“You still haven’t answered my question,” Dean said. “Castiel said sometimes you’re sisters, sometimes you’re grandmother, mother and daughter, and sometimes you’re one woman. He said you have many names. You’re some kind of goddess, right?”

She sighed and took Dean’s hand, and held them both loosely as she looked out at the empty marketplace. “Some kind, yes.”

“Sophie Fisher and Doctor Fisher, they’re you.”

“They’re me, I’m them . . . six of one, half-a-dozen of the other. Most women have many faces, even if they’re not divine.” She held their hands closer together. “I feel very maternal toward most people, but toward the both of you in particular. I’ve watched you all of your lives, you know.” Sam looked at her sharply and she smiled. “It’s not just demons that are interested in you. Not just the armies of Heaven, either.”

Sam lowered his head and wiped his eyes with his free hand. “So you’re something in between,” he said gruffly.

“Neither angel nor demon. Just . . . me.” She exhaled. “You know, I believe neither of you are beyond redemption. I believe you can choose your destiny — refuse or accept it. Embrace it or walk away. Though I know neither of you will walk away.”

“Am I doomed?” Sam said, and Dean could see Sam’s hand shaking in Maya’s.

“Oh, Sammy, no. No. But the road isn’t ended and has many twists and forks, and you can’t always see which path is the right one.”

“Yeah,” Sam muttered.

“The Green Knight’s question had a purpose, Sam. When it comes down to it, you are going to ask yourself what it is you really want. Is it power? Is it something else? Do you want to remake the world?”

“Sometimes I think I do,” Sam said.

“Well, stop it. A lot of tyrants set out to form Utopia and end up building Pandemonium.”

“I would never be a tyrant,” Sam whispered.

“Sam,” Maya said gently, “think about who Lucifer was, before he Fell. The most beautiful of the angels, the light-bearer, the son of the morning. He was beloved and favored. And then because he was too proud to obey, he was cast out.”

“I’m not Lucifer,” Sam said. “And I’m not the fucking Antichrist.”

“Language,” Maya said mildly.

“Sorry,” Sam muttered and she patted his hand.

“You’re a beloved child, Sam. Never forget that.” He nodded and she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Now. Dean.”

“I know. Stop being sorry. Start being a hero.”

“I’m glad you were listening,” Maya said. “But what I was going to say is talk to your brother.”

Dean clenched his jaw a moment, wishing they’d leave the marketplace and get back to reality. He said, “I didn’t know you were still using your powers, Sam.”

“I know,” Sam said. “Not just using. Developing. Making them strong.”

“And that’s exactly what Maya is talking about,” Dean said. “You’re not supposed to use the gifts from the demons.”

“Then how else am I supposed to fight, Dean? I don’t have an angel giving me medallions to protect me.”

“God! Sam!” Dean said and yanked his hand from Maya’s so he could talk a few steps away. He shoved his hands into his hair. “But you do have a demon doing God only knows what for you — and with you –”

“Who’s the star card, Dean?” Sam said, his hands hanging between his knees. “It’s Castiel, isn’t it? I mean, who else would it be? Unless you’ve been in touch with Cassie or Lisa without telling me.”

“Right,” Dean said. “I’m in love with a guy. An angel. Because that makes perfect sense, Sam. Why not fuck up my life a little more and long for the impossible.” His voice shook and he scuffed his foot on the cobbles. “I’d give anything for something I could actually keep.”

Maya made a soft sound at this. She’d been listening without commenting or even making a gesture, her chin on her hand. Dean glared at her and she smiled a tiny bit. “Be careful making wishes here, Dean.”

“Right,” he muttered. “Here’s one. I wish my brother would tell me the fucking truth.”

“And this angel, who you trust more than anyone, who you love,” Sam said, his voice cold. “He knew.”

Dean looked at Sam, incredulous, and then at Maya. “He knows?” She nodded, her expression pained, and Dean looked up at the unfamiliar stars.

Sam went on, relentless and relishing it, “And he didn’t tell you that he saw me kill Alastair — not just exorcise him, but kill him, with nothing more than my will.”

Dean whispered, “God damn,” and wondered if anyone had ever told him something true.

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