Title: Lost and Found

Chapter: 34

~~~~~~~~~~~

“How long did it take you to discover Uzziel’s weakness?”

Balthazar sat up. “Awhile. He was a tough nut to crack. Why?”

Castiel tapped the papers he’d curled into a tube against his leg. He hoped he didn’t regret taking Abby’s suggestion to involve Balthazar in this. “Four out of every ten who signed up for the AMP are having the same trouble Uzziel did.”

He whistled low. “Almost an epidemic. You’ve got your hands full.”

“Would you be willing to find their weaknesses so we can deal with them?”

“Some will be unable to cope.”

“Are you able to tell who?”

He peered closely at Castiel with narrowed eyes and Cas stared right back. “Are you proposing to release me if I cooperate, Cassy?”

“Think of it more as a work release program. Good behavior will give you privileges. Cooperation gains you good will. You’ll be initially accompanied by several guards, but that number is subject to change depending on how you behave. Eventually, you could be released, able to move about again without guards, though I have to tell you, it’ll be a long time coming due to your behavior in recent days.”

“The trust must be rebuilt. I understand. So…how are they looking at you now? The others. Are they more respectful? Are they taking you seriously?”

His nod was slow. Balthazar had been right on all of that. Sentencing him for his shenanigans and troublemaking had quashed potential trouble from others immediately, not to mention he’d been correct about Uzziel. “Will you do this or not?”

“Is it important that their weaknesses are revealed?”

“You know it is.”

He slowly stood from his chair. “Yes, I can tell who has the strength to conquer their weakness. For example…. Abigael.” His brows rose. “She was infatuated with you. Had a little crush that made her long to be near you wherever you were. Earth, heaven. She’s one tough cookie underneath that shy librarian exterior. I watched her turn her infatuation into a strength, tempering her urges, and learning to turn her feelings into something you would accept while being with you every hour. She still wants to be near you, by the way, but she has balance now…and she’s a credit to your teaching. Your cluelessness over her infatuation likely aided her recovery from weakness.”

He ignored the part on Abigael. He’d known she was loyal and that she’d had a crush on him. Dean had pointed it out long ago. Castiel uncurled the papers and held them out. “The names.”

Balthazar took the pages, studied them, one finger sliding down each page. When he’d glanced through all of them, he turned back to the first page, indicating seven names. “Start with these seven. Remove them from the AMP immediately. They have little control and if they’re assigned below, it wouldn’t be pleasant. I know those seven. They’re weak scholars who should remain in their original departments. They’ve not the ability to overcome and adapt as you and Abigael.”

“You’re certain without seeing them?”

“I know them. You came to me, Castiel. Will you trust my judgment or not? If not, then you’ve wasted my time and yours both.”

Taking the top page and leaving the rest for Balthazar to study, Castiel left to do some digging on the seven. He’d discover in what capacity Balthazar knew them and learn about the seven himself. If he could figure out how Balthazar was seeing the weaknesses, perhaps they wouldn’t need him at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was waiting at the gate when Gwen arrived. He closed the gate behind her and locked it, then walked towards the car.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes a moment. She’d been driving for hours with only a couple bathroom breaks and drive through places for food. Exhaustion was beginning to claim her. She wanted to sleep for a good solid twelve hours. As Sam had instructed, she’d called him every hour on the hour. Gwen unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car. Sam immediately enfolded her in an embrace, pressing her head to his chest.

Gwen leaned against him for a moment, but when she tried to pull away, Sam resisted, holding on to her tighter. “Sam? I can’t breathe. Let up a little.”

“Sure. Right. Sorry.” He put an arm around her. “Let’s go in.” They walked into the building.

She frowned, noticing the busted doorframe and the faint smells of blood and decay. “What’s going on,” she asked upon reaching the main room.

Dean was at a table, putting papers and folders in a box. Several other boxes were around him, taped and labeled. He looked at her. “”I’m sorry to hear about the fire.”

“Arlene knew something or someone was coming after her. Told me to leave. Said she didn’t want my blood on her hands. Are you two going to tell me what’s going on? Why is there blood on the floor? And the smell? Where is everyone?” There should at least be a guard outside and someone inside to take any calls that came in.

His sigh was heavy and he finished with the box, closing, taping, and labeling it. “We walked in to a massacre. Twelve people. Three kids, one teenager, and eight adults. Samuel was one of them. Bodies are out back. We waited for you. Thought you might have a goodbye or two to make.”

“I said my goodbyes when I left and none of them cared.”

“What about Cheryl?”

Gwen shook her head. “Sam knew her and her parents as well as I did.”

“I never met her parents,” Sam said, his arm tightening around her. She was grateful for that strength against her. “Just her.”

“I’ll help you burn them if you want --”

Dean crossed his arms and leaned against the table. “I’ll take care of it. You and Sam go turn in your car and pick up a truck. I’d like to scrounge anything we can, take it back with us. No one else is going to do it. We might as well take what’s here. After all, we’re family, right?” He crossed one ankle over the other, shifting his weight. “There’s a lot to scrounge. Recent files, supplies of all kinds. Sam and I did a quick inventory while we waited for you.” His stare slid down her and back up slowly. She had the feeling he was seeing just how exhausted she was. “Then you can sleep while Sam and I work. Eat a hot meal, take a shower. You can use all three.”

“I can work.” She smothered a yawn with one hand. “Just pour some coffee down me and tell me what you want me to do.”

“No. You saw Arlene’s mother’s house in flames with them presumably still in it.”

“Presumably?”

“We’ll monitor the papers and news, see what the investigation there turns up. Ellen’s on it already. She thought she might fly out there. Sam called her and Jo as soon as he talked to you. You don’t know for sure Arlene was in there.”

“Dean, witnesses heard screaming. She wouldn’t have left her mother.”

He nodded in acknowledgment of that fact. “Unless her mother wasn’t alive. If her mother was dead and she had a chance to escape she would have. Arlene was smart. Maybe the screaming wasn’t her.”

“Maybe it was.”

He came forward. “You’re exhausted. You drove straight through here and, admit it or not, this here?” He gestured around them. “Is going to affect you when you start thinking about it. You knew these people like Sam and I didn’t. Worked with them, relaxed with them. They were family to you for your life until recent. You need some downtime to process this and grieve a little.”

“You can work, I can work.” But she wasn’t so sure about that. She’d probably drop the first box she tried to carry.

“I slept already and Sam napped between your calls. You need rest.”

“Dean’s right.” Sam’s arm moved, his hand sliding along her back, curving on her shoulder and gently squeezing. “We’ll change the car for a truck, grab some food, and you can shower and sleep awhile. You need to recharge, Gwen. There’s a lot to do and you need to be at the top of your game.”

“And right now I’m not.” She crossed her arms. “Fine. You have a point. Both of you. I’ll rest.”

One side of Dean’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Even Supergirl takes a break every now and then.”

By the time the tasks were done, she was nearly asleep on her feet. Sam guided her to a cot in one room and gave her shoulders a thorough rub that left her sliding into sleep before he’d even stood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as he could after Gwen arrived, Dean headed into the nearest town and got a new phone and number. When he called Jo to tell her, she asked what prompted the switch.

“It was time. Tell everyone for me, okay?”

“Sure. How’d it go at the compound?”

He groaned. “That’s a story all in itself. We’re going to be gone a bit longer than I’d planned. Make some room. We’re bringing back a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Like everything. Whatever we can carry with us.”

They talked for awhile longer and when Dean hung up, he felt centered and ready to work. For days, they packed up the compound, trusting Gwen’s judgment on what would be the best items to take, slowly filling the truck. By the end of the week, they were ready save a few boxes that would need last minute additions in the morning.

Dean stretched out in one chair. Gwen had gone to bed nearly an hour earlier. He motioned in the direction of the room with the cot, keeping his voice low. “She okay?”

Sam set his cup down. “I think so. The two she’d wanted to kill were here, so right now that seems to be outweighing any grief over the others.”

Sort of like with them and Samuel’s death. He thought it was sad in a way to be glad their grandfather had died a violent painful death. “How close was she to Arlene?”

“She’d known her for a long time. I guess Christian met her on a job, brought her back, and she was part of the family since then. Gwen says he fell hard for her on sight.”

Dean snorted. “I find it hard to believe that dick loved anyone.” His new phone rang. It was Ellen. Dean listened and when he hung up, he looked over at Sam, noting that Sam seemed tired, smothering a yawn. Both of them should take a cue from Gwen and take some rack time. “That was Ellen. She says don’t count Arlene as dead just yet. Only two bodies recovered from the scene, both female, and both elderly. No way anyone would mistake Arlene for elderly, even from bones. Sounds like maybe she got the drop on whoever came after them and either started the fire to cover up something hinkey or the house was already on fire when she escaped it.”

“Going by what Arlene told Gwen, the second woman was likely a witch. So…Arlene is out there somewhere.” Sam nodded. “Good news.”

“It is. Listen, why don’t you go rest awhile? All that’s left is the last few boxes and we’ll pack those right before we leave in the morning.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He waited until quiet descended on the main room, then called for Castiel. He had a question he hoped Cas would answer to ease their minds. Or his mind rather.

“Dean.” He looked more disheveled than usual, his shirt wrinkled, tie askew, and coat smudged with dirt. His hair stuck up in different directions.

“Cas. Looking kind of rough today. You get into a tussle?”

He made a noise of impatience. “What do you want?”

With a glance towards the hallway, he asked, “Can you confirm that Arlene Campbell is alive?”

“I’m in the middle of testing the other angels.”

“Testing the other angels? What, is it finals week up there at Heaven U?”

“It’d take awhile to explain. Do you wish me to discover her location?”

“No, just confirm she’s alive and that she was what we thought her to be and nothing nasty that’ll bite us in the ass later.” He didn’t think Arlene was anything except a woman who’d married into the Campbell family, but with witches running around doing extensive damage, it’d be best to receive a heavenly confirmation on that. It’d be terrible to discover Arlene had been a part of it all along and had been leading them towards information as part of a trap.

Castiel sighed. “Wait here.” He disappeared from view.

“Where the hell else am I going to go in the seconds he’s gone,” he asked thin air.

He reappeared. “She’s alive and as far as I’m aware, Arlene Campbell is who you thought her to be. The wife of a dead hunter, good at finding people and information, and nothing sinister that should be watched out for.”

“I had to ask. We’ve got serious witch trouble here.”

“Yes. This building reeks of spells and demons.” One brow twitched.

“Did we miss any hex bags?”

“I suspect you would have known it by now if you had.” He winked from view again and was back just as quickly. “No hex bags missed. I really am in the middle of something, Dean.”

“Right. Have fun with exams.” It was good to know that Arlene had escaped. Maybe some day they’d run into her again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen watched Sam close the back of the truck. They’d pretty much looted what they could, though Dean was right. Who was left to stop them?

She was puzzled still by that endearment Sam had uttered the other day. He hadn’t repeated it or said anything more about it. It wasn’t like him to call her pet names of any kind. That was more Dean and Jo’s thing. “Why did you call me ‘honey’ the other day on the phone?”

He paused, hands stilling in his task. “I knew it’d get you moving because you wouldn’t be expecting it. It focused you on me and not on what you were seeing.”

“You didn’t mean it.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He was carefully not looking at her, double checking that the back was locked up. “With what we’d just seen and dealt with here, and then your news about the fire….” He turned to face her. “I care about you, Gwen, and I don’t have the best of luck with women staying alive once I care about them. I was….” He swallowed hard. “I was terrified every hour until you called and until you were right here with us. To be honest, I’m still terrified. There’s something going on and….” He tilted his head back, gaze moving across the sky. “I’m fighting the same sort of behavior Dean’s been struggling with with Jo. I want to lock you up at base and keep you safe there.” His attention turned to the ground then, fists balling and shoving into his jeans pockets. “You’d hate that, I know. I always lose the woman I care about. I don’t want to lose you.”

Stepping close, she slid her arms around his waist. “I appreciate you not cave-manning me. I care about you too, Sam.”

Her feelings had grown deeper than that. Gwen was falling hard for Sam Winchester and she suspected everyone around them knew it. She could handle his past and all she’d learned about it. The only thing she wasn’t sure about was his reaction to whatever they eventually learned about her past. Gwen had been considering the possibilities more and more and was very afraid of what could turn up about her parents. Maybe it would be best to follow Castiel’s advice and not even look for it. After all, he had said she wouldn’t like what they found. He’d had a reason for saying that and the only thing she could think of to explain it made her afraid the truth would pull Sam from her.

~~~~~~~~~~

With the truck hurriedly unpacked and boxes and other items littering the house and garage, Dean thought they should turn their attention to the fire at Arlene’s mom’s house and the witch attack at the compound. It needed to be worked like a case and Jo and Sam agreed. Gwen was the only hold out, not giving an opinion one way or another, a sure sign that something was bothering her. She was no more inclined to keep her opinions to herself than Jo was. Maybe she was finally grieving a little for those people she’d known.

“So what do we have?” Dean stepped back from the cork wall of the upstairs office and turned. They had a map and a few other items tacked up, the bare bones of a case wall.

“You mean besides heartburn from those mozzarella sticks earlier?” Jo grimaced, pressing hand to her chest.

“You’re the one just had to have them,” Dean reminded her. Normally she wouldn’t touch mozzarella sticks, but now she wanted them all the time, with extra marinara sauce, and every time, they gave her heartburn.

“They tasted so good going down, too.” She reached for a pad of paper and pen.

Gwen sat in the chair beside her. She was fresh from a shower and in pajamas, her hair wet and braided. “Arlene said Samuel had her track down a witch. He wanted a meeting.”

“There were hex bags at the compound.” Sam slid his chair closer to Gwen.

The arrangement of chairs, three on one side of the table facing him, made Dean feel a little like a teacher facing a class.

He watched the two closely. Since the compound, Sam was even more protective of Gwen. He found it a little amusing that Sam was following the same path Dean himself had trod. The protective urges, the initial hesitation to pursue the woman he was interested in, and now his feelings deepening. He prayed it wouldn’t end in some sort of disaster.

“Arlene knew Samuel wanted to raise his daughter.” Gwen picked up a pencil and a separate pad of paper. “She thought he was going to offer the witch me as a sacrifice to somehow make that happen.”

Jo paused in writing. “Were they trying to raise a powerful demon who might be able to do that?”

“A god she said. I don’t know which one. She didn’t say, only that they’d waited a long time to make it happen.”

“Could be any of them. Anything else?” Dean set his beer bottle on the table.

“Yeah.” Gwen drew one leg up and rested her chin on her knee. “She said I was picked because it’s a pattern. My birth day and time.”

Sam sucked in a noisy breath at that, but didn’t say anything, so Dean asked, “You said Arlene thought the witch was watching her?”

“And not twelve hours later that house was on fire. Looks like she was right.”

“Cheryl texted your name. Well, most of it. All but the ‘n’ on the end.” Dean rested his hands on the table and leaned on them. “That’s something. Warning to you maybe? Hey, you know what W.O.S. means?”

“Sure. Witch on site. A quick abbreviation. We had several for all possible emergencies. With texting becoming popular, it was something we started to be with the times.”

“Smart.” Approval shone in Jo’s eyes. “I like that idea. We should totally do that here.”

Sam stared at the table top, lips moving and no sound coming out. He’d obviously connected something, but whether or not he had it firm enough to share was another matter.

Dean cleared his throat. “Sam?”

“A pattern. I think I….” Excitement slid across his face and disappeared, replaced by determination. His attention turned to Gwen. “How did Arlene know any of that? Where did she get the information?”

She raised her chin from her knee. “She said she looked through the boxes and things in Samuel’s office.”

“Something in the last of those boxes should have the information,” Jo concluded.

“Boxes we now have in our possession.” Dean allowed a little smile to blossom. Maybe things were turning around. “What don’t we know?”

“Who Mia and Aaron were exactly.” Jo set her pen down. “We know they did research and they were Gwen’s birth parents, but nothing else. No real names.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “We don’t know if the witches now connect to what happened in the past or if it’s two separate events. There are grounds for a possible connection in my opinion. Arlene mentioned birth date and time, which means not only did she see Gwen’s birth certificate, she saw whatever Samuel had on the witches and based her conclusion on that information.” He sounded more than a little smug at that, indicating to Dean that Sam really had connected something. “We don’t know why Cheryl texted Gwen’s name or what exactly gave Arlene the information. File, journal, we don’t know.”

“What ties it all together to make sense? What could bring it all together?” Getting up, Jo stretched, twisting and turning, hands on her lower back.

“If the witches are the connection.” Sam didn’t say it like it was a mere possibility, but rather as though he was sure of it for some reason. “I can add birth date and time to my search criteria. Witches, sacrifices, four year cyle --”

“What if none of it is connected?” Gwen’s voice was harsh. “What if it’s all separate? Coincidence? What if I was taken as a baby to hurt my parents? It worked, they died. Neal and Patricia took me to raise me out of respect and kindness. What if the four year cycle mentioned wasn’t connected to me and my parents, but was just a case Neal and Patricia had going on at the same time? What if Samuel stumbled back on the same witches and he thought he could raise Mary and just needed a sacrifice, no special thought into it? He had weird ideas on what was actually considered family. What if Arlene read wrong and assumed just like we’re doing?”

“But what if Arlene was right?” Jo returned to her chair. “Gwen, you said yourself she was good at finding people and information. If she was that good, she wouldn’t make that mistake when it concerned the life of someone she cared about. What if it’s all connected, every last bit of it? The case they had back then and you. Your birth day and time. The four year cycle. Human sacrifices --”

“But it’s assumption to begin with that I was part of some plot as a baby. Simple possible explanation is that someone targeted my parents because of a case, whatever it was, not necessarily the witches, and it was revenge.”

Dean studied her. She wasn’t liking the idea of some plot hatched way back when she was a baby. He didn’t blame her. Hearing things like that and realizing they were probably true was never fun. He and Sam both knew about that. “We work on assumption much of the time anyway. You know that, and after looking at the other diaries Patricia Campbell left, I highly doubt she would have mentioned any of that in the same entries unless there was a connection. You’ve read them, too. You know that. You’re connected, whether you like it or not.”

She was fighting the notion, shaking her head, looking more upset by the second.

“Let’s look through the boxes we found in Samuel’s office, try to find whatever it was gave Arlene that information. They were the last boxes we packed, so they should be the ones we put in the extra room up here. Sam and I will follow up on the Atwater case, which could connect to another cold case, then start looking deeper into the four year theory. We’ll keep an eye out for witches, hex bags, and anything in the news that could concern any of that.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll try the detective from the ‘89 case again. He should be back by now and depending on what he says, I’ll go back to Ellen’s source.”

Gwen got up and hurried down the stairs.

“One of you want to go after her,” Dean asked, standing straight again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam got up, intending on following Gwen. He wasn’t sure why she’d become upset so quickly, and exactly what over. “I’ll go.”

Jo shook her head. “No, you guys stay put. Keep reasoning this out. I’ll talk to her. I could use a pee break anyway.”

He waited approximately a minute before following her, standing at the open screen door. Gwen and Jo were on the porch swing and he hesitated to go out.

“I’m tired of all of it, Jo. I mean, do I really want to know what happened when I was a baby? It was thirty-two years ago. How could what happened back then connect to anything current? It’s all speculation.”

Maybe once he would have said similar words, but he knew now that witches, demons, and all sorts of creatures had patience when implementing their plans. They’d wait centuries, so thirty-two years was actually nothing.

He saw Jo nod her head in agreement and her question was nearly too low to hear. “What is it you’re afraid we’ll find?”

Sam could kick himself. Of course. She had fear all over her.

Gwen was quiet a minute. “What if my parents were evil? I mean really, unapologetically evil? What if they weren’t what the Campbell family thought? Mom…Patricia…. She always talked about witches and how you never knew they were there, like it had been a personal betrayal. What if…. What if my birth parents were evil? Jo, I’d lose Sam. He already has issues about thinking he’s half monster and if he thought I had evil in me somewhere --”

He did have issues with that and she knew his reasons, though she hardly agreed with his conclusions. But to assume that he’d think she was evil if Mia and Aaron turned out to be so? It was ridiculous. Where had she gotten that idea? He knew Gwen and knew her well. She wasn’t evil and while she’d been deceived before, she was hardly evil inside.

“Stop.” Jo held up a hand. “Stop right there. Don’t borrow trouble. Sam knows the difference between adults choosing evil and innocent babies. You’re a good person, Gwen, raised by two people who appear to have been good people as well. You aren’t your birth parents no matter what sort of people they were.”

“Are you sure he knows the difference? He talks about children like raising has no effect on them; like if a child is born to two evil people, it’s predestined to be evil. He makes like there’s no choice, no free will. If my parents were evil, he’ll see me as a monster because of that, and no way he’ll want to be with me anymore --”

He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. “This is all my fault. Gwen, I had no idea --”

Jo stood up, putting herself between him and Gwen. “I told you to stay put.”

“Couldn’t. I need to talk to Gwen about this.”

“Can you fix this?”

“Maybe?”

“Then fix it.” With a roll of her eyes, Jo left them alone.

Sam dragged a chair over to the swing and sat down across from Gwen. “I had no idea those things I said would do this to you. Dean’s not the only one with foot in mouth disease. I occasionally suffer from a pretty bad case of it myself. Case in point: kids and what I think about them. Um…. I didn’t think we’d need to really discuss it in depth quite yet, but…I think we need to in order to get at the main issue.” Leaning over, he rested his forearms on his knees, hands clasped loosely together. “First off, I know every man, woman, and child has free will. It’s proven. I never meant it to sound like I thought there wasn’t. Dean and I proved it fairly well, busting out of what we were told was predestined with choices we made for ourselves that the angels and demons didn’t believe possible.”

She turned her head, looking at the yard. A breeze rustled the treetops and the bushes. Her cheeks were flushed.

“Bear with me okay? This could take a few minutes.” He thought on how to proceed. Maybe he needed to really explain matters rather than talking around them. “I have issues. Man, do I have issues. Where to begin, right?” He unclasped his hands, gesturing with them as he spoke. “I’ll start at the beginning. You know some of this already. I was given demon blood as a baby and I believe it had a corrupting influence inside me, making me more susceptible to demonic influence. Ruby was that end influence and I ended up addicted to demon blood, which weakened me while making me feel like I was stronger. I deceived myself into thinking my choices were good ones because, hey, I was working towards good goal, right? It doesn’t work that way. At the first drop of demon blood offered to me as an adult, I should have refused.” His heart pounded hard in his chest. “That was a preparation to get me ready to be Lucifer’s vessel.”

She glanced at him, then away.

“My addiction was removed, purged from me right after he was released, but I’m not sure the blood itself was removed. If it was…. I was corrupted as a baby, left with a vulnerability, and I’m hesitant to pass that on to a child that’s biologically mine. If the blood is still there, it’s a possibility. However, when I got my soul back, I felt cleansed in a way I never had. Purified. Like the past was the past and I had a fresh body to start over with.” He shrugged. “Maybe my issues there are no longer real issues, but phantom ones in my mind. Maybe that blood is gone.”

Gwen drew her legs up, arms wrapping around them.

“My personal experience says kids can be corrupted and influenced, but you’re right. You are. It can go both ways. A good influence is a good one and a bad one is a bad one. Two people can be raised in the same conditions, the same way, but if one has a positive influence somewhere in that life, they’ll turn out far different from each other. They’ll turn out far different anyway. There are plenty of various factors involved in what causes people to seriously choose to be evil. I’m not talking about those who are deceived into evil, but those who actively choose it.” He sat up and gestured to himself. “My issues revolve around how I see myself and any kids I could have some day. I’m trying to not think of myself as a monster anymore, or a freak, but it’s hard to change old habits.”

She looked at him finally.

“If we had kids, I know I wouldn’t have to worry about the vessel issue. Cas said you’re not special that way, so that only leaves the other one really. Well…and the genetic material passing on from me that could eventually become the line again.” He shook his head. “It’s different with you and your birth parents. You didn’t have angels and demons messing with you and your family for archangel line purposes.”

“You’re so scared of having kids, Sam. I just don’t agree with your fears. I think the other factors can be stronger and you and Dean proved that. Yes, you did say yes to Lucifer, but you did it on your terms and overpowered him in the end. You were stronger than the evil they tried to put in you. That’s a credit to your raising and to your relationship with Dean. Especially to your relationship with Dean.”

She had a point with that and one he hadn’t thought about. He’d considered the subject of free will and knew his strong tie with Dean had ultimately won the battle, but to add that his raising had helped strengthen him to fight Lucifer? He thought of all the good and bad things up to that moment when he’d said yes; the choices he, Dean, and their dad had made. If his raising had been any different, it could have weakened his relationship with Dean, which would have changed the outcome of that battle inside his body.

“You are not a monster and if that blood is gone, then what corrupts your genetic line? Nothing. That line is no different than Michael’s or Raphael’s or Gabriel’s. Think about it. All of those lines were pure in the beginning, right? It was probably only when Lucifer rebelled that his vessel had to be tainted to contain him because he was tainted by evil.”

“You see how I got to my view?”

She nodded. “There’s a lot behind it.”

“There is. Now…. The main issue. Gwen, I don’t care who your birth parents turn out to be or what they were. You were raised by Neal and Patricia. You’re not evil. Nothing in what I know of you suggests you’re evil in any way, shape, or form. I’ve seen many facets of one woman and nothing remotely evil hiding in there.”

“I just…. I don’t want you to see me any differently than you do. Sam….” She took a deep breath and shifted position, legs down, hands gripping the edge of the swing seat. “I love you and it’s okay, you don’t have to say it back. But it would hurt me if what we find out changed our relationship. I don’t want it to change. I don’t want to lose what we have and it seems like it’s easier to drop any investigation than to push forward.”

“You won’t lose it and I don’t want to lose you or what we have either.” His phone buzzed and he didn’t even draw it out, letting it go to voicemail. “But I’m not so sure we have a choice in this matter. I think the cases are the same and we’re already in the middle of whatever it is.” Sam moved from the chair to the swing beside her. “Let me ask you…. Some of what I told you were things you’d never heard before. Do you see me any differently because of them?”

“No.” She made it sound like he’d said a ridiculous thing, the very point he was getting to.

“Then why do you think I’d see you differently? You’re not Gwen Carys, you’re Gwen Campbell and that’s the end of these fears, got it?”

Slowly, she nodded, the lines of strain easing from her face. “Yeah.”

“I can’t stop investigating this idea. We are so close to answers. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He held her for a few minutes and when she returned inside the house, he checked his phone.

The detective had finally called him back. Sam returned the call, then spoke to Ellen’s source and headed up to the office. Gwen was back up there, helping Dean put bullet points on the cork tile.

“Hey, I might have something concrete. That symbol isn’t one that’s prevalent, but it surfaces about every four years and has for awhile. The symbol from ’89 is the same one from ’09. Ellen’s source confirmed cases from ‘85, ‘93 with the symbol. ‘85 familiar to anyone?”

“My mom’s diary had ‘85 listed in the pattern.” Gwen turned from the wall.

“He’s looking into failed abductions in the pattern years that might fit, but he did give me the names of two men in prison with the symbol tattooed on them.” Names he’d run across before.

“Good work, Sammy. Anything else?”

Sam thought of the things he could mention at this point and shook his head. “Not yet.” He needed to sit down with the information he had and lay it all out, double checking the facts to see if what he thought he had now was really there. “But I’ll let you know when I do have something else.”

Dean knew he had information, Sam could see it on his face, but he merely nodded and turned back to the wall, silently giving Sam permission to pursue whatever he had at his own pace and bring it out when it became pertinent.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bobby’s house was quiet. He was off on a job with Rufus and Ellen, something Jo had found about a locket. The three had gone tearing out with some special box Bobby had made.

Dean rubbed his eyes. “I swear I’m seeing double. All these symbols look alike now.” He was bored with trying to identify the symbol and Sam was being closemouthed on the angle he was working up, on the phone and computer at all hours the past few days in an almost manic burst of energy.

Beside him, Jo smiled and flipped a page in one book. “Take a nap.”

He looked at her. She was looking particularly saucy today, with her hair down and a tank top that was considerably lower cut than it should be due to the recent increase in her bust line. He was enjoying all of the changes her body was going through with the baby even if she wasn’t particularly thrilled with some of them. “I don’t want to take a nap.” He turned in his chair and leaned over, arms going around her and hands hooking on the chair, dragging it close. “I want my beautiful wife to stop searching for a symbol we probably won’t find and canoodle with me for awhile.” He pressed a couple kisses along her arm up to her shoulder.

“Canoodle, Dean?” She didn’t turn her head, looking at him from the corner of her eye, a thing he found enticing when paired with that flirtatious tone.

“Kiss me, woman.”

She turned her head then, leaning over. He snaked a hand up to her breasts, giving a gentle caress, inching the neckline of her tank lower. They’d barely begun to kiss when a knock sounded on the door.

He leaned back a fraction. “Who do you think that is?” He ran a finger along the neckline of the tank. Maybe whoever it was would go away.

“Can’t be Rufus, he’s with mom and Bobby. It’s not Shawn, he’s afraid Bobby really will blow his nuts off if he comes back. Maybe it’s Melissa?”

The knock sounded again, only this time it more of a pounding.

“Damn it,” Dean muttered, releasing her and pushing his chair back. “I wanted to canoodle.”

“Answer the door. We’ll canoodle and more when whoever it is is gone. I promise.” She leaned back and grasped the edge of the tank. “Here’s a preview to tide you over.” She flashed him a lovely view of her breasts encased in lace and satiny fabric, then lowered the tank back in place.

“Must I answer it?”

“Go.”

Grumbling about the unfairness of it all, he went to the door and opened it. His good mood went dark in a second. “Ben? What the hell are you doing here?”

The teenager swallowed hard and licked his lips. “Dean…. I need your help.”

Dean’s throat seemed to constrict, barely letting any air through. His past was going to collide with his present in about ten seconds and he wasn’t anywhere ready for that to happen.

Son of bitch.