We wasted no time and hit the road, going in the Chevy Impala - which was currently owned by John. He was driving, as Mary told him the truth - of what she is, and what she does. It was a bit hard for him to swallow it, but he didn't freak out. The purr of the engine soothed me, but my desire to stay away only brought my slumber quicker. My energy was truly drained, and the last thing I remember was placing my head onto Sam's shoulder, and darkness came.

Next thing I knew, I was awakened by Sam shifting his weight, as the Impala was no longer purring its engine, and we were outside this abandoned house. The nap did me some good, and gave me a bit of my energy back. Sam helped me out of the car, my arm wrapped around his shoulder - if he wanted to I wouldn't even touch the ground, but he lowered himself, so I could walk up to the house. Mary entered the house first, just walking in, as there was no one home.

"Place has been in the family for years," she states, flicking on a switch, and the light in the living room lit up as we all poured inside. Mary heads over to a rounded rug, before crouching down, and flipping it onto itself. Which revealed a devil's trap. "Devil's trap," she announces back to her feet, as Sam guides me to the couch, and slowly begins placing me down. "Pure iron fixtures, of course," she turns on another light. As I leaned into the arm of the couch, and sat. Sam, leaning back up, turned to face his mother. "Um, there should be salt and holy water in the pantry. Knives, guns," she rolled off what might be useful to us.

"All that stuff will do is piss it off," Sam retorted.

"So, what will kill it? Or slow it down, at least?" Mary wanted to know how to defend herself from an Angel. Demons were one thing to her, but Angels were new territory.

"Not much," Sam hated to admit it.

"Great," Mary scoffs through the word, a smile upon her face, but it wasn't a happy smile. It was one of disbelief.

"He said not much, not nothing... We packed," Dean stepped forward, lifting the duffel bag into the air for a moment, before placing it on the dining room table. "If we put this up," Dean dug around in the bag, and pulled free a piece of paper. "And she comes close," he holds it out, and shows Mary the symbol. "We can beam her right off the starship," Dean and his references. Sam had joined them at the table, and pulled free a bottle of Holy oil.

"This is Holy oil. It's kind of like a – like a devil's trap for angels," Sam explained, his eyes flicking between it and Mary. "Come on. I'll show you how it works," Sam walks around Mary, and heads into another room. I see Mary give a glance to John, before following Sam.

"Hey, what's the deal with the thing on the paper?" John asks, stepping closer to the table.

"It's a sigil. That means-"

"I don't care what it means," John cuts off Dean. "Where does it go?" He didn't want to sit back, and not help.

"On a wall or a door," Dean states, casting his head around.

"How big should I make it?" John really wanted to get into this. Even though most people would have run away from it by now.

"John," Dean spoke his name softly.

"What? Y'all might have treated me like a fool, but I am not useless. I can draw a damn... Whatever it is – a sigil," John picks up the paper and casts his eyes upon it before reconnecting with Dean.

"Why don't you go help Sam out? Ok, 'cause this has got to be done in... It's got to be done in human blood," Dean thought that John wouldn't be up to the task. Next thing I know, John grabs a knife that Dean must have placed on the table, unsheathed it, and placed the sharp edge onto his palm. Before, reclining the knife back, and down his palm, cutting himself.

"So, how big?" John asked once again. He was one brave soul, and I see where the boys get it from now. Out of the blue, a piercing pain shot through my head, and my ears began to ring. I could see Dean's lips moving, but the words didn't come through. I squeezed my eyes shut, and tilted my head to the left, trying to focus, and get rid of it. Suddenly, I felt a hand press on my right shoulder, making me jolt up, and snap my eyes open to see Dean looking down at me.

"Are you ok?" He asked, with concern on his face.

"I'm fine. I'll help," I state, trying to raise myself up, but Dean pushed his hand down on my shoulder, to keep me there.

"You've done enough," he states, but I didn't resist him. I just stared up at him. "Rest," I was kind of shocked to hear these words coming from Dean, a person he hated the most when we first met.

"You know I can't," I replied, a thin smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but they didn't twist out into a full one.

"I know," Dean states, patting his hand down on my shoulder, before he lifts it off, and walks off, John following behind. I couldn't just sit here, and let them do all the work. But what choice did I have? I had no magic, no demonic abilities. I was mortal. But then again, so are Dean, Sam, Mary, and John. They had the strength to do what needed to be done. They didn't have powers at their disposal, and neither did I. Maybe once I would have thought differently, but the boys brought out my good side.

Finding my inner strength, I willed myself to stand up from the couch. My feet planted firmly onto the ground. My balance was alright for the moment. I took a few strides over to the table, and grabbed the duffel bag. I ripped it open,and dug around to find another knife, similar to the one John used. I pulled it free, and saw it was without a sheath. The blade glistened in the light, but it was all I needed to fight, and to help.

A while later, I drew an angel banishing sigil in one of the rooms, and it required a bit of blood to paint it properly. I helped Sam and Mary out a little, but Sam wandered off to check on John. Mary wandered back to the living, and poured the oil in there as I noticed Dean at the back door, drawing a sigil.

I made my way to check on John and Sam. I found them with ease, and I saw Sam sitting on this bench in the bedroom. From the doorway he looked teary-eyed. He must have had an emotional moment with his Father - without his father realizing. I moved forward, and into the room, their heads snapping to look at me.

"How's everything in here?" My eyes scanned the room, seeing the half finished sigil.

"Good," John spoke, before wandering back over to the door with the sigil on and began to finish it. My eyes turned to look at Sam.

"You ok?" I asked, stepping closer to him, as he remained seated.

"Yeah," he spoke with a deep rough tone, but I saw him swallow, and fight back the tears. "Are you? After everything?" He asks back, meaning the whole powerless and just a fragile human.

"Adapting," a thin smile creased my lips, thinking about me being mortal. "It's strange," I admitted, coming to sit to the left of Sam. "Before as - you know," my eyes flicked from Sam to see John doing his thing, but of course he would listen. "Getting hurt just seemed to brush off of me, and never lingered. But after what I did, I feel everything. The pain in my head, pain in my back, the ache in my legs. The bruises forming and when you press them they hurt," I chuckled as if I was a mad person for wanting to feel pain, to be hurt just to feel something. "Then I think," the chuckle from my voice faded, as reality set in. "I'm nothing without - my powers. I'm useless," my voice dipped in volume just to a whisper so John wouldn't hear. Sam just stared at me, I could see the understanding in his eyes. He knew what I meant.

"You're not useless Abbey," Sam retorted, trying to convince me otherwise.

"If I had my powers. I could have protected you all. I could have made this place a fortress," my voice was low as I spoke to Sam. "But here I am, drawing sigils in my blood," I flipped my right hand over, and showed Sam the slash across my palm. The blood had stopped flowing, and it just looked like a big cut.

"See, not useless," Sam reached over, and placed his large hand onto mine, and curled my fingers into my palm. "Come on. Let's check on Dean," Sam reclined his hand back, and stood to his feet as I followed suit.

We left John behind to finish off his sigil, and we made our way back to the living room where we heard soft voices speaking.

"A demon comes into Sam's nursery. Exactly six months after he's born – November Second, Nineteen-eighty-three. Remember that date," Dean rushed the words out, as he must have told Mary that he was her son, and from the future. "And whatever you do... Do not go in there. You wake up that morning and you take Sam and you run," Dean wanted to prevent his Mother's death.

"It's not good enough, Dean," Sam spoke as we reached the archway into the living room. Dean's head snapped to meet his brother's gaze. "Wherever she goes, the demon's gonna find her... Find me," Sam leaned against the frame. I folded my arms over my chest, watching the interaction between Mother and Son.

"Well, then what?" Dean was open to suggestions. Sam thought about it for a moment, taking a sigh, as he had one already brewing inside of his mind.

"She can leave Dad. That's what," Mary was surprised at Sam's words. "You got to leave John," Sam locked eyes with his mother.

"What?"

"When this is all over, walk away, and never look back," Sam states. Mary couldn't believe what she was hearing, and neither could I.

"So we're never born. He's right," Dean made the realization, that if they were never born Mary doesn't die, John doesn't die.

"I-I can't," Mary was crying, and the thought of leaving John just upset her even more. "You're saying that you're my children, and now you're saying –" Mary's eyes cocked between Dean and then to Sam.

"You have no other choice," Sam cuts her off.

"There's a big difference between dying and never being born. And trust me, we're ok with it, I promise you that," Dean was really ok never being born. But what about the good they've done? The many lives that they saved up to this point?

"Ok, well, I'm not,"

"Listen, you think you can have that normal life that you want so bad... But you can't. I'm sorry. It's all gonna go rotten. You are gonna die, and your children will be cursed," Sam's voice was steady and soft, because it's not what any Mother should hear from their own children's mouths. Mary shook her head, not wanting to believe that this is the only way.

"There – There has to be a way," Mary desperately wanted there to be another way.

"No, this is the way. Leave John,"

"I can't," she was more forceful.

"This is bigger than us. There are so many more lies at stake –"

"You don't understand. I can't," Mary cuts off Dean before he could finish his hero speech. I kept my mouth closed. I didn't want them to be erased, I would never have met them. "It's too late," her voice got low, and soft, as I stared at her. Then I clicked, I would have noticed it sooner. She was glowing, radiant even.

"You're pregnant," my voice soared through the air, as her head snapped towards me, and her eyes said it all. All she could do was nod her head at me. Dean was already growing inside of her.

Suddenly, rushed heavy footsteps came down the hallway, and I felt John go around me.

"Hey, we got a problem. Those blood things, the sigils – they're gone," John seemed worried.

"Gone as in..."

"I-I drew one on the back of the door. I turned around and when I looked back again, it was a smudge," this wasn't very good news at all. Dean took a few steps back into the dining room to look at the one he made. I see Mary crouch to the ground, and feel it where she had placed the holy oil.

"He's right," Dean states, agreeing that John wasn't going mad.

"There's no more holy oil," Mary spoke. Just then, the lights in the house began to flicker.. As well as a high-pitched sound rang through the house, which also got louder. One by one we placed our hands over our ears as the noise was unbearable. Then every glass window shatters, as if an explosion erupted from outside. The glass shards scattered around us, and the high-pitch sound dwindled. We lowered our hands, and took our gazes around the place. The door to the back door was shot open, alerting us all to someone coming. A black man in a suit walked through the door, and his eyes landed on Dean.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Uriel," the Angel announces.

"Oh, come on," Dean didn't sound too pleased when he heard that name.

"Go," Sam began to push us all back towards the front door. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anna on the stairs, looking at us. I stood to the left of Mary, as the boys were in front.

"Here goes nothin'" Dean states, before he lunges at Uriel, and Sam lunges towards Angel. One right after the other, Dean is thrown across the room into the kitchen, as Anna had blocked Sam's attack, and threw him through the wall, breaking the planks. I noticed the Angel blade on the floor, and ready for the taking. However, John had the same idea, and stepped towards it, but Anna got in the way. Anna places her hand under John's chin because he had crouched down to get the blade. She slowly raises him up from the floor, before hitting him square in the chest. Which sent him flying through the air, and out of a window.

"John!" Mary screams, as all she could do was watch him go. Mary was going to step forward, but I extended my hand over her, indicating not to move. I stepped forward, reaching behind my back, and pulling the knife free from my jeans waist. I didn't let her have the time to process it, before I began to swing the knife back and forward. Slicing through the air. She dodged the attacks, I thrusted the knife through the air, but she managed to catch my wrist. I quickly dropped the knife, and caught it in my other hand, sliced her leg, and spun away from her, though no real damage was done. I shot forward, but in a blink of an eye she vanished, and reappeared behind, but it was too late. She gripped me by my nape, and slung me through the wall Sam had busted through. I hit the staircase, smashing through the banister, and slamming into the wall. I tumbled down the steps, hitting each step along the way.

I rolled down, and across the floor. I groaned, generating new bruises. I hear planks of wood dropping to the ground, as I peer up to see Sam standing to his feet. Anna stalking towards Mary. Sam staggers into the room, and cocks his head down to the angel blade. He went for it, as Anna went for someone else. I scrambled to my feet, and staggered myself into the room, leaning on the threshold of the frame. Just in time to see Anna drive a pole into Sam's stomach. He gasps, and stumbles back, hitting the wall. He groans in pain, blood sprouting from his mouth and from the hole in the pipe.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice broke, seeing his brother impaled.

"Sam!" My own voice broke, seeing him like this. My veins filled with anger, and I did the only thing I knew. I charged forward putting every inch of energy into it. With Anna being distracted, I ruby tackled her to the ground. I struck her face a few times, but it didn't do anything. With a single push on my chest, I was flown through the air, hitting the back of the frame that led into the living room. I slid down, the wind knocked straight out of me. My vision, blurry, but I see Sam slide down the wall, and fall to the right. Blood slithered out of the pipe, and pooled on the floor.

"Sam!" Dean was terrified, he just witnessed his brother be killed. I forced myself up, clutching the side of my torso, as it hurt to move and to breath but I pushed through the pain. Anna's eyes locked onto mine. She could see the anger boiling away, and my hands clenching.

"Bitch!" I roared, and threw myself at her, but she caught me by my throat, and threw me to the side. As if I was trash. I skidded across the floor, and stopped, and to my left was Sam, dead. I reached out, placing a hand on his head, feeling no breath, no movement. Tears filled my eyes, as I was weak.

"Anna," John's voice rang free but it was deeper than normal. My eyes shot up as he appeared out of nowhere. A strange feeling washed over me, as if I felt this presence before.

"Michael," his name, his very presence here put the fear of God in her. Without another word, Michael stepped closer, and placed a hand onto her. Anna began to lit up within, as if she was set aflame inside. Anna threw her head back, as flames sprouted from her mouth and her eyes, screaming. But it did her no good, as she turned to burnt flesh before disintegrating right in front of us. Michael's gaze turned to that of Uriel, who stepped out of the kitchen.

"Michael... I didn't know," he claims, but Michael wasn't going to deal with him.

"Goodbye, Uriel," Michael snapped his fingers together, and Uriel vanished right before our eyes. Michael's gaze turned back to Mary.

"W-What did you do to John?" Mary stood her ground, only slightly frightened.

"John is fine," he announces.

"Who – What are you?" Mary rushes out, wanting to know the answer. A shushing sound came from Michael, as he raised his finger to his lips, and it made Mary be quiet. He reached out with the same hand, and touched her temple, and she went down like a weighted bag.

I couldn't help but stare at Michael, and he felt a pair of eyes upon him. Which made him turn his body, and lock eyes with me. I didn't see any change of emotion in his face, but he steps forward.

"Aradia," his voice was rough, but held that softness in his tone. A feeling washed over me, and urged me to my feet, our eyes never disconnected. He stepped closer, as I used pieces of the wall to balance me out, and allow me to stand. His eyes scanned my body, as if he was analyzing me. I managed to stand straight, and be inches apart from him. I should be feeling fear that he would smite me next week, but I didn't get anger from his face.

Without warning, he pushed his head forward, and placed his lips upon mine. The kiss was filled with passion, but at the same time he was gentle. Our lips moved in sync, and I felt my power return to me. It felt like a rush of adrenaline. I no longer felt the pain I had earlier, my wounds had stitched themselves back up. After a few seconds more, we parted our lips, and stared at one another.

"Your time will come," he spoke, but my eyes felt heavy, and I began to flutter them close. Next thing I know, I go limp in his hold, he was so gentle with me, and I fell under...

.........................

I slowly fluttered my eyes open, seeing the orange ceiling from before. My vision began to clear, as I noticed I was on the bed. I was back in my own time. The next thought I had was Sam. I quickly shot up, and twisted my gaze to the brothers, staring at me. My eyes locked onto Sam who was in full health.

"Sam," I said his name softly. "You're alive," I was thrilled, and swirled my legs around, and stood to my feet with no difficulty. I noticed Cas, laying on the other bed, unconscious, as he had to make the trip back alone, and with what little power he had.

"Thankfully," he states, as Dean began to pour the whiskey he must have bought into two cups for him and Sam.

"Well... This is it," Dean began, but I grabbed the bottle from him.

"This is what?" Sam questioned, as I brought the bottle to my lips, and drank the liquid.

"Team free will," Dean announces, as Sam takes a sip of the whiskey. "One ex-blood junkie, one Demon-Witch," he brought his gaze to meet mine. "One dropout with six bucks to his name, and Mister Comatose over there. It's awesome," Dean remarks, taking his eyes to that of Cas.

"It's not funny," Sam states, the air becoming more serious.

"I'm not laughing," Dean replied. Sam takes a deep breath, before he was going to speak, he was thinking.

"They all say we'll say yes,"

"I know it's getting annoying," Dean responded to Sam's statement. I took another swig of the whiskey.

"What if they're right?

"They're not," I added into the mix, as both brother's eyes met with mine.

"I mean, w-why – why would we, either of us? But..." Sam began to shake his head, knowing in the back of his mind, that deep down he will give in and say yes. "I've been weak before,"

"Sam,"

"Michael got Dad to say yes," Sam defended. Dean must have told him what had happened, and probably told him what happened between me and Michael.

"That was different. Anna was about to kill Mom," Dean tried to ease his brother, as that situation was different.

"And if you could save Mom. What would you say?" Sam let the comment linger in the air, Dean just silent. If they had a chance to save their Mother, I have no doubt in my mind they wouldn't hesitate.

"Be happy that you spent time with her, not everyone is so lucky," I shot at them, trying to keep my tone from being judgy, but it slipped through. "Sorry, I didn't mean that to be-"

"It's fine," Dean cuts me off. "I'm just glad you were on our side," words that I didn't think I would hear spill from Dean's mouth. I smiled softly at the thought, before taking one final swig of the whiskey, and handing it back over to Dean.

"Always a pleasure boys," I flourished my hand up, ready to leave the boys behind.

"Abigael," Dean's voice soared through my ears, making me stop what I was doing, dropping my hand back down to my side. "If I call you. Will you come help, if we need it?" Dean tried to play all cool and that.

"We shall see," a playful smirk danced across my lips, as black smoke flourished up my figure, and engulfed me within seconds. Sending me on my way...

Michael knew something, and wanted to keep it to himself, but I wasn't going to let that happen. I'm going to find the answers I need. Even if I have to summon him...

******************