Title: Lost and Found

Chapter: Sixteen

~~~~~~~~~~

“Castiel!”

He heard Uzziel’s frantic hiss, but didn’t dare look away from Raphael. Madness glittered in Raphael’s eyes. Was this how he was going to end? On his knees before an insane brother?

“Any last words before I end you, boy?” Raphael raised his arm, ready to plunge the sword down.

He heard more than saw the sword sliding across the ground towards him. If he missed grabbing it…. “For hope,” he said, reaching blindly, grasping the hilt just as the sword would have slid right past him and thrusting it upward without thinking what he was doing or if it would even work. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked, himself or Raphael, by that miracle of timing. The resulting burst of light was blinding and then Raphael’s vessel dropped lifeless to the ground.

Castiel’s hands shook and all around him he heard the sounds of Raphael’s remaining army surrendering. He felt like he might even throw-up, a thing he’d discovered was rather unpleasant after he’d once downed the alcoholic contents of a liquor store.

Over. It was over. After so long….

He remained kneeling, overcome with relief while his own army slowly regained a semblance of order around him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Uzziel pushed up from the ground and surveyed the battlefield.

They’d won. They’d actually won. He was in a bit of shock from that.

He looked at Castiel, still kneeling by the crumpled form of Raphael’s last vessel. Castiel hadn’t wanted these deaths any more than Uzziel did. He even regretted Raphael’s death. It was plain in how Castiel looked at that vessel.

Or maybe he was regretting the death of the human. Whichever, there was regret present.

Now, there was heaven to genuinely put back together. It was going to be easier without Raphael and his followers. In slow strides, Uzziel stepped to Castiel, hearing sounds all around of brothers and sisters accepting their fate. Raphael’s army, the ones who’d refused to consider a different outcome than that which Raphael wanted, was soon to be no more. One by one, the angels were eliminated. It was a harsh thing to kill all of the enemy and not leave a single one standing, but it was how to win a war and especially how they had to end this one. They couldn’t have another uprising. Heaven wouldn’t survive.

He crouched down beside Castiel. “He’d gone insane, Castiel. You know that. You had to. There wasn’t any way he’d listen to reason.”

“The archangels are all gone, Uzziel. The highest class of angels basically extinct. Michael and Lucifer down in the cage, Raphael and Gabriel dead. Your class is the highest now.”

“And you.”

“Me?” He stood and Uzziel stood as well. “I’ve not gained that much in power. You’re still --”

“That’s not what I mean. Look at yourself, Castiel. You’re a puzzle to most of us. You proved that we have a free will every bit as strong as humans. You did what you thought was right when no other would join you and stood your ground. You’re intelligent, curious, friendly with humans, a leader, favored by God above other angels. How many of us has God raised once, let alone twice and gifted with additional powers? You’re in a new class, one that didn’t exist before you. Think about it. No other angel has your unique combination of powers and traits. You’re in a class all your own. You’re special.”

Castiel shuddered, then bent and pulled the sword from the body. “I dislike that word.” With a shake of his head, he turned from the dead vessel and began to work his way across the field of battle. “Dean and Sam Winchester were special and look what it got them. I told Jimmy Novak he was special and where is he? His daughter -- where is she? Special.” He spat the word out as though it had a bad taste. “It’s a word that ultimately means terrible responsibility.”

“Okay, gifted. Extraordinary. Singular. Unique. Exceptional.”

“Must you list the synonyms?”

“Surely one them is acceptable to describe yourself?”

He glanced at Uzziel and looked away, making his refusal to continue the conversation obvious. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to discuss the difference between Castiel and other angels. Uzziel made a mental note to pick up that conversation at a later date as Castiel said, “Do you realize this is the first moment we’ve not been at war in a very long time?”

“Yes. It’s a new day for us. No Paradise, but I can live with that if we’re at peace with each other. Some day, our Father will return. I believe it’ll be sooner rather than later. After all, he’s been active in your recent existence when we’d thought he was long gone and uncaring. That’s another thing you proved, Castiel. Our Father still does care about us and about those humans down there.” He slid his hands into his jacket and sighed. “I see big changes on the wind up here. Let’s finish up and then sit down together. I’ve a few ideas I think you might approve of.”

They surveyed the field from where they were, looked to where they were needed most in these last moments, and moved forward together to tie up the last ends of the battle.

~~~~~~~~~~

The second slab moved from the grave inch by slow inch. Gwen, Sam, and Ellen were all muddy, bloody, bruised, and cursing by then, each keeping an eye on the time and the sky. As they’d worked, clouds had gathered above them, dark clouds obliterating the bright sunshine and making the temperature drop. The slab shifted the last tiny bit and from the woods around them came a low mournful howl.

It could have been the wind. It wasn’t, but it could have been -- if Sam was deluding himself. “Um…Ellen?” Sam straightened. That sound couldn’t be good.

She reached for a shovel. “Dig, Sam. I doubt we’ve much time.” She moved to help Gwen, who was working on the first grave. “Damn, I’m going to hurt for the next two weeks, if not longer.”

Sam worked as fast as he could, casting a glance at his watch. “What time did you say the ghosts kill?”

“Just after sunset,” Gwen replied with a grunt.

He pushed himself harder. Ellen was right. They didn’t have much time.

Dirt flew as they dug, finally reaching the bones as twilight became night.

Two very pissed off ghosts came upon them in a rush of wind and a howl that was less mournful and far more irate than earlier.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was asleep and Jo couldn’t drift off. Her tears were gone, with not even a headache remaining. She rolled onto her back and sighed. It had been a delightfully blissful couple hours with him, moments that made her feel as though everything really would work out in the end. Dean made her feel loved and cherished. He managed that with simply a glance or quick kiss.

Now however, she was worrying about her mother and what they’d find when they reached Massachusetts. If only she’d been able to drift to sleep like he had.

Jo got up from the bed, taking the top sheet with her, and dug her phone out of her coat pocket. Maybe she’d make a quick call to Sam…. She dialed and waited, wrapping the sheet about her and frowning when the call went to voicemail.

“Sam, it’s Jo. Dean and I have stopped for the night and I need to talk to you about my mom. Call me.”

Hanging up, she set the phone on the table and reached for her bag, pulling out a mystery novel she’d been trying to slog through. It had a catchy title and interesting blurb on the back, but she absolutely hated the main character and kept hoping someone would murder the obnoxious nosy twit. She sat down and opened the book, yet found herself picking up the phone again after only five minutes.

“Sam, hi, it’s Jo again. It’s really important that you call me, okay? Thanks.”

Dean shifted position on the bed, but didn’t wake.

She returned the book to her bag and decided one of Dean’s shirts would be a better choice of cover-up than the sheet. Jo opened his bag and was immediately confronted with the cover of ‘Busty Asian Babes’. The magazine was right on top. With a quick glance to make sure Dean wasn’t actually awake and watching, she flipped through the magazine, pausing on one picture halfway through. “Those are so totally fake,” she murmured. “I’ll bet they don’t even move when she jumps up and down.” Jo closed the magazine, carefully returned it, and grabbed the top shirt, a button-down that had seen better days. She slipped it on, and buttoned three of the buttons. It was soft and very comfortable from repeated washings.

Surely more than a couple minutes had passed? Why hadn’t Sam called back yet?

Snatching the phone back up, Jo dialed again, leaving a third message and, as time passed, several more messages. She occupied herself flipping through channels, pacing, compulsively checking her phone for missed calls despite holding it in her hand and checking her email in case Sam had emailed instead of calling. Her impatience grew. Where the hell was he and what was he doing?

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ellen!” Sam hurdled over a fallen log in an attempt to be beneath her as she fell from the tree branch she’d been suspended up against and didn’t make it. She hit the ground hard, lifted her head a fraction, lowered it, and went still. Oh crap, Sam thought. We got Ellen killed! He knelt, reaching for her only to be thrown back from her. He slammed into a tree, screaming in pain as his shirt shredded and scratches appeared on his chest, stomach, and side.

A man appeared, his grin sadistic and pleased.

A woman’s form materialized over Ellen, straddling her and grasping a handful of her hair.

“Come on, you bitches!” Gwen yelled, “It’s me you want to worry about!” She held up a lighter, flicked it, and cursed a blue streak when it didn’t light. Gwen shook it, made a triumphant noise when it lit. She set the pile of bones in the hole beside her on fire, moving to the other grave and pulling another lighter from her pocket.

The woman standing over Ellen was gone with a scream, but the man…. He left Sam, turning his attention to Gwen. He grasped her by the throat, squeezing. Gwen gasped for breath, the lighter falling to the ground as she attempted to pry the spirit’s hands from her. Sam ignored his own pain and pushed from the tree towards her, diving for the ground and the lighter. Gwen thrashed in increasingly weak movements, body beginning to sag towards the ground.

Sam found the lighter. With a quick flick, he’d lit the bones on fire and Gwen was dropping to the ground, choking and gasping, chest heaving as she pulled in air. She flung a hand out and found his hand, squeezing it.

“Thank you,” she said, though it came out more like ‘an oo’.

“You okay?” He waited for her nod before making his painful way to Ellen. She was stirring, moaning, but thankfully very much alive.

They were going to have a long trek back to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back to the motel was punctuated by Ellen’s groans through gritted teeth and Sam’s occasional hiss of pain. It would have been easier on all of them if those graves hadn’t been way out in the middle of nowhere. Gwen had alternated between helping Ellen hobble along the path they’d cut on the way out there and steadying Sam, ignoring her own aches and pains.

She parked as close as she could to their door and hurried to open it while Sam and Ellen helped each other into Ellen’s room.

Ellen dropped onto the bed face first. “I’m too old to dig up graves,” she moaned.

“You want us to go in my room so you can shower,” Gwen inquired, stripping off her coat and dropping it to the floor just inside the connecting door to her room. She was going to have to head to the Laundromat and do a load of laundry. Her coat was a mess, her jeans, her shoes…everything.

“I’ll just take everything in with me.” Ellen swept an arm out and yelped. “Crud, my shoulder hurts!”

Gwen motioned at the table and chairs. “Sit down, Sam, I’ll stitch you up.” She reached for the first aid kit and took it to him, opening it up. “Don’t be shy, cous. Strip off the shirt so I can get a good look at that cut.”

“I’d better shower now,” Ellen said without moving. “If I don’t, I really won’t be able to move tomorrow.” She sighed.

From experience, she knew Ellen was psyching herself up for the process of moving from the bed and into the bathroom, a process that sometimes took upwards of ten minutes depending on the level of activity they’d engaged in on their jobs.

Sam winced, removing first his coat, then his button-down shirt. Not that it took much to remove the shirt. It was in tatters. “I can do this myself, Gwen.”

“No reason why you should.” She peered at the long, jagged cut and scratches around it. “You need a couple stitches. I’ll get you the whiskey.”

He took the bottle and drank a couple long swallows while she washed her hands and got ready to stitch him up. In another life, Gwen thought she would have made a kick-ass doctor. She always got a sort of detached calm when she sewed someone up or set a bone.

With a long groan, Ellen got up and staggered to her bag, digging through it. Since it had taken only a couple minutes for her to get up from the bed, Gwen concluded she wasn’t as hurt as she was making it seem. Her shoulder would need attention later, however. It always did. “I may be awhile….” Ellen went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Gwen knelt in front of Sam, gently cleaning the wound. “This shouldn’t take too long. Feel free to have a few more swigs.”

“I’m good.” The bottle was set beside him on the table. “You don’t have to, Gwen. I can do it myself.”

Gwen threaded a needle. “Will you shut up about it already? I’m not questioning your self-doctoring skills. I know you can do it, but you got hurt on a job I invited you on. It’s the least I can do, so sit back, and be a good patient.”

He looked over at the bathroom door. “Is Ellen really okay or is she faking it? She took quite a fall from that tree branch.” A hiss left him as she began to stitch the wound together, but other than that first convulsive movement of his belly with breath, he was still. The discipline that took amazed her. She’d seen him do it before, but it still got her every time.

“She’ll take a few painkiller, stand in the shower until the water runs cold, sleep until ten tomorrow morning, and be surprisingly spry by tomorrow afternoon. I hope I’m in as good of shape as she is when I’m her age.” She took a final stitch. “Almost done….. There.” Gwen added a waterproof bandage over it. “I’d add a ton of waterproof tape before showering if I were you.”

“Always do,” he replied, picking up his shirt and giving it a disappointed once-over. “I really liked this shirt, too.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“The best Goodwill has to offer?”

“Something like that. If you want a real new shirt, I could do that, too. I’m not destitute, Sam. I do have some money.” Once the first aid kit was put away, she took the chair opposite him at the table. “You get a room yet?”

“Yeah.” He drew on the shirt, then slowly reached for his coat. “I’m down two doors on the right.” Meaning he was on the other side of her own room. “Think I’ll go shower, then head out and pick up some food. Any preferences tonight?”

“You know I’ll eat just about anything and Ellen’s not picky. As long as it’s hot and filling, I think we’ll be fine with whatever you choose.”

“Great. Well, I’ll get out of your hair and be back in a bit.”

“Take your time.” When Sam had gone, Gwen went into her own room through the connecting door, letting herself limp a little, acknowledging the slight pain in her ankle. A small sprain, she decided, sitting on her bed and easing her boot off. There was some puffiness, but that might have been from the tightness of her boot at the ankle. She’d take it easy for a couple days and likely be fine.

She stripped and got into the shower, standing under the spray like she’d said Ellen was going to do, letting the hot water ease the soreness already starting. Gwen leaned against the stall wall and closed her eyes. If she was honest with herself, she was glad Sam was with them for a few days. It reminded her of better days, when there’d been a full team going out. The banter, the camaraderie, the efficiency in the hunt. Sometimes she missed the family, but mostly, she was glad she was on her own.

Well, sort of on her own.

Groaning, she got dressed, pulling on sweats instead of jeans, as her last pair was muddy, bloody, and torn after earlier. She popped a couple painkiller, then started filling a laundry bag to take to the Laundromat down the street after dinner. Maybe she could convince Sam to go with her and give Ellen some time by herself.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen made a good doctor. She knew a lot more than basic first aid and he knew her interest in medicine had been encouraged along with her interest in the aspects of hunting. The family had wanted well-rounded hunters and that was what she’d become. Sam was glad for her experience because it meant he didn’t have to stitch himself up. That wasn’t high on his list of things he enjoyed doing.

The family. He snorted. Even after these months, he still thought of them in capital letters. Capital ‘T’, capital ‘F’. Gwen thought of them that way, too. It was one of the things they’d initially semi-bonded over after she’d left.

On the way to his room, he thought about what to bring back for dinner after he’d showered and changed. By the time he reached it, he’d settled on one of the chain restaurants that served home-style food. Stepping inside, he kicked the door shut with his foot, drew out his phone and looked at it. He had seven messages waiting, all from one number. Jo’s.

He played the first one.

“Sam, it’s Jo. Dean and I have stopped for the night and I need to talk to you about my mom. Call me.”

The second and third were more of the same, the fourth and so on a bit more forceful, and he was getting ready to listen to the last one when Jo called an eighth time.

“Jo, hi.”

“Why haven’t you answered any of my messages? Where the hell have you been? I called like six times.”

Sam looked longingly at the bathroom, not correcting her. “We just got in from a job where there wasn’t any cell service. Look, I need a shower. Give me ten minutes and I’ll call you back.”

“Just tell me she’s okay.” Her voice was hushed.

“Why can’t I call you back?” He frowned.

“I need to know how she is. I’m dying for information here. How was she on the job? I mean, is she okay?”

“Fine. She’s fine. We had to do some digging and things got…hairy.”

“Hairy? How so? Like really bad, hairy? Is she hurt? Tell me straight, Sam.” Jo’s voice was almost panicked and Sam mentally kicked himself for even hinting anything had gone wrong.

He went to his bag and drew out clean clothes. “She’s fine, Jo. Did better than some people half her age -- like usual. She might be sore tomorrow though. We all will be. Had something of a fight on our hands. I thought we might lose Gwen at one point, but we’re all alive and well.”

“Oh. Okay. Good.” She blew out a relieved breath. “Here’s what you do. Are you listening?”

“Sure.” He worked his coat and shirt off and let them drop to the floor. The bandage was still stuck well.

“Make her take a long shower, the longer the better, then dose her up with the best painkillers on hand. I mean it, Sam. Give her the highest dose you can of the best stuff you’ve got. Then, give her a hot meal, settle her down, and give her shoulders a good rub. She gets a lot of tension right above her left shoulder blade when she goes digging and if a hot shower doesn’t loosen it up, she’ll wake up tomorrow in a mood you don’t ever want to see. Trust me. You’ll be able to feel the knot. And let her sleep until she wakes up, probably somewhere close to noon. I usually go do laundry while she’s passed out or catch up on email.”

“Jo, we’ve got everything under control. Relax. Have a late dinner with Dean or whatever you’re doing. You’ll be here tomorrow, right?”

“Probably late afternoon. Three maybe?”

“You covered a lot of ground today.”

“Dean didn’t exactly stick to the speed limit.”

That sounded like Dean. He tended to think that they were suggestions. “Where is Dean while you keep calling me?”

“Taking a nap.” There was a hint of satisfaction in her voice and Sam could pretty much figure out why Dean needed a nap. “He’s worn out. He’s…very worn out.”

“I’ll bet,” he replied with an arch of one brow.

“I had to keep my promise…. We’re having a late dinner when he wakes up, which’ll be about five minutes after I get off the phone with you.”

“Planning on being showered and dressed before he wakes up, huh? Has the spark died so quickly,” he teased.

She was quiet for a few seconds. “No, but I’m hungry and I know very well if I don’t take that drastic action, I’ll have to settle for whatever fast food place is open late and I’m a little sick of hamburgers and fries already.”

“Good luck on getting a proper meal and speaking of that…. I really do need to shower and go. I’m supposed to pick up dinner for us.”

“I can take a hint. And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you for finding her and being there with her.”

“You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.”

The shower was welcome and he luckily didn’t have any leakage into his bandage. Sam dressed and bought dinner. Returning, he found Ellen in her pajamas in bed, looking every bit her age, and Gwen sitting Indian fashion on the end of Ellen’s bed, flipping channels on the tv. He set out the food on the table, eyed Ellen a moment, and brought hers to her.

“Here. Dinner in bed.”

“Sweet of you, Sam, but if I don’t move around I’ll stiffen up.” She got out of bed, moving in slow steps to the table. “Thanks for dinner. Usually Gwen gets it.”

“You were nice enough to invite me along on your hunt. Buying dinner is nothing.” He brought her container back to the table, then sat and opened his own takeout container. “I wanted to.”

“Well, thank you. This looks great.” Taking the lid off the container, Ellen opened a packet of pepper and sprinkled it over the chicken, dressing, and potatoes. “And it’s exactly what I would have ordered myself.”

He’d eaten with Ellen a few times in the past, enough to have a good idea what she’d eat. “I’m glad I guessed right, then.”

Gwen stood, stretched, and came to the table. “I’m doing laundry after dinner, so if either of you have anything that needs washed…. You could come with me, Sam. We haven’t had a good long talk in ages.”

“If Ellen doesn’t mind.”

Ellen waved her fork at him. “Don’t mind at all. I’m going to go to bed and sleep for about a million years, or until whoever it was you called gets here tomorrow.”

“That’ll be a long night. I doubt they’ll be here before about three.”

She arched a brow. “Then I’ll be well-rested.”

“How’s your shoulder,” Gwen asked in a leading tone. Sam guessed she probably had Jo’s method for dealing with Ellen’s tense shoulder.

“Hurts like usual.”

“We’ll take care of it before we go.” She took a big bite of her pasta, chewed, and swallowed. “Sam’s got the best hands. Perfect grip. You won’t believe how good he is at digging the tension out. You’ll melt.” Gwen nudged him with her foot. “Show her.”

“I’m eating,” he protested, though he’d planned on seeing if Ellen needed a backrub later per Jo’s instructions.

“After you’re done.”

After a hunt once, Gwen had mentioned a stiff neck and aching shoulder. It had been one of those little complaining things most of them did, nothing serious. He’d stepped forward and volunteered massage services while Christian was busy making teasing comments that, now that Sam thought about them, had been more than a little mean. Being possessed hadn’t made Christian mean apparently. Gwen hadn’t thought a thing of his remarks, ignoring them, so Sam extrapolated that, unless Christian had been possessed all of the years Gwen had known him, he’d always been a jerk. She’d stood still and when he’d finished, she’d looked at him with a little grin. “Quite the hidden talent, Sam. Thank you.”

Sam ate a little slower, remembering that evening. He’d only volunteered because he’d seen others do that. It was a kind gesture that helped him fit in with the rest of them. Gwen had softened up after that and with her, the rest had as well. He’d been very calculating then. If he’d had his soul at that point, he might have volunteered anyway out of genuine kindness, like he was doing for Ellen.

Jo had been right about feeling the knot, he discovered a little while later. Ellen had a sizeable knot just above her shoulder blade. However, it didn’t take him long to make it dissipate, Ellen sighing.

“Gwen was right. Toss a blanket over me, Sam. I think I’ll just fall asleep right here.” Her voice was muffled from her pillow.

He smiled a little. “Gwen’s a sucker for a shoulder rub herself.”

Gwen reached for her coat and slipped it on. “I’m not crazy. When a guy gives a good shoulder rub, I’m there. Totally.” She clapped her hands together a couple times and gestured at the door. “Okay, laundry time. Come on, Sam. Let’s let Ellen relax without us.”

In the Laundromat, he stretched out in one chair and watched Gwen do the laundry. “You know about her shoulder I take it?”

“She was pretty frank about all those sorts of things when we started working together. Wanted me to know what I was getting myself into.” She finished putting clothes in one washer and sat beside him. Gwen did laundry the way Dean did -- every single item shoved in together, though it didn’t look like she used hot water. Dean did. Even ending up with pink underwear once hadn’t stopped him from doing that. “Tell me more about Jo.”

“You’ll meet her tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’d like to know what to expect.”

“The unexpected is usually a pretty good bet. I don’t know.” Crossing his arms and hissing when it put pressure on his stitches, he sat up straight and rested his arms on the chair arms instead. “I think you’ll like Jo and she’ll like you. She’s independent, opinionated….” Sam shrugged. “She’s like Ellen. She’s her mother’s daughter through and through. I think that’s why they fought the way they did for awhile. Too much alike. But they reached a point eventually where they didn’t fight. Or if they did it wasn’t around any of us.”

“Mmm. I never fought with my mom. I wasn’t much like her or dad. When I was a kid, I got teased that I was a changeling because I wasn’t like either of them. Coming from one of our family, you know how mean that insult was.”

Sam had formed a rather unfavorable opinion of many of the Campbell clan in recent months. His mother appeared to have been the only decent one. Maybe his grandmother. Almost everyone else? Needed personality transplants. “You worked well with them.”

“I learned to just let it all go and give back as good as I got.” She crossed her arms. “Can I tell you something, Sam?”

“Sure.”

“I sort of miss having a home base. I miss sitting down as a group and discussing past cases and current ones. I miss….”

“A past you can’t go back to,” he finished quietly for her. It was a thing he and Dean both understood fully.

Gwen nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t the best, but I still have some good memories of it, you know? Christian wasn’t always a jerk. Usually, but not always. He was really sweet with Arlene. I never saw him as gentle as when he was with her. And Mark. He was a good guy.”

He crossed his ankles. “Gwen, you can have something similar with us. I mean, once Jo and Ellen are back together, we can all head to Bobby Singer’s house and spend a couple days there.”

“He’s your friend, Sam. I don’t know him.”

“Then you’ll get to know him. He’s a handy guy to have on your side and he’s been like another dad to us. He might seem like a curmudgeon, but he’s got a good heart. Think about it. Me and Dean, you, Ellen, and Jo, Bobby, and sometimes Castiel. Not a big group, yet between us all, we’ve a lot of stories. We could have good times.”

She slid down in her chair and lightly kicked his foot with hers. “Are you trying to convince me to be part of your gang?”

A laugh left him. “Maybe. Nothing wrong with pooling resources is there? We could take on bigger hunts, harder jobs, more complicated jobs that require a bit more research and planning.”

“You’ve thought about this.” Gwen sat back up and turned in the chair, crossing her legs. “What’s going on here, Sam? You and Dean have barely been back out on the road together --”

“Not true. We’ve been out there for months now together, getting back in the groove. I just….” How could he explain what he was thinking and feeling when he’d barely thought it out himself? “I’m not twenty anymore and neither is Dean. It’s time to rethink our strategy. Regroup. Hit the bad things from a different angle. I think that angle includes other hunters and maybe a home base like you said.”

“And Dean’s got a girlfriend now. Changes things.”

“Yes and no. Jo fits in our lives, Gwen. I want Dean to have her there. I have no problem with her there.” He wanted Dean to have the time he needed to build something real with Jo. If that meant they changed their strategy for going out on hunts, then so be it. If it meant they went on fewer hunts, then so be it. And if it meant they became better organized, he didn’t have a problem with that either. Sam didn’t think that he himself would ever have a steady girlfriend or even a wife, but Dean had that chance with Jo. He wanted Dean to have that and to learn that he was more than a hunter.

“He can have her. He can have a wife and kids. You could too. I grew up seeing it around me.”

“How many of those turned out happy? Is Arlene happy Christian is dead?”

“A few turned out happy and while Arlene isn’t happy he’s dead, I could name several who are. But you can’t ignore what you want from life and expect to be happy. Dean should go for it. So should you. There are plenty of dangerous professions out there that are just as dangerous as ours. Policemen, firemen, soldiers --”

He shifted position. “Dean doesn’t want to have kids raised in the life.”

“He could change his mind.”

“You don’t know Dean on that issue.”

“What about you? If you had kids would you raise them to know about all of this?” She got up, transferring items into the dryer before returning beside him.

“I’m not about to have kids. Lucifer’s vessel line ends here, no ifs ands or buts about it. I won’t risk it.”

She looked shocked by that. “You’re going to disregard having biological kids completely? Sam, seriously?”

“Yes. I guess adoption would be an option, but it couldn’t be an official adoption. Nothing legal. No one in their right mind would give a baby legally to a hunter and I’d never expect them to. If I had to raise a child as my own, one not biologically mine would be best, and as for teaching him or her about all of this…it’d depend on the circumstances. If I was retired, then no. If I wasn’t, maybe. Circumstances. There are benefits to it, sure. But there are also drawbacks. Big ones. Dean and dad tried to keep me in the dark and look what it did to me.”

“You seem pretty adjusted to me.”

Sam laughed. If only Gwen knew all of it. “I’m a mess inside. Trust me, Gwen.”

She touched his hand with hers. “You’re human. We’re all a bit of a mess inside.”

True. Very true.

The conversation stuck with him the rest of the night, lingering into the morning hours.