Title: Nothing and Everything

Chapter 16

~~~~~~~~~~

In an old, abandoned grocery store in a small town in West Virginia, a rumbling began. Cracks appeared in the east wall that butted up against the bank next door. The rumbling grew worse. Items fell off of shelves, glass jars breaking and spilling contents that should never see the light of day again to the floor. Chunks of plaster began to fall from the ceiling.

In the center of the building, a box sat. It was a square foot in diameter. Beneath the box was a symbol on the floor and above it on the ceiling was the same symbol. On the box were more symbols.

One chunk pushed the box askew from the exact center placement on the symbol, taking it out of alignment and breaking one protection spell.

Another chunk fell directly on the box, denting one symbol and eradicating another set of protections. If there’d been anyone present to hear, they would have noticed a sound very much like an excited whispering.

A hole appeared in the roof and wall by the bank, a final chunk breaking open the wood of the box lid enough that the final protection spell and the containment seal were broken. The box lid splintered, the creature that had been imprisoned rising up.

He was shadow and mist at present, weak from his slumber, and very angry at those who’d jailed him. He had a long memory and made his way through the town, seeking a trace of the ones he needed to destroy. If he killed them, he could never be jailed again and he’d remain free in the world, like he’d been briefly decades earlier and a much longer time before that. He searched and watched and discovered a man that was perfect for his purposes.

He did need a body after all and this one was…fitting.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mick Richardson hated Sirens. He hated everything about them, but they were the only job near where he was at present. He’d finished up the last old case Ellen had given him and only gloated a fraction that he’d now solved four of what the Campbell family had called ‘unsolvable’. He thought it was more a case of them being too bored to finish the cases, though assented that perhaps new facts had come to light with time.

He pretended to take a drink from his glass and watched the Siren work a man across the room. It’d be more fun if Sophie was there with him. She made everything fun, but no, she was still Alaska. He couldn’t wait until she was back with him. Christmas just wasn’t going to be the same without her there. He’d bought her a gift, a tiny piece of lingerie, and when she was back, he’d give it to her, let her wrap herself, and then unwrap her.

His phone buzzed as an email came through and he opened it, read the message from Jo Winchester and responded. Quite an interesting looking box they were trying to find. He wondered who had the design for something like that. Wood, silver, and lead. Interesting concept. It was no trouble to look out for it. He was already looking out for several things for other people. Mick put the phone away and continued his surveillance.

As he watched the Siren over the next few days, making sure she was who he thought, he became aware of being watched himself. It made no sense. There was never anyone there, yet he knew without one doubt that he was being watched.

At his car, he gave the area a glance, and opened the back, removing a shotgun loaded with salt rounds. Mick turned. “Okay, you son of a bitch, let’s tangle!”

Quiet. A frigid breeze swept down the deserted street and he squinted at one spot at the far end of the street. For a second, it had almost looked like a man standing there.

No. There. Out of the corner of his eye.

He whirled. A shadow again, there and not at the same time.

“Show yourself,” he said in a commanding voice.

To his surprise, it did, and Mick was able to see exactly what came to take him over. The last thing he heard was the sound of his gun discharging mingled with his own screams.

~~~~~~~~~

With a goal in mind, December passed quickly in a flurry of strangeness. The break was over. Jobs began popping up in a steady stream. Sam and Dean took some of them and passed others on to other hunters. Jo and Gwen tore open the remaining Campbell boxes at the house and at Bobby’s house looking for that wooden and silver box and anything in Aaron Carys’s handwriting. By now, they all knew his handwriting on sight. The drawing the Trickster had given Gwen was copied and passed around. Ellen, Bobby, and Rufus all got copies, and Jo had sent a scan to Sophie, Mick, and Chris. All said they’d keep an eye out for it.

Calamity Granny nibbled at the bait Dean had set out, but she didn’t take it, sending him a private message that read ‘You’ll have to do better than that, Dean dear.’ How she’d known it was him puzzled him until he talked to Ellen and discovered she and Calamity Granny had been chatting a lot online. Granny had asked if the user was Dean and Ellen had confirmed it. Dean then made a mental note to have Sam give Ellen the whole ‘being careful online’ talk.

When he and Sam were present, they spelled Gwen and Jo with Ellen’s holiday rituals as the two were getting tired of them. Dean let himself be dragged to a madrigal dinner at the college and was pleasantly surprised to find that the dresses the women were wearing left a nice amount of cleavage on view. He had a nice time ogling the women and Ellen had a nice time bonding with her son-in-law over wassail (hot apple juice with spices) and chicken. They both left in a decent mood.

That mood faded two days before Christmas when Sophie called. Jo passed her phone to him. “Here, Dean. Talk to her. You want to hear this.”

He took the phone. “Sophie? What’s up?”

“Have you heard from Mick?”

“Not for awhile. You back from Alaska?” He recalled her having said she was sorting out her stepsister’s estate. “I thought you were staying until January.”

“I was, but we wrapped up earlier than I’d thought. Listen, Dean…I can’t locate Mick. Usually he’s easy to reach and calls me back within hours, but he’s not answering and I can’t get his location. GPS isn’t working.” She was upset, very much so.

“You have his last known location?”

“Yes, but it does no good. He’s not there. I’m there now and he’s just not here. I can’t pick up his trace. I’ve been trying for five days now. His car isn’t here, or his things. He’s just…gone. And don’t say he probably took off on me. Don’t you dare say that. Mick’s not that way. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

No way he would suggest it. Mick only had eyes for Sophie. “Where was he?” Last known location was in West Virginia. Dean wrote down the particulars, from the dates he’d been there to the motel he’d told Sophie he was at, then asked, “You know what he was working on?”

“No. He said it was a relatively easy job, a Siren, and that was the last time I heard from him. Dean, he’s never out of touch like this. I just --”

“Okay, okay.” He could hear her crying, her voice thick from tears. He could also hear the worry that Mick was dead and the Siren had disposed of him. “Sophie, calm down. Can you do that for me?”

When she’d composed herself once more, he asked a few more questions about Mick, things he didn’t already know, such as aliases and the like. Sophie said she’d already begun checking them out, but Dean assured her they’d do what they could and let her know if they’d made progress on a weekly basis. He wasn’t sure what she thought they could do, but it was nice to know she had confidence in them.

They had their first Christmas as a family, he, Jo, Jack, Sam, and Gwen. Even Sam had agreed they should start making their own traditions instead of holding on to old ones. A fresh start.

Jo and Gwen had bought a tabletop tree and decorated it while he and Sam were taking care of a werewolf in Georgia. Jo showed them how all they’d have to do after Christmas was unplug it and put it back in the box, her excitement in the fact obvious in the width and smugness of her grin.

“It doesn’t even take up two feet of space. Is it not awesome?”

She was right. It didn’t take up two feet of space. “It’s wonderful.” The presents on the table took up more space than it did. The entire table was littered with red, gold, green, and burgundy wrapped packages, most of approximately the same size. Dean touched one. “You, uh, get a little carried away with the presents?”

“Not me. That’s mom’s doing. I told you she goes nuts at Christmas. You didn’t believe me when I told you the extent she can go to without anyone to hold her back. Ninety-nine percent of those are for Jack.”

“He’s not old enough to rip into presents yet or even know that these are for him. He’s three months old.”

“I know, but mom found a sale or something on what she called essentials for the three to nine month old, so I’m not gonna complain if she wrapped up ten packages of diapers and formula. We’ll use them.”

“Ellen’s sure getting into this grandma stuff,” Sam remarked, separating the packages into piles. Dean would swear he saw a little bit of excitement in his eyes as he found one with a glittery homemade tag that read ‘Sam’.

“Getting into it?” Gwen sat in one straight backed dining chair and crossed her legs. “You not been paying attention since his birth?”

“I’ve been paying attention. It’s just…she’s paying for a lot. Diapers, wipes, formula, clothes, car seat. I could keep listing things off?”

Dean picked up a gift addressed to him. “Jack’s her only grandkid and she never thought she have any. I think a little excess is okay.”

“A little?” Sam raised a brow and gestured to the largest pile of presents. “Exhibit ‘A’ labeled ‘Jack’.” He gestured at the much smaller pile with his other hand. “Exhibit ‘B’ labeled either ‘Jo’, ‘Dean’, ‘Gwen’, or ‘Sam’.”

“You want more gifts,” Jo asked. “I didn’t do gifts this year, but I can totally run out and get you something before the stores close if you want.”

“Sweet thought, Jo, but no. I just think she bought too much.”

“Okay, but say the word and I’m at the store.”

Christmas eve was a quiet affair, just the four of them, drinking eggnog and watching the bloodiest action movie they could find to offset a month of Ellen’s Christmas rituals they’d endured. However, when they went off to bed Dean discovered Jo had told a lie in regards to not having shopped.

On his side of the bed was a present, not a big one, but prettily wrapped. Dean picked it up and shook it. It wasn’t heavy, nor did it make much of a sound. Some kind of clothing? “Thought you didn’t shop?”

“It wasn’t special Christmas shopping. We were at the store anyway and I saw those and…. Open it.”

She looked like she was trying not to burst into laughter, making little snorting noises as her expression wavered back and forth between pleased and devious.

He opened the present and when the contents were exposed, he understood the grin and laughter. Dean held up the underwear with the Batman symbol on them and studied them. While he’d known they made such things for grown men, he’d never expected Jo to actually shell out money for them. As he looked at them, he got an idea for future fun. “Let’s make a deal here, Jo.”

She crossed her arms. “What kind of deal?”

“I’ll wear these for you if you’ll wear a little something for me at a later date.”

Jo considered that a minute. “You’ll actually wear those? You know I meant them as a gag gift, right?”

“Uh-huh. I know. But I’ll wear them, if you wear something for me later.”

“What would that something be?”

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head. “My choice and to be revealed whenever I decide it’s time.”

Still grinning, she bit her lip a second, then nodded. “Deal.” She held out her hand and they shook on it.

“I’m holding you to that.”

“I’m willing to be held.”

“You want to see me in these now?”

“Of course. Strip.” From downstairs came Sam’s laughter and Jo giggled. “Gwen got Sam the Superman ones,” she blurted out.

“You two are trouble,” he told her.

“I bet her ten bucks he won’t wear them.”

“I’ll bet you ten he will if she asks the right way.” He’d bet Gwen had figured out the right way to ask, too.

“Deal.”

They shook on it and his fashion show commenced a few minutes later, though he declined Jo’s offer of some catwalk music.

Christmas day was a required party at Bobby’s. Dean wondered if Bobby put up with Ellen’s party because he enjoyed it or because he’d given up trying to get his way with her around. Could be either or a bit of both.

He even caught Bobby giving Ellen a peck under the mistletoe Dean had tacked above one door. It was a quick kiss and nothing that should have set off any alarms, yet Dean saw something on both their faces that made him immediately join Sam at the desk and gesture at Bobby and Ellen with his beer bottle. “You see what I see?”

“A friendly kiss?”

“Huh. You think they…” He shrugged. “I mean they spend a lot of time together here and going out on jobs. Things happen.”

“Bobby and Ellen?” Sam barely looked over at them. “You think?”

“Huh,” he repeated. “Probably my imagination. You feel up to a poltergeist in Montana next week?”

“Is it definitely a poltergeist?”

“Looks like. Family is out of town right now, but willing to meet us there.”

“Sure. Start the year off with a bang.” Sam’s gaze shifted to the middle of the room. Gwen was on the floor with Jack, playing with him on a blanket.

Dean chuckled. “Might as well. So…. Superman. You got any plans with her this year? Anything…special?”

“Superman,” he repeated and sighed. “Was it Jo or Gwen told you?”

“Jo.”

“Right.”

“You wear them?”

“Inappropriate, Dean. I’m not asking if you wore the ones Jo gave you, though I assume you did.”

“Why would you assume that?”

Sam stared at him. “Really? You have to ask that question?”

Maybe it was a stupid question. Dean let it go, but persisted on the other. “Come on, Sam. I have money on this. Yes or no?”

“No.”

“So you didn’t?”

“No, I mean I’m not answering.”

Dean watched him with eyes narrowed slightly, noting the mild touch of holiday appropriate red on Sam’s cheekbones, a faint indication of either anger or embarrassment. With a mental coin toss, he decided it was the latter. “You totally wore them. I knew it. Bet she was naked when she asked, too.”

“You’re impossible and inappropriate.”

“Thank you. Plans with her then? Aside from the Lois Lane--Clark Kent thing, I mean.”

Sam paused in raising his glass to drink, rolled his eyes, and asked, “Like what?” He was trying for casual and would have fooled anyone but Dean. His mind was working on something.

“I don’t know. Anything. Vacation, something nice. You’re always telling me to do nice things for Jo. Can’t I tell you to do something nice for Gwen? Do something nice for her.”

“Am I supposed to have plans?”

Again, he shrugged. “It’s just you’ve been watching her awfully hard whenever we’re back here.” Watching, staring, studying…making sure she was still there. Dean knew all about that sort of looking.

“I can’t look at my girlfriend? You look at Jo all the time. I like looking at Gwen.” He took a long drink. “Besides, after her disappearing, I want to look at her more, you know?”

Dean nodded. “I do.” When they’d finally gotten Jo back to her self, he hadn’t gotten tired of looking at her -- just to make sure she was really there. “I figure we’ll take the poltergeist, see if we can hit up something on the way back, then Jo and Gwen can go out to one of the properties while we take a week off.” Alarm flashed in Sam’s eyes, but Dean went on before he could say anything. “Timeline, Sam. I put the properties forward as a job I could deal with Jo doing. I can’t backtrack now no matter how much I want to. I told her I was fine with it and I’m going to be fine with it, just like you’ll be fine with Gwen going with her.”

He snorted. “No. Not fine.” Sam drained his glass. “But I’ll white-knuckle it, I guess. No way you and I can tackle jobs and those properties for the box, too. Even if we get Ellen and Bobby helping…. It’s too much.” He sighed. “Fine.”

They’d finish out the year at their home base and hit the new year hard.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo knelt behind Dean, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek against his back. While he’d shared his plan for January, she knew she had to approach this matter with a little delicacy. “I got an email from Mary-Louise Sheffield.”

“And?”

“The auction is at the end of the month. The flapper dress,” she reminded him, keeping her voice soft and tone neutral.

He grasped her hands with his, caressing. “Then let’s attend an auction.”

“You and me? Outside together? You feeling okay, sweetheart?” She pressed a series of slow, lingering kisses along his spine to the base of his neck, then rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Why not? Not like Sam and Gwen can’t baby sit. They’re both pretty good with Jack and like you said before, it’s a pick-up, right?” He turned his head, looking at her. “Unless there’s something you haven’t shared with me about it?”

“It’s just a pick-up. Nothing more.”

“Okay then. We’ll go.”

“You’re sure?” Sam and Gwen baby sit? While she and Dean went out to the auction? Jo shifted position so that she was beside him and not behind him. “You’re absolutely serious, Dean?” What had changed? Why was he okay with the two of them being out at the same time now?

“I am.” He slid one arm around her waist and dragged her across his lap. “Besides, we could meet some interesting people there.”

“Doubtful.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Never know the kind of people you’ll find there. Could be fun.”

She smiled and reached up, sliding her fingers along his cheek. “Now I know you’re not feeling well. What’s going on? What are you up to?”

“Feelin’ fine.” He leaned down, lips caressing hers for a long moment. “Happy New Year.”

“I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Jo.”

They rang in the New Year a little late in a most satisfactory way.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean wasn’t sure what woke him up. He laid still in bed, listening, thinking he might still be dreaming and not really awake. Jo was asleep beside him, curled on her side and he touched her face with his fingertips, lightly caressing. He heard the furnace come on and had just decided it was something in his dream that had woken him when he heard the creak of the rocker in Jack’s room through the monitor.

It was a slight noise that normally wouldn’t worry him except Jo was still with him and Sam and Gwen rarely came up in the middle of the night. Not to mention he suspected Sam and Gwen were passed out. They’d been celebrating the New Year pretty hard. They’d done the drinking and he’d kept on pouring, glad to see both of them having fun.

He sat up. Those noises….

It sounded like something, or some one, feeding.

He was wide awake then, grabbing the gun he kept by the bed and running from their room to the doorway of Jack’s room. He aimed as he went through the door. For a brief second, Dean had the horrible image of the past with Sam as a baby repeating itself, a demon stealing into their home for nefarious purposes. But then he realized it was Abigael holding Jack, giving him a bottle and smiling gently down at him while she rocked him.

She glanced up, still smiling and looking completely unaware that he’d been about to shoot her. Not that a bullet would do much to her save annoy her. “Hello Dean. Happy New Year.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” he told her, reaching out with one hand and turning the monitor off so Jo wouldn’t wake up. His other hand, shaking, laid the gun on the dresser. His heart was beating faster than he’d thought it possible to beat and still be alive and he decided it was a real possibility that he might throw-up right there in the doorway. “It’s four in the freakin’ morning.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to wake up.”

“What are you doing here?” He edged closer, half afraid she’d disappear and take Jack with her. His goal was to get close and snatch Jack from her.

She rocked. “I like babies and Jack’s the only one I know personally at present.”

“Uh-huh. What happened to human behavior? Popping into my house at four in the morning to hold my baby isn’t exactly non-creepy, Abby. Does Cas know you’re here?”

“Of course he knows.”

“Of course he knows. Of course he knows?”

“You’re repeating yourself, Dean.”

“I’m….” He moved closer. “Rule number one: You don’t come in here in the middle of the night. I will angel proof this house.”

Alarm flashed in her eyes. “Dean --”

“Shut it until I’m done. Rule number two: You ask before touching him or I will end you.”

“I mean him no harm.” She set the bottle aside and burped Jack. He let out one loud belch and a softer one. It occurred to him that she looked like she’d had plenty of practice at it, not to mention Jack seemed at ease with her.

“Your ears clogged? I said shut it until I’m done. Rule number three: You claim you want to act human then you act it from the driveway all the way through this house. No angel powers, no popping in, and no midnight visits unless you walk up and knock. Am I understood?”

She didn’t look away, her stare just as intense as Castiel’s could be. “Yes.”

“Let me have him.” He held out his hands, gesturing. They were still trembling.

“Of course.” She said it like there was no doubt that she’d give Jack to him. Abigael held Jack up for him. “Here. I meant no harm to him, Dean. I never have and never will.”

“Maybe, but this is my family and my base, Abby. Any supernatural creature that comes here, you and Castiel included, can be a potential threat.”

“I do understand. You’re protecting your own.”

“Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry I frightened and startled you. It was hardly my intention. I also apologize for arriving so late at night. I wasn’t entirely certain you’d allow me to visit Jack.”

“Sneaking in isn’t the way to get permission.”

“May I come see him?”

“Come by tomorrow afternoon and we’ll talk about it.”

She nodded. “I will.”

He followed her downstairs and let her out the front door. She did as he asked, walking to the end of the driveway before disappearing. Dean let out a relieved sigh, holding Jack tight to him, and closed the door. He stayed awake the rest of the night, holding on to his son and thanking God and everyone he could think of that the visit had apparently been innocent.

After he was through being relieved, then Dean got angry.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean’s pissed.”

Castiel’s voice was hard and harsh and Abigael looked up at him. He stood over her with his hands in his coat pockets and a stern expression on his face. “I realize that.”

“He…insisted I speak to you. I’ve just spent an unpleasant half hour getting yelled at by him for allowing your behavior. The words ‘incompetent’ and ‘moron’ were used several times along with many of Dean’s favorite swear words.”

“I meant no harm.”

“You and I know that, but he doesn’t. You did review the details of his life, including childhood?”

“Yes --”

“Then you should understand why I told you to make certain he’s unaware of your nighttime visits.”

In truth, she’d reviewed so much information in such a little amount of time and on so many subjects concerning Dean and Jo and Sam as well, that one important detail had slipped by her. It was a crucial detail that had shaped the family into what it was today. She avoided Castiel’s eyes. ‘I forgot’ wasn’t going to cut it here.

He sat beside her, expression softening slightly. “You forgot, didn’t you.”

“There is the…possibility that the information got lost among the other bits of information I studied,” she admitted.

Am uncharacteristic bark of laughter left him and he shook his head. “Fix this, Abigael. Whatever you have to do to make them at ease with your presence in the child’s life. They’ll dictate terms. You’ll agree to them.”

“Dean already gave me rules.”

“There will be more.” He glanced at her. “Jo wasn’t awake then and the fierce protection of Dean for his child is nothing compared to what a mother will do for her children. Be apologetic and watch your words.” He gestured in the general direction of the house, several miles as the bird flew. “Go.”

She materialized in the middle of the road and walked to the door, pressing the doorbell. Dean, a large black trash bag in hand, let her in and directed her to sit on the couch and not move until they were ready to talk with her.

Sam and Gwen were still in their pajamas, though it was closing in on three in the afternoon. They were at the table, both with cups of coffee in front of them. It didn’t look to her like they’d touched the coffee. Sam had his head in his hands and was staring at the table. Gwen had her head down and was moaning every time Dean dumped a bottle into the trash bag -- which was often. Beer bottles littered the floor and flat surfaces and Abigael realized they’d had quite a party the night before.

New Years Eve, she remembered. Today was the first day of 2014.

Jo came downstairs with Jack and paced in front of her, holding the infant. Her stare was everything Castiel had hinted her manner would be. Dean had made her aware of the late visit and Jo wasn’t thrilled in the least by it. If her expression was any indication, she had quite a few things to say.

Suddenly, Sam bellowed, “Dean! Could you stop with the noise already?”

Gwen raised her head and glared at him before wincing and putting her head back down.

“You’re the lush who didn’t know when to stop drinking.”

“You’re the one who kept pouring,” Gwen pointed out. She gripped the edge of the table as though it was the only thing keeping her from sliding off her chair and onto the floor and sat up. “I’ve never been this hungover in my entire life. And that includes after Christian and Arlene took me out for my twenty-first birthday.” Her voice was a careful almost-whisper.

“Stop. Throwing. Things.” Sam pressed his palms to his head and groaned.

“Sure. Since you asked so nicely.” He picked up a bottle that was still mostly full and approached the table, waggling it at Sam. “Have some hair of the dog, you’ll be fine.”

Sam gulped. “You suck.” He got up and brushed past Dean. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Take some pain pills and drink a glass of water,” Jo told him as he passed her.

He slammed the door behind him, but the effect he was likely going for was ruined when he let out a noise of pain, a faint ‘damn it’ reaching them.

Gwen slowly let go of the table edge and stretched out a hand, grabbing one of the pairs of sunglasses on the table. She slid a pair on and sighed. “Much better.”

“Why don’t you go back to bed, too,” Jo suggested, briefly lifting her attention off of Abigael.

“Nah. I think I’m hungry.”

Dean went back to cleaning up. “Greasy cheeseburgers in the fridge.”

“Sadist,” Gwen replied, but she got up and staggered into the kitchen. A minute later the microwave was running, the smell of hamburgers in the air.

“What’s the significance of the cheeseburgers,” Abigael asked Jo.

“Hangover food.”

“Oh.” While she didn’t think the greasy food would help, having never been hungover she could be mistaken on that.

Finally, when Dean had dragged out the cleaning for nearly half an hour after Abigael’s arrival, he tied the bag and took it outside before coming to the chair beside the couch and sitting down. He stretched his legs out. “We need a few rules, Abigael.”

“I believe those were established early this morning. They aren’t unreasonable rules. I’ll follow them.”

“You damn well better,” Jo snapped.

“I’m sorry. Given the circumstances of the past, I should have realized what my visit would look like and it won’t happen again. I was in error.”

“In error.” Jo handed Jack to Dean. “In error. Yeah, you were in pretty much big fu --”

“Jo.” Dean nodded at Abigael, as though reminding her that she was talking to an angel.

It was obvious what her language was going to be, but at the nod, she changed her wording. “Freakin’ error. Three of us in this house have been manipulated and used by angels. It’s just common sense that we’d be suspicious of any angel who shows up in the middle of the night to visit our son. Even Castiel.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I do like children. I mean him no harm. He’s a very precious child and I’m fascinated by his development. Already he has a personality and he’s growing so fast.” She tried to push the fascination aspect. It was something they’d understand from their interactions with Castiel. It was something that might make this better for them. She shrugged. “To think that he’ll grow into an adult like the both of you is a wondrous thing to behold and to see the process unfold in front of me is…. Do you understand? Few angels have ever had the chance to witness a child growing to adulthood from a close perspective.”

“You’re just trying to understand child development,” Dean asked, though there was still suspicion there in his voice.

Jo studied her. “Once a week, supervised visits for an hour or two, cleared through whichever one of us has him. If those go well, we can renegotiate after a month. Is that fair, Dean?”

He grunted. “I guess, but if you take off with him, Abby, we will hunt you down and kill you.”

“The only reason I’d take him was if you asked it of me.”

“Good to know. Don’t count on that happening soon, but nice to have the option.”

Gwen stumbled out of the kitchen and across the living room to the bedroom door. She still had the sunglasses on and bumped into the couch twice on her way to the bedroom.

Abigael looked from Dean to Jo and back. “May I hold him now?”

“You held him last night,” Jo said. “This visit is visual only.”

She remained for two hours, sitting on the couch making small talk with Jo and Dean, then left through the front door and met Castiel at the end of the driveway. “It’s done,” she told him. “I think they believe me that I’m interested in his development.”

“You are interested. Try to be more careful in the future. Don’t make Dean any more suspicious than he already is.”

She nodded and let her shoulders slump a little once he was gone. She was making human errors and needed to remedy that as quickly as possible because, while she may be passing as one, she wasn’t a human and needed to remember that.