My Big Fat Supernatural Wedding

Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't blame me for the ending








"From the man's embrace they lead off the wife, from the man's knee they make the child get up, and the youth they fetch out of the house of his in-laws, they are the numbness, the daze, that tread on the heels of man."

--Thorkild Jacobsen, The Treasures of Darkness: A History of Mesopotamian Religion, p.12

Part III

It took a lot of convincing on Dean's part to get Miranda to agree that going back to the motel with them was better than getting on the road. Only Sam knew that if she believed that she could have escaped Flat River with no problems nothing either of them said would have meant a damn. Keeping Gabriel safe was more important to her than saving the people who would have done nothing when her in-laws tried to steal her child away and possibly kill her in the process.

From the little he could tell about her, Sam liked. He knew that Dean was attracted to her and determined to do nothing about it. It was nice to see his brother flustered around a woman instead of his usual cocky confidence. Gabriel kept staring up at him as if he couldn't decide if this new male presence in his life was friend or foe. Sam figured Dean was feeling about the same.

The four of them were cramped into the motel room, Gabriel on Dean's bed lying on his stomach coloring and humming some unfamiliar song under his breath. Miranda was putting away the remainder of the food that hadn't been demolished by the four of them. While Dean stood in the window with the blinds closed keeping an eye on the street stretched out ahead of them.

Unless Sullivan came at them through the thick brush behind the hotel, they had a clear view of anything heading in their direction.

Finished, Miranda sat down across from him, sparing a quick look at her son. Probably to make sure he wasn't listening. That bruise on her face was turning colors, would be a nasty shade of purple by tomorrow this time and her nose looked like if it wasn't broken it was damned close. Before leaving the house, he had watched her down five Ibruprofen dry and he had to wonder how many times she had done that and if it contributed to the end of her marriage.

"So," she finally spoke, voice soft enough so that it wouldn't draw Gabriel's attention, "I'm here, I'm listening. What the hell is a succubus and why do you think it's after me and my son?"

Sam closed the window on the laptop he was working in, glanced up at Dean who gestured for him to tell it. "It's a female demon, takes on the appearance of a human woman so that it can seduce men, have sex with them and steal their," he paused and looked at Gabriel who was still absorbed in his coloring his picture, "Steals their semen."

The choked expression on Miranda's face clearly said she hadn't been expecting that. "There's a lot of myth and legend about succubi," Dean started catchiing her attention, "Some thought they were the sexual equivalent of vampires, some thought they were goddesses. What it all boils down to is that they're demon sexual predators."

"Like rapists?"

"Yes and no," Sam shook his head, "The victim has to be willing, or else," he trailed off and Dean finished for him in his own colorful fashion.

"No juice, so to speak." At the flush of heat across Miranda's face, he glanced back out the window and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

There was a long moment of silence until Sam cleared his throat, "There are two kinds of these demons, succubi and incubi, female and male. Some can actually be the same, able to change form at will to prey on humans."

"But what's the point," Miranda shook her head, "There has to be some point to it."

"No there doesn't," Dean answered quickly, "Evil doesn't have to have a plan all the time."

"So, you think Delilah is a succubus?"

"It fits," Sam nodded, "The men and the murders, the fear everyone in this town seems to carry around."

"Succbi are vicious little demons, damned near impossible to kill. After they get what they came for, they rip their victims apart." Dean explained.

"That's what was done to Darnell," Miranda shuddered with revulsion.

"My best guess," Sam took a deep breath, "This Delilah woman and John Henry Sullivan have some compact between them. Might include most of prominent families in town. Probably goes back several generations. Meanwhile, Sullivan let's her use Flat River as her personal little playground. He covers up the murders, keeps the good town folk in line, makes sure no attention is drawn."

"Fucking small towns," he heard Dean mutter under his breath.

"If she's one that can switch hit, I'm guessing that," Sam stopped and realized this might be something she didn't want to know.

"What?"

"It's nothing," he shrugged it off and went back to his laptop. He saw Dean look at him and frown and knew his brother had figured out what he was thinking.

"It is something, so tell me!"

"Let it go Miranda," Dean warned softly, resigned, because even as he said the words they both knew that she wouldn't and she jumped up from her chair and went to him.

"You wanted me to come here, to trust the two of you and now you think you're going to hold out on me? How is that right? Tell me why I shouldn't just grab my son and get on the road right now, since you're not willing to tell me everything?"

"Because she would find you," Sam said.

"Sammy no."

"She has a right to know," he said in a grudging voice. "I was walking through town today, couldn't help notice the lack of children."

Confusion cleared some of the anger away, "I guess," she muttered quickly, "What does that have to do," she trailed off and looked over at Gabriel. The tormented that entered her eyes completely cracked the deceptive composure she had maintained. "No."

"When I had the vision, I saw the demon kill you, and take Gabriel. It doesn't want to hurt Gabriel, Miranda, it just wants you out of the way."

"Why? You say it out loud, I want to hear you tell me why?"

"If Delilah can take both female and male form, she can be creating Cambion. Children, half human, half demon. And the way the Sullivans reacted when you threatened to take Gabriel away-"

"No!" she panicked, stumbling backward but Dean caught her before she could fall over the chair behind her, "That's a lie! Gabriel is my son! Mine! I carried him. I gave birth to him!"

"Miranda, calm down," Dean said softly.

"Don't you tell me to calm down, when you're standing there calling my child," Dean silenced the words by clapping his hand over her mouth which brought the instant reaction of her struggling against him.

"Your son is right there," Dean leaned down close to her face and whispered, "Do you want him to see his mother upset?" He waited until she stopped, momentairly rebuffed, then she shook her head. He lifted a brow then slowly removed his hand from her face.

"You told me that you didn't quite understand why you married Darnell, I'm guessing Delilah had something to do with that. Demon's have all kinds of mojo at their disposal. Succubi are greedy little predators, but they aren't stupid. No men in town mean no sex and that is what a succubi exists for. Sex and death."

"I heard Eleanor Sullivan say that all her children were gone, and John Henry is old. Delilah would need someone to carry on the compact, keep her ready pool of available men." Sam spoke up, hating that beweildered expression on her face. Those dark eyes that had been so alive with passion seemed haunted now. "It would explain why no one would allow you to leave."

"It's impossible," she lowered her gaze in denial, but the truth was there in the way her shoulders slumped over.

"It wouldn't be impossible if she could change forms, for her to make her self look like Darnell, take the seed she stole from one of her male victims and impregnate you with it." Dean said starkly and Sam felt his stomach clench.

"What better way to ensure the next generational compact if not with her own Cambion?"

"And you think that my Gabriel," she whispered, and they all glanced over at the innocent boy laying on the bed humming and coloring. "That he's?"

"He's your son," Dean cut her off, his voice insistent, "Don't you ever think otherwise."

"But," her eyes had filled with tears, welled, then spilled in fat drops down her cheeks.

"Let me tell you something," Dean's voice was husky with emotion, and he checked the grip he had on Miranda's arms, rubbing his hands gently over her shoulders, "A few months ago, someone told me that my brother was going to do something bad, that he was going to side with the Demon that killed our mother and do some pretty evil shit. But that's ridiculous, and that's what I told them."

It felt a little weird to here his brother speak of him that way, because Sam knew how hard he had fought on that path before they destroyed the Demon. He knew how hard Dean fought to protect him. If he was sane and human and good, it was because Dean was there watching his back. Protecting him.

"Sammy isn't evil, doesn't have it in him. Our mother made sure of that, she was the kindest, purest soul that I've ever known. She died trying to protect Sammy and the Demon that killed her, knew that the only way he had a chance at Sam was to take her out first."

"But it isn't the same," she murmured.

"Not quite, but let me tell you what I see," Dean tilted his head toward Gabriel, "I see a little boy who is growing up with a great Mom. A mother that is willing to do whatever needs to be done to protect him. Just like our mother. A mother's love is a strong thing Miranda. Sacred. Damned near invincible. It's why Delilah tried to take him from you at the christening, it's why she's trying to take him now."

She seemed to be weighing his words, glanced over at her son, her face naked with the kind of love that could only be between mother and child. It glowed warm, and Sam could see that layer of steel that both he and his brother admired in her stiffen. Her face filled with a steadfast courage and determination that he felt honored to witness.

"So what do we do to stop it?"

"Well, that's the problem," Sam rubbed a frustrated hand over his forehead. "Succubi are damned hard to kill."

"But not impossible," Dean cut in.

"No, not impossible. It's only at it's most vulnerable in it's truest form."

"Big, tall and ugly as hell, but not impossible to kill." Dean snorted after that bit of sarcasm.

"And it only takes it's true form when it leaves this plane of reality and returns to it's own."

"Which means we have to catch it either before it kills it's next victim, or piss it off enough so that it wants to kill us."

"Either way, we need a plan and both of those suck."

"Need a damned cannon is what we need," Dean pointed out.

Miranda chuckled softly drawing both of their attention back to her. "I don't understand, why do the two of you do this? You know next to nothing about me and you're willing to risk your lives to help me. Why?"

"It's the right thing to do," Sam answered, familiar with this question.

"And the fact that I'm hoping for a date afterwards, is always a plus," his brother smirked making her blush again.

"Shut up, idiot."





Miranda watched as Dean looked through the trunk of the black Impala, tried not to goggle at the array of weapons there. Failed miserably of course, because all of this was so far beyond her experience, she would have floundered miserably if she hadn't already known that something evil had this town in it's grip.

The sun was going down and part of her still wanted to gather up her son and run as fast as she could. If she didn't believe that her best chance was with these two men, she would have. It wasn't that she didn't believe, it was just the opposite, she knew some self defense stuff from back when she lived in Maine, but fighting on the scale these two were hinting at was incomprehensible.

Dean and Sam had given her a lot to think on, including the fact that just might have been raped by demon wearing her husband's face. It didn't change how she felt about her child. Gabriel was her life, from the moment she realized he grew under her heart. And no demon was going to steal her son away to groom to help continue its terror on Flat River.

"So how did you and Sam start doing this, hunting demons I mean?"

Dean straightened, a sawed-off shot gun in one hand clenched along with a nasty looking axe, and slammed the trunk closed, "Demon killed our mother. Sam was a baby, few months old. I was a toddler. Our father took us on the run. Searching for it, determined to kill it. He trained us, taught us what we needed to know to hunt. It's all I know." He shrugged as if he had just told her that he was as simple as taking up the family business. Only it involved killing things that most people didnt' believe in.

"Did you kill it, the Demon that killed your mother, I mean?"

He was silent for a long time, turned to stare into the horizon the sun a warm orange glow on his face. Dean raised his free hand and ran it along the thick scar healing around his neck, "Yeah," he said after a while, "It's dead."

"Where's your father? He still hunting like you and Sam?"

"No," he pursed his lips and swallowed, "Demon got him. Died saving my life."

She could tell that knowledge hurt him, and finally felt like she could offer him something after everything that he and his brother were doing for her and Gabriel. "That's what parents do," she placed a hand on his arm and he glanced down at her, those intense eyes made her heart wobble in her chest. "Your father loved you, just like I love Gabriel. I'd step in front of hell itself for my son. That's what parents do."

He nodded once, "Yeah." But she could tell that he still didn't like it. She lifted a hand and placed it against his cheek, felt a lurch of excitement at the steady gaze that bore down into hers. Dean looked at her as if he were photographing her, commiting her to memory but not exactly sure he wanted to.

That dating comment he made she hadn't taken seriously though she would have happily agreed. "We," she cleared her throat at the husky tremor that was her voice, "We should get back inside."

"See if Sam came up with something other than us pissing off a demon," he drawled but when he turned she felt him stiffen and grab her arm. "Son of a bitch."

"Not quite," she heard a feminine voice speak up just seconds before his grip was torn away and he went flying backwards crashing into the concrete of the empty parking lot.

"How?" Miranda began backing away, mind floundering as fear and anger knotted equally in her stomach. Out of no where stood the very thing she was determined to protect her son from. She looked exactly as she remembered. A model of femininity, sex and lust, in a white halter styled dress that looked sickeningly like a wedding gown.

"How did you?" A quick nervous glance at Dean, showed his unconscious form laying on the ground several feet away.

A smile curved her full lips, but even that didn't conceal that malveolence that teemed beneath the surface of that enchanting face. "We both know that if a woman needs a job done, it's best done herself. Leave it to a man and everything gets fucked over."

"You're not a woman, and no matter how many men you have sex with it won't change that fact." Miranda sneered and that must have pissed her off because a cold gleam filled those blue eyes, heating red with demonic contempt.

"I should have killed you a long time ago," that voice was layers of rage and hatred. "But I can fix that tonight," then Delilah smiled again and nodded toward Dean. "He's a good looking one, maybe I'll celebrate with him afterwards." Her laughter had a bitter scornful edge, "Oh, I saw the way you were looking at him. Standing there practically creaming your panties. Big strong man, gorgeous face and those hands."

A shiver seemed to rush through Delilah's body and Miranda shuddered in revulsion at the thought of this thing possibly touching her. Touching Dean. "I'm sure his blood runs hot," the demon's voice darkened, "It'll spill all over my skin as he screams. I'll fuck him hard and milk him dry. The final death, the perfect death."

"You disgusting bitch," its words brought bitter gall to her throat.

"He'll be even better than Darnell," Delilah flung out, "He was weak, useless. Less than useless. But him, oh he'll give me a ride. Must have Sullivan bring him into the compact, but I have the time. I'll even let you watch."

"How did you get him to help you?"

"The usual way. Greed." She sighed, rolling her eyes with mock sympathy, "Many, many years ago, a young Thomas Sullivan wanted money, power and a young girl named Merry who was engaged to his best friend Peter. It's amazing the things humans will do to each other." She lifted a hand, "We struck a bargain, I get rid of Peter, give him all the wealth and power he wanted and he helped me. Here we are almost a hundred years later with John Henry following in Thomas' footsteps."

Hands, strong and vicious grabbed her arms and jerked her so close she could feel Delilah's warm breath fan her face. "And there's my boy now. My Gabriel." Miranda turned in horror to see Earl, Andrew, Cody Walker whose family owned the Shop and Save, Lenny Townsend who owned the Roadhouse and John Henry coming down the motel stairs. Earl and Andrew carried an limp and seeming unconscious Sam along while John Henry had Gabriel by the hand.

"You stay the hell away from my son!"

"My son," Delilah smiled brightly, "You were just the egg and the womb. That's my Cambion."

"My son!" she screamed, looking around desperately and knowing that no one was going to come to their aid. "John Henry don't do this," she pleaded as they grew closer, the blank dazed expression in Gabriel's eyes choked her with despair. She gulped hard, hot blinding tears slipping down her cheeks, as she struggled against the hands restraining her. "He's just a little boy, don't do this."

"Bring the other," Delilah demanded and Miranda watched Lenny and Cody cross to Dean and lift him by the arms. Her mouth twitched with amusement and she released a sharp bark of laughter. "I always did enjoy a good shotgun wedding."




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




“If there’s anyone here who objects to these two people being joined together, let him speak now or forever hold his peace?”


Sam Winchester adjusted the dark blue tie that felt like it was gradually choking the life from his body and tried not to throw both his hands in the air and object to the top of his lungs. Sweat trailed down the back of his white shirt, soaking through and sticking to his skin. The stifling air in the little church was scent with things he would prefer not to know the answer to. Unfortunately, in his life, preferring not to recognize something, didn’t necessarily preclude lack of knowledge.

Blood. Death.

It was just a regular Winchester hunt.

How had things grew to such disastrous proportions in a matter of hours?

He looked over at his brother who kneeled at the alter with the blond bombshell and knew he couldn't do a damned thing at the moment to stop this from happening. Dean was barely conscious, his face torn and bloody, hands tied behind his back. They both had been forced to dress for this macrabre ceremony. Miranda lay on the floor unconscious next to him still in her jeans and henley and Gabriel stood pale and silent next to John Henry Sullivan face blank with terror.

Gabriel hadn't said a word since that one scream back in the motel room when he had been forced to watch the four goons beat him unconscious. Simply moved when bidded and was as pale as a ghost.

They had underestimated this small town of horrors. A mistake he vowed he would never make again. If they managed to live through this.

"Do you Dean Winchester take Delilah as your wife?"

The demon grabbed a hand full of his hair and pulled until they faced each other. "Answer the nice man Dean, Delilah Winchester has a nice sound to it don't you think?" She smiled sweetly and nausea began to swim in Sam's stomach. He had been forced to watch Dean take a beating, two hours they worked him over, all the while Dean had glared at him with those hard eyes stilling his hand. If they were going to take down this demon, they had to play all of their cards close to the chest.

The next snort of laughter Sam had expected. "Not today, not tomorrow and you can kiss my ass."

Something horrible flashed red in her usually blue eyes as the edges of that smile turned cruel. A fist caught Dean in the face, sending him flying away from the alter, crashing into pews behind him. Delilah stood in her white gown and practically floated over to Dean, as if she were all innocence and light. Showing a strength that belied her stature, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked Dean into the air, feet dangling several inches off the ground.

"It isn't nice to use profanity in front of children."

Dean's head rolled back dangerously, then he managed to open his eyes to sneer down at her, "Bitch, you are a profanity and I'm so going to enjoy kicking your ass."

She looked like she wanted to hit him again, but halted at the last second and dragged him back to the alter, dumping him unceremoniously onto his knees. "Finish it," she growled, a layer of menace echoing through her voice, revealing a bit of the evil that lay beneath the attractive surface.

"By the power invested in me-"

"Sammy."

"I now pronouce you-"

"Now would be a good time man!"

"Man and," before John Henry could finish the sentence, Sam had already sent forth a wave of psychic energy tossing the man back into the wall behind him. Sam tried not to gringe at the snap of bone as the man's limp body slid to the floor.

A howl of fury echoed through the empty church, stained glass windows shattered, wind built around them like painful lashes of thousands of whips. Sam watched Gabriel's eyes roll back into his head and Dean moved. Having finally managed to cut through the rope that tied his wrists together, he clutched the little boy to his chest to shield him with his body. Despite the force of the wind, they managed to roll away from the alter.

Earl and Andrew gawked in shock, the guns in their hands forgotten. Andrew, who stood over Miranda came to his senses first and tried to run away. Only to be caught in the sweep of wind and sent flying through the air to crash into a wall.

Earl looked on as his brother's crumpled body hit the floor. His mouth moved, but no sound came forth, and he took a step toward Andrew only to go sailing back through the wooden pews the heavy wood snapping like tinder under the momentum of his body. The noise must have reached Miranda because she finally stirred, lifted her head from the floor, dark hair blowing around her face.

"YOU!"

Sam took a deep breath, watching in amazement as the demon killed the very people she used to do her bidding. The long blonde hair that once shone like the sun was now an ashen white, flapping around in the breeze. Delilah turned to face him, her beauty now tarnished by wizened flesh that seem to melt from her bones, deep sunken eyes and a mouth open to reveal a set of canines that looked like she could snap a man's neck in two. Knarled hands curled long claws in fury as her eyes glowed red with malevolence.

Compared to the Demon they fought and destroyed this one was still child's play.

"I'm going to rip off your head and piss in your skull," she growled nastily advancing on him.

"Sounds really fascinating." he nodded blandly only infuriating her more. If this was going to work, she needed to drop the illusions and show her true self. He only hoped they weren't killed before she did it.

"You dare to speak to me that way," her voice built in volume, combining with the winds whirling through the church, booming like a cannon. "I who am Nahemah, keeper of the Door between this realm and An, of-"

"Blah, blah," the ridicule came over the din from Dean who stood to the left. Gabriel was shielded behind him and his brother was blocking his face against flying debris. "You just don't know when to shut up do you? Don't you hate it when they never shut up?"

"Gabriel!" Miranda screamed finally getting to her knees. "You get the hell away from my son!"

The high piercing shriek had them all covering their ears in agony, as the demon tilted back her head and wailed loud enough to shake the very foundation of the building. "My Cambion, pathetic human!"

"Is that why you have to have sex and kill men? Is that why you needed MY WOMB! MY EGG!" Miranda struggled to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. Small, frail looking, barely withstading the force of the wind. A trail of blood ran down the side of her face from where Earl had knocked her unconscious, the bruises on her face stood out but she looked every inch a warrior. "My son, bitch! MINE! You pathetic demon!"

Something happened then, the very air thickened, and Sam had barely a moment to feel the shimmer of evil shift before Dean yelled, "Get ready Sam!"

Delilah's form seemed to fall away, a whisper of change, like thick choking smoke and in the once human looking wake rose something monstrous.



"Oh, shit."

Dean watched the demon finally retake it's true form, he expected big, ugly and that's exactly was began to straighten before them. It seemed those vampire rumors weren't without some relevance because what stood on bent hind legs and began expanding huge curling wings bent with talons at the edge looked like some hideous verson of a bat.

Those fangs from before now looked capable of cleaving a man in half easily.

He watched Sam jerk in shock, his mouth gaping wide as the demon stomped one foot splitting the floor in half as if a quake had ripped through the earth. "Sammy wake up man!"

But from behind him, a low groaning noise began. Dean lifted Gabriel into his arms, clutching him tight against his chest as it felt like the church was about to tear itself apart. The demon had even stopped that hideous cawing sound to turn in the direction of the sounds. The ceiling of the church looked like it had come to life. Beams and wood creaked as it began to swell almost like a human chest drawing in a huge breaths. In and out it pulsed, and Dean staggered backward, placing a protective hand on the boy's head.

The groan turned into a snarl and in one swift motion the roof was gone, disintergrating into the night as if someone had set off a bomb. What was left was a blur of whirlwinds, and when the demon screamed again, Dean heard fear in it's roar.

It tried to take a step back, escape it's obvious intent, only something seemed to take the demon in it's grasp in begin dragging it toward the now gaping hole in the roof. It's talons dragged rough grooves into the floor, wings flapping uselessly as it struggled to no avail.

As it passed him, he heard Miranda scream a second before Gabriel was ripped from his arms and he was sent flying back through the air. Dean hit the floor rolling quickly back to his feet, running, boots digging, arms pumping, only to watch helplessly as the demon and the silent boy disappear through some invisible doorway.




The abrupt silence of the church seemed awkward, as disbelief gripped his chest and squeezed so hard he could barely stand. "Sam?" he finally managed, hot tears of misery filling his eyes then his heart crumbled in his chest.

"Gabriel!"

That broken wail echoed through the quiet. Miranda rushed forward and he was forced to reach out and grab her, pull her into his body. She fought him, scratched and clawed, kicked and screamed, her dark eyes wild and hysterical as she demanded he let her go.

"No." his voice trembled with pain and turned her into him. Her arms flailed, slapping him in the face, the chest.

"Let me go, let me go, I have to get him."

"He's gone," his eyes fluttered shut on a wave of pain.

"No that's a lie! THat's a lie! He's not, he's not gone!"

"I'm sorry," he groaned, "I'm sorry. He's gone." A violent shudder went through her body even as she continued to fight him, dragged him to the floor until they kneeled together, her fury bursting into raw tears of grief. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He rocked her back and forth, feeling her hands clench at his back.


"DEAN!"

Sam's shout, jerked them out of that anguish, as they both watched a soft white glow begin to surround Sam. Miranda gasped, blinking past the tears as Sam began to hover off the floor.





"Okay, let me get this straight, that was one of your visions?"

Sam looked at Dean and Miranda who looked like two war torn survivors. One moment it felt like the world was falling apart, swept up in an agonizing maelstrom of loss. Gabriel's loss. Then he had been hit with something and he still couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"I don't know," he replied, confusion thick in his voice.

"You don't know," Dean was pacing the empty church, his face wild with rage and guilt. He knew Dean was holding himself responsible for losing Gabriel. "What do you know then Sammy? And since when did you start glowing and floating when you get a vision?"

Miranda moaned low in her throat, her arms wrapped around herself in self comfort.

"Just listen, okay," Sam, held out his hands in entreaty, "I saw, I saw Gabriel."

"What!"

But it wasn't Dean's shout that he turned to, but the bereft and desolate eyes of his mother. "We can get him back."

"How?" her whisper was so painful that he was almost afraid to speak in case he was wrong and they disappointed her again.

"Whatever pulled that demon out of here," he shook his head, trying to sift through the images that had flashed through his head so quickly. "It's going to come back. Remember what Delilah said keeper of the door between this realm and An."

"So you're saying that was a door."

"And where a door was closed," Sam nodded quickly.

"It can open again." Dean paused, "When, when is it happening?" He could already see the vengence in his his brother's eyes.

"Soon, but not here and whatever is coming out isn't going to be friendly. But I saw Gabriel," he paused because he wasn't quite certain. The boy had certainly felt like Gabriel but he hadn't looked like Gabriel. "He was with another boy and they're coming through together."

"When?" Miranda asked, this time her voice a little stronger.

"Felt like a week and it's up east, I know that much."

"Then we need to get on the road now." Now that Dean had a goal to fight for he was ready to move.

"I'm coming," Miranda stood, shaky on her feet and Dean automatically grabbed her arms. She went into his embrace, looked into his eyes. Something passed between them and Sam figured they would need it when the time came. "I'm coming with you and you're going to teach me how to fight these things so I'm not just standing there helpless again."

Dean nodded once in agreement. "Let's get going Sam."

Sam watched them walk toward the door and the sourness in the pit of his stomach which burned of their failure was soothed a bit by the way Dean and Miranda held each other. The strength in both of them. There was still much he had to tell them about the visions. The voices in his head, the people he had seen and the wicked sensation that something horrible was going to step through that door along with Gabriel.

Until then, it was going to be a long hard ride to Port Charles, New York.



.....to be continued.