[h3] Anna [/h3]
Anna nodded to Sam as he suggested that they go into the kitchen and get a drink with the others. She wasn’t exactly excited to look any of them in the eyes, especially Dean, who she wanted absolutely nothing to do with. But she also, in a way, missed all of them in one place, safe. 

She followed Sam to the corner, glancing around and finally deciding to sit on a piece of counter, within arms distance of him. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about…them, but she knew that in that moment, when the basement might be an option, she wanted to keep him close. She also wanted to hold onto a glimmer of the hope she had felt when she saw his face in the barn, like seeing an angel coming to save her.

Anna climbed up onto the counter, turning her back to it and using her sore arms to hoist herself up with a groan of pain from her shoulder, mostly. She then reached a hand out and wrapped a corner of Sam’s flannel around her fingers, like a little leash to hold onto him. Her head perked up, however, when Dean stepped into the kitchen, and picked up a drink Cason had prepared for him. She kept her eyes on Dean, until his eyes turned up and looked straight at her.

She turned her eyes down for a moment, and then glanced up, and Dean was still staring at her, as if he had something to say. As if Dean and Cason were communicating silently, Cason poured another glass of Bourbon, and slid it to Dean, who picked it up and pushed himself away from his spot. He stepped over to Anna, and without a word, held the whiskey out to her.

Anna turned her eyes down, taking the glass, as Dean shoved it at her a bit more insistently. She said nothing. She told him she was done and she was done. She released Sam’s shirt and took a small drink of the amber liquid, as the hard conversations suddenly started. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to talk about the barn, or Dean…

But she did want to know why they were there in the first place. Maybe the others had figured that out, by this point. Maybe the conversation could be a good thing.

[h3] Dean [/h3]

Dean sighed as Bobby came into the room and demanded answers and explanations. He knew that the conversation was coming, but there was a tension lingering in the air, between all of them, and Dean couldn’t see how the conversation wasn’t going to be just full of more confusion, heartbreak and potentially anger and fighting. He wasn’t quite sure.

His eyes fell on Anna, a million reasons to have a conversation with her running through his brain, but he also hadn’t figured out how to explain himself to her. There really wasn’t anything to explain. In a moment of panic, he had made a harsh decision and as it appeared…it was the wrong decision. Seeing Nat with Cason, in that moment, he couldn’t imagine the shape that Natalia would be in, if Cason had died in that barn. But how could he look Anna in the eyes and just tell her he was wrong? It was a bigger deal to her than him simply ‘making a bad decision’. She had watched the person she believed kept her alive, in that barn get left behind…because of Dean’s decisions.

After a moment, Cason read his expression and poured a glass of bourbon, sliding it toward Dean’s empty hand and Dean sighed, picking the glass up off the counter before pushing himself away from his spot in a moment of bravery. He walked straight over to Anna, and pressed the glass into Anna’s limp hand on her lap. As she took the drink, he dropped his hand and tried his best to coax her to look up at him, but she didn’t, and he gave a sad nod, stepping away from her and returning to Mika’s side.

Once there, he sighed and scratched at his eyebrow as Bobby asked the million dollar question, prompting Sam to begin a general run down of how things went south as fast as they did. Dean tensed when Sam brought up the barn, watching the body language of everyone in the room, especially Cason. Cason didn’t react at all, simply taking a drink from his glass. But when the word ‘asylum’ was uttered, Dean looked down at his feet, taking a deep breath. 

He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to have this conversation tonight. Part of him wanted to dip out of the room and run upstairs, before anything progressed. But then Nat began explaining what happened at the asylum further. Dean frowned, hearing every single thing that Nat had gone through in that horrible place, and thanks to Dean, she probably would have died, if Cason wasn’t much more crafty than Dean had given him credit for. Dean glanced up, tears in his eyes, at Cason, giving him a simple nod. The gesture was a mix of ‘thank you’ and ‘we need to talk later’.

Dean was tempted, as Esme began her part of what happened, to step forward and convince her that she didn’t have to tell anything. She didn’t have to tell Bobby she wasn’t human. She didn’t have to break that news to Duke, in the state he was in. She didn’t have to relive all of it, but he kept quiet, glancing to Mika briefly, before taking a long drink of his bourbon.

As Esme worked through every single piece of the asylum, Dean tensed. He knew what he had seen. He knew that he had felt the Hellhounds wrapping themselves around he and Esme, but part of him thought he imagined all of it and got out purely on luck. Of course that wasn’t the case and of course it was something uncomfortable and belief challenging that had saved him. 

Before Esme could get to the ‘not human’ part of her story, she collapsed and Dean quickly forgot about the hammering of his own heart in his ears, suddenly having flashbacks of himself, Duke and Esme in the very same kitchen, all of them worse for wear and worried about each other. His body went into that protective mode, and he sat his glass down on the table, rushing around it as Duke scrambled out of his own chair. Dean placed a hand on Duke’s bare chest and shook his head, “I got her.” 

The look he got back in return caused him to raise his eyebrows briefly, as Duke seemed angry, or at the least ready to fight Dean, as if Dean was stepping in between himself and Esme. 

“Duke. You’re not in any shape to handle anything, alright? Just sit down and relax, and let me help…it’s alright.” Dean comforted Duke, his hand sliding up to Duke’s shoulder to sit him back down in the chair. With a sigh, Duke looked away from him, spacing out, and nodded.

“Esme. Hey…Hey sweetheart. Let’s get you laid out, alright? C’mon…” Dean cooed to Esme, softening his voice as best he could as he carefully slid an arm under her legs and around her back, before hoisting her from the floor. Before stepping around the table, Dean glanced down at Duke, a little uncomfortable with how angry he seemed with the whole situation. Anger wasn’t even an emotion Duke was capable of, half the time…and jealousy? Never. 

[h3] Duke [/h3]

Duke barely remembered walking to the kitchen, as his body ran on autopilot and he took his seat that he always sat in, next to Cason at the table. He reached across the table with a shaky hand and picked up a beer, quickly cracking it open and taking a drink as he spaced out, staring toward the blowing curtains in the open window above the sink. The drink felt foreign and strange as he swallowed, and his sore throat screamed at him. He hadn’t even realized until that moment how much damage the breathing tubes and crap they shoved down his throat to try and save him had done.

As the explanations began, Duke continued to stare off into space, memories of the kitchen flooding his brain. Small bits of the conversation rattled around in between images, especially when Esme told her own story of what happened. So, they had told her he died, of course. Obviously she had told Dean, who told Mika and so on. That’s why they were all looking at him so weird. He was dead and they had all left the hospital to go save Natalia, which was why he woke up alone.

The memory of the night that Dean had confronted Duke about his attachment to Esme played over in his brain, as he zoned out once again. They were young. Duke hated seeing Esme alone, when Dean was away…especially right before John went missing. Dean buried himself in work, but refused to let anyone come with him. He had his dad. So, Duke stayed back, and for once didn’t run away, because if he had, Esme would have been alone. That conversation hurt their relationship, and Duke couldn’t remember them ever fixing things, other than time just healing some of the wounds. He felt like Dean blamed him for losing Esme in the first place…

Hearing that Dean had ‘sacrificed’ himself to try and save Esme almost made Duke shake his head, his only reaction coming out as a small finger tap against his bottle, which perked Cason’s head up. Duke sniffled, tilting his head to the side as he grappled with how easy it seemed for Dean to just…move on from people dying, these days. Even with Mika, who Duke looked up to like a big sister, Duke couldn’t help the sinking feeling that Dean was relieved he was dead…

Duke was snapped from his thoughts as Esme collapsed, and he sprung from his chair, ignoring the tugging of his stitches to tend to her. And like clockwork…like a bad dream, there was Dean. Duke stepped up close to Dean, almost nose to nose with him as his blue eyes burned into Dean’s. Dean quickly began to talk him down, pulling the same brotherly crap that always worked when they were kids and the feeling in Duke’s stomach felt foreign. He wasn’t the jealous or the angry type. This unresolved, pushed down feeling didn’t feel right at all.

He sighed, and turned back to his chair, sitting down heavily with a nod, before turning his eyes up to Bobby, who frowned down at him, as if he was disappointed…but worried. Duke then zoned out, turning his beer in circles in his hands as he stared at the window once again.

[h3] Bobby[/h3]

As Bobby heard everyone’s stories, he tried his best to just stay quiet and stoic, being the solid that held them all together as best he could. But his emotions were a mess internally, as tears played at the corners of his eyes. This all seemed so hopeless, even with them safe, now.  A million thoughts were rattling around in his brain, along with questions that he would need answered before he could make any sense of what was happening. Why would the demons want them back at the asylum in the first place, just to mess with them? Who was messing around at the barn, and why? Why set such a simple trap, just to…kidnap some of the girls and leave the boys alive after a fight?

But when Esme collapsed, Bobby was snapped from the questions rattling around in his head, and he turned to run and help, seeing both Dean and Duke springing into action. It was a reminder of one of the most tense and heartbreaking summers he had ever had with his kids. He watched them tear each other apart over attachments. He watched Dean leave, break Duke’s heart, and at the same time, bring Mika back to him. He stepped forward, as Duke’s aggression rose, ready to grab his son and keep him from making a mistake…after all the years of holding those emotions in.

“Duke. Don’t.” He called out to him. As Duke agreed to sit down, Bobby simply shook his head the second he made eye contact, trying to keep his face neutral for Duke’s sake. He was really starting to worry about the kid. As soon as Duke settled, and Dean stepped out of the room, Bobby turned to call back to Dean, “I’ll be in there in a few to check her over.”

“Yeah! Her head, man. She needs someone to look at her head.” Dean called back as he carefully laid Esme on the couch. 

“Ten-four.” Bobby called back, before turning to those who were left in the kitchen. He looked around at the group and sighed, “So, here’s what I want to know. What the hell did they want with you in Missouri, anyway? I mean there has to be a reason, other than just messing with you.”

“I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I might…I might have managed to dig a bit of info from one of the demons I killed on my way out of that barn.” Cason started, and Anna’s head snapped toward him with raised eyebrows. “They told me some things about the farm…and Anna…and Lilith.”

“What?” Anna asked, straightening with wide eyes as she stared down at Cason. 

“Go on.” Bobby urged Cason to continue. His eyes were narrowed in curiosity.

“Lilith wanted her there.” Cason continued, and Anna shifted uncomfortably on the counter. “Lilith wanted her in the place where it all began, because she wanted to use her to break a seal…well…a couple of seals, actually. The house up the way? The one that was burned to a husk? It’s where your family died, Anna.”

“No. No no no. This didn’t all happen because of me.” Anna shook her head, looking around at everyone as if they were going to blame her for the terror they had all experienced the night before. Cason shook his head.

“No. We all just got wrapped up in it. They would have gotten to Nat either way. No matter what we did, we would have ended up somewhere…ambushed and it would have happened either way. This was just the path of least resistance for them.” Cason explained, before taking a drink. Bobby tilted his head, knowing that this information was a lot for Anna to take in, but he was careful not to press. Instead, he moved onto his next question.

“And was it one of the big bads that took her?”

“Alastair.” Cason and Anna said in unison. Anna could almost feel the tension from Dean in the next room as the name slipped from her lips. 

“Well that’s great. Here’s a good question, while we’re sharing and caring.” Bobby started, taking a deep and exasperated breath as he tried to handle all the information he was just strapped with, “Why the hell does Dean look the way he does…and Nat looks the way she does…and yet, Esme looks…”

“Because she’s not human.” Cason blurted out, interrupting Bobby. Duke's eyes shot over to Cason, and he narrowed them. Cason nodded sadly, trying to convey to Duke that it wasn't his conversation to have with the cowboy. Esme needed to talk to him.

“Come again?” Bobby asked, looking around at everyone in the room, lingering on Sam and Mika and then Duke, who turned from Cason with a lost and devastated look that Bobby couldn't quite place.