.” He looks back at Bobby. “My true form would melt your eyes from your skull. But I think most humans prefer their eyes in their heads, so I have this super nifty true vessel that keeps everything nice and concealed. Meg’s not like that. But then again, she doesn’t melt away her vessel like an angel would.” Gabriel chuckles. “She’s one ugly son of a bitch. Cute vessel, but ugly demon.”

Bobby shakes his head. “I don’t know why the hell Sam decided to date an angel, of all things.”

“If it makes you feel better, he didn’t know, when we first got together. I didn’t want him to kill me ‘cuz I was something he didn’t understand.” Gabriel smiles at Bobby. “Assumed you’d probably do the same thing, but I do hate bein’ stabbed, if it stays between us. Is the interrogation over?”

“This part is,” Bobby says.

“Great! Toodles.” Gabriel gives Bobby a cocky half-smile and walks over to Sam. “Hi, puddin’.” He kisses his cheek.

Sam smiles at him, softly. “Hi, Gabe.” Then he puts on his battle face, looks at Dean, and nods.

They all move over to Meg. She looks all cozy in front of the burning fireplace.

“Are you gonna read me a story?” Meg asks.

“Something like that,” Dean says. “Hit it, Sam.”

“Regna terrae, cantate deo, psallite domino…”

Gabriel licks at his lollipop and watches the scene in front of him, languishing in the exorcism. He loves it when Sam speaks Latin.

“An exorcism? Are you serious?” Meg asks Dean.

“Oh, we’re going for it, baby,” Dean says.

“You gonna puke some pea soup? Tell me ‘bout my mom?” Gabriel laughs. “You’re lucky they didn’t have me rip the demon right outta you. Hear it’s painful.”

“You can do that?” Dean asks, looking at Gabriel suspiciously.

“Oh, more or less. Details, details.” Gabriel nibbles at the lollipop.

“... tribuite virtutem deo,” Sam continues.

Meg flinches, pain filling her face.

Sam looks at Gabriel, then Dean.

Meg breathes hard, looking over her shoulder at Sam. “I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna stab your fucking angel boyfriend.” Then she turns to Dean. “I’m gonna rip the bones from your body.”

“No, you’re gonna burn in Hell. Unless you tell us where our dad is.”

Meg smiles at him.

“Well, at least you’ll get a nice tan.”

“The inner circle of Hell’s cold, actually. Ever read Dante?” Gabriel asks.

“If you weren’t sleeping with my brother, I would smack the smirk off your face,” Dean says.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows. “You’re real cute, d’you know that? Green eyes, freckles. I know a lotta angels who would trip over themselves to sleep with you.” His eyes flash and he smirks. “Certain one in particular.”

“Gross, dude. Your boyfriend’s here.” Dean makes a face.

“Oh, it’s not me. Just give it… hm, three years?” Gabriel shrugs in that cryptic way of his. “You’ll go through Hell, but it’ll be worth it.”

Sam clears his throat, then continues. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incuriso infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, onmis congregatio et secta diabolica....”

Meg’s shaking as Sam reads out the exorcism. She gasps in pain.

Sam stops.

“He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That’s when I slit his throat.” When she speaks, she has to grit the words out. It hurts like hell.

“It’s not his time yet.”

“You’re going to believe someone who’s been lying to you this whole time?” Meg looks at Gabriel. “Vermin. What haven’t you been telling these boys?”

“I haven’t told Dean how I plow his sweet baby brother three ways to Sunday and—”

“Hey!” Dean snaps.

“Ergo...”

“It’s so hot when he speaks Latin. Sometimes I make him say exorcisms in bed while he’s riding me.” Gabriel smirks at Meg, raising his eyebrows. “Knows his shit, doesn’t he?”

“Dude,” Dean says. Then he turns his attention to Meg once more. “I swear to God, I will march into Hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God!”

“Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae,” Sam continues. Wind begins blowing through the room, whipping Sam and Gabriel’s hair. “Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei. Contremisce et effuge. Invocato a nobis sancto et terribile nomine. Quem inferi tremunt…”

Meg looks pained again, letting out a loud grunt of pain.

“Where is he?” Dean snarls.

“You won’t take ‘dead’ for an answer, will you?” Meg asks. Her eyes seem far away. She trembles.

“Where is he?!”

“Dead!”

“No, he’s not! He’s not dead! He can’t be!” Dean’s yelling at this point, getting angry. His face is twisted, giving away his whole hand.

Sam looks at him with concern.

“What are you looking at? Keep reading,” Dean snaps.

“It’s not his time. She’s lying.” Gabriel looks at Meg, hair blowing into his eyes.

“Ab insidis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias, libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.”

Meg’s chair begins moving erratically around the circle she’s trapped in. Dean moves back in surprise, watching with wild eyes.

“Ut inimicos sanctae ecclesiae humiliare digneris, to rogamus audi…”

“He will be!” Meg yells.

“Wait!” Dean says. “What?”

The chair stops moving as Sam stops speaking.

Meg’s hair is ruffled. She looks like she’s been through the ringer, pain in her eyes, breathing heavily. “He’s not dead,” she continues. “But he will be after what we do to him.”

Dean glances at Sam. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?” he asks her.

“You don’t.”

“Sam!” Dean looks at his brother, fire in his eyes.

“A building!” Meg says, panicking and in pain. “Okay? A building in Jefferson City.”

“Missouri?” Dean asks. “Where, where? An address!”

“I don’t know,” Meg admits.

“And the demon—the one we’re looking for, Yellow Eyes—, where is he?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know! I swear!” Meg says, voice breaking. “That’s everything. That’s all I know.” She pants in pain, looking more like a broken shell of a girl than ever before. This might be a demon, but she’s suffering something fierce.

“Finish it,” Dean commands.

“What?” Meg asks, fear in her eyes. “I told you the truth!”

“I don’t care.” Dean’s face is cold.

Gabriel looks at Meg. The panicked demon inside her, and the girl beneath it all. “She’s not gonna live.”

“You son of a bitch, you promised,” Meg says.

“I lied! Sam?”

Sam says nothing, and Dean looks at him.

“Sam! Read.” Dean walks over to him.

“Maybe we can still use her,” Sam suggests, quietly. “Find out where the demon is.”

“It’s not gonna do anything,” Gabriel says.

“She doesn’t know. And we have Gabriel.”

“She lied,” Sam says.

“Sam, there’s an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We’ve got to help her,” Dean says.

Bobby comes up to them. “Don’t you boys listen to that angel of yours? You’re gonna kill her.”

“What?” Dean asks.

“You said she fell from a building,” Bobby says. He looks at Meg, breathing heavily and miserable in the chair she’s tied to, and the boys look at her as well. “That girl’s body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcize it—that girl is going to die.”

“Listen to me, both of you,” Dean says. “We are not gonna leave her like that.”

“She is a human being,” Bobby argues.

“You humans are squishy,” Gabriel says. “Soft. You can’t survive a fall?”

Sam looks at Gabriel and shakes his head.

“We’re gonna put her out of her misery,” Dean says. He looks to his brother. “Sam, finish it.”

Sam looks at Dean and Bobby, then Gabriel, asking for help. He looks at Meg. There’s a girl in there. A young woman, not unlike himself. And maybe Meg the demon lied to him about everything she told him, but that’s still a person behind Meg. A real person with dreams. With a family. Someone whose parents saw her one day and haven’t seen her since.

It hurt Gabriel so much when his father walked away.

“Finish it,” Dean says.

Gabriel walks over to him and reaches up to cup his face. “Sweetie,” he says, quietly. He gets up on his tiptoes. Sam leans down to press their foreheads together. “I’ll keep her alive. You do your thing, ‘kay?”

Sam nods. He takes a deep breath and straightens back out. “Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos, terribilis deus do sanctuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribuite virtutem et fortitudinem plebi suae, benedictus deus, gloria patri...”

Meg throws her head back and screams, inhuman and warped. Black smoke erupts from her mouth, spreading out in the protective circle in the ceiling. It dissipates slowly.

Then she leans forward, blood dripping from her mouth.

The men stay there and look. Gabriel runs up to her and unties her.

“You did so good,” he whispers, reassuringly. “You’re gonna be okay. Okay?”

“You look different,” she breathes. Her voice is weak.

Gabriel smiles at her. “Yeah. It’s no Clarence, is it?”

“Call nine-one-one,” Dean tells Bobby. “Get some water and blankets.

Sam kneels next to her. “Shh, shh. Just take it easy, alright?”

“Come on,” Dean says. “Let’s get her down.”

Gabriel snaps.

“What did you do?” Sam asks quietly.

“Knit her bones back together.” Gabriel offers Meg his hand and helps her up. Sam helps her on her other side.

“It’s been a year,” Meg says, quietly.

“Just take it easy,” Sam instructs. A year of being possessed.

“I’ve been awake for some of it. I couldn’t move my own body,” she says. “The things I did—it’s a nightmare.”

Gabriel looks at her, then looks away. “That wasn’t you,” he says. He looks at her once more and touches her cheek. “You’re not a bad person. ‘Kay? What happened to you… that just isn’t okay. And you know what? We’re gonna keep you safe.”

A tear falls down Meg’s cheek.

“Was it telling us the truth about our dad?” Dean asks.

“Dean,” Sam chastises.

“We need to know,” Dean says.

“Yes,” Meg says. “But it wants you to know that… they want you to come for him.”

“If dad’s still alive, none of that matters,” Dean says.

Bobby comes in with a blanket and a glass of water that he hands to Dean. He and Sam cover her with the blanket. For shock.

Dean hands her the glass of water.

“Where is the demon we’re looking for?” Sam asks. “Do you know?”

“Not there,” Meg says. She takes a drink of water. “Other ones. Awful ones.” She still looks pained.

“Poor girl’s exhausted,” Gabriel says.

“Where are they keeping our dad?” Dean asks.

“By the river. Sunrise.”

“‘Sunrise’,” Dean says. “What does that mean? What does that mean?”

Meg shakes her head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t awake for that one. I… I’m sorry.”

Gabriel rubs her back. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. Yeah? She’ll never touch you again. I promise.”

-

Dean’s smoking a cigarette on the front porch. He buzzes with nervous energy.

“You better hurry up and beat it,” Bobby says. “Before the paramedics get here.”

“What are you gonna tell them?” Dean shakes his wrist, moving his bracelets.

“You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I’ll figure something out.” He turns around to hand the book to Sam through the porch door. “Here, take this,” he says. “You might need it. Though I don’t know, with your know-it-all angel.”

“I’ve been here since before the world was made. I know a couple’a things.” Gabriel wraps his arm around Sam’s waist.

“Thanks,” Sam says, ignoring Gabriel’s comments.

“Thanks… for everything,” Dean says. He looks at Bobby meaningfully. “Be careful, alright?”

“You just go find your dad. Share a cigarette with him. It’s his brand.” Bobby looks at Dean for a moment. “And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won’t even try to shoot him this time.”

The Winchesters and Gabriel leave. It’s a bittersweet sort of exit.

-

The Impala’s parked by train tracks, Sam reading the book on the roof of the car, spinning a marker in his hand. Gabriel’s tucked against his side, feeding his Nintendogs on his DS.

Dean’s loading up guns from the trunk and putting them in his trusty duffel bag. He’s solemn and silent.

Sam looks at his brother. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Just getting ready.” He checks the ammunition on each gun.

“He’s going to be fine, Dean,” Sam says.

Dean doesn’t reply.

Sam flips the page. He stops at a symbol and takes the book to the open trunk lid. He wipes the dirt off the paint and draws on the lid with the marker.

“Dude, what are you drawing on my car?!” Dean asks.

“It’s called a Devil’s trap,” Sam says. “Demons can’t get through it or inside it.”

“Don’t you smoke in this car?” Gabriel asks.

“So?” Dean asks, childishly.

Sam moves to the other end of the trunk. “It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox,” he explains.

“So?” Dean repeats. He looks at the symbol.

“So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get dad.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks. “We’re bringing the Colt with us.”

“We can’t, Dean,” Sam argues.”We’ve only got three bullets left. We can’t just use them on any demon. We’ve got to use them on the demon.”

“No, we have to save dad, Sam, okay?” Dean says. “We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Gabriel appears by Sam’s side with the sound of flapping wings, gazing at Dean with his golden eyes. “Did you forget you have an archangel?”

“Dean, you know how pissed dad would be if we used all the bullets?” Sam asks. He closes the book. “Dean, he wouldn’t want us to bring the gun.”

“I don’t care, Sam. I don’t care what dad wants, okay?” Dean asks, raising his voice. “And since when do you care about what dad wants?”

“We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too. Hell, I mean, you’re the one who came and got me at school!”

Dean scoffs.

“You’re the one who dragged me—us—into this, Dean. I’m just trying to finish it!” His voice gets louder as he continues.

Gabriel frowns deeply and disappears with the sound of feathers. Sam looks at the space Gabriel used to occupy. His face twists as he realizes he’s the reason why. But then he straightens himself and glares back at Dean.

“Well, you and dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?” Dean asks, hitting Sam where it hurts. “You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. Me and Gabriel. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge. And the damn thing didn’t even kill Gabriel.”

“That’s not true, Dean,” Sam says, dangerous and low.

Dean scoffs again.

“I want dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean.” He takes in a breath and lowers his voice. “We can not bring that gun. We can’t.”

“Fine,” Dean says.

“I’m serious, Dean,” Sam says.

“I said fine, Sam,” Dean says, firmly. He takes the Colt out of his jacket pocket and holds it up exaggeratedly. The light glints off of it. Then he puts it in the trunk.

Gabriel reappears once the yelling’s over. He looks at Sam, then takes his hand. “Let’s just have a canoodle ‘fore we do some demon-killing. For funsies?”

“Gabe…,” Sam protests.

Gabriel sticks out his tongue at Dean and disappears with the sound of feathers, reappearing in the backseat of the Impala, Gabriel in Sam’s lap. Before Sam can ask what’s happening, Gabriel begins aggressively making out with him. He holds Sam’s face in place with his hands. It’s something desperate and a little terrified.

“Gabe,” Sam mutters between kisses. “What—What’s this about?”

Gabriel presses his forehead against Sam’s. “Maybe I’m just horny. Have you considered that I think my life is a porno?”

“I think the timing is a little suspicious to be a porno,” Sam says. He rubs his nose against Gabriel’s. “What’s happening?”

“In case anything happens… please don’t lose yourself.” Gabriel kisses Sam, hard, and adjusts himself on Sam’s lap. “Promise me, kiddo.”

“You can’t die.” Sam holds Gabriel’s face in place. “You can’t die. You told me that nothing can kill you.”

“I can’t die,” Gabriel says. “But if anything happens to Dean or to your daddy… you have to promise me you’re not gonna change. Okay? You gotta be you, no matter what. No matter who you lose. You can’t change.”

Sam pauses to breathe. He looks Gabriel in his eyes, long and hard. “Gabe…”

“Do you know what happened to my siblings after my daddy left?”

Sam crumples a little at the edges.

Gabriel takes in a deep breath he doesn’t need. “Everything fell apart. Some went crazy with power. Some started looking, and looking, and didn’t stop. I wasn’t there to see everything, but Angel Radio… it went crazy. And you have to promise me that you’re not gonna lose it.” Gabriel squeezes his eyes shut. “Sam, baby. Please.”

“Okay,” Sam breathes. “I promise. I won’t change.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel presses his forehead against Sam’s again.

“But you have to promise that, if anything happens to me…”

“Nothing will,” Gabriel says.

“But if it does. If something goes wrong, and I end up dead…” Sam kisses Gabriel, softly.

“I’m more of an avenging angel type, myself.” Gabriel looks into Sam’s eyes. “But for you, I’ll hold back. I won’t sully your memory.”

Sam smiles softly at him and kisses his boyfriend.

“You think we have time for one last hurrah before you go in and kill these sons of bitches?” Gabriel wraps his arms around Sam’s shoulders. “Take me in the back of the car like a cheap Prom date.”

“You know we can’t,” Sam says.

Gabriel’s eyes go blank for a moment, then he blinks back to himself. “I have to go.”

“What?” Sam asks.

“Emergency on Angel Radio. Someone needs help, and I gotta do it.” Gabriel kisses Sam again. “If you need me, pray. You know I’ll be there as soon as you think my name.”

Then he disappears with the sound of wings, and Sam’s alone in the backseat.

-

The Winchesters walk by the river. The beach is sandy and pale. It would be a great place to go for an afternoon. Take the kids, even.

Dean stops by some trees. “Hey, hey,” he says.

Sam stops and looks at him.

“Think I know what Meg meant by Sunrise,” Dean says.

Sam looks over to an apartment complex with a sign that says Sunrise Apartments. If that isn’t on the nose, then nothing is. Children jump rope in front of the steps, their parents watching carefully.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean says, walking closer. “That’s pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside.”

“And make anybody attack us,” Sam says.

“And so we can’t kill them—a building full of human shields,” Dean continues.

“They probably know exactly what we look like, too,” Sam points out. “And they could look like anybody.”

“Yeah, this sucks out loud.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam says. “Alright, so, how the hell are we going to get in?”

Dean looks over at the building, thinking. He’s pretty good at figuring out plans, even though people typecast him as the “dumb Winchester brother”. “Pull the fire alarm, get out all the civilians.”

“Okay, but then the city responds in, what, seven minutes?” Sam asks.

“Seven minutes exactly,” Dean says.

-

Sam walks into the front door of the apartment building and goes to pull the fire alarm on the wall. But just as he’s about to pull it, a man walks through the hallway. Sam moves to the stairs like he’s going to go up them. The man leaves the building through the front door.

Sam dashes to the alarm and pulls it.

-

Ever had a plan cooking? A plan that you knew would work?

Anyways, don’t tie people to beds, kids, unless they consent.

-

People leave the building quickly, and firemen enter.

Dean walks up to one of the firemen. “Hey, what’s happening?” he asks. “Is it a fire?”

“We’re figuring that out right now, sir,” the fireman says. “Just stay back.” He moves Dean away from the building.

“Well, I’ve got a Yorkie upstairs, and he pees when he’s nervous,” Dean tries with a bit of a nervous laugh.

“Sir, you have to stay back.” The fireman moves Dean out of the way with casual skill.

Sam goes to a fire truck behind them. He finds a compartment and skillfully picks the lock.

-

Sam and Dean, dressed in full fireman gear, walk down a hallway.

Dean waves his EMF around, checking the doors of each apartment. “I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.”

“You never told me that,” Sam says.

Dean’s EMF beeps high. He knocks on the door. “This is the fire department. We need you to evacuate.”

A pale woman with dark hair and high cheekbones unlocks the door, and the Winchester brothers shove it open. The woman’s thrown backwards by the force. The Winchesters spray the couple inhabiting the apartment with their tanks. It burns at their flesh.

Holy water. It’s always fun to use holy water in creative ways.

Dean punches the man of the couple and shoves him into a closet. “Come on!” he says.

Sam grabs the woman and shoves her into the closet as well. Dean leans against the door, keeping the people inside. They pound against the door.

“Hurry up!” Dean commands.

Sam takes a canister of salt from the duffel bag and pours a line of salt in front of the closet door. As soon as it’s down, the pounding against the door stops.

The boys remove their gear, all messy hair and sweat, and go to the bedroom door. They open it slowly, expecting the worst, and see John tied on the bed. Blood covers his mouth.

Dean rushes to their father. “Dad?” He leans down and presses his ear to his father’s chest. “He’s still breathing.” He shakes John. “Dad, wake up. Dad!” He takes out a knife and prepares himself to cut the restraints on his father’s wrists.

“Wait,” Sam says. “Wait.”

“What?” Dean asks.

“He could be possessed for all we know. And since Gabe’s not here to tell…”

“What, are you nuts?” Dean asks.

“Dean, we got to be sure,” Sam says. He takes out the decorative silver flask of holy water from the duffel bag and sprinkles it on John. It has no effect.

John moans and starts to wake. He looks at his sons blearily. “Sam? Why are you splashing water on me?”

“Dad, are you okay?” Dean asks. He leans down over his father.

“They’ve been drugging me,” John says. “Where’s the Colt?”

“Don’t worry, dad, it’s safe,” Sam says.

Dean cuts his father free of his bindings.

“Good boys,” he says. “Good boys.”

It’s nice to hear.

-

But this is the big leagues. And we’ve got some heavy hitters.

-

Dean and Sam carry John from the bedroom when the front door of the apartment bursts open, and a man and fireman come into the apartment.

“Go! Go!” Sam yells.

“Back! Back!” Dean yells back.

They both go back into the bedroom and close the door, locking it behind them.

An ax smashes through the door.

Sam pours a line of salt in front of the bedroom door for protection, while Dean and John have already moved out onto the fire escape. The ax still smashes through the cheap wood.

“Sam, let’s go!” Dean yells.

Sam throws him the duffel bag and goes through the window, out onto the fire escape with his father and brother. He pours salt along the windowsill.

Dean helps John, still muzzy with sleep, down onto the street. Sam moves ahead of them.

Sam’s attacked by a man. He pins down Sam in the street and begins beating him.

Dean puts down John and runs to Sam. “Sam!” He kicks the man in the face, but it doesn’t seem to do anything. He’s thrown into a parked car, shattering the windshield, and the man continues beating his brother.

There’s a gunshot, and the demon falls off Sam, dead, with a bullet hole in his head.

Dean puts the Colt away and rushes to his brother. “Sam!” He picks him up. Blood trails from Sam’s nose. “Sam, come on! Come on!” He helps Sam to his feet, and they look at the corpse of the demon.

Demon’s dead. But so’s the vessel. That was a person, once, now only a corpse.

Sam thinks of Gabriel and shudders. If they shoot Gabriel with that gun, will he be gone? Forever? Is that it?

Gabriel says that nothing can kill him, but is that true? Or is there something that they just don’t know about yet?

“Come on,” Dean says. “We gotta get out of here.”

They go over to John and pick him up, leaving in a hurry.

-

The Impala’s parked outside a ramshackle cabin in the woods. Charming. It’s one of those foggy nights.

-

Sam pours salt along the windowsill. His face is a painful mess, covered in bruises and blood, face completely swollen from the beating. He’s gotten soft since he’s been with Gabriel, who can fix his problems with a snap of his fingers and kisses.

He kinda wishes he’d agreed to banging Gabriel in the Impala before his face got all fucked up.

Dean comes into the room and inhales sharply at his brother’s face.

“How is he?” Sam asks.

“He just needed a little rest, that’s all. How are you?”

“I’ll survive. Wish Gabriel was here.” Sam turns to his brother. “Hey, you don’t think we were followed here, do you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, we couldn’t have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up.”

“Yeah.” Sam looks at Dean. “Hey, uh… Dean, you, um… you saved my life back there.”

Dean looks at him with mirth. “So, I guess you’re glad I brought the gun, huh? Since you didn’t have your boyfriend to save you.”

“Man, I’m trying to thank you here.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean says. He looks down at his hands in quiet contemplation.

Sam walks across the room. His face throbs with his heartbeat.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean asks, voice shockingly small.

“Yeah?” Sam asks.

“You know that guy I shot?” Dean asks. “There was a person in there.”

“You didn’t have a choice, Dean,” Sam says. He doesn’t say that he thought about Gabriel’s vessel, the person who used to live there. The next time he sees Gabriel, he’s going to have to ask about that guy. Ask if he was still there but in the backseat like Meg was.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says. “That’s not what bothers me.”

“Then what does?”

Dean swallows thickly. “Killing that guy, nearly killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For you or dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just, uh… it scares me sometimes.”

Sam just looks at him, lost for words. He doesn’t know what to say. He wants his boyfriend, and a long nap, and maybe some slow, loving sex.

“It shouldn’t,” John says, staggering into the room, nearly as beat up as Sam. “You did good.”

“You’re not mad?” Dean asks, a little boy afraid of upsetting his daddy.

“For what?” John asks.

“Using a bullet,” Dean says.

“Mad?” John shakes his head. “I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you—you, you watch out for this family. You always have.”

“Thanks,” Dean says, though he can’t meet John’s eyes.

Sam doesn’t want to think about the last time John said he was proud of either of them.

Dean’s thinking of the exact same thing.

The wind picks up outside the cabin, whistling, and the lights begin flickering. The Winchesters all go over to the window, as if Yellow Eyes would be outside the window staring into it like he’s in Scream.

“It found us,” John announces. “It’s here.”

“The demon?” Sam asks.

“Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door,” John says.

“I already did it,” Sam says.

“Well, check it, okay?” John commands.

“Okay.” Sam leaves the room, thinking about Gabriel.

“Dean, you got the gun?” John asks.

“Yeah,” Dean says.

“Give it to me.”

Dean takes the Colt from the back of his jeans. “Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It vanished.”

“This is me. I won’t miss. Now, the gun, hurry,” John says.

Dean hesitates, then looks down at the gun. He thinks.

John hasn’t said he’s proud of Dean in—well, he doesn’t know when. Definitely not since the last time he beat the shit out of him, for the bisexual thing. Maybe not since he was a small child. Or maybe ever.

“Son, please,” John says.

John’s not that polite. He doesn’t ask. He demands.

Dean backs up a few steps. He feels like he’s sixteen again, and he’s just been caught in bed with his pants down with some sketchy guy, and he’s about to get the everloving shit beaten out of him for daring to defy his father. His breath comes in fast and heavy.

“Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?”

“He’d be furious,” Dean says, voice quiet. He trembles.

“What?”

“That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me, he’d tear me a new one.” Dean raises the gun at his father and turns the safety off. “You’re not my dad.”

“Dean, it’s me,” John insists.

“I know my dad better than anyone. And you ain’t him.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” John asks.

“I could ask you the same thing. Stay back.”

Sam walks into the room and does a double-take at the situation. “Dean? What the hell’s going on?”

“Your brother’s lost his mind,” John says.

“He’s not dad,” Dean says.

“What?”

“I think he’s possessed,” Dean says, voice pitching up with terror, shaking, though his hand is steady. “I think he’s been possessed since we rescued him. If we’d had Gabriel, we would’ve been able to tell, but—”

“Don’t listen to him, Sammy,” John says.

“Dean, how do you know?” Sam asks, oddly calm.

“He’s… he’s different,” Dean says. He’s holding back tears, terrified, upset, violated.

“You know, we don’t have time for this,” John says. “Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you’ve gotta trust me.”

Sam looks between his father and his brother, not sure who to trust. He wishes Gabriel was here. Gabriel can see through every demon, pun intended. Dean glances at his brother, but he doesn’t say anything, like he’s too afraid that if he speaks again, he’ll cry.

“Sam?” John asks.

Sam looks between them, his breath catching.

How many times has he sat awake at night, wishing that John was proud of him? How many times has he argued with Dean over stupid shit? How many times has he cursed Yellow Eyes for taking away a normal life from him when he was only a baby? He wants this thing dead more than almost anyone. For what it did to him. To the others. For what it tried to do to Gabriel.

But.

“No,” Sam says. “No.” He moves to stand by Dean’s side.

John looks at them. “Fine,” he says, voice soft, face set, tears in his eyes. “You’re both so sure, go ahead. Kill me.” He looks down and waits for his execution.

Dean holds the gun on him, but…

This is his father. The man who raised him. Dean supposes John didn’t really “raise them” as much as was just coincidentally there for about a third of their lives, but still. It’s their father. And as shitty as John was to them—and Dean specifically, because he was the oldest, because he looked the most like Mary, because he was what was there when Sam was off doing his own stuff—, he’s still their dad.

Dean sees himself in his father’s face. He sees Sam in his father’s face, and that’s maybe the worst thing. Even though John’s looking down. He still resembles Sam. Maybe it’s the hair, or the set of his shoulders, or something else.

He can’t do it. He can’t fucking do it.

Dean’s always been too weak.

“I thought so,” John says, voice completely changed. He looks up and his eyes are bright yellow.

Sam lunges forward for his father, but he’s thrown and pinned against the wall. Dean’s pinned next to him. The Colt drops to the ground.

Yellow Eyes picks it up. “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.”

“It’s you, isn’t it? We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

“Well, you found me,” Yellow Eyes says. He smiles.

“But the holy water?” Sam asks.

“You think something like that works on something like me?”

Sam struggles against the force, but he can’t get free. “I’m gonna kill you!”

“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact…” Yellow Eyes’ face lights up, and he places the gun down on a table. “Here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy.”

Sam looks at the gun, but nothing happens.

“Well, this is fun.” Yellow Eyes walks over to the window beside Dean, looking outside at the dark night. “I could’ve killed you a hundred times today, but this…” he sighs. “This is worth the wait.”

Dean struggles against the wall.

Yellow Eyes looks over at him. “Your dad—he’s in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says ‘hi’, by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.” He smiles.

“Let him go, or I swear to God—”

“What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice.” Yellow Eyes comes closer to Dean. “You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter.”

“Who, Meg?” Dean asks.

“The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean says.

“What? You’re the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” Yellow Eyes smiles at Dean. It’s cold. Mocking. “Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“You son of a bitch,” Dean snarls.

“I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?” Sam asks.

Yellow Eyes looks at Sam. “You mean why did I kill mommy and tried your angel boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Sam says.

Yellow Eyes turns back to Dean. “You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask Gabriel to marry him.” He moves to Sam and looks him in the eyes. “Had I known that you had an angelic pitbull to fight for you, I would’ve had him taken out sooner. But he’s good at disguising himself, I’ll give him that. Surprised he didn’t end me there.” He looks at Sam with his bright yellow eyes. “I don’t like him much. Neither does John. He gets in the way.”

“In the way of what?” Sam asks.

“My plans for you, Sammy. You… and all the children like you.”

Sam’s breathing grows harsher. Children like… him?

“Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh?” Dean asks. “‘Cuz I really can’t stand the monologuing.”

Yellow Eyes turns to Dean. “Funny, but that's all part of your M.O., isn’t it?” He strides over to Dean. “Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Dean asks.

“You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam—he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.”

Tears brim in Dean’s eyes. “I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh, wait. I forgot. I wasted ‘em.” Dean smiles at him.

Yellow Eyes looks at Dean, considering. He steps away from the boys and puts his head down. When he looks up, Dean yells in pain.

“Dean! No!” Sam yells.

Dean bleeds from his chest.

Sam struggles against the force pinning him to the wall with all his human might.

“Dad! Dad, don’t you let it kill me!” Dean begs.

Yellow Eyes stares at him and smiles.

Dean screams in pain.

“Dean! No!”

Blood flows freely from Dean.

Sam struggles as hard as possible to break free. “Gabe, please. Please. Don’t let him die. If he dies, I’ll—I’ll become a monster.” He looks at the gun on the table, considering.

Blood runs from Dean’s mouth, but he’s still looking at his dad. “Dad, please,” he begs, then passes out.

“Dean!”

“Stop,” John whispers. His brown eyes have returned.

Sam’s let go off the wall.

“Stop it,” John says.

Sam dives down and grabs the gun from the table.

Yellow Eyes turns to him, eyes shockingly yellow again, and Sam points the gun at his chest. “You kill me, you kill daddy.”

“I know,” Sam says. He shoots the gun into John’s leg. Electricity bursts from him.

John falls, and so does Dean. Dean gasps for breath.

Sam gets up and goes over to his brother. “Dean? Dean, hey?” He looks at his brother, trying to parce how bad the wounds are, and his stomach churns. “Oh God, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Where’s dad?” Dean asks, voice weak.

“He’s right here. He’s right here, Dean.”

“Go check on him,” Dean says. He wraps his arms around his chest protectively.

“Dean,” Sam says.

“Go check on him.”

Sam gets up and goes to check on John, who’s motionless on the floor. “Dad? Dad?”

John looks up. “Sammy! It’s still alive. It’s inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me!” he insists. “You shoot me in the heart, son!”

Sam aims the gun at John.

“Do it now!”

“Sam, don’t you do it,” Dean says from the ground. “Don’t you do it. What about Gabriel, huh?”

“You’ve gotta hurry!” John begs. “I can’t hold onto it much longer. You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now. Sammy!”

“Sam, no,” Dean says.

A whole life in his hands.

“You do this!” John commands. “Sammy! Sam…”

The demon leaves his mouth in a black cloud of smoke and a scream, disappearing through the floor. When it’s completely gone, John looks at Sam with a weak, accusatory stare before he passes out.

-

Sam’s driving the Impala like a madman, John in the passenger’s seat, gasping in pain. Dean’s slumped in the backseat, not moving, not making any sounds.

“Look, just hold on, alright,” Sam begs them. “The hospital’s only ten minutes away.”

“I’m surprised at you, Sammy,” John wheezes. “Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first—before me, before everything.”

Sam looks at Dean in the rearview mirror. He looks like a drunk, save for the blood smeared across his face. “No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we’ve still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon—”

A semi truck slams into the passenger’s side of the Impala at full speed. Glass shatters, metal twists.

The driver’s eyes are black.

The Winchesters lie unconscious in the car, completely covered in blood. Music still plays from the mangled corpse of the Impala.

I think my time’s running out.