32. Donatello, The Prophet (Not the Ninja Turtle)
Things feel way different in the bunker. For one thing, I notice I'm packing on a few more pounds than normal—not a total surprise. What is a surprise, is Chuck housing himself with Sam, Dean, and myself. He seems to be getting pretty comfortable. I'm not quite sure that's a good thing, hard to say right now.
Since I feel bloated, I've donned baggy clothing that I've been sleeping in the past few nights. My feet scuff the bunker floor as I make my way out to one of the main areas. I find Sam on his laptop, and he greets me with a tired smile.
"Sleep any?" he asks.
"Look, I know I'm pregnant and all, but, you don't need to feel obligated to ask every few hours, Sam," I joke half-heartedly. I feel a kick in my stomach. Since Chuck helped my baby come out of her shell so to speak, she's been more vocal. She. It's a she. He said so. I can't believe I'm taking God's word on the gender of my baby that supposedly was hiding from me for months.
I don't understand how that's possible until I remember that Cas isn't human, and that I am. I'll have to look into the lore on hybrid children.
I walk over to Sam, resting my arms over his shoulders, putting my chin on the top of his head. I'm glancing down at the screen. "So, nothing?"
"Not a thing."
"Hey, sunshine, look who beat me out of bed," is Dean's greeting to me. "Anything?"
"Nada," Sam repeats, accepting the drink Dean offers him. "Thanks."
"Let me guess, I'm on a special diet," I mock my older brother.
"Hey, you got to watch yourself," says Dean.
"I'm pregnant, not on quarantine." That's another thing that's been different: Sam and Dean and their interaction with me. How calmly they just accepted that their sister is pregnant and has been since...I honestly can't remember how far along I am. I certainly can't go by my appearance.
I guess when God's sister, aka the Darkness, is threatening the world, that takes top priority over news like a Winchester's pregnancy.
"You know, I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but, for once, I actually wish Rowena was here," Sam admits. "I mean, maybe she could track down Amara. She's done it before."
"Yeah, but you can bet she and the Book are gonna stay stashed until this whole thing is over," says Dean. "Where's Chuck?"
I shrug. "Sleeping in, I guess. Lucky him."
"Does God sleep?"
"I know he takes really long showers." I frown slightly.
"Right, and sings, too—like, crappy old folk songs. I had to tell him to cool it three times."
"You told God to cool it?"
"Yeah, I sleep."
"So do I, but you don't see me sassing him."
"You already did by bitch-slapping him twice."
"Guess he's not in a wrathful mood, otherwise we'd be dust or ash or something."
"You know, I know this is a really strange situation and all, but it's also really amazing, you know?" Sam babbles. "I mean, it's God. There's so many things I want to ask him, uh, like, uh, t-the planets, you know? Why are they round? Or ears. I always thought they were strange—"
I pat my little brother's head. "Okay, fanboy, calm down. We know you like to geek out when in the presence of a celebrity."
"Oh come on, Jo, like you aren't curious about anything? Anything at all?"
I purse my lips. "Well, I got a question that's lady part related—"
"Anything besides that?"
I chuckle. "I never really sat down and made up my Dear God List."
"Let's stay focused, you guys," Dean calls us to order. "We got to find Lucifer before it's too late."
"Too late?" I inquire.
"Amara is—she's in my head. Hey, I didn't ask for it, okay? She just showed up. But she's showing me visions of—of Lucifer. By Lucifer, I mean Cas, and he looks like crap—like she's really doing a number on him."
"Shh," I hiss, seeing Chuck, robe tied around him, enter the room. "Morning."
"Is that my robe?" Dean asks Chuck. I personally don't see how that's Dean's robe, I have one that's the same fuzzy material, and the same gray color. Maybe that's mine he's wearing instead.
"I'm telling you guys, it's a mistake to get mixed up with Lucifer," Chuck tells us. "Much as it pained me, I had to walk away. Too much drama. Do you have any bacon?"
"You eat bacon?"
"Yeah."
"Hey, guys, this just came up," says Sam. "Looks like that fog, the, um...Amara fog, uh, hit another town."
"And?" I ask begrudgingly.
"And this one wasn't as lucky as the last one. Thousands died. Uh, everybody died. But, uh, except for one man."
Dean looks at Chuck. "How'd you miss that one?"
"She's baiting me," Chuck replies. "I can't respond every time. I won't be manipulated."
"Yeah, but thousands of people are dead."
"Unfortunately. So find her."
* * *
"Professor Redfield," I address the frightened man as Sam, Dean, and I are in the police station. "FBI." We're standing with the only man who's survived the most recent fog attack. How he survived, we're about to find out.
"Call me Donatello," he says. "Yeah. I'm named after him." He chuckles.
"The...Mutant Ninja Turtle?" Dean says in confusion.
"The, uh, Renaissance sculptor."
"Right, of course."
I pat Dean on his back. "Nice try."
"The cops think I'm a terrorist," Donatello squeaks. "I-I teach chemistry at the university. I-I lead a quiet life. I have a cat! Had a cat." His face is a crestfallen.
"Well, we are, uh, sorry for your loss," Sam tells him sincerely. "Just a few questions. Um, other than the fog, did you notice anything or anyone that seemed out of place on the street that night?"
"It—it all happened so fast. I, uh...It was like it came out of nowhere. We hardly ever get fog, and never like that. It was horrible. They were clutching their throats like—like—like they were choking. And, oh. Their bodies—oh, my God—these terrible black streaks.
"And that's when it happened. It was like nothing I've ever felt before in my life. It was like my head was exploding, only not with pain—with—with—with knowledge and—and clarity! Things I'd never known before. Symbols and—and voices—in languages I don't speak! Then...horrible...horrible visions...of destruction...and death." Donatello's expression falls even further. "You think I'm crazy."
"No, uh, not at all," says Sam. "Just, uh, you know, will you give us a moment?"
I'm a bit in the dark as we leave the professor alone and head over to the refreshment table to talk quietly.
"Someone want to fill me in here?" I ask my brothers.
"Sounds like a road we've been down before," Sam say cryptically. He looks at Dean. "I mean, you get that this is all sounding familiar, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, like when Kevin found out he was a prophet," says Dean.
I honestly can't remember if I know that tidbit about Kevin Tran. "So, what, this guy's a prophet?" I ask.
"Yeah, but I thought Crowley rounded up all the future prophets and tried to kill them," says Sam. Well, that sounds like Crowley.
"Yeah, but we rescued them and Donatello wasn't a part of that," says Dean, "but, yeah, it's possible Crowley missed a few."
"And, obviously, he had no idea he was next in line after Kevin, so..."
"How would he? He hadn't gotten hit by the God power yet. So, Amara's fog—could it have been Amara's God power?"
"It's still God power," I muse. I look back at the professor, whose a few shades away from being sick. The poor guy, he has no idea what's really going on. Feeling a little bit sorry for the man, I make my way back over to him.
"Um...am—am I under arrest?" he asks me timidly.
"No, just, um...want to check out a few more aspects of your story." I smile sweetly. I gesture to Sam, who walks to my aid. He hands me a piece of paper, which have symbols I know I can't translate. I look at my brother questioningly, who nods towards Donatello. "Okay, uh, here we go. Would you look at this? Try and read it a little."
"Oh, I can't. I—I don't even know anything about it." Donatello goes silent to study the paper. "'Behold the face of God'." His expression turns to shocked as he looks up at Sam and me. "That came right to me. Who speaks this language?"
"Angels," Sam tells him.
Donatello looks at us bizarrely and then chuckles. "Angels? Don't be ridiculous."
I scoff. "Professor, we're being whole-heartedly serious here. Do you know why you can read those symbols?"
"I don't have the slightest clue."
Well, I'm glad he didn't give a ridiculous answer like the fog gave him superpowers. "You're a...you're a prophet."
"A...what, now?"
**Hmm...so...Jo's pregnancy (and the fact that it's a girl!)...how are we stomaching this, you guys? Sort of like how our girl is currently?**