~*****~

The basement is teaming with several people shouting and saying I left them to die. The door upstairs rattles, but it doesn't stop the endless chatter. My face is burning with scalding hot tears that seem to pour endlessly from my eyes. "Lottie--" Dean's voice bellows. I gaze upwards and stop the sob burning in my throat.

"Basement! Hurry!" I shout. My voice is choked and tight.

I can hear him stomping down the stairs. He halts at the bottom and gazes around, wide eyed. "Son of bitch--" He murmurs before swinging the tire iron at the spirits rushing towards him. When everything silences, I just gaze up at Dean, sniffling. "Come on, we got to get to Bobby's." He says firmly, and holds out his hand. I nod and grasp onto it before curling Mary closer.

"All those... those spirits. They're all... people I knew." I murmur softly.

"I know, baby." Dean says as he leads me to the Impala and helps me in.

Bobby is nose deep in books when I arrive and I move to help him. "So, they're all people we know?" Sam asks.

"Not just know. People we couldn't save." Dean says. "Hey, I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?"

"I don't think so." Sam shrugs.

"It was like a-a mark on her hand-- almost like a brand." Dean says.

I hum. "Yeah, the spirits that came for me had the same thing. Even..." My eyes start to burn again as I think about the little boy.

"I saw a mark on Henriksen, too." Sam nods.

"What'd it look like?" Bobby asks.

I grasp a pencil and toss it to Sam as he asks Bobby for paper. Sam draws it out and shows it to Dean. "That's it." Dean nods.

"I may have seen this before." Bobby nods. My grasp on Mary instinctively tightens as the radio switches on. "We got to move." Bobby says. "Follow me."

"Okay, where are we going?" I ask quickly.

Bobby just stares at me. "Someplace safe. You idjit."

I pout and grasp at a pile of books and curl it under my free arm. We follow him into his basement and towards the large iron door that looks vaguely familiar. The door creaks open. The familiarity hits me and I hurry towards it, bustling past the two Winchesters and towards the small bed to lay Mary down. Dean and Sam are starting to look like fish with how wide their mouths are open. "Bobby, is this--" Sam trails off.

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt." He says. "100% ghost proof."

"You built a panic room?" Sam asks.

Bobby shrugs. "Built one for Lottie, too." Bobby says.

I smack a kiss onto his cheek. "Bobby." Dean starts. The old, gruff man gazes at Dean skeptically. "You're awesome."

"You boys get started on the guns. Bobby and I will handle the books." I explain softly.

~*****~

It's silent for a long time-- save for the occasional infant noises. But other than that, no one speaks. "See, this is why I can't get behind God." Dean says out of the blue.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks as I glance up from my book.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is." Dean shrugs. "There's no rhyme or reason-- just random, horrible evil-- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?"

Sam glances at Bobby and I. I just shake my head. "Don't you dare look at me, Samuel." I retort firmly. "I ain't touching this one with a ten-foot pole." Dean just snorts before turning around and sauntering over to the baby. "I found it, by the way." Sam glances up expectantly while Dean curls Mary onto his shoulder. "The symbol we saw-- the brand on the ghosts. It's the Mark of the Witness."

"Witness?" Sam asks. "Witness to what?"

"The unnatural." I sigh. "None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts-- they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them... on purpose."

"Who?" Sam asks.

Bobby grunted. "Don't you think we'd share that tidbit if we had an inkling?" Bobby asks irritably. "But whoever it was, used a spell so powerful, it left a mark, a brand on their souls."

"Whoever did this, had big plans." I sigh. "It's called the rising of the witnesses. It figures into an ancient prophecy."

"Wait, wait," Dean stopped me. "What book is that prophecy from?"

"Well, the widely distributed version, just for tourists, you know," I shrug. "But uh, long story short-- Revelations. This is a sign, guys."

"A sign of what?" Sam and Dean echo.

Bobby and I share a nervous glance. "The Apocalypse." Bobby recites.

"The Apocalypse?" Dean echoes. We nod. "As in Apocalypse Apocalypse? The Four Horsemen, Pestilence, Five dollar a gallon gas, Apocalypse?"

"That's the one." Bobby nods. "The rise of the witness is a mile marker."

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam asks.

Dean snorts. "Road trip. You know, Grand Canyon, Star Trek experience. We could take Mary to Disney world. Huh? You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He asks the infant.

"Dean. She's two months." I retort irritably. "Besides, I think we should survive our friends out there."

"Great." Dean sighs. "Any ideas aside from staying in this room until judgement day?"

"It's a spell," Bobby says as he taps at the book. "To send the witnesses back to rest. Should work...."

"Should," Sam snorts. "Great."

"If I translate it correctly." Bobby adds. "I think I got everything we need right here at the house."

"Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asks.

I snort. "When have we ever been that lucky?" I ask. "Besides, the spell's gotta be cast over an open fire."

Sam huffs. "The fireplace in the library."

"Bingo." Bobby nods.

"That's just not as appealing as a ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Dean says.

Sam and I exchange exhausted looks.

~*****~

"Cover each other, and aim carefully." I say softly as the men get ready to leave. "Don't run out of ammo until Bobby is finished, or they'll shred you."

"Ready?" Bobby asks as he puts his hand on the door. He pries it open carefully, and the three step out. "Lock this up tight. Don't come out until I call for you, all right?"

I nod and tug the door shut behind them. The handle slides in place with a heavy thump, and I'm encased in silence. I can hear the gunshots ring out from upstairs. Mary shifts in the bed, soft whimpers echoing out from the constant sounds, but otherwise, remained calm.

Heavy knocking echoed out against the metal door, and I wait with bated breath until I hear Bobby's voice. "It's done." He says loudly. "You can come up now."

I bundle Mary up and open the door, gazing at the exhausted man with a relieved smile. "Thanks, Bobby." I mutter softly. Sam and Dean are exhausted in the library. I curl into Dean's arms, sighing heavily against him. "Should I set up the guest room, Bobby?"

"Oh, no-- we'll stay here, in the library." Sam huffed. 

Dean chuckled out a soft wheeze. "Yeah, I really don't want to go upstairs." I chuckle at him before handing over our daughter and running up the stairs for pillows and blankets.

When I get them both settled, they fall asleep easily. Mary nurses as I watch them, shot gun lain across the kitchen table as I sit in silence.

My gaze snaps up as that strange fluttering noise echoed out, and Castiel is leaning against the counter top, gazing at Dean. "What are you doing here?" I ask softly, mindful of the two in the library-- well, now one. Dean crosses the threshold after he wakes from the noise, his wary gaze pinned on Castiel.

"Excellent job with the witnesses." Castiel hums as he keeps his gaze on Dean.

"You were hip to all this?" Dean asks irritably.

Castiel glanced at me. "I was made aware when they came for Carlotta." He explains.

"Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance." Dean snorts. "You know I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest. My kid could've been hurt."

Castiel shrugged. "But neither of you did."

"I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos-- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks." Dean snaps lowly.

"Read the bible." Castiel suggests plainly. "Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

"Yeah?" Dean scoffs. "Then why didn't you fight?"

Castiel just stares at Dean. "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns."

"Concerns?" Dean snaps. "There were people getting torn to shreds down here. And by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?"

"There's a God." Castiel simply says.

"I'm not convinced." Dean retorts. "'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the Earth? The Freaking Apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?"

"The lord works--"

"If you say 'Mysterious Ways', so help me, I will kick your ass." Dean growls. Castiel throws his hands up in mild irritation. "So, Lottie was right.... About the witnesses. This is some kind of a... sign of the apocalypse."

"That's why we're here. Big things afoot." Castiel sighs.

I groan quietly. "Do we even want to know what kind of things?" I ask as I stand up slowly.

Castiel shrugs. "I sincerely doubt it, but you two need to know. The rising of the Witnesses is one of the sixty-six seals."

"Okay, I'm guessing that's not a show at SeaWorld." Dean comments. I give him a sharp look that shuts him up.

"Those seals are being broken by Lilith." Castiel explains.

My brows furrow. "She did the spell, then." I hum softly. "She rose the witnesses."

Castiel hums softly. "And not just here. Twenty other hunters are dead."

"Of course." Dean growls. "She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us."

"Lilith has a certain sense of humor." Castiel mentions.

"Well, we put those spirits back to rest." Dean says.

Castiel shrugs. "It doesn't matter. The seal was broken."

"Why break the seal anyway?" Dean asks.

"You think of the seals as locks on a door," Castiel sighs.

"Okay, last one opens, and..." Dean trails off.

Castiel gazes at me, and there's a certain kind of look in them. I couldn't pinpoint it exactly. But when he answers, and I can figure out why. "Lucifer walks free."

My legs tremble and I grasp onto Dean. "Lucifer?" I ask in a trembly tone. "But... I thought... Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday School. There's no such thing-- there can't be."

"Three days ago, you two thought there was no such thing as me." Castiel reminds us. "Why do you think we're here walking among you now, for the first time in two thousand years?"

"To stop Lucifer." Dean murmurs.

"That's why we've arrived." Castiel nods.

"Well... Bang up job so far." Dean comments. "Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice."

"We tried." Castiel retorted. "And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one, we lost." When we don't reply, Castiel moves in front of us, his gaze suddenly harder. "Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. And I can throw you back in."

I surge towards Castiel. "Back. Off." I say in a low tone. Castiel doesn't move as I get in his face. He nods after a moment and disappears from sight. I grasp at Dean's hand. "Get to sleep." I urge quietly, and help him lay down in the library. He doesn't say anything.

The next morning, I sit in the kitchen again, eating silently as Sam grabs his morning coffee. "Mary finally asleep?" Sam asks softly. I give him a nod and gesture to the library, where a makeshift crib sits near Dean. He snorts and gazes over to it. "You alright? You look exhausted."

"I am. She's fussy. It's like I didn't spend two months glued to her. She prefers to sleep near Dean, now." I mutter irritably. "Save some coffee for him, by the way. I made enough for like, eight people. Stop sucking it down."

Sam chuckles and finishes his cup and sets it in the sink. "You alright?" He asks as Dean sits up. Dean doesn't answer for a minute, and I peer over at him. "What's wrong, Dean?"

"So... you got no problem believing in..." Dean trails off. "God and angels?"

"No, not really." Sam retorts. I set my plate into the sink and grab a mug for Dean. With coffee in hand, I pad back to the library.

"So, I guess that means that you believe in the devil." Dean states.

The thought burns at my stomach. "Why are you asking me all this?" Sam asks. I swallow through the knot in my throat as Dean explains what Castiel had told us.