Song Remains the Same

Chapter 25: Meet the Parents

"Happy families are all alike; but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."
- Leo Tolstoy

The instant the door closed behind Alex, a rush of fear came over Cas. He struggled again to sit up, needing to be functional again and now. But it was the same as before—the vessel refused to move. He let out the softest growl of frustration. He was completely inept... and Alex was out there alone.

Cas had considered commanding her not to go after them, not yet, and not alone—and he would have done exactly so in the past. But now he knew Alex well enough to recognize when she had made up her mind. So, he'd done the only thing left to do: sent with her with his blade. It was small hope of defending herself against Anna, but it was better than nothing.

Castiel thought again of her reverence as she took his blade—like she'd almost understood the significance. Angels didn't give away their blades. Ever. Nor did they loan them out. Each angel received one and forfeited it only upon death. Each blade was sacred and connected to the angel, and the angel to the blade. To give a blade away was an abomination. Castiel knew if Heaven could see him now the Host would be shocked about how many rules he had broken in favor of helping the Winchesters. In favor of protecting her.

Cas struggled painstakingly, pulling his legs over the edge of the bed as he refused to just lie there. The reality of the risk to Alex's life was pressing on him relentlessly. After all, Anna might have already killed Sam and Dean. Meaning that Cas had just perhaps let Alex walk directly into a trap. He had placed them all in mortal jeopardy with his choice to listen to Dean's wishes. He cursed himself. In all his centuries he had never experienced such a sensation of utter uselessness. Refusing to accept his weakened state, he groaned in pain, pushing himself up with all his strength. He fell onto all fours, shaking from exertion.

2010

Dean stumbled, almost falling sideways—jolted by suddenly being sent back to the present-day.

With a quick glance around, he saw that he was in the motel room they'd been in before when they'd left for 1978. He struggled to comprehend: a minute ago, Anna had killed Sam...!

"Dean," came a familiar voice. Turning in dumbfounded shock, Dean saw Sam, who appeared just as confused as Dean was. Overwhelmed with relief, Dean grabbed his brother and hugged him tightly. Sam didn't really hug back, he seemed disoriented, and when Dean let go, Sam looked around the motel room in a daze. "What happened? I was—we were in seventy-eight and—Anna—she stabbed me and... I remember..." His look of confusion transformed into realization. "Did I die?"

"Yeah, you did. Anna killed you."

"Explain."

Dean thought it over. It was a jumble in his mind, too—the entire thing. "Okay, so Anna stabs you... you fall over dead in front of me... then Michael shows up, ganks Anna—"

Sam looked like he'd misheard. "Michael?"

Dean glanced at Sam broodingly. "He was using Dad as his meatsuit. Great, right?"

Sam's look of sheer disbelief summed up Dean's feelings on the whole ordeal. Smirking humorlessly, Dean began to pace back and forth. "Yeah, I know. He said all this BS about the bloodline, how Dad was a vessel and not the vessel, how free will is an illusion... I'm destined to say 'yes'... blah blah blah. Then he fixed you and sent us back." Dean stopped mid-step, realizing something. His stomach dropped and his heart clenched. He suddenly couldn't breathe. "Shit. Crap!" He looked at Sam in horror, then around the empty motel room, whirling in a frenzied search.