Dean paced in the basement hallway of Bobby’s house, taking a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose.  This was insane.  They were running out of time to kill this thing, but at the same time, they didn’t really want to.  Who wanted to kill a baby?  Even worse, who wanted to kill a pregnant woman?

As another scream left Amy’s mouth, from the next room, Dean flinched and closed his eyes tightly.  What was he supposed to do?  They had spent the last few months staying with Amy. They made sure she was safe, until they could figure out what to do.  But there was nothing to do.  She refused to give the baby up, no matter what they told her.  Castiel refused to kill her.  Bobby had all but checked out, agreeing to let them use the basement for her room, but that was about it.

He was alone, except for Sam.  And now?  Sam was panicking almost as bad as he was.  They had managed to get Ellen to come over, if anything to assist in the birth.  It was something that the three men knew absolutely zilch about.  Another scream rang out, with a small rumble, this time.

“Dammit…”, Dean whispered to himself, picking up a bottle of whiskey from the staircase and kicking back a long drink.  As Amy screamed again, a bright light showing through the door of the safe room, and everything went silent, before Ellen stepped out of the room, her face horrified, “Ellen?”

Ellen simply shook her head, a tear running down her cheek.  She gave him a sad look, glancing down at her bloody hands briefly, and then ascended the staircase.  Dean took a deep breath, his eyes wide as he realized what she was saying.  They had both died.  He didn’t want to check, alone.

“Sam?!”, he yelled up the staircase, staring at the cracked open door in front of him.