I'll Tell You My Sins so You Can Sharpen Your Knife
Love is all fun and games until someone loses an eye or gets pregnant
Sarah paced outside her bathroom. Nerves rattled her stomach. She wanted to smoke but in light of the situation, it was probably best not to. She checked her watch again.
This was stupid. She didn’t know how this was possible. She had been so careful. An act of fate, then. But since the script was gone, an act of God. God sure had a twisted sense of humor.
This was the last thing she wanted.
She checked her watch again, took a deep breath, and re-entered the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub and looked at the small white plastic stick. Tears pushed behind her eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or distress.
In her pocket, her phone rang. Wiping her eyes, Sarah pulled out the phone and answered it. “Hello?”
“Sarah?” Castiel asked urgently. “Are you okay?”
She sniffled. “What? I mean, I think so. I don’t know right now. What do you mean?”
“I felt your pain.” He said. “I thought you heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Dean’s dead.”
All the breath was knocked out of Sarah as she dropped the phone. She had been through this once before, but now it was just so much worse. Dean was dead again. And something told her it was worse than before. She felt sick.
“Sarah? Sarah?”
Sarah held her face in her hands. Why did this have to happen again? Why now?
“Sarah, pick up the phone. You need to listen to me.”
Robotically, she picked up the phone.
“Sarah, there’s a chance that the Mark of Cain affected him.” Castiel said. “You have to go to Sam now.”
Sarah swallowed heavily. “I can’t.”
“Sarah, you have to go now. I can’t go. I’m too far away. My stolen grace is fading too quickly.” Castiel paused. “Are you physically okay?”
“Physically?” Sarah repeated, considering. “Yes. I guess.”
“Then go.”
~*~
Sarah pulled up outside of the Men of Letters safe house. She could feel the magic here, and not just wardings. Secrets. If she went inside, she’d be fighting the power hungry monster within.
But she had to go in.
She pulled out the phone and thumbed through the contacts until she reached Sam.
“Hello?” he answered on the third ring. He sounded on edge.
“Hey, I’m outside. Let me in.”
He paused. “What? How did you find this place?”
“Sam, I thought you were the smart one. It doesn’t matter. I am outside. Come and let me in.”
There was a click as he hung up, and Sarah got out of her car. She looked around at her surroundings. This had to be defined as the middle of nowhere.
Soon there was a clang and she looked up to see Sam opening a door. She raced up the steps and threw her arms around him.
“Sammy, I’m so sorry.” She whispered.
He shook his head. “Well, Sarah, the situation’s changed.”
“What?”
“Come inside.”
Sarah followed him in. She gagged as he shut the door, cutting off the fresh air. The air reeked of iron and magic.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked with a frown, looking at her watering eyes.
“You had Crowley locked up here?” she asked with a cough. “I can barely breathe. It smells like iron.”
Sam grimaced. “Sorry. Come on, it might get better further in.”
Sarah breathed through her mouth as they walked through the ante-chamber and through another door, into a more open space that looked like a library. Sam led her down the stairs. As soon as the room opened up, the stench and burn of iron dissipated. The air still reeked of magic, but that was expected.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah. Better.” She looked around as they descended. There were books strewn everywhere, accompanies by a half-empty bottle of whiskey. “What happened here? A tornado?”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“I, uh, I’m not drinking right now.”
Sam threw her a funny look and grabbed the bottle anyway. Sarah took off her coat and sat in one of the hard wooden chairs. She studied the younger Winchester.
“You’re not as distraught as I expected.” She said. “You seem more…nervous.”
He stayed quiet as he poured himself a drink, downed it, and poured another. Then he sat next to her.
“Dean’s not dead.” He said heavily.
Somehow, the knot in Sarah’s heart grew bigger. “Sam, tell me exactly what happened.”
Sam shook his head and walked her through the whole thing. The bloodlust. Metatron. Putting Dean in his bed, and leaving to call Crowley to fix it. Then Dean being gone.
Sarah shook her head. “It has to be the Mark. Something with the Mark.”
“But what?”
“I don’t know. There’s no records that far back. Even if I could somehow get into the Grand Coven’s library, I’m sure they wouldn’t have anything.”
“But when he got it, you knew right away. That something bad would happen.”
“Of course I knew! It’s the goddamn Mark of Cain! It’s not something you take lightly! And only idiots like your brother would actually want something like that.”
Sam looked miserable as she stood and walked towards a hallway, which was all cinderblock and identical rooms with numbers. A nearby one had a door flung wide open, and Sarah slowly walked in and looked around. A bed with one pillow, piles of research and newspapers. Knives and guns hanging on the walls. This had to be Dean’s room.
Sarah saw a pile of photographs and picked them up and sat on the end of the bed. John and Mary Winchester. A young boy and Mary Winchester. A younger Dean and a much younger Sam laughing together. The boys and Bobby.
Sam came in the room and sat next to her as she flipped to the last photograph. She let out a small noise when she realized it was one of herself. She remembered Bobby snapping it when she was staying with him. She had an awkward look on her face while she brandished a spatula, open grill behind her. She remembered how warm that day was, the first day of spring.
“That was such a long time ago.” Sarah said softly. She didn’t say it, but how the hell did Dean get a hold of it?
“What’s up, Sarah?” Sam asked. “You’re acting funny.”
Sarah considered lying. But after years of lying about her magic and her life, she owed it to Sam to tell the truth for once. So she mumbled the truth.
“What?”
She sighed and repeated the truth a little louder. “I’m pregnant.”
Sam’s arms went limp.
“Well, I think I am. I have to go for a blood test. But, yeah. Pretty sure.”
“Well, who’s – “
“Do not finish that sentence, Sam. I’ll leave hex bags all over the place if you do. You know exactly who’s baby it is.”
“I’m going to be an uncle, is what you’re saying.”
“Most unfortunately, yes.” Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around herself. “For fuck’s sake, I’m half convinced this baby is the next anti-Christ. Especially in light of this whole Dean being dead-ish again thing. But, I think I can do it. Money isn’t a problem for me, I have a home. I’ll be fine.”
She forced a smile at him, and Sam didn’t think she had ever looked braver than she did in that moment. But Sam knew she wouldn’t be able to do this by herself. As much as Dean always talked about family and home, he sure picked a shitty time to run off on Sarah.
He pulled her into a tight hug, and held her there for a second. “Well get him back.” He promised. “I’ll get him back for you.”
Sarah smiled wryly. “Why are you so sure that he wants to come back?”
“Because he will.”
~*~
Sarah didn’t know where Dean was, and she didn’t know how to fix him. But she had heard things, and those things didn’t make her happy. So when Castiel showed up with another angel, she let them in more because she wanted information than anything else.
“Have a seat.” Sarah said, whipping her brow. Her hand was covered in yellow paint from fixing the third bedroom upstairs. The other angel whispered something to Castiel, and Sarah rolled her eyes. “Hey, sweetheart, no secrets.”
“This is Hannah.” Castiel explained. “And she says you’re pregnant.”
“Well, that’s true.” Sarah sighed, sitting down.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, Cass, I wasn’t really sure how you’d react. Seeing as, you know, the father is running around the Midwest sleeping with anything that’ll open its legs and spending his days in a drunk haze. Not to mention, you know, the fact that he’s killing for fun and is demonized. I don’t know about you, but I personally would want to smite him if I had angel juice.”
“You’re upset.”
“That’s an understatement.” She picked up the glass of lemonade she had poured earlier. The ice was melted but it was still cold. “You have no idea how much this sucks. No drinking, no smoking, not even coffee. I hate this.”
“You’re bringing life into the world.” Hannah said, confused. “A gift from God. how can you say that is a bad thing?”
Sarah sighed. “Angels.”
Castiel looked at Hannah. “Humans often say things out of frustration that they don’t mean. Sarah is actually very happy to be having a baby.”
“Well, very isn’t the word I’d use.” Sarah grumbled. “Why are you here?”
Castiel took her hand. “I already knew about the baby. My grace is fading but I’m still connected to you.”
Sarah nodded and squeezed his hand.
“We’ll get Dean back to you, Sarah. And we can have a small wedding – “
“No.”
“But – “
“First of all, I am keeping this baby because it is my choice. I would like Dean to be involved if he’s not, you know, Satan, but ultimately that’s his choice as well. Second, I’m not about to marry the scumbag who got himself in a jam, went darkside, and slept with half the Midwest. He has some serious making up to do.”
Castiel sighed. “As you wish.”
This was stupid. She didn’t know how this was possible. She had been so careful. An act of fate, then. But since the script was gone, an act of God. God sure had a twisted sense of humor.
This was the last thing she wanted.
She checked her watch again, took a deep breath, and re-entered the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub and looked at the small white plastic stick. Tears pushed behind her eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or distress.
In her pocket, her phone rang. Wiping her eyes, Sarah pulled out the phone and answered it. “Hello?”
“Sarah?” Castiel asked urgently. “Are you okay?”
She sniffled. “What? I mean, I think so. I don’t know right now. What do you mean?”
“I felt your pain.” He said. “I thought you heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Dean’s dead.”
All the breath was knocked out of Sarah as she dropped the phone. She had been through this once before, but now it was just so much worse. Dean was dead again. And something told her it was worse than before. She felt sick.
“Sarah? Sarah?”
Sarah held her face in her hands. Why did this have to happen again? Why now?
“Sarah, pick up the phone. You need to listen to me.”
Robotically, she picked up the phone.
“Sarah, there’s a chance that the Mark of Cain affected him.” Castiel said. “You have to go to Sam now.”
Sarah swallowed heavily. “I can’t.”
“Sarah, you have to go now. I can’t go. I’m too far away. My stolen grace is fading too quickly.” Castiel paused. “Are you physically okay?”
“Physically?” Sarah repeated, considering. “Yes. I guess.”
“Then go.”
~*~
Sarah pulled up outside of the Men of Letters safe house. She could feel the magic here, and not just wardings. Secrets. If she went inside, she’d be fighting the power hungry monster within.
But she had to go in.
She pulled out the phone and thumbed through the contacts until she reached Sam.
“Hello?” he answered on the third ring. He sounded on edge.
“Hey, I’m outside. Let me in.”
He paused. “What? How did you find this place?”
“Sam, I thought you were the smart one. It doesn’t matter. I am outside. Come and let me in.”
There was a click as he hung up, and Sarah got out of her car. She looked around at her surroundings. This had to be defined as the middle of nowhere.
Soon there was a clang and she looked up to see Sam opening a door. She raced up the steps and threw her arms around him.
“Sammy, I’m so sorry.” She whispered.
He shook his head. “Well, Sarah, the situation’s changed.”
“What?”
“Come inside.”
Sarah followed him in. She gagged as he shut the door, cutting off the fresh air. The air reeked of iron and magic.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked with a frown, looking at her watering eyes.
“You had Crowley locked up here?” she asked with a cough. “I can barely breathe. It smells like iron.”
Sam grimaced. “Sorry. Come on, it might get better further in.”
Sarah breathed through her mouth as they walked through the ante-chamber and through another door, into a more open space that looked like a library. Sam led her down the stairs. As soon as the room opened up, the stench and burn of iron dissipated. The air still reeked of magic, but that was expected.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah. Better.” She looked around as they descended. There were books strewn everywhere, accompanies by a half-empty bottle of whiskey. “What happened here? A tornado?”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“I, uh, I’m not drinking right now.”
Sam threw her a funny look and grabbed the bottle anyway. Sarah took off her coat and sat in one of the hard wooden chairs. She studied the younger Winchester.
“You’re not as distraught as I expected.” She said. “You seem more…nervous.”
He stayed quiet as he poured himself a drink, downed it, and poured another. Then he sat next to her.
“Dean’s not dead.” He said heavily.
Somehow, the knot in Sarah’s heart grew bigger. “Sam, tell me exactly what happened.”
Sam shook his head and walked her through the whole thing. The bloodlust. Metatron. Putting Dean in his bed, and leaving to call Crowley to fix it. Then Dean being gone.
Sarah shook her head. “It has to be the Mark. Something with the Mark.”
“But what?”
“I don’t know. There’s no records that far back. Even if I could somehow get into the Grand Coven’s library, I’m sure they wouldn’t have anything.”
“But when he got it, you knew right away. That something bad would happen.”
“Of course I knew! It’s the goddamn Mark of Cain! It’s not something you take lightly! And only idiots like your brother would actually want something like that.”
Sam looked miserable as she stood and walked towards a hallway, which was all cinderblock and identical rooms with numbers. A nearby one had a door flung wide open, and Sarah slowly walked in and looked around. A bed with one pillow, piles of research and newspapers. Knives and guns hanging on the walls. This had to be Dean’s room.
Sarah saw a pile of photographs and picked them up and sat on the end of the bed. John and Mary Winchester. A young boy and Mary Winchester. A younger Dean and a much younger Sam laughing together. The boys and Bobby.
Sam came in the room and sat next to her as she flipped to the last photograph. She let out a small noise when she realized it was one of herself. She remembered Bobby snapping it when she was staying with him. She had an awkward look on her face while she brandished a spatula, open grill behind her. She remembered how warm that day was, the first day of spring.
“That was such a long time ago.” Sarah said softly. She didn’t say it, but how the hell did Dean get a hold of it?
“What’s up, Sarah?” Sam asked. “You’re acting funny.”
Sarah considered lying. But after years of lying about her magic and her life, she owed it to Sam to tell the truth for once. So she mumbled the truth.
“What?”
She sighed and repeated the truth a little louder. “I’m pregnant.”
Sam’s arms went limp.
“Well, I think I am. I have to go for a blood test. But, yeah. Pretty sure.”
“Well, who’s – “
“Do not finish that sentence, Sam. I’ll leave hex bags all over the place if you do. You know exactly who’s baby it is.”
“I’m going to be an uncle, is what you’re saying.”
“Most unfortunately, yes.” Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around herself. “For fuck’s sake, I’m half convinced this baby is the next anti-Christ. Especially in light of this whole Dean being dead-ish again thing. But, I think I can do it. Money isn’t a problem for me, I have a home. I’ll be fine.”
She forced a smile at him, and Sam didn’t think she had ever looked braver than she did in that moment. But Sam knew she wouldn’t be able to do this by herself. As much as Dean always talked about family and home, he sure picked a shitty time to run off on Sarah.
He pulled her into a tight hug, and held her there for a second. “Well get him back.” He promised. “I’ll get him back for you.”
Sarah smiled wryly. “Why are you so sure that he wants to come back?”
“Because he will.”
~*~
Sarah didn’t know where Dean was, and she didn’t know how to fix him. But she had heard things, and those things didn’t make her happy. So when Castiel showed up with another angel, she let them in more because she wanted information than anything else.
“Have a seat.” Sarah said, whipping her brow. Her hand was covered in yellow paint from fixing the third bedroom upstairs. The other angel whispered something to Castiel, and Sarah rolled her eyes. “Hey, sweetheart, no secrets.”
“This is Hannah.” Castiel explained. “And she says you’re pregnant.”
“Well, that’s true.” Sarah sighed, sitting down.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, Cass, I wasn’t really sure how you’d react. Seeing as, you know, the father is running around the Midwest sleeping with anything that’ll open its legs and spending his days in a drunk haze. Not to mention, you know, the fact that he’s killing for fun and is demonized. I don’t know about you, but I personally would want to smite him if I had angel juice.”
“You’re upset.”
“That’s an understatement.” She picked up the glass of lemonade she had poured earlier. The ice was melted but it was still cold. “You have no idea how much this sucks. No drinking, no smoking, not even coffee. I hate this.”
“You’re bringing life into the world.” Hannah said, confused. “A gift from God. how can you say that is a bad thing?”
Sarah sighed. “Angels.”
Castiel looked at Hannah. “Humans often say things out of frustration that they don’t mean. Sarah is actually very happy to be having a baby.”
“Well, very isn’t the word I’d use.” Sarah grumbled. “Why are you here?”
Castiel took her hand. “I already knew about the baby. My grace is fading but I’m still connected to you.”
Sarah nodded and squeezed his hand.
“We’ll get Dean back to you, Sarah. And we can have a small wedding – “
“No.”
“But – “
“First of all, I am keeping this baby because it is my choice. I would like Dean to be involved if he’s not, you know, Satan, but ultimately that’s his choice as well. Second, I’m not about to marry the scumbag who got himself in a jam, went darkside, and slept with half the Midwest. He has some serious making up to do.”
Castiel sighed. “As you wish.”