Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"What the hell did you do to me?" Dean snarled hoarsely, fighting his primordial urges to rip the man in front of him into shreds. The urge to rip through the flesh and bones until there was nothing left. Nothing left of his enemy but an oozing pile of organs.

He had glanced into the standard rectangular mirror originally to remind himself that he was human. That humans didn't do that sort of things to other humans, no matter the circumstances. Instead, he found himself staring at an unrecognizable face glaring back at him. It froze him to the spot.

It was the thing's eyes, mainly, supposedly his eyes. But they were not his, not anymore. The twin emerald rimmed black holes stared back at him hauntingly, reminding him all the horror he'd seen, endured, over the past year. Or was it years? He honestly had no clue anymore. In fact, time had ceased to exist for him.

Staring into those twin black orbs, he felt himself being sucked into the dark abyss of his eyes, the reflection of his soul. What was it they said about black holes? That even time couldn't escape them. That's why time no longer matter here, here in the Pit, in the Abyssal depths of his soul.

He flinched at the strange welcoming warmth that filled his body at the sight of the darkness engulfing his soul. Simultaneously, what was left of his human heart iced over at the knowledge that the abyss had him now. He had stared into those depths one too many times to ever escape again. This knowledge, combined with the dueling temporal sensation freaked him out more than anything that had been done to him in this Pit of Despair.

Immediately next to the walled mirror that held Dean fixated, the little bug eyed scientist tried to wiggle out of his lab coat and off of the wall that he'd been slammed against. His intent was not to sound the alarm, however, because the alarm had been blaring very loudly for the past five minutes. No, this particular scientist only wanted to escape this newest creation.

The current alarm indicated that the numerous inmates of this compound were taking over and all he wanted to do was escape before he was contaminated, killed, or worse. Yes, there were worse, much worse, things than death in this compound. The disturbed experiment in front of him that had him pinned to the wall was a prime example of something that most of the monsters here had nightmares about.

Unfortunately, he couldn't wiggle free, no matter how hard he tried, and, worse than that, his futile struggles angered the creature in front of him. He knew that when he felt the razor sharp claws pierce his skin where human hands used to be and watched helplessly as the face in front of him started to pulse, bulge and contort in a disturbingly hypnotic fashion. Absolute, debilitating horror did not even beginning to describe what he was feeling while he heard bones cracking and the low rumbling growl increase in volume while the specimen before him shifted into . . . not human! His mind screamed in deep seated terror.

"Nothing," he gasped quickly as the last question popped to the forefront of his brain. He prayed that the honest answer would reward him with a free pass, an escape, but he had to hurry. There wasn't much time, if any, before the creature transformed completely. "We, we f-f-fixed you . . . with, with the anti-serum. You're . . . "

"Cured? Do I look fixed to you?" Dean rasped out irately, fighting against his altering vocal cords.

"I, I don't understand. The werewolf serum has worked before. It's worked before, several times. You, you said that you h-h-hadn't k-k-killed, that you hadn't f-f-fed," he stuttered and rambled quickly as he could with increasing panic while the thing before him continued to turn less human by the second.

"I wasn't a werewolf, you bumbling jackass," Dean growled low in his throat, having to force the words out as his throat continued to change with the rest of him. He closed the space between him and the trembling coward before him, taking up all the room between the two.

"B-but . . . "

"I was cursed, asshat. All I needed was a counter curse, you freakin' moron. That's all. I told you all that! Repeatedly," Dean hissed menacingly, losing volume, as his voice crack more under the mounting stress of his changing body. "Now, fix this before I tear you a new one! Fix it, and whatever the hell else you've done to me while I've been here or, so help me God, I will kill you, you Frankenstein wannabee."

Bug-eyed man gulped in terror as he stared fearfully into the dark eyed monster solidifying before him. He suggested with nervous hesitation, "A, ah, a were- werewolf bite . . . it m-m-might counter the anti-serum."

It narrowed his eyes appraisingly at the insignificant man. It could smell the intense fear and uncertainty which was confirmed in the puny man's eyes. It could still think clinically and easily figured out the rest. It concluded aloud harshly, "Or it will kill me. Or turn me into one. Or turn me into something else entirely. Probably something worse. Do you even know what I am anymore?"

It scoffed cynically with a mocking smirk on its forming jowls, "Some choice you give me. Die, turn or mutate more. Freakin' god wannabees. Death is too easy for any of you now!"

This human's body, Dean's body, belong to it now. They had stolen it from Dean in ways that he would have never believed were possible and now it owned the body. The things that they had done to the human . . . These supposed 'doctors' and all under the premise of 'helping' him. Bullshit, the thing thought with a grim smile.

The freakin' Bill Nyes and Einstiens of the world saw to that over the past however many months. Hard to tell time being locked in a windowless compound all the time without clocks. Not that it mattered anymore, it realized as its vision developed the familiar blood-red tinged view to its new black and white world while the anger built up inside it. It was no longer human, not anymore. It would never be human again, thanks to these other so called "humans".

'Not Dean anymore. Never be Dean, ever again. Dean dead, had been dead for a long time now. Was just too stupid to realize it. So stupid. Always so stupid. Stupid human. Held on to hope . . . until it had all been destroyed. Foolish mortal. Only blood now. Only pain now. For all eternity.'

'So be it', it thought grimly because it had lost the mental capacity for actual speech as well as the will to fighting the rage and instinct anymore. Instead, it embraced its nature, knowing there was no going back after this. Whoever it was, whoever it used to be, was dead now so why not?

The last coherent thought of Dean Winchester registered before his entire world, and being, drown in a blood red tinged ocean was: 'They wanted a super soldier. Let's see how they like fighting one.'

As the creature's heart rate slowed and the rage slowed decreased, it found itself standing in the middle of a red and white room. It figured that the room was probably mostly white originally, or it used to be. Staring at the mangled, torn apart bodies whose blood and internal organs now decorated the room, the walls, the scattered, destroyed furniture, the creature's clothes, even its body. The strong iron scented blood filled the air to the point that it knew. It knew deep inside its slowing heart. This was the end. There was nothing left now.

The ominous quiet that now settled over the facility shattered at the sudden gunshot which would have startled anyone, or anything, alive that had still been within hearing range. But there was nothing. Nothing living. Only dead. Death was the only thing that roomed these halls anymore. Even the alarm was silent now.

Once again, the abyss had won. It had devoured yet another soul for its starved, darkest depths. Barely sated, it settled back down once again to wait for its next victim.

Dean Winchester's eyes shot wide open as he jerked upright into a sitting position in his bed. Frantic eyes flew over his surroundings searching out any source of danger in the sickenly normal nondescript hotel room that had been the typical temporary lodgings for a majority of his life. The dimly lit room resonated as a norm for him. He could even mentally picture the exact neon sign and lights that beamed in through the threadbare curtains while he calmed his sweating body and rapid breathing down.

For once, he was thankful for the old worn, nondescript items that standardized most cheap hotel room across the US. Now he knew where he was, mostly, so he took control of his breathing. Sweat that had beaded up earlier slowly dried on his worn out body, cooling it off in the process. He closed his eyes mentally thanking the powers that be that it had only been a dream. Unconsciously, he repeated to himself under his breath, "A dream. Just a dream. Just a dream . . ."

As he slowly laid back down, he actually prayed that this time his subconscious would believe him for a change so that the dream, that dream, would never return. Maybe this time he could make himself believe it enough. Maybe this time it would matter, whether he believed it or not.

He really should have known better. His desperate prayers once again went unanswered. He had forgotten the golden rule unfortunately. For the Winchesters, the wrong dreams are the only ones that do come true.

- SPN - SPN -

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - Sam

“Winchester.”

John Winchester frowned slightly at the familiar gruff voice of his best friend as it sounded over the cell phone that he’d just answered. “Singer? Thought you weren’t talking to me anymore. Cocked a shotgun and everything.”

Bobby grunted in response, “Yeah, well, you have that effect on people.” John really couldn’t deny that fact. Then Bobby sighed heavily and admitted solemnly, “Heard about Dean. You should have told me,” he scolded irately then continued in a calmer tone. “Been searching ever since.” He paused again then informed John reluctantly, “Finally have a lead.”

John tightened his grip on his phone and the steering wheel. He mindfully pulled his black F-150 truck over to the side of the highway. He knew better than to drive during this topic of conversation. He shifted his truck’s gear shift into park then rubbed a hand over his face and closed his eyes briefly. He steeled himself for a moment before he ordered roughly, “Talk.”

“A hunter, Gordon Walker, cleared out a vampire nest in southern Idaho yesterday. Came across some pictures you need to take a look at.” He paused for an instant then continued with a soft sigh, “He’s pretty sure it’s Dean.”

John swallowed hard then asked the most important question, “Alive?”

After another brief pause, Bobby slowly forced out, “He doesn’t think so. Said one of them had a date and DOA stamped on it.”

“Date?” John repeated harshly, trying to hold back his devastation and cling to hope, no matter how remote it seemed at the moment. But he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He’d been searching for Dean non-stop of almost two years now without a single, decent lead. Now, it seemed that his worse fears had come true. So much for prayer, John snarked mentally, and why I never believe in it. Like his family hadn’t sacrificed enough over the years.

“About eight months after Sam left. Two weeks after you saw him last,” Bobby recited. John slowly opened his reddened eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to overflow on him. Bobby offered quietly, “He sent me cap shots of the pics from a camera phone. I can forward them to you if you want. He’s bringing the actual pics by in a couple of days. If you want to swing by, you can check them out yourself. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“Body?” John rasped out after he finally found his voice.

“Not there. He checked and double-checked. Apologized for killing everything first but he didn’t know about the pics until he searched the nest. I’m going to double check what he has but he didn’t think the damage shown in the pics was from vamps. Of course, if they didn’t do it, why would they have them?”

“Exactly,” John agreed hoarsely. He expelled a shuddering breath, trying to keep it together. Trying to forget what had happened the last time he’d seen his eldest.  Hell, he hadn’t even known that Dean was missing before he had already been killed according to the dates Bobby gave him. What the hell kind of father was he? That question and realization made John feel a hundred times worse.

John swallowed thickly and responded slowly, not quite ready to give up all hope, “How sure are you, Bobby? Don’t bullshit me. Tell me the truth.”

Bobby thought for a long moment before he clarified sadly, “As sure as I can be, without a body.”

John cursed weakly for a moment then ran a shaky hand over his face and planned out loud, “Guess I need to tell Sam then. I’m closer to him right now anyway and he would want to see as well. After I tell him, I’ll head over.”

“No problem. I’m not going anywhere until you come by,” Bobby assured him then added with a solemn, pained voice, “I’m really sorry, John. I loved him, too.”

John’s eyes burned more so he cleared his throat and acknowledged softly, “I know, Bobby. I know you did. Look, I’ll call you when I’m heading over.”

“Okay. Take care, Johnny.”

*****

Who knew getting a cup of coffee could be so life changing? John thought ironically while he stared at the smoldering apartment building that had housed his son, Sam, and his son’s, now very dead, girlfriend, Jessica.

As John watched the burning building and the emergency services personnel trying to extinguish it, he mentally reviewed the events of this evening. He had approached Sam around eight o’clock this evening as Sam was coming home from the library. He’d had enough people keeping tabs on this particular son to know his schedule. That’s also how he knew that Sam hadn’t had a clue about his brother in all this time.

John smirked slightly, unable to help himself for that instant, as he remembered how much Sam had stayed the same. He still had all his lanky brown hair and gangly gait, eating up the sidewalk as he went. He also walked with his head in a book as always. It still amazed John, not only how much his youngest boy towered over him, but also how much Sam loved to read.

He would never admit it to Sam but now he was not only proud of how Sam had stood up to him and broke away from the hunting life. He was also very thankful. It was bad enough losing Dean. Considering how close his two boys were, he knew Sam could have very easily been lost as well.

“Sam,” John called out softly as Sam neared the tree John was leaning against.

Sam paused, glancing up from the book in his hand and over in the direction of a voice he thought he’d never hear again. “Dad?” He verified uncertainly.

John stepped away from the tree and into the light. He stared at Sam with a slight smile. He greeted wearily, “Hey, Sammy.” He glanced around uncomfortably then continued seriously, “We need to talk.”

Sam stared at his father for a long moment thoughtfully then nodded, surprising John to no end. “Just let me run these into Jess and let her know where I’m going. I’ll be right back.”

Sam ran into his apartment to drop off his books and tell Jessica where he was going. All the while, his mind whirled with disturbed confusion. He had no idea what was going on but he knew his father wasn’t acting like himself, at all. First and foremost, John didn’t use his drill sergeant command voice. John had actually asked Sam to follow him and seemed nervous about the whole thing.

With that in mind, Sam gathered up some salt and holy water with him from his stash deep in the closet while he let Jessica know what was going on. He hid his supplies inside his jacket as he rushed back out the door. He hurried back out and found his dad exactly where he had left him.

“Um, coffee?” Sam suggested nervously.

John gave a slight half smile and agreed hoarsely, “Yea. Some caffeine would be good.”

They walked to a nearby coffee house in silence because neither one knew how to start this conversation. Sam grabbed their drinks from the counter, slipping some holy water into his father’s drink. After they both had their drinks, they found a table outside to sit at so they could talk easier.

John studied Sam for a long moment, drinking in the sight of his prodigal son. He took a hesitant sip of his coffee, grateful for the hot burn going down, while he watched Sam. Deep down, he really wished he had done the same with Dean. In fact, looking back, it seemed that he had always focused more on Sam and Dean had always faded into the background, giving Sam all the dad time he had to offer. Most of the time, he’d only checked the status of things with Dean before moving on to Sam. He flinched inwardly as he acknowledge that Sam was right about how he had always treated his eldest as a soldier and wished that he could go back . . . but there was no such thing as real wishes.

Knowing that these thoughts were getting him nowhere, he cleared his throat before he commented casually, “You look good, Sammy. Really good. Looks like college life is treating you well. How are your grades?”

Sam shrugged nervously, acknowledging that his father had no reaction to the holy water, before he rushed out, “Good. Grades are good. A’s and one B. I have to say, though, you look like crap, Dad. When’s the last time you slept?”

John winced slightly in response and thought about taking a nice long drink of his hot coffee, just to feel the burn again amidst the numbing sensation of knowing his oldest was probably dead. But he didn’t deserve to feel, especially now that he had to break his other son’s heart by telling him about his older brother. The deep burning agony that he’d felt when he’d finished talking to Bobby had lasted until this numbness was all that he could feel. He really didn’t know which was worse.

Sam fidgeted with more nervousness, having seen the wince. The long silence that followed afterward set him even more on edge. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table and wrapped his hands around his own coffee. He stared at John and demanded softly, “Dad. What is it? Is it . . . is it De –“

John remained in a lounge position in his chair with one hand around his cooling coffee. John felt his face, his game face as Dean always called it, shatter at that remembrance. He closed his eyes slowly and swallowed hard, attempting to control his emotions. He had to keep going. He had to find out the truth of what happened to both Mary and Dean now.

“N-N-No,” Sam protested weakly then became stronger. “No. Not Dean. I would know. I would know, Dad.”

John drew in a shaky breath then leaned forward with his elbows relaxed on the table. He stared his youngest in the eyes and told him cautiously, “Everything is currently pointing that way.”

“What –“

John held up his hand and snapped but without his normal force, “Let me finish, Sam. I’m going to Bobby’s next. He, well, he has the latest . . .”

John ran a hand over his face then shook his head slightly. “Look, Dean dropped off of the grid about eight months after you left. We were taking different hunts. Little things. Salt and burn type things that he could do in his sleep.”

“So why did he disappear then?” Sam growled irritably.

John shook his head. “I wish I could answer that, Sammy. I do, but there is no answer. Or, at least. not one that I can find yet. I know he made it to the right town and figured the case out right. There was evidence that he’d started to dig up the right bones because the grave was messed up but there was nothing else. Not a thing. No sign of him. No sign of what might have happed to him. Nothing. I finished the hunt, thinking that the same thing might happen to me, to give me a clue, but nothing happened. The ghost showed, did a few minor tricks but it apparently hadn’t been a ghost for too long because it barely even harassed me.”

“You should have told me,” Sam snarled softly, conscious of their surroundings.

“I tried. You wouldn’t pick up!” John bit back hotly. Sam flinched in acknowledgement, remembering the repeated calls from his father over a year ago.

John exhaled slowly, trying to control his temper. “Anyway, I’ve had people looking since then. Pastor Jim, Caleb, Bobby, all of them. Everyone I knew. They all had everyone they could think of doing the same thing.”

“What did they get?”

“Nothing! Not a single damn lead,” John spat disgustedly. “Until yesterday. A vamp hunter took out a nest. Apparently, inside the nest were pics of Dean. One of them had a DOA stamp on it with a date. He’s dropping the stuff off at Bobby’s so I’m headed there now then head out to the nest. Probably won’t be anything left, if I know Gordon, but I still have to check. Just wanted to let you know.” John stood at that point, intent on heading out.

“Wait,” Sam ordered abruptly, jumping up. “I’m coming with.”

John stared at Sam a long moment then warned softly, “Look, Sam. They’re just pics. No body. No real lead. I’m sure Bobby’s going to come with me to check out the nest. We’ll keep you informed of it all, if you’ll answer your damn phone. But I seriously doubt that we’ll find anything definite. Whatever happened to your brother, whatever, or whoever, was damn good at covering its tracks.”

“I’m still coming,” Sam insisted stubbornly as he turned to head back to his apartment.

John fell in step with him, secretly thrilled. Since Dean disappeared, he’d wanted to keep what was left of his family kept close together. He could not let Sam slip through his fingers again, especially after this.

Sam suddenly cursed under his breath. Before John could ask him, Sam informed him tautly, “I have an interview early tomorrow morning but I want to see what Bobby has, too. That is why you came here first, right?”

John shot Sam a quick glance that reminded him of Dean before staring in front of him. John answered abruptly, “I figured I should give you the choice. Can’t you skip this interview? Or maybe reschedule it?”

“It’s a law school interview, Dad. It’s my whole future on a plate. I can’t skip it.” Sam sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll borrow a car and head out right after it. I’ll only be like a half a day behind.”

John thought for a long moment but there really wasn’t much of a choice for him. John couldn’t leave Sam behind after all of this. He sighed heavily before he argued firmly, “No. I’ll wait for you. It’s not like this is a warm trail or anything and Bobby’s still waiting on the other hunter to show up. Maybe he can meet us halfway to make up the time. I’ll call and we’ll work something out.”

Sam sighed in relief at not getting left behind then mumbled, “Thanks, Dad.” They continued on in silence, each man trapped within his own thoughts and worries. When they were in front of Sam’s apartment, he told his dad, “Bring your stuff on up and you can have the couch for the night.”

John gave a weak smile of gratitude then hedged uneasily, “I have someone working with me.”

Sam shrugged without concern and amended easily, “Bring him up, too.”

John smiled a bit more and nodded. “Be right back, Sammy.”

They both turned toward their respective assignments but then John turned back and grabbed Sam into a quick heartfelt hug. He whispered into the taller man’s neck, “Thanks, Sam. It is really good to see you again.” Sam gave him a quick hug in return. They patted each other on the back before they separated again and hurried to do what they had planned.

Thank God, I hadn’t left without Sam, John thought as his mind brought him back to the present. Otherwise, Sammy would be dead right now, just like his girlfriend. Just like Dean.

John shuddered over the knowledge that he had barely gotten Sam out in time. In fact, if he hadn’t been chased back inside to the apartment building by a very large dog, possibly a wolf, he would have never made it in time to save Sam. The huge dark wolf had rounded the building and intercepted him before he’d even reached his truck across the street, cutting off his path. It also appeared to be hell-bent on taking a part of John, either for a taste or a trophy. John wasn’t real sure which and didn’t wait around to find out.

The wolf herded John to the apartment door then forcibly squeezed in the door at the last minute. John fell back and scrambled back but the wolf immediately lost interest in him and charged up the stairs right before Sam’s yell of denial sounded from above him. He would never actually admit that the wolf had led John directly to Sam, saving John precious minutes of extra search time. John had stormed directly into Sam’s bedroom, only to be stopped short, stunned in the doorway.

It was Mary all over again, he thought in horror as the scene before him unfolded. The only difference was the large wolf growling and yanking Sam off the bed directly under the flaming ceiling by grabbing Sam’s jacket with its teeth. In the end, that was the main thing that made John react at all. He’d barely grabbed a hold of Sam and pulled him out of his bedroom before the roof caved in. In all honesty, the wolf was actually the one who saved Sam’s life but, as far as John could tell, Sam wasn’t even aware of it. It was also very unlikely that the wolf survived the cave in.

After talking to the authorities without mentioning the wolf, he turned to study his grown son. He’d never wanted Sam to ever have this kind of pain and he was sorry that there was nothing he could do but be there for him. At least, he was there for Sam, more so now, possibly, because he’d been unable to be there for Dean. He moved to the back of his truck where Sam stared at the scene in complete shock.

“Come on, son,” John ordered briskly, placing a gentle, supporting hand on his shoulder. “We have work to do.”

Sam numbly moved to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door when he distantly heard the familiar growl of an engine. He automatically turned to look up the street and he could have sworn that he caught a brief glance of Dean’s baby passing by. He could almost hear the sound of Metallica floating through the cold night air.

Chapter Text

------------------ SPN --------------------------- SPN -----------------------

Chapter 2 - Adam

“Sam?” John called quickly when he glanced through the cab of the truck and saw a shocked expression on his son’s face. “What is it, son?”

Sam’s surprised eyes clashed with John’s before he stuttered hesitantly, “I-, I-, I thought . . . I thought I saw Dean. Or, at least, the Impala.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, just now. Down there,” Sam added as he pointed to the intersection down the street from the back of the truck. “He just passed by that intersection.” He gave a weak, uncertain laugh then shook his head. “I think . . . I think I might be in shock but where is the Impala?”

John glanced down the street again then back at Sam contemplatively. Finally, he answered, “It hasn’t been seen since Dean . . .” Sam nodded solemnly in understanding then John suggested calmly, “Let’s head out. We need to get you cleaned up and ready for what tomorrow brings. Okay?”

Sam sighed heavily then climbed into the truck cab. John turned slightly and searched the other side of the street for a moment. He motioned with his hand and a shadow broke away from one of the trees down the street from Sam’s old apartment complex. It jogged over to John then swiftly climbed into the truck cab and sat beside Sam before John followed it in.

Sam studied the slender young man sitting beside him, vaguely remembering his father mentioning a partner. He could tell even in the dark cab that the stranger had sandy blonde hair that was similar in color to Dean’s but this guy worn it a couple of inches longer. His hazel eyes met eyes of a similar color which had quickly ran the same assessment over Sam.

“Uh, Dad . . .” Sam started to ask.

John barely glanced at them before he introduced, “Sam, Adam. Adam, Sam.” The two young men only had time to nod at each other before John ordered briskly, “Report.” He reversed his truck and backed away from the scene as they talked.

Adam responded immediately, “Demon signs obviously. No protection anywhere. Huge paw prints around the building with some claw marks on the back door of the building. Looks like the wolf that chased you inside. Caught sight of him after and gave chase but that sucker is a speed demon. Its four legs smoked my two. Tracks led to a parking lot not far from here. Searched the lot perimeter but it didn’t leave so it either stayed on concrete or shifted.”

John frowned then asked, “Sam, have there been any animal attacks on campus recently?” John turned his truck around and headed away from the fire.

“No, none,” Sam responded thoughtfully. “Where are we going?”

John glanced at Sam then told him, “That’s kinda up to you. I don’t know what you want to do here. Of course, I’d like to head to Bobby’s but if you need to stay, you know, to take care of things, we can have Bobby meet us here or something.”

Sam exhaled a shuddering breath, instantly reminded again of the night’s horror. “Yeah, I need to stay. You think it’s the same thing as what took Mom?”

“Yeah, Sam,” John drawled out slowly. “I think it was.”

“Then we need to look into this while I . . . I take care of . . . Jess,” Sam trailed off slowly.

“Okay, we’ll get a motel and get you cleaned up while I call Bobby,” John offered gently. John wasn’t a real touchy feely guy but he knew his son needed him now. Sam was always a lot more emotional than Dean. Man, did he wish Dean was here right now, in so many ways. His chest hurt even more at the thought but he buried it, just like he’d always taught Dean to do.

They found the closest motel and got a room for the night. Adam helped John carry their bags in while Sam sat down in a chair and stared at the wall. Adam got John’s attention then motioned toward Sam.

John sighed heavily then coaxed softly, “Sam, go ahead and get in the shower. I’m going to run get you some clothes really quick while you clean up. I’ll call Bobby while I’m out.” When Sam didn’t respond at all, John grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled up on it.

Sam shrugged him off then stood slowly. “Okay, okay. I’m going. I’m going.”

Once Sam was in the bathroom, John glanced at Adam and verified gruffly, “You going to be okay here with him?”

Adam smirked wryly, “I’m not afraid of Gigantor. I know he’s the pussy cat of the family.”

John smiled slightly and advised wisely, “Well, I wouldn’t tell him that.”

Adam smiled in return then offered solemnly, “I can call Bobby or even head out with him if you want. You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

John arched an eyebrow and pointed out sternly, “You haven’t passed my training protocols yet, boy. Don’t get too cocky.” John ruffled his youngest boy’s hair and added carefully, “I’ll take care of Bobby. I’m going to have him meet us then we’ll all head up to the nest. Together. I know Gordon and I know he probably burned everything to the ground so, even though I’m still going to check it out, Sam really needs us here for him right now.”

Adam arched a cynical eyebrow at John who sighed, “I know. He’s had a really rough time but he’ll be with it more tomorrow. He’ll be very happy, once he gets over the shock of, well, everything. Remember Dean. Now, I’m going to get some food while I’m out. Protect the room and stay inside.” Adam nodded in acquiesce, knowing that he had no choice, and with that John left silently into the night.

Adam quickly protected the room and heard the shower turn on. With a heavy sigh, he plopped on to the bed by the door. He knew his dad would take this bed and he would be stuck with the couch since he was the smallest so he was going to enjoy the bed while he could.

He honestly didn’t want to stay here but knew he didn’t really have a choice. John was right. He still had a lot of training to do and he had already learned, through several bitter experiences, that it was a lot safer hunting in numbers, especially with family.

He did feel sorry for Sam but not overly so since he didn’t really know Sam at all and really didn’t have the need for vengeance against this demon like the rest of his family did. Mainly, he just needed to find Dean. Dean and he had bonded during the time that John had dumped him off with the older son. There was something about Dean that really made Adam feel like everything was going to be okay. He hadn’t felt that way since his mother died. And now Dean had disappeared so he was left floundering again.

Feeling nostalgic and desperately missing his oldest step-brother, Adam pulled out his phone and pulled up his message menu. He plugged in Dean’s name, knowing that he wouldn’t get an answer. He did this sometimes to make himself feel better. It had been over four months since the last time he’d done this but seeing the wolf tonight had reminded him of Dean’s old pet. He smirked slightly as he sent a taunting message that he knew would get under his brother’s skin. ‘Almost caught you tonight, Cujo. Slowing down in your old age. Pussy!’

Adam drew in a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his face, a habit he picked up from Dean who had picked it up from his father. He knew he was being an idiot but what the heck. The wolf had reminded him of Dean’s old ‘pet’. He knew the color was off, way too dark, for Dean’s actual pet but the last time he’d seen a wolf that size Dean had been with him.

Adam set his cell down, mentally shaking his head at himself, and leaned over to his duffle bag. He pulled out Dean’s old leather coat and smelled it, catching the very faint, lingering scent of his older brother that had worked into the leather. He smiled softly then as he felt a little closer to his big brother, even though it was only an illusion. He frowned slightly when he heard his phone buzz. He picked it up and saw that he had a text message. He read it expecting it to be from his dad.

‘N ur dreams, bait boy. Never be that old, bitch.

            It read from Dean. Less than a minute later, his phone buzzed with another text message. He checked that one as well and so that Dean had sent the second one, too.

How’s Sammy?’

Adam froze in shock. For over a year now, he had never gotten a reply. He shook himself and responded quickly. ‘In shock. It was u, wasn’t it? D, where R U?’

After a long agonizing moment, a reply was sent.

‘D is dead. Died over a year ago. There is no D.

A second text followed quickly.

Make Sammy talk about it. Hell open up 2 u after a little while. Dont let him bottle it up. He cant take that. Give him a sappy hug & tell him he is a girl as much as u can. He loves that sort of thing.’

Adam stared for a moment, fixating on the first message. ‘Where’s his body?’  He sent that then added for reaction, ‘Know DOA date from pics found. Need his body.’

If Dean wanted to pretend that he was dead, fine. He should know that they were going to require proof. All of that was redundant, though, now that he knew Dean was still alive. He just wished he knew why Dean had dropped off the grid, like he had.

The next response was quicker than all the others. ‘What pics?’

Adam decided he wanted an answer to the first question before anything else. ‘Body?’

‘Pics?’

‘BODY?’

After a long pause that had Adam holding his breath, hoping he didn’t ruin the only chance he had of finding his brother, the reply came through. ‘Body’s totally FUBAR’d. Only meat 4 animals now. Pics?’

The funny thing was that Adam actually understood that comment so he answered, ‘Sam’s in shower. Will call n 1 hr. Better answer.’  He knew that he had made the right call when he heard the shower cut off inside the bathroom.

’59 min.’

Adam sighed in relief then put his phone back into his jeans pocket.

Sam opened the door with a towel wrapped around his waist. He saw Adam and asked uncertainly, “Dad back?”

Adam shook his head then leaned over and searched through a bag next to his. After a moment, Adam pulled out a pair of boxers, sweatpants and a t-shirt. He tossed them over to Sam, offering easily, “These should work until he gets back.”

Sam missed the clothes because he was staring intently at Adam’s lap. Sam started forward, growling, “That’s his.”

Adam didn’t have to wonder what Sam was talking about. Adam quickly stood up on the far side of the bed away from Sam, holding the jacket tightly in his hands, and nodded abruptly. Adam admitted in a firm, cutting voice, “Yeah, it is. The clothes are his, too. We carry all his gear with us, just in case . . .”

“Just in case we find him,” John finished firmly as he walked into the tense room. Both boys had heard their father coming in but were too caught up in the moment to stop their interaction. Now they both looked at him. He tossed a bag to Sam and ordered, “Get dressed, Sam. Adam, put Dean’s things back in his bag. Sam doesn’t need them but good thinking. Hurry up, Sam. Food’s getting cold.”

Minutes later, they all sat down to eat in silence. After they were done, John and Sam started going over the plans for tomorrow. Apparently they were going to be doing most of the recon together from what Adam overheard, knowing why he was being excluded but not appreciating it one bit.

“So,” Adam interrupted about fifteen minutes before he had to call Dean back. “Since you don’t need me for anything here, want me to head over to Bobby’s? We could go ahead and get started on the nest.”

John turned to his youngest and denied abruptly, “No, Adam. I told you already. You’re not ready.”

Adam scoffed irritably, “According to you, I’ll never be ready but you don’t need me here and Bobby can watch me just as good. Where was the nest anyway?”

“Southern Idaho somewhere but Bobby’s not headed there and we are actually closer than he is. As soon as Gordon drops off the file, Bobby’s headed here then we’re all going together, especially after this. I don’t believe in coincidence. Something’s after us so we are not splitting up. Are we clear?” John snapped in his normal drill sergeant tone of voice.

“Yes, sir,” Adam responded with deep seated resentment.

John ignored it because he was so used to it by now, first from Sam and now from Adam. Dean was the only one who didn’t fight him at every turn. He was successful in his endeavor to keep Adam in line until the boy stood up suddenly. “Where do you think you’re going?” He bit out harshly.

“To get some ice and a coke, if that’s alright with you,” Adam grumbled then added sarcastically, just to push buttons. “Sir.”

John glared slightly then checked firmly, “Armed?”

Adam pulled his gun out from the back of his jeans and showed his father. “Always.” John nodded so Adam put his gun away and grabbed the ice bucket before slamming out of the room. John sighed heavily and closed his eyes with a brief plea for patience, thinking to himself, I’m getting too old for this. Feel like that old cop in that show Dean used to watch all the time. Who was that . . .

“Dad?” Sam called softly.

John shook himself mentally and looked over at Sam’s weary, pain-filled eyes. “Yeah, son? What is it?”

“Who is that boy and exactly why is he with you?”

Chapter Text

Adam found a good hiding spot where he was isolated and could watch what was going on around him. He didn’t want to be overheard. He wasn’t sure why he was so worried and nervous but he did know that he didn’t want Sam or John to know what he was doing. At least, not now, not until he knew all the facts, like if it really was Dean, and if so, what the hell was he doing?

He dialed Dean’s cell phone number and nervously waited for someone to pick up. He heard the line open and waited. For a long moment, there was no noise, not even breathing. After glancing at his cell phone screen to make sure that the lines were still connected, he took a chance and clarified hesitantly, “De-?”

A harsh, raspy voice interrupted abruptly, “No.”

“Then who?”

“Pics?”

“First, who is this?”

He heard a harsh, exasperated sigh on the other side before he heard the voice demand once again, “Pics?”

“Hanging up now,” Adam threatened darkly.

“Why?”

Maybe it was all the stress from the past week, no, year, but Adam would have sworn he heard a trace of amusement underneath the rasp in the voice. “Because I know my brother and his voice, Dean,” he bluffed boldly, going for reaction. He thought he heard a brief huff of laughter on the other end.

“You don’t know jack, short stack,” the voice snarked then sighed with resignation. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news but your brother is dead.”

“Oh, yeah? When did he die?” Adam demanded tauntingly, calling the other’s bluff. Short stack was one of Dean’s nicknames for him so either this was Dean or it had Dean’s memories. He was opting for the former, even though the voice was slightly off, like Dean was sick or something.

“Over a year ago. Don’t know the exact date. Was never one to remember chick-flicks like that,” the voice answered in a very blasé manner.

“Chick-flicks?” Adam clarified incredulously.

“Yeah, chick-flicks,” it reaffirmed. “You know, anniversaries, birthdays, cards, flowers, presents, yadda, yadda, yadda . . . chick-flicks. All of them. Never had a need for them. Any of them,” the voice rambled sarcastically. “Course you were always more of a chick, weren’t you, Ponyboy.” Once again, the voice used one of Dean’s nicknames for him ever since Adam made him watch the Outsiders because he didn’t want to watch that same Simpsons episode anymore.

“Whatever, Soda. I know my brother’s voice,” Adam insisted again. “And if he’s dead, where’s his body?”

There was a long pause then a very resigned sigh, “Fine. Who knew you’d be so damn stubborn but then you are a Winchester, aren’t you? Even if you have a different last name. Still need to change that. Fine. You’re right. His body won’t be found for a while. I’m, well, I’m kinda borrowing it, with permission, naturally. Actually, it was more of a last request, I guess. After I finish what I started, his body will be returned to the family. Yadda, yadda. yadda,” it rambled sardonically.

“Demon? Ghost?” Adam guessed angrily, completely pissed off that some creature was out there wearing his brother’s body.

“Not even close, short fry. They don’t have a name for what I am so don’t strain that little peabrain of yours. Time’s running out. I’ve answered your question, more than one, actually, now answer mine. Pics?” The voice snapped irritably.

Adam thought for a moment then finally answered menacingly, “Fine, but I’m not letting this go. Not until I get my brother back.”

“Not possible anymore,” the voice whispered softly, almost to itself.

Adam ignored that then told it everything that he knew about the pics. The voice responded almost like it was talking to itself. “The DOA date is probably as close as you’ll get to the truth. Figures that Bobby would be getting them. Don’t know Gordon, though. Have to check that one out.”

“It sounded like they thought he destroyed everything that he didn’t take,” Adam threw in.

“If it was a vamp nest, that would have been standard protocol. Burning everything in the area is best plan when you are dealing with those blood-suckers. Still needs to checked out, though. Any idea when Gordon and Bobby were meeting?”

“Not that they told me,” Adam admitted honestly, wondering why he was being so open with something that could have possibly killed his older brother.

“You’re far too trusting, buddy-boy. Someone needs to smack that naivety right out of you,” the voice commented wryly, like it was reading his mind. It was eerie how much the thing sounded like Dean. It could even get into his mind like Dean could.

“How?” Adam wondered insecurely.

“You’re very easy to read.”

“What do I call you?” Adam asked in a small voice.

            “You don’t,” the voice commanded harshly. “It’s not safe.”

            “For who?”

            “Anyone,” it snapped irately, There was another pause then he elaborated slightly with a huff, “You and your family are dealing with something that will get you all killed or worse.”

            “What’s worse than –“

            “There is a lot worse,” the voice bit out menacingly. “Dean would tell you that if he could. He would have begged for death more than a thousand times over, if he’d been given even half a chance. He was sent to Hell before he had even died. Never had any clue what Hell actually was until then. He doesn’t want that for you. For any of you.”

After another brief pause, it continued with more restraint, “As long as any of you have pics or search for anyone missing, you are all in danger. They will come after you. The best thing you could do for Dean now is protect Sam and your dad. Don’t let them look for him, either. That would have been his last wish. Can you do that?”

Adam swallowed thickly. The barely restrained emotion and pain within the voice touched him deeply. He could hear the genuine warning in its words so he asked hoarsely, “How? How am I supposed to do that? If you think I can keep Dad from looking for Dean, you don’t know my dad, at all.”

There was another exasperated exhale on the other end then it answered softly, “You’re right. You’re right, but you can distract them.”

“How?” Adam insisted helplessly.

“Hunts. Have them hunt down every supernatural SOB that’s between clues. As many as you can for as long as you can. I’ll keep trying to keep clues from getting out. Have a lot of help with that,” it added with wry sarcasm.

It clicked for Adam then and he snapped angrily, “You kept us from finding him.”

“Lately? Yeah,” it admitted truthfully. “Before? Not so much.”

After a long moment, Adam finally asked, “Is he . . . is he at least at peace?”

The response took a long while before it was gritted out bitterly, seemingly against its will. “Peace hasn’t been an option for him since he was four.”

Adam heard the sudden click on the other end and knew that his time was up. He exhaled a long shaky breath and tried to sort out his feelings. He had no idea what he was feeling. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what all had just happened.

In spite of what the voice on the other end had told him, he knew that the voice belonged to Dean, the real Dean, his brother, not a creature wearing him. He felt his eyes burn and water flowed to them in an attempt to ease the fire but he didn’t let the tears fall. He knew his brother was out there, even if he wasn’t the same Dean that had been taken from him. He could hear the pain, fatigue and hopelessness within the voice and knew that Dean wished that he was able to be here with them. It hurt thinking of Dean feeling that way, being that way, and not his normal cocky, devil-may-care self. Adam just needed to figure out what he had to do to get that Dean back and make Dean’s wish to come true.

“There you are.” Adam jumped slightly as he saw John approach him. John quickly scanned his son and wondered with concern, “What happened, Adam? Are you okay?”

Adam swallowed hard before answering thickly, “Yeah. I’m fine.” He blinked back the tears and started toward the ice machine, and excuse, that he’d forgotten about. He still needed to think about all this, by himself. He knew that John wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t trust it, and Sam was in too much pain.

John sighed wearily. He really hated these touchy-feely moments but he finally acknowledged that some needed to happen, especially when bringing Adam and Sam into this new family dynamic. As he followed Adam to the ice machine, he offered uncertainly, “Look, I wasn’t trying to cut you out back there. It’s just, well, Sammy and I . . .”

“Don’t, Dad,” Adam interrupted instantly. “It’s not that. I know about the fight when he left and all that.”

“How?”

“Dean,” Adam admitted softly then shook his head. The ice filled the bucket as he continued, “It’s not that. I just really want to . . .”

“Find Dean,” John finished sadly. “I know. I want that, too . . .”

“But we need to be here for Sam,” Adam cut in while he got a coke. “Look, we are on the same page. It’s just hard to be hanging out in the room all day waiting. I feel like we are getting further behind.”

John sighed then grabbed the ice bucket and walked back to the room with Adam. “I know, son.  I feel the same way.”

“I just don’t feel for this demon like the rest of you do and I probably won’t ever,” Adam finally admitted hesitantly.

John paused outside their room and studied Adam thoughtfully. He exhaled heavily, “Yeah. I can get that, Adam. But, remember, you’ve already gotten your revenge on your mother’s killers. Your brothers haven’t. I’m sure you can at least sympathize.”

Adam gave a weak smile. “Yeah. I can do that.” He studied his father a moment then asked, “Just do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Take a shower. You’re really starting to reek, dude,” Adam teased playfully.

John gently cuffed him on the head and insulted, “Wiseass. Get inside.”

They both entered the room and John announced that he was going to take a shower. He grabbed his things and shut himself into the bathroom. Adam locked up and protected the room again.

Finally he glanced at Sam sitting hunched over on the far bed and plopped himself down on the other bed with his back against the headboard. He grabbed the remote and started flipping though the stations. He couldn’t find anything on so he settled on a repeat Simpsons that he’d seen way too many times.

He glanced over at Sam again and saw that Sam was actually looking at him for a change. He gave a slight smile before telling Sam seriously, “I’m really sorry for what happened tonight, Sam.”

Sam waved his hand dismissively and turned on the bed to face Adam. “So . . . it appears we are brothers.”

Adam gave a slightly smirk before snarking, “Yeah, small world and all that, I suppose. Seven degrees of Kevin Bacon.”

“I didn’t . . .” Sam trailed off hopelessly. He’d had one too many shocks tonight.

Adam waved his hand dismissively. “I know. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad John was close enough for the call for a change. Normally, I only saw him once a year or so but he was in the area on another case and I was able to stay alive long enough. . .”

Sam sighed heavily, “Yeah. Your mom. Sorry.”

Adam attempted a half shrug but it was a weak attempt. It still hurt. “I would say it gets better but . . . well, some days it is and some days . . .” He shook his head, unable to voice words to describe what he felt. He mentally redirected his thoughts like his older brother had taught him. Of the two hunters who had trained him, he much preferred Dean’s style and learned those lessons much better, much easier than John’s.

Adam continued wryly, “Hunts help distract me. Of course, I have over seventeen years of training to make up for so I normally don’t have a lot of time to think about it, you know?”

Sam gave a very weak smile and nodded slightly. “Yeah, I’ll bet.” He thought for a moment before he commented dryly, “I’m actually surprised that he didn’t just dump you with Dean. That’s what he always did with me.”

Adam gave him a sharp look then moved his gaze back to the TV. He had no earthly idea where to go after that comment. When was he ever going to figure out this new family of his? What the hell was up with all the freakin’ secrets?

Sam cursed and snapped out with angry disbelief, “He did, didn’t he?”

            Adam flinched slightly and was very relieved that his father exited the shower at that precise moment dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

            Sam swirled his head to his new target. “How could you?”

            John stopped for a moment at the force of the attack before he sighed heavily, “What now?”

            Sam shot to his feet and attacked verbally, “Like it wasn’t enough that you made Dean raise me, you had to make him raise Adam, too. Couldn’t you just let him live his life for himself for even a few years? You’re the parent, for God’s sake. If you’re going to have kids, you should be the one to raise them yourself, Dad. Dean sacrificed enough for us. Why would you – How could -?” Sam sputtered to a stop. Suddenly everything was just too much for him as the room started to spin.

            John immediately grabbed his son’s arms and slowly lowered him down to the bed. Once John saw that Sam could stay upright, he moved to sit on the bed that Adam occupied. He faced Sam leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

            John ran a hand over his face before he countered patiently, “It wasn’t like that, Sam. My plan was to train Adam myself. I mean, when have I ever thought Dean was better at training? You know he was always too damn soft on you. And Adam didn’t need to be raised, just trained. He was already a grown man after what he went through. I only wanted to make sure he could survive but I wasn’t going to leave Dean out of it. So I introduced the boys and we all agreed to head over to Bobby’s for training. We all stayed there together for a month or so then . . .”

            “Let me guess, hunts came up,” Sam snarked irately.

            John glared at him but conceded easily, “Yeah, Sam, hunts came up. Dean wanted to do them but I didn’t want him out there alone. I never wanted him hunting alone but the hunts started with helping Bobby out then helping someone else out and life just happens.”

            “When did you finally leave him alone with another younger brother?” Sam snapped, not wanting to understand.

            “I left for a hunt a month after we got there and, well, it went south. I’m not sure . . .”

            Adam cut in, “Dean lasted two days of Dad not checking in before he had to go after him. I wouldn’t let him go alone and Bobby was out getting parts. Now I know he planned it that way. I put up a fight and he decked me, stating that if he could take me out within two punches, I would only be a liability. It only took him one. Never saw it coming.”

            “A week later, Dean barely made it back with Dad,” Adam stated, clearly still upset over the memory. “There was so much blood on both of them.” He shook off the images. He stared at the TV as he finished. “Not another week went by before Dad wanted Dean to take him back to where he’d found him so that they could kill the SOB. Bobby and I told them both no. Still not sure how but they managed to leave without us knowing. Another week and they come crawling back. This time, Dad wasn’t so bad but Dean . . . Then Bobby explained how this was normal. That Dean always had to save everyone, no matter what. Bobby met them at the door with his shotgun. It was pointed at Dad but Dean took it to mean him too.”

            Adam finally turned to Sam and clarified firmly, “I left with them and stayed with Dean until he was better while Dad worked at odd jobs. A week later, we all sat down and decided to split up. Dad had a lead on the demon and Dean had found a hunt in the opposite direction. I chose to go with Dean. We all agreed on it, Sam. Dean even encouraged it so if you lay this one on Dad, it’s because it’s what you want and had nothing to do with facts.”

            “Yeah, Dean had to watch out for me on hunts as I learned but you know yourself that from the moment I met him, he wouldn’t have done anything else. You know that. That was just Dean.”

            Sam sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right. He wouldn’t have done any different. Probably took you to bars and get you laid, too.” Adam smirked knowingly and Sam threw up his hands, stating quickly and adamantly, “I so don’t want to know.”

            “But I so want to tell you, Sammy,” Adam taunted automatically, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

            Sam stared at him as his jaw dropped in shock. “Dude!”

            Adam gave a bark of laughter before he shook his head. “Sorry. Definitely channel him at the weirdest moments.”

            “Ain’t that the truth,” John muttered wryly with a hint of sadness. “He’s gotten me a few times, too. Shocked the hell out of me.”

            “It sounded just like him,” Sam whispered softly.

            Adam gave a half shrug, somewhat embarrassed by it all. “What can I say? I really tried to learn everything he would teach me.” He wasn’t going to say how much he totally idolized the man. Dean was everything he’d ever wanted in a sibling, aside from the damn excessive martyr complex.

            “You couldn’t have had a better teacher,” Sam advised honestly.

            “He always said that he learned from the best,” Adam added, feeling slightly for his dad.

            John gave him a slight smile in acknowledgement before he suggested, “Let’s get some sleep. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

            “I got the couch,” Adam offered automatically, knowing he was the smallest of them all. So it made the most sense.

            Sam halfheartedly tried to argue but everyone ignored him. John tossed Adam a pillow and blanket then they all went to sleep. They were only woken up a couple of times during the night by Sam’s nightmares.

            ***********

            John and Sam slammed into the room a little after two the next day. John threw his keys onto the counter and stormed into the bathroom. Adam clicked off the TV and peeked over at Sam before making his way over to the table where Sam was setting their food out. Adam got some beers out of the frig.

            Adam arched an eyebrow and asked casually, “Bad day?”

            Sam winced slightly as he opened his food and told Adam, “Bobby called. Apparently he was jumped not long after he got the pics. When he came to, he found out his room had been ransacked and everything was gone except for his gear. Whoever it was took all the information he had with him but nothing else. No money, weapons, nothing else. Needless to say, we’ve lost the lead on Dean and Dad is –“

The sound of glass breaking sounded throughout the room.

“Pissed,” Adam finished easily. He sighed heavily then started to eat. He knew who took the pics. Yeah, he wasn’t a rocket scientist but he didn’t have to be for this. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the situation. He really didn’t but somehow it felt like the right thing.

John came out and sat down heavily at the table. His right hand was wrapped in gauze. He took a long drink of his beer that Adam had opened for him.

Adam glanced at him and he offered, “We are still going to check out the nest after this, right?”

John glanced at his youngest then slowly nodded his head, “Yeah. We’re still going to check it out. After the funeral. Bobby’s still headed this way, too.”

Sam met their eyes briefly. Although his eyes were reddened by unshed tears, they both could see the gratitude in them. They both nodded slightly before resuming their meals, knowing that they all had to eat, even though none of them really wanted to.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - Wendigos

Deep down it made Adam feel better sending texts to Dean’s phone, even though the sentiment was definitely one sided. Dean never picked up when Adam called since that one time and he never responded to any of the texts but it still made Adam feel better. He sent coordinates once the family started moving again. They had searched the empty nest with no luck after staying at Stanford a week looking into Sam’s girlfriend’s death, again with no luck. On their way back from the nest, they stumbled onto a hunt after Bobby had already headed back to his place in Sioux Falls.

They were currently in Black Water Ridge, Colorado, stuck in the middle of the woods with a pair of siblings that contained a sister Adam was completely sure that Dean would be hitting on, if he was here. The siblings were of course looking for their missing brother and the rest of his camping party. Needless to say, they could all relate to each other.

Based on their research and the campsite, John and Sam quickly figure out what they are hunting, a Wendigo. Oh, joy. Another new one for Adam. Awesome. And it could only be killed by fire. Even better. Amiright?

They lost their guide, Roy, during the night because he was a skeptical moron and all around idiot but they stay inside their protection circle until daybreak. At first light, they headed out, intent on finding the beast’s lair. Their purpose was, of course, to rescue whoever they could and get out of the woods by night fall. Ah, the best laid plans.

They were only slightly armed with homemade devices which meant that John had one and Sam had the other. Adam, being the youngest of the family and least experienced, didn’t have one. They hoped to find some missing campers on the way so they followed the trail of claw marks until John stopped suddenly and realized they’d been lead into a trap. He spied the creature ahead of him and took off after it, yelling out the order, “Find its nest. Go. Now.”

Sam grabbed Haley’s hand and lead the way to the west of where John had charged. Adam trailed behind covering everyone’s back while Ben followed Sam and Haley. Adam saw that they were falling behind and was about to yell at Ben to go faster when he saw Ben trip and fall to the ground. Adam quickly grabbed Ben’s shoulders and hauled him up, shouting, “Run. Hurry.”

They both heard Haley scream and charged forward in unison. They paused where they thought she should be and checked the area. Adam frowned when he spotted Sam’s left shoe on the ground. He glanced at Ben then ordered in warning, “Look out!”

Adam sprinted forward to knock Ben out of the way of the wendigo charging forward. The wendigo swung its arm in an arc that allowed it claws to scratch into Adam’s left side and throw Adam at a nearby tree. Adam yelped in pain as he felt his back connect abruptly with the tree. He was definitely going to have bruises in the morning. He also lost all the air in his body and couldn’t do anything about it but lay there, stunned with pain.

The wendigo grabbed his left ankle and yanked Adam up, twisting his ankle into an unnatural position. Adam yelped again before gritting his teeth together against the flaring pain. He palmed his gun which was loaded with silver bullets, even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good.  He shot at the claw that held him and was rewarded when the creature roared in pain. Unfortunately, it dropped him on his head and the gun fell out of his hand. Rookie mistake number one.

Adam cursed his bad luck while he quickly crawled back and away from the creature as fast as he could. He felt hands helping, pulling him from behind, and knew that Ben was trying to help him. Adam gritted his teeth and ordered firmly, “Run. Get out of here. Now. Save yourself.”

The creature growled and focused his angry, hungry gaze on them as it started forward toward them. Adam was sure that he was dead. He only wished that Ben would just make a run for it but he felt the tensed muscles in the arm around him and knew that Ben was in too much shock to move much. Adam palmed his silver knife.

It’s not much but what the hell, Adam thought grimly. Might as well go down swinging.

The creature was closing the distance between them and Adam tried to stand up but a heavy weight landed on his lap while a dark shape flew over his head simultaneously. Adam blinked in surprise because suddenly the wendigo had hair.

No, wait, a fur cap? What the f . . ., Adam wondered to himself.

Adam shook his head slightly, thinking he’d hit his head too hard when he’d landed, then blinked again and saw that a very large dark brown wolf had apparently attached itself to the wendigo’s head. He finally made that out when the wendigo grabbed the wolf’s tail and yanked it off, earning another pained scream from the wendigo.

The wendigo tossed the wolf toward the trees where he heard it yelp in pain. But the wolf didn’t stay down more than a second before it charged a tree right behind the creature. Using the tree to rebound, it jumped up onto the back of the wendigo.

“What the hell is going on?” Ben whispered in a strained voice under the sounds of the growling, fighting creatures. “Can we go now? Can you move?”

Adam shook himself and moved to stand, only to notice a small black string backpack in his lap. He swiftly opened the pack and searched inside. He let out an excited hiss, “Yes!”

            Adam grabbed the flare gun from inside the pack and quickly checked to see if it was loaded and ready before he aimed the gun at the wendigo. The wendigo raked its claw down the wolf’s side and was rewarded when the wolf whimpered in pain, but it didn’t let go of the wendigo. So, the wendigo grabbed its right rear flank and yanked the wolf off of its shoulder where the wolf had sunk its teeth. The creature yelled again at the pain resulting from the wolf taking a chunk of meat with it as it was yanked away. The wendigo then batted the wolf into the trees again.

            Adam didn’t hear the wolf’s yelp this time because he shot the flare gun at that exact moment. His aim was exact as the flame started burning the wendigo from the inside out. With one final scream, the wendigo erupted into flames and quickly became a pile of ash.

            Adam exhaled a huge sigh of relief then he heard a mix between a low growl and a low pain-filled groan. He froze and felt Ben do the same while the huge wolf slowly lumbered to its feet. It looked them dead in the eye before starting toward them. Adam knew the flare gun was empty and glanced around for his real gun. He spotted it by the pile of ash.

            “I’ll get it,” Ben whispered fearfully as he slowly edged out from under Adam.

            The wolf cocked his head slightly to the side as if he was trying to hear them better then stared at them curiously. At Ben’s words, it glanced at the Adam’s gun then back to the boys. It huffed out a breath, apparently in exasperation, and Adam thought it rolled its eyes at him then slowly lowered itself to the ground to its knees and carefully edged forward with a slight plaintive whimper.

            Adam frowned slightly and put a hand up to stop Ben. “Hold up a minute. I think it’s friendly.”

            In response, the wolf’s tail wagged behind it as it crept close enough to touch its nose to Adam’s finger. It nudged the hand with a whimper and Adam slowly lifted his hand. The wolf placed its head under the hand and rubbed against it, still whining softly.

            Adam smiled slightly and moved to pet the animal that had just saved his life. He felt the wolf’s whimpers turn into a pleased rumble deep in its chest. Adam scratched the wolf behind the ear and told Ben, “It saved us. It’s not going to hurt us.”

            The wolf seemed to nod and nudged Adam in the ribs. It sniffed at the wounds and whimpered in concern. Then the wolf licked Adam on the face.

            “Ew, doggy breath,” Adam grumbled. “Down, Cujo.”

            The wolf cocked his head to the side then glanced around before he nudged Ben’s shoulder. Ben reached out a shaky hand and petted the wolf’s head which earned him a pleased rumble, too, before the wolf nudged him again.

            “Uh, Adam?”

            “Yeah, I think it’s telling us that we should get going and it’s right. Get my gun for me, will ya?” Adam asked as he started to stand up. Ben tried to help him while the wolf stood firm on his other side, supporting him as best it could. Once he put weight on his left ankle, Adam gritted his teeth and groaned, unable to stand on it.

            The wolf glanced up and seemed to question him with a cocked head. Adam petted its head and told it firmly, “I’ll make it. I have to find Sam and Ben’s sister. They were taken.”

            Ben left Adam with only the wolf to support Adam as he quickly grabbed Adam’s gun. Adam slung the small backpack over his shoulder after reloading the flare gun. Then Ben came back and pulled one of Adam’s arms over his shoulder.

            They had only gone a few yards before the terrain and pain in Adam’s ankle became too much. Adam tried to hide it from the other two but figured he didn’t do a good enough job when the wolf suddenly huffed out a growl. The wolf tossed his head hard against Adam’s thigh then slowed Adam’s fall when its teeth grabbed his left sleeve.

            Ben, however, fell hard and growled irritably, “What happened?”

            Adam panted with pain, “Sorry. Can’t. Hurts.”

            The wolf nudged Adam into a more comfortable position while Ben crawled out from under Adam’s limbs. It whined slightly while it hovered over Adam then it flopped down beside his injured side. It nudged the injury softly with its nose smelling it.

            Adam flinched slightly then petted its head. “Easy, boy. Listen, can you lead Ben out of here? He really needs to find his sister.”

            “What?” Ben demanded. “Look, I really want to find Haley. I do, but I’m not just going to leave you here, alone and injured.” Amazingly, the wolf seemed to look at him in approval before lowering its head again.

            Adam rolled his eyes and argued reasonably, “We killed the wendigo. I’ll be okay and Dad should be back soon. Wha- hey, that tickles, and hurts, kinda, Lassie.” Adam glared at the wolf that was licking his wounds. “Don’t you have your own to clean?”

            Adam started to push the wolf’s head away when Ben stopped him. “That will actually clean out the wounds better than we can do right now. Let it. And I’m not leaving you.”

            Adam rolled his eyes and leaned back. Ben moved him next to a tree to prop him up. The wolf followed while it continued to care for Adam’s wounds.

            The wolf had finished and had laid its head on Adam’s lap to rest when they heard another growling creature approach. The wolf shot to its feet then quickly placed itself in between the boys and the new menace. Both boys pulled their guns and readied themselves.

            A large brown grizzly standing on its hind feet stormed out of the trees. It let loose a large menacing growl. It started to fall down to all four legs but it didn’t get that far before the wolf launched itself at the bear’s neck where it met its left shoulder.

            The bear roared in surprise then rolled and shook the wolf off into a huge tree nearby. The wolf yelped and twisted suddenly. Once again, it charged and used a tree to help launch itself onto the bear’s back. The bear bucked up hard and the wolf flew over its head, flipped then landed into an attack position in front of the boys again.

            The wolf growled menacingly in warning, but the bear just sat down with a huff. It looked to Adam as if the bear actually rolled its eyes. Adam glanced back at the wolf and saw that its tail was wagging.

“What the hell, Balto?” Adam growled.

            The wolf glanced back and seemed to grin at Adam before it stared at the bear then slowly approached it. They stared at each other for a long moment before the wolf led the bear back to the boys. The bear sniffed them slightly then laid down beside them. The wolf stared meaningfully at Adam who nodded in understanding, “A changing of the guard, huh? Alright.”

            The wolf huffed then stared at the bear one more time before it took off like a shot in the direction that the bear had come from.

            “Was it just me, or did they seem to be talking to each other?” Adam asked Ben who only shrugged helplessly. All of this was so out of his comfort zone that it wasn’t even funny. Both boys sighed heavily and tried to rest.

            About ten minutes later, they heard a gunshot and a yelp in the distance. The bear, who had been a really great heater, lumbered to its feet and shook itself. It stared at Adam for a moment before trotting off in the opposite direction.

            Not two minutes later, the wolf came tearing through the trees fast. It was apparently being chased by a hunter. It was going too fast for a normal turn so it jumped up onto a tree near the boys to rebound in the direction that the bear had gone.

            A shot sounded right at the rebound moment and the wolf yelped then stumbled slightly before it landed. Adam glanced over and saw his father with his gun out. Adam shouted quickly, “Dad, no! Don’t!”, as he scrambled to get in the way, ignoring the pain in his ankle.

            John stared at him in shock then glanced back at the wolf over Adam’s shoulder. Adam turned and looked as well. He saw the wolf stop about a hundred yards away and stare at them. The bear was standing behind the wolf before it grumbled. Then both animals turned and trotted away, disappearing into the underbrush within seconds.

            “Adam,” John questioned in confusion, “What? Where is Sam? Are you limping?”

            ***************

            Pain exploded in his head as Sam quickly regained consciousness. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking in the darkness of the cave. Bit by bit, he came to be aware of his surroundings. He heard water dripping with an echo so he guessed that he was probably a cave. The wendigo’s cave. It was all coming back to him now. Unfortunately.

            He shifted slightly and felt the pull in his shoulders and arms. Hung up, like slabs of meat. Great. That’s just great. He knew that he really needed to get out of here, wherever here was. He stared up at the ropes holding him and tested their strength again, trying to ignore the pain all of it caused his head, arms and upper body.

            Suddenly he heard a deep rumbling growl echoing throughout the cave and coming closer. He was running out of time. Something sounded hungry and was headed his way. He glanced around, ignoring the pounding in his head, but he had nothing, especially within reach. He closed his eyes briefly to calm himself so that he could think then opened them again, not willing to just give up without a fight.

            He jumped slightly in surprise when something pressed against the back of his legs at the same time that two paws pressed against his shoulders. All of the sudden, he stared into two dark eyes, barely making out what might have been a wolf’s face, before he felt a cold wet long nose nuzzle his chin gently. It whimpered slightly then stretched out his neck and he felt something tug on the ropes holding him up.

            As his mind tried to wrap around the fact that a large, probably man-eating, wolf was apparently trying to free him. While being stunned over that fact, he wondered why this wolf would do that and where the wendigo was. Then gravity did its job and he was carefully lowered to the floor. He turned to see what was behind him and shrank back away instinctively from the very large grizzly that seemed to grumble at him as if he had insulted it or something.

            “Okay, I definitely hit my head too hard,” Sam muttered to himself.

            He could have sworn that he heard the wolf chuff slightly so he turned to see the two animals work as a team to get Haley down the same way. He knew that Haley probably wouldn’t react too well to this process if she woke up during it so he hurried over to help them, only swaying slightly on the way. Finally, Sam and the animals freed Haley’s brother, Tommy, who was the only other survivor of the original campers.

            Sam quickly searched through the packs that were left in the area and grabbed up the flare gun he found. He called out to Haley and her brother who were starting to wake up now, “Got a flare gun. Want to get out of here?”

            “Definitely,” the other two agreed vehemently as they helped each other stand while keeping a cautious eye on the two animals.  

            The wolf and the bear moved to the front of the nook that they were currently in. The wolf sniffed the air then moved his head to the left and the bear moved that way. The wolf glanced back to see Sam watching it. Sam nodded in understanding.

            “Where did that come from?” Haley wondered softly as she moved up behind Sam. She and her brother supported each other as they went. Neither one took their eyes off of the animal in front of them.

            Sam sighed as he moved to follow the wolf, “Believe it or not, it freed me and you so at this point I’m inclined to follow its lead.” The siblings glanced each other then followed close behind Sam when another more familiar wendigo growl sounded.

            Sam kept the wolf in sight until it stopped at an intersection. It glanced back at Sam and motioned with his head to go forward then waited. Sam nodded and the wolf took off to the left with a large yelp. Sam shook his head at the eerie humanlike wolf.

            Sam led the others in the direction that they were supposed to go. They heard the wolf and the bear, trying to get the wendigo’s attention. He couldn’t tell if they were succeeding or not. He got turned around and wound up staring right into the wendigo’s eyes. It stood thirty yards in front of him.

            It roared in victory and started to charge the group when a dark blur knocked it into the side of the tunnel wall. He heard a yelp as something heavy hit another wall. The wendigo regained its balance but the distraction had allowed Sam enough time to aim his shot. For the second time that day, a wendigo went up in smoke.

            Sam glanced back and asked, “Everyone okay?” They nodded both so Sam turned back around. He saw the wolf standing where the wendigo was and it stared at him. Sam quickly moved toward the wolf which immediately started limping in the direction of the exit. Or, at least, Sam hoped that was where it was headed.

            He frowned in concern as he watched the wolf limp ahead of him with only the occasional whimper sounding out of it. He wished that it would stop so that he could see how bad its back leg was. He tried to call it, but it ignored him, pushing itself forward, always keeping the same distance ahead.

            Suddenly Sam could smell fresh air and, when they turned the corner, he could see a light at the end of the tunnel which wasn’t a train this time. The wolf was halfway to the exit when it froze suddenly, like it was afraid. He saw its head swivel around, searching for an exit, and then it burst into a full speed dash through the exit.

            Right when it got to the entrance of the cave, Sam saw his father stepped through the threshold. The wolf jumped up and knocked John down before it disappeared into the afternoon sunlight. Sam heard a distant yelp then John swearing loudly, “Damn it. I don’t care what you say, Adam. I’m going to kill that SOB as soon as we free Sam.”

            Sam sincerely hoped that the wolf could disappear quickly because Sam really owed it a couple huge ones at this point.

Chapter Text

Adam had a hard time believing it but apparently losing his mother the way that he did really helped him relate to the next hunt. He bonded with Lucas in a way very similar to the way he bonded with Dean. He almost felt like Dean was guiding him through it all which only made him miss Dean that much more in the end.

            John had taken off after a lead on the demon alone when he sent his boys to deal with a call for help from a previous hunt. They still hadn’t turned up any leads on Dean so Adam was okay with it. Or, at least, he was okay until they had to exorcise the demon at forty thousand feet. Now, he had something in common with Dean that Sam never knew about. A severe fear of flying.

            Their next job gave him a very healthy fear of mirrors. And even more questions about Sam’s mental health. Of course, that wasn’t quite as troubling as what he was learning about some of Sam’s old college buddies.

            *******

            Sam groaned at the pain clamoring in his head like little gnome blacksmiths pounding on anvils. He carefully opened his eyes and blinked rapidly while he attempted to clear his vision. He briefly scanned the area and concluded that he was underground in the sewers again, in some kind of work area, judging by the workbench and supplies. Memory of the shape shifter who had looked exactly like his brother, Adam, returned to his mind at about the same time as he heard someone walking out from behind some shelves to the right of him.

            Sam froze incredulously while his mind went completely blank. His disbelieving eyes stared desperately at the exact image of his older brother, Dean. His heart ached so much that he had a hard time breathing for a moment. He wanted Dean back so badly that, for a moment, he had completely forgotten about the shifter.

            Dean, in return, stopped stock still at Sam’s stunned stare and returned the stare for a long moment, ignoring the rope in his hands, before he started walking casually toward Sam. One hand dropped the rope down on his shoulder to hold it at his side. All the while, he quickly moved closer to Sam.

When he stood directly in front of Sam, he stopped less than a foot away from him. He stared down at him for another long moment then pulled back his hand and backhanded Sam across his face. Dean smirked down at him evilly.

            “Where is he? Where’s Dean?” Sam demanded tightly, ignoring the pain flaring through his face and head.

            “I wouldn’t worry about him. I’d worry about you,” Shifter Dean advised casually.

            “Where is he?” Sam repeated impatiently.

            “You don’t really wanna know.” He answered knowingly then moved back and walked over to a wooden work table that was attached to the opposite wall. “I swear, the more I learn about you and your family – I thought I came from a bad background.”

            “What do you mean, ‘learn’?”

            The Shifter Dean closed his eyes for a long moment and slowly pressed a few fingers to his forehead with an intense look of concentration before he answered with soft amazement, “Man, he’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?”

            “Where is my brother?” Sam questioned again, emphasizing each word firmly.

            “I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak and, sooner or later, everyone’s going to leave me,” Shifter Dean snapped firmly.

            “What are you talking about?” Sam demanded irritably, wondering where the hell all this was coming from.

Surely, Dean, his Dean, didn’t feel that way. Hell, Dean had dropped out of school his senior year because he was so far behind it wasn’t even funny. That’s what happens when someone spends all his time sleeping in class, skipping class, ignoring homework and banging chicks, Sam thought cynically.

“You left,” Shifter Dean continued with resigned cynicism. “Hell, I did everything that Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation. Nothing. Just poof. Left me with your sorry ass.”

            “But, still, this life – it’s not without its perks. I meet the nicest people - like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens,” the shifter ended wickedly before tossing an old dust cover over him.

*******

            Adam had listened to the entire conversation while he sat still under his own dust cover. He wondered why the shifter was in Dean’s skin. That had to mean that Dean was in the area, right?

            Adam’s heart pounded in excitement at the prospect of being so close to his long, lost brother. It pounded so hard, in fact, that he had a hard time concentrating on the conversation between the shifter and Sam. He also kept hearing slight shuffling noise to the other side of him but, every time he tried to focus on it, it would stop and he would return his attention to Sam.

            About the time he heard the shifter talk about Becky, Rebecca, he felt something very cold and hard touch his hand. Something that felt like a sticky hand forced his hand to close around a knife, he now realized. He gripped the knife tightly and the other hand quickly fell away. A rushed scuffling sound moved away while he immediately worked on the rope, tying him to the shelves.

            During the process of freeing himself, the dust cover fell away and he glanced around at his surroundings. He noticed a lot of blood on the floor near him on the side that the knife had come from and saw that it trailed away, leading out of the room. He heard Sam wiggling around behind him and stood as soon as he freed himself.

            He hurried over to Sam, asking swiftly, “Are you okay?”

            “Adam,” Sam greeted with relief. “Are you okay? How did you get here?”

            “He nabbed me first. I’ve been back there, tied up, while you were talking to him. You didn’t answer my question,” Adam observed darkly.

            “I’m fine and you didn’t answer mine, either,” Sam countered snappishly then observed with hope, “He looked exactly like Dean.”

            “No shit, Sherlock,” Adam snarked lightly. “I figured that out quickly enough. Sounded exactly like him, too.”

            “That means he’s still alive,” Sam concluded quickly. “And somewhere close.”

            “Not necessarily,” Adam cautioned uncertainly. “It just means that it ran into him sometime when he was still alive.”

            Sam’s face fell slightly at that, knowing Adam was right, then he shook his head to clear it. “Yeah, you’re right but maybe. . . “

            Adam smiled slightly. “Yeah, I get that but, right now, we have to go check on Rebecca and kill this douche. Right?” Luckily, the blood trail leaded out of the room so they could follow it on the way.

            Sam smiled slightly and agreed enthusiastically, unable to contain the hope that he would soon see his big brother again, “You betcha. Let’s go.”

********

            At Becky’s apartment, Adam had tried to keep the shifter, who was back in Dean’s skin, from killing Sam but the shifter had thrown Adam into a nearby wall. He slowly shook off his stun in time to see the shifter jump on top of Sam and slowly begin to strangle him. He moved unsteadily to get to his feet when he heard it.

            “Hey!”

            The shifter stopped strangling Sam, stunned briefly, before turning quickly to face the new threat. It turned and stared in disbelief. Then it glared fiercely as it snarled irately, “I killed you!”

            Dean’s face transformed into his normal smirk while he commented nonchalantly, “Yeah. I get that a lot.” Then he rapidly shot two silver bullets into the shifter’s heart, throwing it back into the wall. It slid down the wall, dead, and landed on a wooden chest by the wall. Dean glanced at Sam then stepped over him to check the shifter’s body.

            “Take care of Sam, Adam,” Dean ordered briskly as he studied the shifter objectively. Once he was sure it was dead, he ripped his necklace off of the shifter’s neck. He turned and saw Adam, checking Sam for injuries, while Rebecca held Sam’s head gently in her lap.

            Dean turned to leave through the nearby window but Adam called out quickly, “Wait.”

            Dean glanced back and sighed heavily, “No. Police are on the way. I’m officially a wanted man now, thanks to all this.”

            “Dean,” Adam pleaded.

            Dean muttered under his breath, “No good can come of this.” He stared at Adam hard then insisted firmly again, “I told you already. I’m not him. Dean’s dead. Even the shifter said so. Let it go, short fry.”

Sirens sounded in the distance. Dean glanced outside, getting ready to leave, then he turned back and asked hesitantly, “How is he?”

Crap. That was so not what was supposed to come out.

            Adam stood and walked over to Dean while he answered softly, “He’s beat to hell but he’ll be okay.” By the time he finished, he was right in front of Dean and hissed out warningly, “We need to talk, Dean, or I swear that I will tell them. Everything.”

            Dean glared angrily at his blackmail attempt then at Rebecca who stared at them uneasily while she gently stroked Sam’s hair back away from his face. Dean rolled his eyes then finally relented slightly. In a harsh but too soft whisper, he ordered briskly, “Two hours. Two miles south of town. Hill overlooking a lake. You’d better be alone and handle her. Clear?”

            Adam swiftly nodded in agreement. He glanced at Rebecca who almost instantly appeared shocked. Adam glanced back at Dean, only to see empty space where Dean used to be. Adam did a quick glance of the area but there was no sign of Dean anywhere.

*************

            Adam easily found their meeting place and pulled up on top of the hill to the sight of Dean, or, rather Dean’s body, leaning against Dean’s baby, the Impala. Adam smiled slightly at the much desired picture while he parked next to the Impala and exited the junked out car that Bobby had given them. He tossed Dean’s hand-me-down, well-worn leather jacket at him. Adam’s eyes never left Dean’s so he saw the flicker of surprise then pleasure as Dean easily caught the jacket. Both emotions were swiftly masked but the fact that they had been there at all were enough to reassure Adam for now.

            “What’s this?” Dean demanded with a rough, raspy voice. Adam absently wondered if there was actually something permanently wrong with it, considering he hadn’t heard Dean’s normal voice yet.

            “It’s yours. Figured you might want it back,” Adam elaborated casually then quickly added, playing along, as he saw Dean about to argue. “It doesn’t fit the rest of us so it belongs with the body.” He had reached the spot across from Dean so he casually leaned against the “clunker junker”, as he’d dubbed it, unconsciously matching Dean’s lounge position against the Impala.

            Dean frowned intently and paused for a moment, undecided, then held it out to Adam to take back. “I’m NOT him,” Dean reaffirmed hoarsely.

            Adam shrugged without concern but made no move to take the jacket. “I’m not taking it back until you’re through with the body.”

            “It could get trashed,” Dean warned harshly in the same voice.

            Adam studied the man in front of him a moment then shook his head and argued firmly, “I don’t think so.”

            “Really?” Dean prodded with confused disbelief then rolled his eyes at Adam’s automatic nod. “Why?”

            Adam shrugged again before he pointed out the obvious, “Body’s still in good shape.”

            Dean raised his eyebrows incredulously before retorting harshly, “Says you. Clothes hide a lot, short bus, as you well know. Plus, you know that this body is different. Always has been. Or have you forgotten?”

            “Nothing’s forgotten,” Adam promised automatically in a low heart-felt voice then he waved a hand cutting off Dean’s next comment. He snapped irritably, “The fact that you are even arguing with me says enough.”

Dean glared slightly at the truth in those words then suddenly realized that he’d felt more in these last few minutes than he had in the past few months, heck, year. He didn’t like it. It needed to stop which meant he needed to get away from them.

That knowledge made him bite back, “Fine.” He clutched the jacket tightly in his hand as it dropped back by his side. “Now, why the meet?” He insisted abruptly, now in a hurry to get away from this emotion charged event. He was better, and more comfortable, operating on autopilot.

Adam seemed to know that his time was limited now so he quickly came to the point. “Why are you here? Did you come to help us?”

Dean scoffed humorlessly, “No. Not even a little, Ponyboy. Was trying to heal up. Just my luck to fall into a shifter’s den but then the universe always did seem to have it out for me.”

Adam’s face fell at the knowledge those words brought as he read between the lines. “You’re avoiding us.”

Dean gave a wry half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he reminded gently, “Not your brother, half pint. Got no business with you and yours.”

“Prove it,” Adam challenged shrewdly.

Dean gave him a death glare for an instant then blanked out his face and pulled out his silver bladed knife. Adam tensed automatically at the potential danger then forced himself to relax when he saw the wry amusement in Dean’s eyes. Dean smirked mockingly then rolled up his left sleeve to uncover his bicep. He steeled himself for the upcoming pain and slowly drew the knife across his bicep deep enough to draw a steady stream of blood. Simultaneously, smoke arose from the flesh that came into contact with the silver. It sizzled, boiled and burned like a shape shifter would have as well as several other supernatural creatures.

Dean barely flinched at the pain and breathed shallow to avoid the nausea at the smell of burning flesh seemed to trigger in him lately while he continued to stare deep into Adam’s widening eyes. They both knew what this test meant as well as the results.

“Christo,” Adam whispered reluctantly.

Dean scoffed with sardonic amusement while he reiterated again, “Not a demon. Holy water, salt, exorcism. All of that stuff has no effects. Just silver. Currently,” he added as an afterthought.

“Were-,“ Adam guessed hesitantly.

“No,” Dean interrupted impatiently, like he’d been through this numerous times. “Have total control. Moon has an effect but not much of one.” He continued briskly, “Not a shifter, ghost or revenant, either. Like I said, don’t have a name for me yet. Closest would possibly be a skin walker but that’s not it, either.”

They were both silent for a few moments as both of them worked through their thoughts. Neither one of them enjoyed any part of this one bit. Dean finally sighed regretfully, “I’m not him, kid. I’ll never be him. You’ll never get him back.”

Adam stared at him with huge, shiny eyes, refusing to let them leak. Deep down, Adam had known this but he also knew that fundamentally the thing before him was still Dean. Not the Dean that had disappeared obviously. It was what was left of him.

Adam didn’t understand what had happened to his brother. He didn’t know how he knew what he did, but he was certain about it. In any case, Adam couldn’t leave things like this. He tried to be strong even though this was going to sound a lot more like begging.

“Come with us anyway,” he begged desperately.

Dean smothered a weak, equally desperate laugh then rolled his eyes. “Just let it go, short bus. Dean’s gone. Light a candle or something. Move on already.”

“Not until I have the remains to burn,” Adam insisted stubbornly.

Dean sighed heavily then gave a self-depreciating snort of laughter and offered wearily, “Two weeks then.”

“What?” Adam pried with dread.

“You’ll have the body back in two weeks,” Dean explained patiently, like he was talking to a small child.

“How – “

“Not your problem,” Dean evaded dismissively then changed the subject. “You need to head back now. Sam should be waking up soon and will be looking for you. He can be a real bitch when he’s worried.”

After a slight pause, Dean had to ask, “How is he anyway?”

“What do you care?” Adam contested, wanting Dean to admit to what he knew to be right.

Dean shrugged without concern, apparently knowing Adam’s plan and unwilling to play that game. He moved down the side of the Impala and opened his driver’s side door. He started to twist to get in when Adam grabbed him from behind in a desperate hug. Dean quickly grabbed the roof of the Impala to keep his balance.

“Don’t go,” Adam whispered in a desperate voice.

Dean let his head fall forward to the Impala’s roof and stilled himself against the heart-felt plea that churned up so many conflicting emotions that he thought he was going to pass out under the swell. He quickly stuffed down all the emotion that tried to overtake him. Shoved it all back in that damned box in the back of what was left of his mind.

He wasn’t that person anymore. He would never be that person anymore, and he honestly wasn’t sure he could even fake being that person anymore. With a heavy sigh, he admitted reluctantly, “Have to. Have to finish what he started.”

“By killing yourself?” Adam demanded incredulously into Dean’s clothed back.

“If that’s what it takes,” Dean acknowledged resolutely in a firm whisper. He felt Adam shudder against him and cursed under his breath. He shifted his balance then turned to gather Adam into a close hug, knowing he’d regret this later. “Listen, kiddo, I’m already riding a dead man so this will just balance the books out, so to speak. Right?” Adam trembled even more in his arms.

Dean sighed heavily and breathed in Adam’s familiar scent. He’d actually been smelling it since Adam got out of the car but now it was really intense. He felt Adam do the same, causing long forgotten memories to return. Memories from, oh, so long ago, came to the forefront of Dean’s tortured mind, reminding him of a time when he was almost human.

Had it really only been about two years? Seemed like decades, Dean concluded reluctantly. He couldn’t stand to think back on those years. It was too much for him. As a result, he refused to let himself remember anything else.

Dean cleared his throat and offered in a low voice, not knowing why, “Look. If, by some enormously strange miracle, I make it out. I’ll find you and let you know. But I’ll never be able to stay with you. You know that. Right? Especially if Da-, if John is around, at all.”

Adam nodded reluctantly then replied, “Yeah. I know. And thanks.” Adam pulled himself together while focusing on the long, white scar that cut completely across Dean’s neck. It was almost like someone, or something, had cut off his brother’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be there, he knew. His past Dean never had that kind of injury. It was irrefutable proof that this wasn’t his Dean. Nothing human could have survived that.

Adam sighed with resignation and released Dean then he headed towards the driver’s side of the old clunker. He offered casually over his shoulder as he went, “Sammy has a bad concussion and a couple of bruised ribs. His throat will be sore for a few days but nothing really major and maybe I won’t have to hear him griping about things so much.” By the time he finished, he had reached his car door and opened it before he looked at Dean over the hood to see exactly how Dean took the news.

Dean nodded slightly in acknowledgement before he rasped out, “Thanks.”

Adam gave him a weak half-smile before ordering seriously, “Find us soon. I mean it, De. Very soon.”

“Do the best I can, baby bro,” he answered automatically with unusual solemnness but with a hint of his old cockiness.

Dean watched Adam leave until his car was complete gone before heading out to his next rendezvous. He climbed into his baby and tossed his worn leather jacket on the back seat while he mentally shut all of Dean’s memories out of his mind. He buried them deep, deep down, knowing that he would probably never get a chance to revisit them again. It was sad how much that relieved him.

Mostly, he was okay with that and had made his peace with it a long time ago. That didn’t mean that he actually wanted to die. Again. He just knew that he already had. One too many times. Even a cat didn’t have that many lives. Did they?

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - Home

Adam and Sam fought their way through the Hookman and Sammy still got the girl, Adam remembered with a slight smile. But the Bugs really annoyed Adam to NO end. The actual bugs were bad enough but having to tell John’s secrets to Sam was what really got him.

Why did he have to be the older brother to Sam? Why did he have to tell Sam how often John drove by Stanford to check on him? Granted, Dean had told him some of it before Adam experienced it himself. He sometimes wondered if John drove by the college more frequently after Dean disappeared or if it had always been that way.

            The next case was even worse and he just had to stop thinking that it wasn’t possible. Now they were chasing down Sam’s visions. Holy freakin’ heck. He really wished Dean or John was here. No, make that just Dean. John would probably fly through the roof then send them through it.

            After they visited Sam’s childhood home and met the new owner, they had to fill up the old clunker while they discussed their options. Adam talked Sam down from his minor panic attack then tried to approach this like any other case, the way that Dean had taught him to. It was actually not that hard for Adam since he had no ties to Lawrence, or Mary.

            “I mean, what do you actually know? About that night, I mean,” Adam questioned.

            “Well, you’ve heard Dad’s tale, right?” Sam countered hesitantly. Adam nodded immediately and Sam shrugged. “Well, that’s about it.”

Adam frowned slightly and prodded hesitantly, “What about Dean’s version?”

Sam’s forehead creased in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘Dean’s version’? Dean was four.”

“Yeah, but he still remembered it.” Adam answered slowly, “You know. Like h’/[p;’’’’ow Dad handed you to Dean and ordered him to take you out of the house while Dad went back to try to save Mary?”

“What?” Sam asked in shock. “Dean . . . what? He carried me out of the house?” Sam clarified in confused awe.

Adam stared at him for a moment before he confirmed, “Yeah. What? You didn’t know that?” Sam shook his head. “Yeah, Dean carried you from your nursery, down the stairs and out of the house. He stopped in the front of the house and looked up to your nursery window when all the sudden Dad ran out, grabbed you both up and carried you two away. Dean saw the nursery window exploded out while flames shot out. Said it was really memorable.”

Sam still stared at him in shock then finally asked hoarsely, “How do you know all that?”

“He told me,” Adam stated nonchalantly. “On the anniversary of  . . . you know. He got really drunk and just started talking. It was just the two of us. Dad was on a hunt and, I don’t know. Guess he didn’t need to protect me from the truth or something. Maybe he was trying to explain why your dad always hunts on that day. Or maybe he just needed to get it out. Don’t know. Just know what he told me.”

Adam finished with a shrug then announced abruptly, “Gotta take a leak. Finish this, will you?”

Adam walked away without waiting for an answer. Once he was hidden from Sam’s view, he quickly called John to let him know what was going on but, of course, he only got voicemail. He left a message then hung up and called Dean’s phone. Once again, voicemail picked up. Adam sighed heavily but left a message anyway.

Hey, D! I know I’ve left messages because I haven’t heard from you since St. Louis and I really hope that you’re still with us. But I really need your help right now. Please! If there’s any way, even if you’re a ghost or something, man.

Look, Sam’s having visions of something supernatural in your old house in Lawrence and we are here now. He’s freaking out and I have no idea what to do. I need you, man. I need my big brother. So, if there’s any way, any way at all, please call me. I really need your help!

            Adam quickly hung up and brushed his eyes to clear them. He went ahead and used the filthy restroom, once again being glad that he was a guy and didn’t actually have to touch anything inside there. He used some of the little bottle of germix he had in his pocket then exited the room.

            “It’s about time,” Sam snapped irritably then grabbed the keys away quickly before going into the room that Adam just vacated.

            Adam shook his head slightly at Sam’s bitchiness and headed back to the car. His phone vibrated so he quickly pulled it out and answered it, “Yeah?”

            “It’s simple, half pint. Work the case. You can do this better than either of us since you’re not involved. You don’t really know what happened back then so investigate that and go from there,” the now familiar rasp stated before dissolving into a vicious coughing fit.

            “Dude, are you alright?” Adam demanded immediately with intense concern.

            He thought he heard a scoff before the next cough and clearing of the throat which didn’t seem to do much good. The hoarse whisper dismissed easily, “Been better. And worse. Will try to get there but it will take a while. Any timeline established?”

            “No, not really.”

            “Figures.” There was another round of smothered coughing spasms before it continued wearily, “Only way for me to get there in any time is to go native. Just so you know.”

            “Understood.”

            “Don’t worry, kid. You got this. Just stay in control. You got this. Clear?” the voice advised encouragingly.

            “You telling me that you got my back?” Adam queried pointedly, wanting to know if he was reading the clues right.

            After a very heavy sigh that caused more coughing, it replied weakly, “As much as I can these days. Got your front, too, if possible. Got to go now or I’ll never get there. Take care, both of you.”

            “Promise. You, too,” Adam signed off and saw Sam headed toward the car. Now at least, he had a plan.

******

Sam strained with all his might against the force holding him tightly to the kitchen cabinet. He didn’t budge an inch. At least, he knew that Adam made it outside safely with the rest of the family that lived here now. It was probably fitting that he died in the same place that his mother did, protecting him.

Suddenly, the living room window closest to the kitchen shattered inwardly as a giant dark wolf barreled inside the room and landed right in front of the doorway leading from the kitchen to the living room. It was now in between Sam and the potential threat, a column of walking flame.

The wolf focused all of its attention on the flaming menace that walked into the living room area from the entry way. The wolf’s hackles rose while it growled menacingly in warning at the fiery figure that approached the kitchen. Neither one of them knew what the wolf was actually going to do against the flaming wonder but it was apparent that it would do whatever it could to keep the threat away from Sam.

Adam finally broke through the front door and stormed into the kitchen from the hallway doorway right next to Sam and leveled Dean’s sawed off shotgun at the flaming creature as well. Taking a moment to aim, Adam steadied himself but right before he could pull the trigger, Sam argued quickly, “No. No. Wait.”

“What? Wait?” Adam clarified with confused disbelief. “Why?”

“Because I know who it is now,” Sam stated slowly with shocked pleasure.

Mary chose then to reveal her identity to her audience as the flames blew out and she appeared to them in her nightgown, looking as young and beautiful as she had been right before that fateful night. The wolf immediately cowered down and whimpered with acute distress while its head swung around, searching desperately for an out. It frantically tried to find an escape from the room, but all of them are blocked.

She knelt down before it while it scurried into a kitchen corner and cowered in a vain attempt to make itself disappear. It trembled and whimpered with distressful fright. She moved one hand to its muzzle to bring its face up so that she could look it in the eye. She placed her face even with the wolf’s face and reached her other hand out to stroke its fur gently. It whimpered with abject apology.

In return, she whispered in an extremely soft voice that only it could hear. She murmured its name then insisted with immense loving sadness, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I know. I know it all and I understand. You have never, ever disappointed me.” The wolf whimpers slightly in return and nuzzles her gently which she seemed to understand.

She stood up and walked right up to Sam who is still pinned to the cabinet then acknowledged him lovingly, “Sam.” She smiled gently but it soon turned into a deeply concerned frown as she offered with great sorrow and regret, “I’m sorry.”

Before Sam could ask her why she was sorry, she sent a gentle smile to Adam and added a nod of approval. She turned around and warned the entity holding Sam hostage in his childhood home, “You. Get out of my house, and leave my son alone.”

Her entire being burst into the fiery spirit again then soared to the ceiling, causing a brief explosion of fire as the two supernatural entities collided in combat. Supernatural flame coated the whole living room ceiling before it was sucked back out into the supernatural void.

With that, Mary passed into the far beyond where her children could not find her, or follow. The wolf howled aloud painfully before it skittered to its feet and flew out of the same window it entered, whimpering with intense distress. It disappeared into the dark, sad night before either Adam or Sam could stop it.

Chapter Text

A week later, Dean slowly entered the basement of Roosevelt Asylum, shaking his head with enormous disgust. While this was probably a place that Dean belong, it seemed the longer he was away from his brothers, the stupider they got. He knew that something was up with Sam the minute Adam told him about the phone call Sam got which the teensters relayed to him. He guessed it paid to check up on them occasional, before they got themselves killed in a completely idiotic way.

When Adam started to go after Sam, Dean told him to stay put with the other two kids. If Sam was compromised now, Dean was the only one here that could actually handle the damage that could result from it. Adam was better off babysitting.

As Dean made his way through the deserted, decaying corridors, he wondered what the hell he was actually doing, coming back to his brothers like this. No good could come of it, he knew that. But Adam was having a hard time handling Sam’s moods, not to mention Sam’s new psychic thing, and Dean could definitely sympathize with the kid on both issues.

“Sam?” Dean called out carefully, searching the area, once he’d reached the basement. He could smell Sam but not see him which meant that Dean was right again and Sam had been compromised. Sam wouldn’t hide otherwise and he would definitely rush out to greet his long lost brother, or, at least, Dean thought that he would. Of course, Dean never thought Sam would leave them for college like he did so maybe . . .

When Sam popped out of his hiding spot, he didn’t seem at all surprised to see Dean. Considering how they should have believed Dean was dead, it made Dean wonder but Dean went with it and explained the asylum’s history. Sam listened patiently with only minimal interruptions which was yet another clue that things weren’t what they seemed.

When Dean turned and started searching for the secret door, he was not surprised at all that Dr. Ellicot had gotten to Sam. He was, however, surprised that Sam had actually shot him with rock salt and blasted him through the decayed wall. When Sam actually pulled the trigger on the empty handgun that Dean had offered him, Dean finally accepted that John wasn’t the only one that Sam was running away from when he went away to Stanford and Dean was very thankful that Adam had listened to him about staying behind with the other kids. He didn’t want to think about how Adam would have coped with Sam shooting him like this. Of course, the three additional shots would have been overkill to someone normal, like Adam.

Dean knocked Sam out and almost had Ellicot fried when the bastard attacked him. He felt such rage flow through him, especially after all that had happened to him over this past year, he didn’t know how he would be able to fight it. He felt his blood start to boil and his skin start to itch. He was running out of time. The longer that the skivvy spirit had a hold of him, the worse the rage got. He barely managed to remember to toss the lighter over towards the corpse but never knew if it landed right.

Dean almost passed out from overload when Ellicot suddenly burst into flames in front of him. Next thing he knew he saw Adam in front of him, shaking him slightly. Dean blinked a few times to clear the fuzz in his mind, thanks to the now very dead doctor.

“Dean,” Adam snapped again with increasing concern, taking in Dean’s bloody decimated t-shirt. Rock salt at point blank range can cause a great amount of damage to the human body. It won’t kill a human but it can sure make a human wish that he was dead. “Are you okay? Come on, man. Talk to me, De.”

Dean slapped his hands away and attempted to zip up his jacket to hide the damage done to him. Protecting Sam was always a priority with him. While he tried to figure out how many ribs were cracked as opposed to bruised, he snapped irritably, “Back off. I’m fine. Get off of me, dude.”

Adam rolled his eyes in exasperation then knocked Dean’s hands away to finish the job for him. “Yeah, right. Of course, you’re fine. Hospital time it is, then.”

“Huh? What?” Dean blinked in confusion, still trying to get his bearings. “Why? Seriously?”

“Dean,” Adam explained patiently, “fine is your code for barely hanging on.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the exaggeration and regretted it immediately when the room kept moving. Okay, definite concussion. What a shocker, Dean checked off mentally. He snarked aloud, “Whatever, mom. Where’s Sam?” Adam motioned with his head and they both turned to see Sam slowly waking up only a few feet away from them.

Sam slowly sat up and flexed his jaw, feeling the bruise developing.  He glanced around the room in an attempt to figure out what the heck had really happened and what might have been his imagination. His eyes stopped the instant that they found his brothers staring at him a few feet away.

Dean studied him a moment then questioned wryly, “You’re not going to try to kill me again, are you?”

“No,” Sam answered softly but with more than a little confusion in his voice.

“Good. Because that would be awkward,” Dean joked slightly with a serious undertone while Adam huffed sardonically and offered his hand to help Dean stand. Dean barely shook his head in answer then ordered tightly, “Get the guns and duffel first. I’ll be up in a minute.” Adam nodded and moved away to gather up all of their stuff.

Sam slowly clamored to his feet and swayed slightly before straightening up. He saw Adam gathering up their things then returned his focus to his older brother. His older brother who had been missing for the past two years and now sat not five feet in front of him. At first, Sam had thought Dean was a ghost but he hadn’t dissipated at all when the rock salt had hit him which meant . . .

Dean concentrated on gathering his strength so that he could stand on his own two feet without assistance. He really hated that. But he’d had a really rough month . . . well, year . . . two years . . . whatever. His life had sucked rocks for quite a while now. He just needed like a week or so of rest, and food, and he’d be perfect. Maybe. Possibly. Probably. Not.

He’d heard footsteps around him but ignored them because his brothers were gathering things and he didn’t need to watch that. Or so, he thought.

His eyes flew open when he was suddenly hefted up by his armpits then crushed in a very painful, tight bear hug. He couldn’t breathe through the pain it caused because his little brother, Giagantor, had cut off his entire air supply as well. He strangled out a shocked yelp which was quickly followed by a strangled cough.

“Dean,” Sam breathed into his ear. “Oh, God, Dean. You’re alive.”

“He won’t be for much longer, unless you let him breathe,” Adam interjected sardonically while he tried to pry his two older brothers apart. He’d noticed Dean’s distress and could guess what was wrong, having seen the damage done earlier.

Sam gave another quick squeeze before letting Dean go. “Yeah, yeah.” He muttered as he turned away to hide the swipe over his eyes. He knew he’d be teased if they knew and he’d never hear the end of it.

“Easy there, tiger,” Dean sagged slightly then felt Adam subtly stabilize him before Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder, stating playfully, “Finally been working the weights, eh, Sammy?”

Sam nodded absently then turned back and gasped in horror, “Holy crap! I shot you. I– I–“

Dean scoffed dismissively, “It was nothing. Just some bruises. Check it out.” He lifted up his jacket and shirt together and showed him some of the bruising that still remained. He didn’t mention the concussion, dislocated shoulder and cracked ribs that were currently hidden from view. That was the main reason he always concentrated on healing his outside appearance first as much as he could.

He quickly dropped his shirt, adding cockily, “See? Nothing but a flesh wound. Not even that. At least, according to the Grail. And the Grail is all holy by God,” he smirked laughingly. “Heck, I get worse than that training with Dad. Now, what do you say we get Romeo and Juliet out of here then go grab a beer? Yeah?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before casually turning to leave the room.

“Sounds great to me but it’s only seven in the morning,” Adam piped in supportively and turned to follow Dean before looking back at Sam. “Comin’, Sammy?”

“It’s Sam, dammit,” Sam snapped irritably before stalking out of the room after them. “And, Dean, you’re not off the hook that easily.”

Dean ignored him, not wanting to deal with anything right now, and countered Adam’s comment, “It’s never too early for a drink, buddy boy. You know, it’s got to be five o’clock somewhere, but since you’re still underage and all, how about we just get some breakfast?”

******

Outside in the driveway to the asylum, Dean commanded firmly, “No more haunted asylums, okay?” The two teens nodded solemnly then walked to their car and drove away. Dean turned toward his brothers as soon as the car’s taillights disappeared around the bend and informed them quickly, “I’m parked around back. Meet you guys at the diner near your motel.”

“How do you –“ Sam started to ask but was cut off with a pointed look.

“No,” Adam argued firmly, “we all go together, besides you’re injured. You’ve been limping since the basement.”

Dean arched an eyebrow in disbelief before he returned adamantly, “That is nothing new, short bus. I am not injured. And I am not getting in that P.O.S. car there. My baby would never forgive me, and I wouldn’t blame her. Plus, I am especially not leaving my baby. Now, before you two fight over who’s going with me, just get in your damn hunk of junk and meet me around back.” Dean effectively shut down further arguments then turned to take a short cut around back when Sam ruined his planned retreat.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam called out quickly, causing Dean to turn to look at him. “About what I said back there . . .”

“You remember all that?” Dean prodded without any emotion, even though his face was just as open as it had always been.

“Look, what I said back there . . . you know I didn’t mean it, right? Not any of it,” Sam verified nervously.

“You didn’t, huh?” Dean reiterated emotionlessly, not believing that for a second since what Sam had said under the influence wasn’t the first time he’d heard Sam say stuff like that.

“No. Of course not,” Sam insisted immediately then asked hesitantly, “Do we need to talk about this?”

“No. No. Not really in the caring-sharing kinda mood,” Dean argued lightly. “I just wanna get some food then sleep. You can meet me around back or I’ll meet you guys at the diner. Your choice.” With that, Dean turned abruptly then quickly trotted around the building and out of sight before they could stop him again.

He turned the corner and spotted them, both of them, his black beauties, as he liked to call them. He gave a weak half smile to the twenty-ish woman with long, straight black hair, leaning seductively against his Impala. Her short black dress showed off her long, slender mocha colored legs all the way down to her beautiful bare feet.

Her dark chocolate eyes assessed him as he approached her. She queried in smooth voice, “Shoulder again, huh?” He blinked in slight surprise, although he didn’t know why. It had been a while since he’d been able to pull anything over on her. She sighed with exasperated frustration and ordered tautly, “Assume the position. I take it that you are being followed, otherwise you wouldn’t be jogging which has to be causing more pain than normal.”

By the time she finished talking, she had already reached into his front seat. He leaned his good hand against the Impala and prepared himself for the pain of having his shoulder relocated into its socket. She silently handed him the bottle of Jack Daniels which he gratefully took with the hand that was attached to his injured shoulder. She warned softly as she placed her hands into the proper position, “On the count of three. One. Two. . .” She didn’t make three, preferring to change it up on her victims.

“Sonova . . .” Dean hissed out as he quickly straightened up and turned back to face her. He glared fiercely at her while his body sagged wearily against his baby. He wasn’t even aware that he was sliding down her side until the woman grabbed his uninjured side to hold him upright.

Dean took a huge swallow of the opened bottle, chugging a fourth of it at once, before he growled out, “You said, ‘three,’ Raven. Three! Damnit!”

Raven rolled her eyes at his childish outburst before defending easily, “You were already tensing up and we don’t have a lot of time. I hear them. They aren’t far now.”

“’Sup?” he questioned thickly, taking another long chug of the strong alcohol.

Raven flinched slightly, anticipating how her news would be received. With a sigh, she recited briskly, “You were right. They are targeted. Everything is set on that front. Also, we’ve another possible.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed in agony, both mental and physical. “We all know it’s not possible anymore.” She started to speak but he shut her down quickly, “No. Not now. We deal with what’s in front of us right now. No more possibilities. Execute this plan. Now go!”

Raven nodded quickly then turned and ran off into the nearby woods while Dean opened his car door and turned to see his brothers’ clunker headed his way. Not wanting to talk to anyone right now, he took another long drink while he got behind the wheel of his baby. He started her up and sighed heavily, feeling the alcohol slowly numb his body and mind a bit. He was in so much pain at this point, both mentally and physically, that he knew it was only a matter of time before his whole body gave out. He just hoped that it happened before his mind completely left him.

He stuffed the opened bottle between his legs and slipped on his sunglasses as he drove forward while turning on his radio. He found some Metallica and relaxed back slightly in his seat. He knew he only had a very short amount of time before he had to be in action again. He might as well relax while he could, right?

************

Dean exited his baby slowly and shook himself slightly of all the dust that covered him before he met his brothers at the diner’s door. He opened it up and made his way to a booth in the very back of the diner so that his back was against a wall. He sat facing the door, making a point to leave no room beside him, while his brothers slid in opposite him. A bubble gum chewing waitress quickly came by for their order since there were only a couple other patrons present.

“What can I get ya?” She smacked noisily as she tapped her pen against her pad.

“Uh, could we . . .” Sam stammered as he and Adam reached for menus.

“We’ll take coffees and could we . . .” Adam added with a little more certainty but he was cut off, too.

“Actually, they will have coffees. I’ll have some of your lowest percent white milk with a bowl of oatmeal and a side of fruit,” Dean ordered easily, hiding the fact that the whole process made him nauseous. “And can you go ahead and put that order in with the drinks, sweetheart? I’m in a bit of a hurry.” He gave her one of his most charming smiles which had her blushing in seconds flat.

“You got it, sugar,” She answered cheerfully as she flirted and dotted something on her pad then left to put his order. “I’ll be back in a minute for you boys.”

Both Sam and Adam stared at Dean like he had grown four heads or something so he finally grumbled irritably, “What?”

“Seriously?” Adam exclaimed in shocked confusion. “That’s what you’re going to eat.”

Probably not, Dean thought wryly to himself but answered defensively, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Besides it being extremely healthy? And you avoiding that word like the plague?” Adam argued facetiously. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Dean scoffed dismissively but glanced out the window taking note of the cars parked in the area as well as any other odd activity.

“Dean, take off your glasses,” Sam ordered uneasily.

Dean turned his attention back to his brother and argued curiously, “Why?”

“Because it’s polite,” Sam countered easily.

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother and saw what the problem was. He growled out irritably, “Fine.” He took off his glasses and braced himself for the flash of light in his eyes, knowing it was going to hurt his head even more with the concussion he had going on. He winced at the flash then gritted out, “Go ahead and give me the damn holy water, jerk. Need to get the dust out of my mouth anyway.”

Sam handed over the flask which Dean gulped down before handing it back to Sam. Luckily, the waitress brought back their drinks and Dean’s meal. She took Sam and Adam’s orders which consisted of a standard breakfast; eggs, bacon, sausage and toast.

Adam noted wryly, “Looks like you and Sammy switched stomachs.”

Dean gave a slight smirk as he dumped the fruit into the oatmeal and listlessly stirred it. He almost glared at the offensive meal before he added only a teaspoon of sugar to it. He glanced up as he took a small bite and found Sam staring at him solemnly. “What, Sam?” He huffed with exasperation.

Sam grimaced at the question, knowing he couldn’t answer it truthfully. He couldn’t say that his older brother looked worse than death. He’d actually seen ghost with more color. Hell, Ellicot had more color to him than Dean’s pale, drawn complexion. He’d also seen Dean’s hand visibly shake as he moved the spoon to his mouth and the glass to his lips. He had noticed the slight limp that Adam had pointed out earlier on top of all the other stuff. He wondered what else was wrong with his brother and what damage was being hidden from their eyes because he was certain that there was some, knowing Dean.

Sunlight from outside glinted off of a window shield and the reflection shown across Dean’s neck just as Dean’s entire posture tensed up and Sam heard someone enter the diner. He knew he should turn around and see who entered. Something had his brother worried, after all, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from the whitish scar that encircled Dean’s entire neck.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” An arrogant, bored voice recited sardonically. “I tell you, they let just any type of animal into these types of establishments. Don’t they? Dean?”

“You should know, asshat,” Dean snarled hoarsely. “God knows you’re the biggest jackass there is.”

Sam glanced over while Adam tensed and turned as well but they were all blocked in by three large professionally dressed men. The lead ‘jackass’ was almost as tall as the Winchesters but he had at least a hundred pounds of fat rounding out his bald head and rounded body. The graying hair on the sides suggested the man was in his fifties.

The two bodyguards behind ‘jackass’ looked like the standard stereotypes and both of them had the Rock’s build. Standard muscle for most higher ups. They wore sunglasses but didn’t look too intelligent. Even so, it was plain to see that the Winchesters couldn’t easily fight their way out of here, especially if Dean was half as ill as he looked.

One of the goons pulled a chair over to the end of their booth table but nearer to Dean’s side of the table and the lead ‘jackass’ sat down primly. He crossed his leg and negligently picked some stray threads from his pants leg. He smiled smugly, “Dean. Dean. Dean. I have to tell you. When you told me that you were going to get me some new recruits, I honestly thought you were lying but here you are. And your own brothers even. Wow. And people call me sneaky, slimy, evil, even. Gotta hand it to you, Winchester. You managed to surprise me even.”

If looks could kill, the man would have been decimated a thousand times over from the heat of Dean’s glare. Hatred didn’t even come close to describing the magnitude of the negative emotion radiating from Dean. His lips curled in disgusted derision as he hissed furiously, “Only thing I will ever give you is the same everlasting damnation that you gave me and my friend because you’re next on my list, Butterball.”

“Oh, come now, Dean,” Butterball, or BB as Adam like to think of him now, cajoled with much amusement. “Such pretense is a complete waste of energy at this point.” He snapped his fingers and two other business suit clad men appeared. They first grabbed Adam then Sam and wrangled them out of the booth while BB pointed out knowingly, “After all, if you weren’t giving them over to me, why aren’t you stopping me, Deano? What’s a matter? Cat got your tongue?”

As both Adam and Sam were manhandled out of the back of the diner, they heard an anguished howl, reminiscent of the one that sounded back at Lawrence. There was loud crashing and shouts of anger followed by gunshots and lights. Sam and Adam renewed their struggles as sunlight blasted them forcefully when they were shoved outside of the building. They turned with the intent of helping their brother when total darkness enveloped them within the blink of an eye and took them far, far away.

Chapter Text

The deathly silent hotel room echoed with a soft click of metal on metal. It was loud enough for both brothers to pop their eyes open and quickly take stock of their surroundings. Adam and Sam stared at each other in confusion as to why they were now lying on their motel beds in the dark when their last memory was of Dean setting them up and turning them over to someone they didn’t know in the middle of the town diner during the early morning light.

Another soft click sounded and they turned to spot their oldest brother staring down the barrel of his beloved pearl handled Colt 1911 pistol. He held it firmly between his hands which were between his knees. He was hunched over staring right down the barrel of it when they heard another click.

Both brothers slowly got out of their beds so as to not spook Dean into doing something even more deadly. Sam opened his mouth to speak, only to have Dean cut him off abruptly, “It’s not really loaded, you know. Not like Russian roulette, although that game has sparked more of an interest in me lately. It just seems appropriate to do this sometimes, even if it would be more fitting for the gun to be loaded. Maybe I should change . . .”

They weren’t sure what was worse. What was said or how it had been said. There was absolutely NO emotion in Dean’s voice.

Dean glanced at them from the deep shadow of their room. The only light on was the bedside lamp that was between their two beds. They couldn’t make out most of Dean’s features based on his position which put them at a severe disadvantage.

Dean stared at them for a moment, committing their faces to memory, before running a hand over his face wearily. He gathered what remained of his strength and stood up slowly. With a very weak smirk, he told them pointedly, “See, it’s like I tried to tell you guys. I’ll never be able to be with this family again. The things hunting me now . . . They won’t stop until they have my head on a pike and they don’t give a damn about collateral damage. Hell, we can’t even eat a meal together without this shit infecting it. Now, for the last time, stop looking for me. It will only get what’s left of this family killed.”

“Dean,” Sam argued stubbornly as he slowly inched closer. “If you would only tell us what’s all going on, we can help you. I know you couldn’t tell us anything in the diner but now .  . .”

“You just don’t get it, Sammy,” Dean interrupted harshly, squaring off against his taller, younger brother. “I’m already dead and they know it. There is NO help for me. This body . . . my body . . . it’s . . . it’s just not working, not anymore. None of it. Can hardly eat and when I do, it’s nothing good. Tastes like crap wrapped up in dirt and stuffed in garbage. Can’t sleep, either . . .”

Both brothers frowned as they remembered how pale and sickly Dean had looked in the diner. They’d hoped that it was just the lighting but now . . . they couldn’t ignore what their brother was saying. Unfortunately, they couldn’t accept it, either. Not now that Dean was right in front of them.

“Dean,” Sam started pleadingly.

Dean smirked at him, “You haven’t changed at all, little brother. Can still read you like a book. Doctors can’t help. They can’t help because they don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me. No one does.”

Adam picked up on the hidden statement. “You’ve been to specialists, haven’t you?” Dean gave him a pointed look and they all knew the answer so Adam pressed on doggedly, “What did they say?”

Dean scoffed humorlessly, “A month. If I’m lucky.”

“When?” Sam demanded hoarsely.

Dean studied him a long while, apparently determining whether he thought Sam could handle it or not. Finally, Dean allowed with a heavy sigh, “Six weeks ago.” He let that sink in a moment before adding firmly, “Like I said, I’m already dead. Just trying to take out as many as I can while I can.”

“Dean,” Sam tried again after clearing his throat.

A car horn honked right outside the room and Dean cocked his head to the side like he was listening to something. After a moment, Dean turned his attention back to his brothers and informed them, “Time’s up. Find Dad. Tell him to stop looking, too. For me or Azazel. I’m going after him now. That bitch is mine.”

Adam frowned heavily and questioned curiously, “Who the hell is Azazel?”

“Yellow eyes,” Dean answered abruptly as he turned to leave.

“No!” Sam snapped in a panic and grabbed Dean’s injured shoulder unknowingly. “I won’t let you.” That was the last thing he could say before he heard an angry growl and saw stars.

Dean was unable to control himself as pain shot through the left side of his body. He’d already figured he’d probably have to at least knock Sam out, maybe Adam, too. So when Sam grabbed him, his fist was already headed toward his target. Adrenaline from the pain intensified the strength of the punch, though. Sam was out before he knew what hit him.

“Damnit,” Dean cursed in frustration while he tried to grab Sam with his good side. Luckily Adam was near enough and quick enough to help out. “Sorry,” Dean apologized regretfully as he helped Adam lower Sam to his bed.

Once they got Sam settled, Dean looked at Adam who stared back solemnly. They both moved to the end of the bed and Adam told Dean calmly, “I won’t ask you to let me know because I know you will by now so please, just be careful.”

Dean nodded then asked, “Watch out for Sammy for me, okay?” Adam nodded then gave Dean an inscrutable look that had him concerned. Dean clarified uncertainly while he shifted nervously, fighting the impulse to run, “Um, we’re . . . we’re not going to have to hug or any . . . Umph!”

The rest of Dean’s question was muffled in Adam’s hair as Adam hugged him tightly. Dean sighed in resignation before making his arms encircle the slender body against him. He closed his eyes a moment and returned the inevitable demonstration of affection. After a moment, he muttered with weary disgust, “Oh, God, kill me now.”

“Such a girl,” Dean taunted softly before he stepped back, breaking up the hug. Dean rolled his eyes and told Adam, “Now you two can have your own chick-flick. Do me a favor and braid his hair while he’s out. When he wakes up and you can give him a hug from me.” Adam nodded with a smile while Dean headed for the door before he amended staunchly, “But you can’t tell him it’s from me. Clear?”

“Very clear.”

Dean paused at the door with a slight smile before he said goodbye. “You two take care of each other. And Dad. Later.” With that, Dean closed the door, disappearing into the night again.

Chapter Text

It had taken them two weeks to find their father as they had finally been unable to convinced their father to let them meet up with him. During that time, John had sent them to hunt a scarecrow god in Indiana which resulted in Sam only barely being able to get to Adam in time. In reality, Sam felt like crap because he’d not only left his little brother alone to do the hunt, the fact that he’d left Adam period in order to hunt down his father and get his stupid revenge was a thousand times worse. He knew Dean would have never done that to him.

To top it all off, if a very familiar looking wolf hadn’t led Sam directly to Adam, well, Sam was pretty sure he’d been down yet another brother. The wolf had even stayed around long enough to fend off the scarecrow when it tried to take Adam and the girl before the townspeople arrived and gave the scarecrow a lot more sacrifices to choose from. In fact, the only real problem with the wolf was the fact that it had disappeared with a pained yelp right before they had exited the grove so Sam didn’t even know if it was still alive.

They had finished that hunt and hurried after their dad who they found in a diner somewhere in southern Montana because they had a nicely written note stating that John would, in fact, be there. They had no idea who the note was from so most of the way there they had planned for a trap. In spite of that, they both still agreed it was probably worth checking out.

They entered the diner about the time that their father normally ate breakfast and spotted him in a back booth. He glanced up from the newspaper he was looking at when they walked in which showed them that he did practice what he preached about constant awareness. His eyes widened with shock as he saw them headed right for him like they knew he was there, because they did.

Sam ordered two coffees as Adam slid into the booth first then Sam sat down beside him. Sam turned to study his father and stated rather bluntly, “Well, you look like hell. When’s the last time you got some sleep?”

John frowned slightly and demanded irritably because he hadn’t had enough caffeine for this yet, “What the hell are you two doing here? How did you find me?”

“A little bird told us,” Adam replied mysteriously. “So what’s good here?”

John arched an eyebrow at the evasion and wondered what the hell was going on.

Sam smirked slightly while he observed facetiously, “Not so much fun when others ignore your questions, is it?” John started to retort when the waitress showed up to take their orders.

After Sam and Adam ordered some breakfast, Adam took pity on his father and told him, “Look, we really can’t talk now so let’s eat then head to the motel because we have a lot to talk about.”

John stared at both sons for a long moment before nodding in agreement. He got his breakfast first so he passed the paper to his boys, pointing to the article that had his attention. They glanced at it before Sam stated easily, “Yeah, we know but you’re out-numbered and we’ll talk more later.”

John arched his brow again but didn’t say anything because the waitress brought the boys’ food. They quickly scarfed down their food and headed out. The boys drove their clunker to the motel that John pointed out for them.

Once they were all in the room with the door closed and locked, John ordered impatiently, “Alright. Talk.”

Adam glanced at Sam before he started, “We finished the Indiana hunt then started to head back to Illinois to check up on something. We stopped for the night midway through. When we walked out to the car the next morning, which was a couple of days ago, we had a note on our car that stated you were in danger. It gave us these coordinates and a word, ‘out-numbered’.”

John frowned at the information, knowing that he hadn’t really committed to this hunt at the time his boys had gotten the note. He started to say something but Sam continued briskly, “We figured that it was probably a trap or it could have been one but we couldn’t find any other leads in the area so we headed up here. Plus, we really needed to talk to you but you won’t pick up your damn phone.”

“Sam,” Adam warned softly.

“No, Adam,” Sam snapped irritably. “I’ve never agreed and this is going to happen.”

Adam rolled his eyes and threw up his hands.

“What’s going on?” John demanded, feeling the undercurrent in the room.

“It’s Dean, Dad,” Sam stated firmly. “We’ve seen him.”

“What? Where?” John growled with impatience, in spite of the relief and joy that flowed through his body.

“One of your hunts. The Roosevelt Asylum,” Sam informed him sardonically.

“What the hell was he doing there?” John wondered incredulously. Sam shrugged.

“Watching out for us,” Adam offered softly. He flinched slightly when both sets of eyes stared at him with disbelief. He knew he shouldn’t have said it but it seemed like it was the right time to admit it.

“What?” Sam wondered.

“How did he know where you were?” John demanded.

Adam winced before admitting, “I’ve been telling him.” They both stared at him speechless. Adam sighed, “Look, whenever we go somewhere new, I send him the coordinates.”

John glared at him and grabbed his shirt with a clenched fist before slamming him up against the motel wall. “You mean that you’ve known he was alive this whole time?”

Adam bit back the pain before he snapped back, “No! I swear. I mean, yeah, I’ve been texting him since he went missing. A lot at first then I sort of trailed off because I never got a reply until . . .”

“Until when?” John growled.

Adam swallowed hard before he confessed, “Until we got Sam.”

John relaxed his hand unconsciously while he processed the information and Adam loosened his stance slightly as he continued to explain.  Sam remained where he was listening by the room table. “Look, it’s hard to explain but, for some reason, that night, the wolf, meeting Sam, what happened, it all was . . .” He trailed off with an uncomfortable shrug. “So I sent a text to him. The first one in over four months, then I got a reply.”

“How do you know it was him and not someone else, or something else, like whatever took him?” John grounded out, unable to believe his sons’ naivety sometimes. Adam, and Sam, they were so damn trusting sometimes that he felt like he’d never taught them a damn thing.

Adam gave a small wry smile. “Yeah, he said I was naïve, too, but it was him. I know it was. The things he said. The way he said them. It was him.”

“Said?” Sam questioned intently, picking up on the slip.

Adam cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Yeah, uh, well, I sort of called him after he texted me and he actually picked up that time, but no time since.”

“Did it sound like Dean?” John wondered curiously, still not believing it.

“Yes, and no,” Adam answered hesitantly.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It sounded like him, if he had laryngitis, or had just been strangled, or something,” Adam tried to explain. “Look, I know you don’t believe me but I know it was him.”

“Did it tell you that?”

“No, in fact, it told me that Dean was dead. Had died over two years ago,” Adam informed them wryly. “Said that it was just borrowing the body until it finished his mission.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me any of that?” Sam demanded irately, feeling betrayed by both brothers now. “Hell, I actually . . . “

“It was Dean, Sam,” Adam countered hotly. “Hell, you actually shot him with rock salt at point blank range from what you told me and he didn’t smoke out or anything. He had no reaction to it and I saw him drink all your holy water at the diner. Again, no reaction. Remember?”

“Did it look and act like Dean, Sam?” John prodded tightly.

Sam blinked as he thought back and nodded, “Yeah. I mean, I never once saw anything that would have told me differently. I checked his eyes with a small flashlight. No retinal reflection, so he wasn’t a shifter, either. He did sound really hoarse and looked like death warmed over.”

“A couple of times,” Adam added sadly. “And his throat had a scar across it so that could have damaged to his vocal cords.”

“Well, where the hell is he now?” John demanded hotly, determined to find out what the hell was going on with his oldest.

Adam and Sam exchanged a look before Sam picked up the story, “When we were finishing breakfast, an old bald, fat guy walked in with a few friends and came right up to our table. I’m not sure about what all was going on but he wanted Dean in a very bad way. I’m pretty sure he is part of whatever happened to Dean while he was gone. I could feel the hate coming off of Dean in waves.”

“The guy said that Dean was trading us in for something but we both knew that Dean hadn’t done that. Two of the other guys pulled us out of the booth and led us away. That’s all we remember until we woke up in our motel room that night.”

“Dean was there but . . .”

“He acted . . . off,” Adam took over hesitantly. “Said that he had to leave and we, all of us, had to stop looking for him, especially you. Said that we’d be in danger as long as we kept looking and that he couldn’t be around us anymore for the same reason.”

“He said you need to stop looking for Azazel, too,” Sam added slowly. “Said that he was trying to take Azazel out before . . .”

“Azazel!” John exclaimed in shock. “How did . . . I mean, who . . .”

“Stop, Dad,” Sam ordered abruptly. “We know. Or, rather, Dean knows it’s Yellow Eyes. Apparently, Dean knows him pretty well, too, from the hate in his eyes.”

John shook his head at all the contradictory knowledge his boys were telling him then slowly walked over to a chair and sat down heavily. He ran a hand over his face then looked back up at his two boys as they moved to do the same. John sighed and verified, “Okay, so, your brother is alive but unable to be with us because of Azazel?”

Adam shook his head. “It’s not just Azazel. It’s a lot more than that but I don’t know what. He’s never been specific. Just that he’s out to get them, either for payback, or to stop them.”

“Probably both,” Sam and John answered together.

Then John ordered briskly, “Text him these coordinates. I want to talk to him.” Sam and Adam exchanged a telling glance. “What?”

Sam sighed with resignation, “We’ve been texting. He won’t answer.” He paused then continued, “I tried to stop him when he tried to leave and he decked me. I don’t think . . .”

“He doesn’t trust us not to stop him anymore,” Adam explained tightly.

John studied them both while he processed the news. He verified softly, “Does he have these coordinates?”

“Yes, sir,” Adam confirmed firmly.

“Will you tell us if he contacts you again?” John questioned further.

Adam bit his lip slightly before he swore, “Yes, sir. I will.”

John thought for a moment more before he decided, “Alright. We’ll do the hunt then figure out what to do about Dean.” Both Sam and Adam nodded in agreement.

Adam broke into a small smile and confirmed eagerly, “Vampires, right?”

John nodded solemnly but with a hint of a smile while Sam demanded incredulously, “Seriously?”

In the background, Adam commented with relish, “Awesome!”

“Yep. And they’re not the sparkly, angsty, vegetarian types. Time to sharpen your short swords, boys. Looks like we have to find out how many are in the nest before we strike so let’s load up and I’ll show you what I know,” John suggested briskly. Sam and Adam nodded as they jumped up quickly to follow after John.

Chapter Text

A loud crash engulfed the roaring growl of the lead vampire as it charged into the Winchesters’ motel room, batting the busted door out of the way in the process. John charged out of the bathroom in response, luckily having finished his business moments earlier, while the boys were startled awake. In keeping with typical Winchester luck, his machete was on the table that crashed across the room and into the wall when the vampire flung it out of his way. He had to get around the vampire to get to it.

They had checked out the nest earlier and decided to hit it first thing in the morning so they had come back to the motel room to collaborate on the best plan of attack. After several arguments and a cooling off period, they bedded down for the night. Looking back now, that probably wasn’t the best idea.

The lead vampire focused on the closest warm body which happened to be Sam as Sam scrambled out of his bed and jumped across Adam’s, yanking Adam with him to the other side by the wall. Now all three Winchesters were on the same side of the room but the weapons were on the other. The vampire smiled evilly, like he knew exactly what they were thinking.

John still had a gun on him that had silver bullets in it. It wouldn’t kill the vamp but it was better than nothing. He only wanted it to get a little closer to make sure the distraction would work to their advantage. He moved slightly in front of his boys, making himself the biggest target in the room, as they edged along the far wall and around the vamp. Their destination was the open door.

The vampire’s smile widened exponentially while it taunted wickedly, “I’m really going to enjoy this, John Winchester. You and your sons will feed my nest for a week.”

“I don’t think so,” John growled determinedly, steeling himself for the fight.

The vampire let out a triumphant laugh then lunged forward with a victorious growl. John automatically grabbed for his gun as he pushed his sons back up against the wall. John hadn’t even swung his gun completely around when it was knocked out of his hand by a flying dark blur.

For a moment, confusion reigned inside the room. All the Winchesters heard the ferocious growling and felt their bodies bumping into each other. As they all tried to save each other, it took them a couple of seconds to realize none of them were currently in danger.

“What the - ?” John wondered in confusion as he focused the large dark wolf that was attacking the vampire for all it was worth. It was going all out berserker. And failing, John realized when the wolf let out a pained yelp for the third time.

The vamp sneered irately, “You forgot. I know how you fight, dog. You are going to be my bitch before the end of this fight.”

The vampire scratched the wolf’s stomach as it grabbed the wolf’s rear flank and ripped it off of its neck. The wolf took vampire skin and meat with it but dropped it when it collided with the motel wall. A weak whimper sounded and the wolf laid there for a moment before the wolf staggered to its feet once more.

While it had laid there, the vamp ordered cuttingly, “Stay down, bitch. I’ll take care of you later. If you’re lucky, I’ll only feed you to my nest when I’m done with you. And you, dog, are never lucky.”

The vampire turned to see John reach for his gun and growled menacingly. It moved forward only to feel the impact of the wolf launching onto its back. The wolf’s jaws dug deeper into the gaping wound on the vampire’s neck. The wolf/vampire fight was back on while the vampire tried to get another good hold on the wolf’s neck.

Meanwhile, John took aim with his recovered weapon, not really caring about either of the creatures in front of him. As far as he was concerned, they both had to die. At the last second, Adam shot forward and knocked John’s aim off.

“Not the wolf,” Adam ordered adamantly.

“What?” John glared at him and demanded, “Why the hell not? What the hell do you mean, ‘not the wolf’? It’s not a normal wolf. Even you can see that.”

“Not the wolf, Dad,” Adam insisted.

John shot a questioning glance over to Sam, wondering if Sam knew what the hell was going on. Sam nodded his head in agreement and reinforced firmly, “Not the wolf.”

John rolled his eyes slightly, acknowledging that he’d probably never understand his boys, then aimed for the vampire, watching for a good shot.

The vampire finally got a hold on the wolf’s rear flank and dug in his claws. The wolf whimpered and whined as it clamped down harder and yanked. The vampire howled in pain and turned to slam its back against the wall, using the impact to crack several of the wolf’s ribs.

The Winchesters flinched at the bone crunching sound and saw the wolf yank its head back then howl hoarsely in pain. It choked slightly on the vampire meat before it sagged to the floor. The vampire grinned viciously and lifted its foot to stomp on the wolf.

John took his shot but the vamp moved so the heart shot went into its torso without hitting anything vital. John cursed automatically and fired again, knocking the vamp off balance. It moved forward but only managed a few steps before another dark shape flew in front of John to knock the vamp to the ground. Another vicious snarl sounded before the crunch of bone and the gurgle of something choking on its own blood.

The Winchesters stared in amazement at the black sleek jaguar that was ripping the head off of the vampire in front of them. John motioned the boys across the beds and closer to the door as he covered them. John tossed out with heavy sarcasm, “Can I shoot the cat?”

“Well, um, he’s kind of helping us,” Adam argued hesitantly. “It’d probably be rude.” He ignored his father and started toward the wolf, intent on helping it. He’d only got one step before the jaguar’s eyes swerved over to lock on him. He stared in amazement at the bluest eyes he’d ever seen on any type of cat.

“Adam,” John hissed in warning but the jaguar’s warning growl was much more impressive.

Adam immediately retreated a couple of steps with Sam’s determined grasp assisting him greatly. “Ow, watch the merchandize, Gigantor,” Adam complained automatically, not taking his eyes off the animals present.

The vampire was not moving at all but the wolf gave a pained growl/groan while it cautiously stood. It heard the jag growl at Adam and immediately launched itself at the jag who it perceived as its new enemy. Considering how badly the wolf had been weaving, it was amazing it had even gotten close to it.

The jag batted it away easily and growled in warning while it kept an eye on the Winchesters. The wolf fell and rolled slowly then swung around and wobbily pounced. It grappled the jag as the two met up on their hind feet, snarling and snapping at each other.

John reached over and grabbed Adam’s arm then pulled. “Come on. This won’t last long. We need to leave now, if you don’t want me killing them.”

They all turned to the fight when they heard the jaguar growl angrily then bit down hard on the wolf’s left shoulder. The pained howl cut off midway through and the wolf’s body went limp while the jaguar released it from its jaws. The wolf rolled onto its right side and laid there before the jaguar, panting wildly and bleeding steadily.

The wolf valiantly tried to get up a couple of times but all it managed to do was raise its head off the ground. It whimpered and whined in pained confusion, causing John to raise his gun again. He only wanted to put it out of its misery. The jaguar huffed out a weird sound, almost like it was exasperated, then leaned over and placed its jaws over the wolf’s exposed neck. 

“Dad, stop it,” Adam demanded swiftly.

“Can’t now, son,” John argued reluctantly. “If I shoot it now, it could cause its jaw to lock then the wolf is dead anyway.”

The jaguar growled low in its throat while the wolf continued to weakly thrash about. The jaguar seemed to roll its eyes in a very human manner then bit down softly, drawing even more blood. The wolf groaned low in its throat and its eyes rolled back into its head then it was silent except for its panting.

“Dad,” Adam whimpered sympathetically.

“Shhh,” John hushed him, curious as to what was going on.

“It’s still breathing, Adam,” Sam whispered in his ear. “Watch its breathing. Hear it.”

Adam looked at the wolf’s chest and studied the rapid rise and fall as the injured animal’s worked desperately. He turned back to the jaguar and saw it, cleaning the wounds on the wolf’s chest and shoulder. It moved very quickly as it continued down to the clawed side and stomach.

They were so focused on the scene before them that they all jumped in fright at the loud roar when it sounded from the door. They turned to gape at the huge brown bear that stalked into the room and over to the wolf and jaguar. The bear nudged the wolf, causing the jaguar to hiss at it and swatted it on the nose. Remarkably the bear just sat on its hunches and wiped at his abused nose while it rumbled discontentedly. The jaguar rumbled back and it soon seemed like they were talking to each other.

“Okay, when did we drop onto Dr. Dolittle’s island?” Sam wondered aloud.

The bear huffed again at the jaguar then walked over to the nearest bed and swiped the bed spread off with its teeth. It pulled it over to the wolf then crawled back to the bed to grab a pillow off the bed and laid it on the floor next to the wolf. The whole time the jaguar seemed to be talking to the wolf based on the constant rumbling sound from deep within its chest.

When the bear was done, the bear scooped up the wolf and gently laid it on the pillow which was on the bedspread. The jaguar positioned itself behind the bear and the bear let out a loud bark. It then moved in front of the spread while a large black raven flew into the room. It circled around a couple of times before landing on top of the bear.

“What in the hell?” John wondered aloud before glancing over at his sons. He honestly wasn’t surprised when he saw that Sam was videotaping this weird procedure with his cell phone. Adam meanwhile was watching the wolf with an intensity that greatly worried John.

The bear grabbed a corner of the spread up into his mouth then turned, allowing the spread to travel down his back. The raven flew up a bit then settled back down, fixing her talons into the spread and the bear’s back which caused a discontented grumble from the bear. The jaguar lifted its end in the back and the wolf was now in a small hammock between the animals. The jaguar growled with its mouth full and the procession exited the room slowly.

The Winchesters watched in amazement as the animals carried their injured out of the room and into the forest at the side of the motel. They were also shocked to see at least five vampire corpses waiting for them in the parking lot. The corpses were covered with bite marks and were torn to shreds.

John shook his head, unable to determine what he was actually feeling at the moment. “I’m not sure whether to just thank them or help them out.”

“Or both,” Sam added.

John scanned the area again and noticed the animals had already disappeared. “Well, we still have work to do. We need to make sure that these are all decapitated then salt and burn them. We also need to double check the nest because there are at least three more by my count.”

“We need bury these as well,” Sam continued as he moved back inside to get his machete and other supplies.

Adam continued to stare at the spot where the animals had disappeared into the woods near their motel room. John touched his shoulder gently, causing Adam to jump in surprise. John wondered with concern, “Are you alright, son?”

Adam let out a ragged breath then nodded slightly. “Fine,” Adam muttered under his breath then moved to follow Sam. He really hoped the wolf was alright and desperately wanted to chase after the animals to make sure. But, in order to do that, he’d have to tell his family why and that was one thing that he’d sworn that he’d never do.

John watched his youngest trudge off with a disturbed frown on both of their faces. John wondered what all had actually happened here tonight and why Adam seemed to take it so personally. He also tried to figure out why that wolf, and possibly the bear, had seemed so familiar.

Chapter Text

------------------ SPN --------------------------- SPN -----------------------

Chapter 8 - Cat

For a long time, all Dean saw was the normal blood red film through the wolf’s natural black and white vision. He was in so much pain that the rage was the only thing keeping him conscious but he couldn’t let the vamp get his family. When his ribs were crushed between the wall and the fully charged vamp, he felt the end coming but the vamp was still alive so he couldn’t give up yet. He heard the menacing growl and blindly charged again, hoping his family was out of the room by now.

It took him too long to figure out that he wasn’t fighting the vampire anymore. He moved slower now and finally made out the black cat in the weaving, spinning room. He was barely conscious anymore but knew cats weren’t any better than vamps. Or, at least, most weren’t. In fact, he only knew of one that was better than anyone he knew, one that he trusted with his life and that one was now dead.

His overtaxed body responded too slowly to his commands and the cat got first blood, biting him in his scarred shoulder. Scorching heat flared throughout his body from the bite mark as the teeth dug in, drawing blood he really couldn’t afford to lose. It was almost too much for him as he tried to breathe through it.

He couldn’t lose consciousness now. Not only was his family still in danger, if he lost it now, he would turn in front of them and they would know. They would kill him for the monster he was. He knew that well enough. Hell, he’d even counted on it. But he wasn’t ready. Not yet. He wasn’t done with his mission.

He didn’t even realize that he’d rolled over for this cat until it started to approach him again. Too late, he was in the wrong position for all this. His neck was bared. It had no defenses which meant . . . No! He couldn’t do this, not again. He couldn’t let it happen again. He feebly scrambled and tried to make his overtaxed body respond but it was too late. He felt the cat’s teeth hit their mark and his eyes roll into the back of his head then it was all over. He should have stayed dead all those times when he’d had the chance.

*********

“Be still,” The overpowering voice commanded harshly inside his mind. He had to obey. He had no choice. Nature had dictated that for him but he wasn’t surprised in the end. Choice had never been an option for him. Not since he was four. Probably not ever. He’d always had to submit, no matter how much his spirit rebelled against it inside him.

“Stay awake,” it hissed angrily. Again, he had no choice. He struggled and struggled to obey. He didn’t know how long he fought  for consciousness before he finally received his reward.

“Sleep.” This order he gratefully obeyed. He gave into the darkest abyss once again and the pain-filled world fell away as he completely let go. He was home again.

**********

Pain still radiated throughout his body but it was much better than it had been. In fact, it was a little better than it had been in months. His brow wrinkled slightly as he felt something move against his nude body. He sniffed softly, knowing this was the quickest, least painful way of checking. But the scent . . . he hadn’t smelled that since. . .

“Cat,” he rasped out with disbelief as his eyes flew open. Surprised green orbs clashed with concern-filled spheres of deep blue and the two beings stared at each other for a long moment, drinking in the image before them. “I thought you were dead. Don’t ever do that to me again, you bitch,” Dean growled in warning before pulling it in close to him . . .

***********

Bright light from the outside filled the motel room then penetrated his eyes behind his eyelids, nudging him to consciousness. He let out a deep, relaxed sigh while he enjoyed the lethargic feeling of his completely sated body. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt this good or been this much at peace with everything. Somehow, he’d finally found a place for himself in this hosed up life he’d been given.

He slowly stretched his lax body, feeling the pulling of muscles and the complaint of nerves over different areas of his body. Some, he remembered. Others, not so much. He frowned in confusion when he didn’t feel anything next to him. For some reason, he knew something should be there.

“Cat!” he called out as his nose picked up the scent and his eyes shot open to search the motel room for the source.

Within seconds, it was obvious that he was very alone. There was no evidence of anyone else had ever been in the room either, except for the lingering scent that shouldn’t be here. But, then, it wasn’t exactly a room he remembered so he’d obviously missed a lot.

He sat up slowly, somehow knowing that he needed to be careful, even though he couldn’t remember how he came to be here. His head spun slightly but quickly righted itself. His stomach rumbled deeply, making him wonder when he had eaten last. He stood, keeping a hold of his bedside table.

The bed sheets fell away, revealing his decided lack of clothes. He grabbed his boxers from the floor below and winced as new pains made themselves known to him. He knew he needed a shower badly but he needed information more. He threw his dirty jeans on over his boxers and stumbled out of his motel room.

Raven lounged on a wooden bench outside his room, talking to a hulk of a man. He was about six foot six inches with muscles bulging from everywhere. Dean often thought that even the man’s eyelids had muscles. His coloring was very nondescript and common. Basic dark brown colored everything, his skin, hair, eyes, etc.

They both stood as soon as Dean’s door opened and the man greeted sourly, “It’s about damn time.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose at the aggression. “How long?”

“Three and a half days,” Raven returned automatically.

Dean didn’t show his surprise at the news even though he was extremely shocked. He normally had to fight for two hours of sleep, no matter how exhausted he was. Eight hours was a pipe dream. Three days, no way.

He mentally shook off the thought then demanded harshly, “Where’s Cat?”

The man frowned heavily as did Raven. “With you, as far as we knew,” the man answered quickly. “It’s not in there?”

“I think I would have noticed that, Bear. Don’t you?” Dean snapped irritably. They all stared at each other for a long minute before Dean’s stomach sounded again.

“You’re hungry,” Raven observed blankly, trying to hide her shock at this development. Bear’s face reflected her feelings.

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess. Do you know if I’ve eaten at all?”

Bear nodded, “Yeah, Cat had us supply meals the whole time you were out. It would have made you eat. You know that.”

“Just wasn’t sure if I was imagining it,” Dean muttered sheepishly.

Raven placed a gentle hand on his neck over the new bite mark as she pointed out softly, “This should have reassured you, but then, you haven’t looked yet, have you?”

Dean shook his head, trying to keep his eyes from watering. He’d been searching for his cellmate and friend for the past year and had almost given up hope. Actually he would have given up if every fiber in his body hadn’t rebelled at the thought.

Raven smiled reassuringly. “Wherever it went, it will be back soon. I promise. It hasn’t forgotten and it’ll be very upset if it finds you in danger of dying again. So go get cleaned up and we will get you some food. Deal?”

Dean gave a weak smirk then questioned, “The family?”

Bear answered gruffly, “They took care of all the remains and have already headed out again. The boys tried to track us but failed. They separated again. John went north while the boys went east. Both are being trailed per protocol. John found the weapon but kept it hidden from your brothers. Now you bathe and we’ll scrounge.”

Dean bit his lower lip slightly then asked hopefully, “Any chance of some eggs and bacon this time?”

They both smiled in response. “We’ll see what we can do,” Bear promised.

Raven leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You are looking much better. Cat is a miracle worker. We really need to keep better track of it.”

“I was thinking a short leash myself,” Dean replied sarcastically but with a lot of meaning before heading back into the room for a long hot shower. It was the best shower he’d had in years, literally.

Once he got out and dried off, he studied his reflection in the mirror. His skin now contained a slightly healthier hue to it. The dark circles under his eyes had lightened up a bit. He had a very visible bite mark on the left side of his neck where it met his shoulder and on his left bicep. Most of the scratches from the vampire were only red strikes now, with just a few scabs. Apparently, his body once again contained some supernatural healing. He wondered how long it would last this time.

Chapter Text

A week and a half later, Dean quietly snuck into the dilapidated abandoned shack after parking the Impala down the road so that he would not be heard. Voices in the other room carried to him as he crept forward to listen. He smelled the faint hint of sulfur in the air so he knew there already was a demon present.

Of course, he had already known that thanks to a psychic named Missouri who had enlisted his ragtag band’s help. She had had a premonition of things to come including her own death. Somehow, she also foresaw a way to contact Dean and, once Dean had saved her life, she let him know what the plan was for the rest of his family.

The lights started flickering as the wind outside picked up, gusting eerily. He heard his dad order Sam to recheck the salt lines at the windows and the doors. Dean melted into the darkness of the wall by the door leading into the main room so Sam didn’t see him when he walked passed to follow his father’s order. Then he heard his father ask for the Colt and Adam’s hesitation.

Dean could sense Adam’s wariness and knew where the demon was. Inside his own father. Dean glanced quickly into the next room to see their positions when Sam left the area. He couldn’t get a clear window to the Colt.

When Adam had hesitated too long, he heard John say, “Please.” He knew what Adam would do then. John never said please to his sons, ever. It was only orders.

So Adam held the Colt on his father while his father told him to go ahead and shoot. In the silence that followed, Dean knew that Adam would never be able to pull the trigger. Then he heard the ominous voice state menacingly, ““I thought so.”

Dean knew that time had ran out then and moved to help his brothers when all Hell broke loose. Bodies flew everywhere. The knowledge that he hadn’t been quick enough slammed into mind when his back crashed into the wall. He was actually shocked that he hadn’t flown through it, considering how rotted the wood appeared to be.

He scanned the room quickly and found Adam unconscious against the other side of the window beside him. Sam, on the other hand, was pressed against the wall closest to the door. His possessed father calmly picked up the Colt from where it had fallen on the floor, commenting dryly, “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Sam observed with hate in his voice. “Been looking for you a long time.”

“Well, you’ve found me,” Azazel taunted humorously.

“But the Holy water,” Sam stuttered.

“You think something like that works on something like me.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Sam promised hotly.

“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact, here. Make the gun there float to you, psychic boy,” Azazel mocked laughingly. He waited to make sure that Sam couldn’t pull that off before he moved away, observing dryly, “Yeah, this is fun. I could have killed you a hundred times today but this . . . this is worth the wait. . .”

Azazel stopped to look out the window beside Dean, “Plus, I get you in the bargain now as well.” He paused thoughtfully then continued tauntingly, “Your dad. He’s in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says, ‘Hi,’ by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”

“Let him go. Or I swear to God,” Dean threatened hoarsely.

“What? What are you and God gonna do? You see as far as I’m concerned this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours that you taught Wonder Boy there? That was my daughter,” Azazel informed him bitingly.

“Who? Meg?”

“The one in the alley that he shot? That was my boy. Understand?”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean gritted out with slight incredulity, trying not to grimace or show any other emotion. He knew Azazel too well. If the demon wanted to take all this out on Dean, nothing would stop it. “I wasn’t even there.”

“You trained him and he destroyed my family!” Azazel argued with stubborn passion while Dean sneered at him with contempt. “What? You’re the only one that can have a family? Your family destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed part of your family?” Azazel paused dramatically then his eyes lit up with undisguised glee. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I did. Still two wrongs don’t make it right.”

“You son of a bitch.”

Sam cut in then, “I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?” He wanted to distract the demon away from his brother but he also wanted answers. He needed answers. He needed all of this to make some kind of sense. He needed the truth.

“You mean why’d I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess,” Azazel corrected pointedly.

“Yeah.”

“You know, Deano, I never told you this while you were with us, in the Pit, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything. You wanna know why, Sam? Because they got in the way,” Azazel pointed out logically.

“In the way of what?” Sam gritted out through clenched teeth, hating that this thing was placing the blame for their deaths at his feet.

“My plans for you, Sammy. You and all the children like you,” it explained with barely disguised fanaticism.

Dean could tell that this was all getting to Sam so he interrupted abruptly with his usual cocky snark, “Listen, you mind just getting this over with because I really can’t stand the monologuing.”

“Funny,” Azazel snapped irritably then continued tauntingly, “But that’s all part of your MO. Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth.”

“Oh, yeah. What’s that?” Dean questioned smugly, knowing that this was going to hurt way more than any physical pain it could inflect. But he couldn’t let this creature get the upper hand on him and he couldn’t let it go after his brothers. He knew from several very painful past experiences just how far Azazel would go.

“You know, you fight . . . and you fight for this family but the truth is . . . they don’t need you.” Azazel paused significantly, watching the words impact the man before him like daggers through his heart. “Not like you need them. Sam. He’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you,” he commented maliciously then mocked. “Watch out for your brother, Dean. Dean, take care of Sammy. Dean, protect your brother.’ When did he ever watch out for you, take care of you, protect you? Did he care about you when the rent was due and the ‘bad men’ were waiting for payment? For money you didn’t have because he didn’t leave you enough?”

Dean did his best to ignore what Azazel had said but couldn’t stop the truth of the words from penetrating his weary soul. He had always known deep down that hard-learned fact, that Sammy had always been more important than him. For the most part, he was okay with it. However, to hear it said aloud and in front of his brothers, well, that brought a whole new level of pain to the forefront. He quickly hid the truth from his eyes but they both knew Azazel had reopened a deep oozing wound in Dean’s psyche.

Azazel smirked with amusement and glanced to the left at the now conscious but also pinned Adam. “Even your baby brother held more of Johnny’s attention. He took the boy to baseball games and everything. Ever been to a baseball game with Daddy, Deano? John even sent a card to him on every birthday, especially the ones when he couldn’t visit in person. How many of your birthdays did John miss, Dean? How many cards did you get? Cake? Anything? Did he even know it?”

“Leave him alone, you bastard,” Adam snarled out, irate over being used as a weapon against his older brother.

Azazel fixed his eyes on the youngest boy as he turned to taunt the newly awakened Winchester, “Oh, I’m just getting started, boy. Tell me, did he swear you to secrecy or are you just keeping his secret out of some misplaced loyalty? I know you haven’t told Sammy yet? Or John about it but don’t quite know why?”

Sam’s head swung around to stare at Adam while he desperately tried to figure out what else was going on. He thought he knew his family but the serious hurt that had appeared in Dean’s eyes earlier had shocked him to his core. Where the hell did everyone get that he was John’s favorite? And what secret was Adam keeping for Dean? Why did Adam know and not him?

Azazel leaned in close and play whispered but made sure that everyone could still hear him, “Is it because you and Deano are closer than normal? After all, you did spend a lot of time alone together and I know he trained you, oh, so well.” Adam and Sam both blanched at the incestuous implication.

“You’re sick,” Adam growled out, inwardly disgusted at the extremely obvious incestuous implication. “Dean would never –“

“Oh, you’d be very surprised what Deano would do,” Azazel mocked mercilessly before turning back toward Dean. “Isn’t that right, Dean? God and everything knows, I’ve even had him quite a few times myself. Hell, if there is anybody who hasn’t had Dean here, the list is very short. He loves to whore and slut around. You both already know that. He doesn’t really care who, or what, with. John knew. Knew from the time that Dean was, what, eight? Yeah, John knew very well all about his little pretty boy whore. In fact, chances are that Big Daddy Winchester knew from personal experience. Right, Deano? Whips, bondage, any kink, any time, any place. Doesn’t matter.”

Azazel worked himself back over to standing right in front of Dean. It ignored the stone cold glare Dean gave him because his flushed rosy cheeks were enough to give Dean away. Embarrassment and anger warred deep within Dean. Azazel smirked knowingly at Dean then upped the torture, “In fact, I think your brothers need a demonstration of what a willing little slut you are, Deanie baby. After all, not everyone can suck –“

“Know what?” Dean interrupted abruptly, intent on pushing the demon’s control, “Meg had quite a mouth on her, too. Not much of a gag reflex, either. And that boy of yours . . . yeah, I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Why don’t we have a competition to see . . .? Oh, wait. I forgot. We wasted them. Guess I win that, too,” Dean taunted back mockingly, more than willing to accept any physical pain over what Azazel was about to do in front of his brothers.

Azazel stared coldly into Dean steely glare then slowly lowered his eyes, only to bring them back up and slam Dean with the most intense physical pain imaginable. He was literally tearing Dean apart from the inside out, one slow piece at a time. He applied more and more pressure, wanting to torture the man in front of him to death so that Alistair could pick up where he left off down in the Pit.

           Dean screamed in pain, unable to hold it all in this time. He knew it was going to be bad but this was beyond what he remembered. He called out desperately between pained pants, “Dad. Dad. Don’t you let it kill me.”

            Only the pain increased and he felt his blood running out of his body faster than he could heal, even at his advanced rate. The only way he was making it out of this in one piece was if his father could somehow overpower Azazel. Dean didn’t hold out much hope for that but he had to try. Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t really have any kind of death wish.

“Dad. Please,” Dean begged with what felt like his last breath while mentally he called out to his last friend. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Dean’s head fell forward and his body relaxed against the wall as he lost consciousness. The only thing holding him to the wall now was Azazel.

Both of his brothers desperately cried out his name in unison then there was silence as they waited for an answer that would never come.

After a moment, they both heard their father plead sorrowfully with his own voice, “Stop. Please stop.”

It wasn’t much time but it was enough to allow Sam to break free and grab the Colt. Sam shot John in the leg as Azazel took him back over which released Dean and Adam from their positions against the wall. But Sam just couldn’t pull the trigger, knowing that it would kill their father.

Azazel smoked out of John’s body as fast as it could and fled. Sam and Adam gathered up John and Dean to rush them to a hospital in the Impala. Dean was barely conscious but he still managed to let Adam know where his baby was. Dean tried to stay conscious as he heard his father chew Sam out for not taking the shot and Sam arguing his case that they could all live to fight another day. Dean really appreciated that sentiment. He couldn’t stand to lose any of his family after all that had happened to him.

Unfortunately, their Winchester luck held. They didn’t make to the hospital in the Impala.

Chapter Text

Dean’s surprised eyes flew open as soon as he felt the intense burning in his veins from the very familiar virus that now raced throughout his body. He could feel the sharp teeth that were still embedded deep inside his neck, having reopened the skin over the scars of previous bites. His injured body started to mend itself, resulting in startling consciousness that swiftly informed him of the despised foreign object which was once again lodged in his throat. He started involuntarily choking while his throat automatically fought to dislodge the hated ventilator inside of it. The teeth retracted from his neck and a sand-paper rough tongue quickly lapped over the bite wound, sealing the virus inside his body. Finally, the creature above him moved back from his neck and into his field of vision.

‘Cat!’ Dean thought with frantic elation as the dark-haired man helped him remove the ventilator from Dean’s body with practiced ease. This was by no means the first time this had happened to him and it probably wouldn’t be the last. In fact, Dean had stopped counting the number of times this same thing had happened after the fiftieth episode. Dean continued to cough and choke from his dry, scratchy throat while Cat helped him drink some water to soothe his deeply abused anatomy. Dean felt the soreness ease away slightly and drew in a shaky breath.

“I am really getting tired of finding you on death’s door,” Cat snapped irritably, now that he had his friend conscious and out of danger. “I am about to go back on my word and start using the voice. Do you understand me? Dean?” Dean swallowed hard in dread then nodded in confirmation, not yet trusting his voice. “Good. By the way, there is a demon here. In the basement, I think. Possibly the boiler room. Please do not ask me how I know that but I do.”

Dean’s eyes widened exponentially then he rasped out harshly, “Clothes?” Cat tossed a canvas covered bundle on his bed then Dean ordered hoarsely, “Check this side of the hall, two rooms down. See if my family’s still there.” Cat nodded immediately then swiftly left the room.

Dean quickly slipped on his boxers and jeans while resting most of his weight on the edge of the hospital bed. He was tossing on his t-shirt when Cat returned and informed him briskly, “No one is in that room and I have already checked the others.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Dean muttered under his breath before he stood upright, swaying slightly.

Cat immediately grabbed up the bag and moved to steady Dean while he demanded irately, “What the hell do you think are you doing now?”

Dean accepted his friend’s help with uncharacteristic willingness and towed Cat out of the room, snapping irritably, “Demons are after my family and there is possibly one in the basement with them right now. What the hell do you think I’m doing?”

Cat rolled his eyes dramatically but helped Dean to the elevator. They didn’t have a long wait as the elevator was already on its way to their floor. The doors opened and Dean found himself staring into his brothers’ shocked eyes. For a very brief moment, no one moved.

Adam was the first to speak as Dean snapped out of it and hurried into the elevator car, still dragging Cat with him. “Dean? What the . . .?”

“Not now,” Dean dismissed abruptly while he motioned to Cat to punch the correct floor number. Luckily, thanks to Cat’s injection, he actually had enough strength to stand on his own. For the moment anyway.

The doors closed while Dean introduced briskly, “This is Cas, or Cat. He prefers Cas. Cas, these are my brothers, Adam and Sam. Cas spotted a demon in the basement and Dad is missing so here’s the plan. When we get down there, Cas is going to show us where they are. Cas and I will come in from the back while you and Adam distract it. Start exorcising it as soon as we have it occupied. Where’s the Colt?”

“Dad has it,” Sam answered tightly. “I knew he was going to pull something like this. Damn obsessed . . .”

“Can it!” Dean commanded harshly in an excellent imitation of John’s drill sergeant voice. “Save it for later. Focus. This is important. Adam, while Sam is exorcising, you have to get Dad to kill the bastard. Understand? Give us time to work our way around back and be ready. You’ll know the signal when you see it.” The elevator landed on the appropriate floor and they quickly split up according to plan.

------------------ SPN --------------------------- SPN -----------------------

“It’s very unseemly! Making deals with devils,” Azazel taunted with patronizing glee then paused before continuing. “How do I know this isn’t just another trick?”

John answered tightly, trying very hard to keep the fury he felt for this creature at bay, “It’s no trick. I will give you the Colt and the bullet . . . but you gotta help Dean. You gotta bring him back.”

“Why, John, you’re a sentimentalist. If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them,” Azazel mocked lightly.

“It’s a good trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do Dean,” John cajoled desperately.

“Don’t be too sure. He killed some people very special to me. But still, you’re right. He isn’t much of a threat. And neither is your other son, of course. You know the truth, right?” Azazel taunted lightly. “About Sammy . . . and the other children?”

“Yeah. I’ve known for a while,” John admitted reluctantly.

“But Sam doesn’t, does he? You’ve been playing dumb,” the demon surmised correctly.

“Can you bring Dean back? Yes or no?” John demanded with stalwart steadfastness, unwilling to be drawn in by this abomination.

“No. But I know someone who can. It’s not a problem,” Azazel answered dismissively.

“Good. And before I give you the gun . . . I’m gonna wanna make sure that Dean’s okay, with my own eyes,” John clarified forcefully.

“Oh, John, I’m offended. Don’t you trust me?” Azazel asked innocently. John scoffed in derision. Azazel smirked with cocky amusement. “Fine.”

“So we have a deal,” John verified solemnly, not really daring to hope.

 “No, John, not yet,” Azazel disagreed adamantly. “You still need to sweeten the pot.”

“With what?” John demanded tightly.

“There’s something else I want, as much as that gun. Maybe more,” it drawled out dramatically.

John’s eyes filled with dread as he fought back to revulsion and horror at what he knew was coming from this bastard demon in front of him. His soul, dooming himself to an eternity of pain and torture. Could he do that to save his son? ‘No contest,’ John answered himself internally with ease. He would do anything to save his boys.

Azazel smiled manically, relishing this moment, then his eyes widened in surprise and he hissed in denial, “No!”

Two dark shapes flew into John’s field of vision and the demon possessed man that had been in front of him now laid on the floor. With a simple hand flick from Azazel, one of the shapes flew back into the basement brick wall with a pained yelp while the other held tight onto the man’s face. The black jaguar growled low in his throat in warning.

The two demons that had arrived with Azazel rushed forward to help their master when they heard the exorcism begin. They both glanced at each other uncertainly then at the speaker. They looked back down at their master and knew they were out matched.

John glanced over and saw Sam reading the exorcism while Adam yelled at his dad, “Kill the son of a bitch!”

John returned his gaze to Azazel and aimed the Colt. But then the thought of his eldest lying upstairs in a coma crossed his mind again and hesitated for an instant. ‘But Dean.’

“Now!” Adam ordered harshly which caused John to pull the trigger and instantly felt like he had just killed his oldest son. Sometimes John really cursed his military training. The total obedience to orders had probably just ended Dean’s chance at life.

The meat suit under the jaguar jerked then started to convulse as it let up with flameless fire from the inside. Flame flashed throughout the body showing eerie orange tinted x-rays of the skeleton within as the entire demon inside died a horrible, agonizing death. Finally, after a few tremors, the body stilled and the jaguar let go of the mouth. Apparently, it was trying to keep the demon from smoking out before it was killed, John realized belatedly.

“Cas! Dean needs help,” Adam shouted out in warning from the floor by the outside basement wall.

John’s head jerked up at his son’s name as he turned toward his youngest, but he was stopped short from his run by the jaguar that shot past him. He knew that he hadn’t taken his eyes off the predator headed toward his sons but suddenly he was staring at a nude man then a clothed dark-haired man that squatted beside another nude body. Adam was right next to the other nude body.

John shook his head slightly, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Sam did the same, before he hurried over with Sam. John stared down at his oldest son’s relaxed features and wondered how the hell Dean had gotten down here. He also wondered what had happened to his clothes, or, at least, his hospital gown.

Cass quickly ordered Adam to toss a sheet over Dean before he pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead. He closed his eyes in concentration but could still hear everything in the background. He focused more on his need to find out what was wrong with his friend. Again.

“What the hell?” Sam started then grumbled as he finally saw his older brother, “I thought he was better. He looked fine in the elevator.”

“What are you smoking?” Adam snapped incredulously. “He was in a coma not twenty minutes ago. Of course, he’s not fine. Not to mention . . .”

Cas’s sharp glare cut Adam off before he gave away Dean’s secret. Adam caught the warning and quickly shut his mouth. Cas relaxed slightly before informing them clinically, “He is still healing. He wasn’t supposed to be involved in this altercation, but he is not good at following orders.”

Cas frowned thoughtfully then told them as he stared at them, “He needs to leave here and find a place to hole up until he can completely recover, for a change. Do you have such a place in mind where he can do this? Or are you planning on rejoining the hunt now?”

John and Sam stared at him without comprehension, still confused as to who this man was and what the hell was going on. Adam ignored them and answered quickly, “Well, I’m not leaving him. We can take him to Uncle Bobby’s to heal up. You coming with?”

“Yes,” Cas answered firmly.

Adam nodded and stated wryly, “I figured as much. We have an old clunker nearby that we can pull around back and load him up from here.”

“Now just hold on a damn minute,” Sam interrupted harshly. “He needs a hospital. And doctors. He doesn’t –“

“You are right,” Cas interrupted abruptly. “He does not need that. They will not know what to do with him if he stays here anyway. You already know that,” Cas added, narrowing his eyes. “Or are you just going to ignore that the doctors told you the same thing not long ago?”

“How did you know that?” Sam demanded hesitantly.

“Because that is what they always say because they do not know. No one does,” Cas hissed irritably. “I will not debate this with you. A gunshot was heard so we do not have the time for this discussion. Either help me or get the hell out of my way because Dean is NOT staying here another moment.”

Adam shoved Sam to get him moving and commanded imperviously, “Get the car and bring it around. I’ll double check the rooms. Dad, help Cas with the rest of this stuff. What do we do about the body?”

“There is salt in his bag by the back door and a furnace right there,” Cas pointed out the obvious dismissively. “I will take care of it if you want to watch him,” Cas offered generously to John who nodded. They switched places and Cas reassured him, “He is really just resting at the moment. Use the same first aid as is called for when someone is in shock. Warmth and calm.” John nodded again while Cas moved away to take care of the body.

Everyone moved to take care of their parts while John kept watch over Dean. He saw Cas easily move the body to the furnace after covering it with salt. Cas finished quickly then headed back over to John with a canvas bag in hand. He motioned John away and ordered firmly, “Check outside. The car should be here soon. I got him.”

Cas immediately started pulling clothes out of the bag and dressing Dean. He ignored John’s presence, working as swiftly as possible. His only concern was getting Dean away from here before anything else happened to him. He made sure to attach Dean’s boot knife in the proper place, just in case.

John wanted to argue but knew that Dean was damn heavy and this Cas wasn’t human so he could definitely bear Dean’s weight better, especially since John still had a bullet hole in one leg and an injured shoulder from the car wreck. Part of him wanted to kill Cas outright, knowing that this thing had bit Dean at least twice. Yeah, he remembered the night with the vampires but, at the same time, he felt like he needed more information so he would watch and wait. At least, for now.

********

After a quick stop at a superstore where Cas popped out and came back with a cooler which he placed in the trunk, they headed out of town and towards Bobby’s. John had already called Bobby to let him know they were coming. John glanced back through the rearview mirror and saw Cas staring at his son with a strange expression. He tried to get the man to answer his questions but, other than telling John to wait until Dean woke up, the man-thing remained unresponsive.

After two quiet hours down the road, they all heard a deep groan which was immediately followed by Cas’s emotionless command, “Pull over immediately.” Cas barely got Dean out of the car before Dean started puking his guts out. Cas sighed heavily and told John who was about to get out to check on his son, “Pop the trunk. Do not touch him. He needs to finish this on his own.”

When Dean finally finished hurling and tried to wipe off his mouth, Cas stopped him and handed him a bottle of water. Dean grimaced with disgust then rinsed and spat out all he could. He drank some of the water then growled with a raspy voice, “What the hell, man? Did you bite me again? You know what biting that often does to me.”

“No,” Cas bit out irritably, “I did not bite you again. Yes, I do know damn well what that does to you. That is not what this is. This is your body bitching at you because I have come back four times in the past two months to find you at death’s door, you freakin’ imbecile. No body can take that without repercussions, especially you.”

Dean blinked up at him a moment with a stunned expression then snarked with automatic sarcasm before he could think his words through. “Gosh, Cas, don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”

Cas swiftly grabbed him by his t-shirt and yanked him up so they were face to face. The move was so quick and effortlessly that the other men were still blinking in surprise after it was already done. There wasn’t any time for them to intercede.

“How I really feel right now does not allow for words, assbutt,” he growled menacingly in a very low voice. “I am one word away from going back on my promise to you. Understand, boy? One freakin’ word. Feel me?”

Dean’s face drained of color at the overt ire and very thinly veiled threat. He swallowed slowly before he nodded once in acquiesce. He fought the instinctual urge to cower away from his friend but only barely.

“Now get into the damn car and do not say another word until I have calmed down. Or else,” Cas warned softly. Dean nodded again and Cas slowly let go of his shirt.

Dean stepped back slightly then turned to the car, only to pull up abruptly again. His whole freakin’ family was watching his little domestic dispute with wide shocked eyes. He felt Cas breath down his neck and knew he was trapped. He grimaced slightly, knowing he had no other option at the moment. He mentally tucked what was left of his pride back together while he slowly climbed into the car, feeling like he was on his way to the gallows.

He had noticed the barrier of men blocking the front seat and knew Cas wouldn’t let him sit in the front without him. So he climbed into the backseat with a heavy mental sigh, ignoring the pain flaring in his body from all his recent mistreatment. His head pounded, his ribs throbbed, and his throat ached. He felt dizzy and vaguely nauseated again.

Cas slid into the backseat to his right while Adam climbed in through the back door on the driver’s side. Sam sat in the driver’s seat while John took his place up front next to Sam. John really wanted to be seated in the back in between this creature and his son but couldn’t with his injury and all the family currently in the car.

Both John and Sam turned to look at Dean but Dean quickly focused his eyes on the floor. He felt the waves of anger radiating off of Cas. They forcefully buffeting against Dean’s psyche through their bond. He exhaled slowly and softly in an attempt to control his churning stomach.

Cas seemed to sense this because he shoved a ginger ale and some crackers into Dean’s hands with the order, “Eat.”

Dean accepted the items and stared at them sullenly without looking up. His jaw ticked while his eyes slid shut again. He tried really hard to ignore his friend’s anger but things just didn’t work that way for him, them, anymore.

“Dean,” Cas growled low in warning.

“Damnit, Cas,” Dean snarled softly. “Give me a damn minute. I can’t . . . you . . . too much.” He struggled to give words to what was wrong but he was losing control of that under Cas’s intense anger. He pressed his lips together to stop his ramble, not wanting to sound any weaker than he already had.

Suddenly, the car radio turned on in spite of the fact that the engine had not been started yet. The others in the car jumped slightly and stared at the radio suspiciously as Led Zeppelin’s Ramble On blared, allowing Dean to relax slightly. The rest of the occupants took quick glances around the car to make sure that they were still alone on this stretch of highway.

At the instant that the radio started playing, the ominous waves slowed their roll over Dean and he could almost breathe again. Within a few more seconds, he could definitely breathe and he softly sighed in relief. He let his head fall back against the seat and evened out his breathing. He offered softly, “Thanks, Cas.” He didn’t notice the others immediately staring at his friend with concerned dread.

His muscles loosened up and he finally could do what Cas wanted. He took a cautious drink and a small bite of a cracker which he then sucked on. Food tended to stay in his stomach better when he was like this if he let it slowly dissolve in his mouth first. He sensed Cas calm down more now that he was doing what Cas wanted which in turn helped Dean.

“Dean?” John called quietly. Dean only opened his eyes enough to see his dad and Sam staring back at him. Dean sighed and cocked an eyebrow in question as he waited for more. His dad seemed to be having trouble with something. Finally John asked, “You okay?”

Dean gave his customary smirk, surprised that it came so naturally after being absent for so long. “Yeah, Dad. I’m good. You? I know Sammy looks like he lost his fight, considering the shiner on his face. Probably needs to train more. Getting sloppy. Is he okay?”

John and Sam exchanged a quick glance before John answered easily, “I’m good. Just a dislocated shoulder and bullet in the leg. No big. Sammy’s only a little banged up from the wreck.”

“Wreck!” Dean’s eyes flew wide as he remembered. He cursed under his breath then demanded, “Where is my baby?”

“Calm down, Dean,” John ordered quickly.

“Bobby towed it over to his place. You can take a look at it when we get there,” Sam replied as fast as he could, hoping that his brother didn’t blow a gasket.

Dean rolled his eyes at that lame evasion then took a calming breath. He pinched his nose by his eyes then gave a half smile before he rolled his head to the left and asked solicitously, “What about you, bait boy?”

Adam smirked humorlessly, “I’ve been a good boy. Just some bruises from Sammy’s so-called careful driving.” Sam glared back at him.

Dean actually grinned at that briefly before he took another bite and drink. “Good,” he commented absently.

“Dean,” John started seriously.

Dean interrupted him quickly, “No, Dad. Not now.” Dean cast a quick glance at Cas then continued, “I assume that we are headed somewhere to heal up, right?”

John nodded and offered, “Bobby’s.”

Dean mentally rolled his eyes and grumbled, Great. That’s just great. Oh, well, might as well end it all at once. He heard Cas’s mental growl but ignored him for the moment.

Aloud, Dean hedged firmly, “Look, I get that we need to talk. All of us. But Bobby’s like family, too, and I’m only going to go through this once.” If at all. “And to be totally honest, I’m still pretty wiped. So, let’s just wait until we get there . . . unless . . .,” he trailed off uncertainly, shifting a glance at Cas that was full of dread.

Cass cocked his head to the side in his normal birdlike fashion then confirmed solemnly, “Azazel is dead.”

“Are you certain?” Dean demanded harshly.

Cas nodded slowly, adding, “Positive.”

Dean narrowed his eyes then verified, “The Colt?”

“Affirmative,” Cas reiterated in a robot like manner.

“Thank God,” Dean muttered as his head fell back against the seat in relief.

“You would have to pray to do that,” Cas reminded him with dry cynicism.

Dean rolled his closed eyes before muttering, “It might be worth it, just this once.”

Cas scoffed under his breath before he ordered, “Finish your meal. Now.”

“Friggin’ drill sergant,” Dean insulted under his breath before putting another cracker in his mouth. As he chewed, he asked, “I get to sleep after this, right?”

Cas gave what might have been a small smile but it was more of a lip twitch. “Yes, Dean. After this you get to sleep. For one hour. You know the drill.”

Dean sighed heavily with his eyes still closed before he returned with weary resignation, “Yeah. I know the drill. Assbut, huh?” Dean smirked with amusement while Cas shrugged slightly.

The others in the car exchanged glances before John reinforced, “Eat and get some sleep, son. We’ll talk later.”

Dean had finished his five crackers by now and half of his drink. His body seemed to be slipping into a more relaxed state. He slurred out softly, “’M’kay. Thanks, Dad.”

Cas caught his drink as his body slipped back into unconsciousness then reached over to touch Dean’s neck. He closed his eyes for a moment to focus then leaned back satisfied. He saw Adam look at him questioningly.

Cas nodded while informing him, “He has slipped back into unconsciousness while his body heals itself.”

“Does he always pass out like that?” Sam wondered with concern.

“Only when he is grievously injured. He did not heal all the damage from the coma before going after Azazel. There was also the damage from the raid right before that and the shifter before that and the vamp fight before that and the raid that happened in between the two and . . . He needed at least three days bed rest minimum to regain some of his strength after he woke up. A week or two would have been even more preferable.”

“Is he still in danger?” John asked.

Cas cocked his head to the side again, like he didn’t understand the question, but then answered vaguely, “He is always in danger.” Cas then turned to look out the window, effectively dismissing them from his thoughts.

Sam wasn’t ready to let it go yet, as usual, and clarified suspiciously, “You said that he needed to eat but you only gave him a few crackers. Do we need to stop for food?”

Cas looked back at Sam and told him, “He ate all that he can right now. His stomach is not ready for more and will not be for another four to five hours. Until then, he will eat a few crackers at a time. In the meantime, I believe we should continue heading toward our destination unless our plans have changed.”

“Just what in the hell are you?” John snapped, unable to hold it in anymore. “His doctor or something?”

“I am his,” Cas responded easily then, once again, he shut them out by turning to stare back out the window.

The others waited for more of an explanation but when Cas tuned them out again, they realized he was done talking to him. Sam and Adam shrugged then turned to face forward while John continued to glare for another moment. He gave up and faced forward when Sam started the car again and they headed out.

Bobby’s was still a good five-hour drive away from Jefferson City and John wanted to get there yesterday. Sam tried to switch the radio station to something that he would enjoy after checking to make sure that Dean was still out, but no matter what he did, all that played was either Led Zeppelin or Metallica. Cas apparently was a friend that knew Dean very well.

Chapter Text

“Dean.”

Cas’s eyes popped open immediately at the call but realized that it was just a moment too late when he felt Dean being moved. As soon as he realized that the car had stopped, he knew they would be waking Dean up. He’d planned on waking up then to help bring Dean around.

Unfortunately, they, his family, decided to be proactive and woke him up before they had actually stopped. While he couldn’t fault them for this, using their hands to shake Dean awake was never a good plan. Of course, they didn’t know that but would soon learn.

Dean jerked away, immediately grabbing the knife out of his boot and a gun off of Cas. Just like clockwork, Cas mentally evaluated with pride. He had already slashed his father and aimed the gun at Sam before Cas barked out harshly, both verbally and psychically, “No, Dean! Stand down!”

Dean gasped as intense pain throbbed throughout his head at Cas’s command. Weapons instantly fell from his hands while they rushed up to grip his head in an attempt to keep it from falling off. Cas’s voice reverberated through his skull with an intensity that caused Dean to whimper and dive his head down into Cas’s lap. Dean’s knees hit the car floorboard with the instinctual need to cower and submit under Cas’s established superiority.

Cas snapped irritably at the Winchesters, “Get out now. All of you.” Cas made sure that his voice did not carry over to Dean. Uncertain but sensing that they had to, the Winchesters filed out of the car quietly. The fact that they didn’t want to didn’t seem to matter much as their bodies seemed to working automatically without them actually commanding them.

 In fact, John positively knew that he was not leaving his eldest alone with this . . . creature for another second. So he was more than a little surprised to find himself being greeted by Bobby and already at the front steps of Bobby’s home. He shook his head wondering what the hell had just happened.

Cas dismissed them from his mind and concentrated on Dean. He gently smoothed Dean’s hair, reassuring him, “Calm down, Dean. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Dean finally drew in a shaky breath. “Hate that, Cas,” Dean commented softly into Cas’s lap.

“I know. I fell asleep so I couldn’t stop them,” Cas apologized with a great deal of remorse. “I couldn’t stop you in time either.”

Dean shuddered in remembrance then exhaled heavily. “I know. And, thanks, but  . . .”

Cas gently tucked his hand under Dean’s chin and raised Dean’s face up to look into Dean’s eyes. Cas stared at him for a long moment then knew he got through as he felt Dean’s body slowly relax. When Dean finally sagged against him, Cas knew then that it was over.

Dean gave a weak smirk and a forced snark. “Okay. That was my ‘chick-flick’ moment for this century, and it’s over. Let’s get out of here.”

Cas gave a slight smile and opened the door. He got out and saw the Winchesters talking to another middle aged gentleman in blue jeans and a baseball cap who was apparently Bobby. John was involved in taking care of the injury Dean had dealt him. Cas turned back to Dean and made sure to stand close enough to catch him if he fell.

Dean stumbled slightly then caught his balance while holding onto the car door and waiting for his dizziness to pass. He had secured the weapons that he had liberated from Cas on his person. He’d tucked the gun in the back of his jeans and his knife was back in its sheath. He held out the paper bag that he had found in the back window. He cocked an eyebrow questioningly.

Cas nodded in answer then turned toward the group that had quieted and turned to stare when Dean had gotten out of the car. Dean followed his eyes then grimaced slightly. He muttered under his breath sarcastically as he started forward, “Yeah, that’s not awkward at all.”

“You chose this. You are the one who wanted this,” Cas grumbled under his breath as he moved to follow close behind Dean. “Remember?”

Dean stopped and spun around abruptly to confront Cas who once again stopped too far into his personal space. Dean ignored that for a moment because he was so used to it with Cas that he was actually surprised that it still registered at all. He snapped out irritably with dark sarcasm, “Yeah. Right. Thanks, Cas. I didn’t catch that the other fifty times you reminded me. Now zip it, pussy.”

“If anyone is the ‘pussy’ here, it is you. Bitch,” Cas rasped out huskily with slow measured tones. Cas kept a tight hold of his emotions which were all over the place at this point. His eyes flashed with more heat than Dean could handle right now.

Dean flushed uncomfortably and spun back around to find Bobby directly in front of him. Apparently, the others had closed the distance while he’d confronted Cas. Dean flinched slightly at being surrounded. He still had trouble keeping himself from fighting his way out of the circle. His breathing accelerated slightly while he ignored his panic and recently learned instinct. Cas sent a calming feeling through their bond and set a comforting hand on Dean’s back subtly so that the others couldn’t see.

Meanwhile, Bobby growled out irritably, “I could throttle you, boy.” Then he stunned Dean by wrapping him up in a tight, bear hug. Bobby continued gruffly with his face buried in Dean’s neck, “You don’t get to do this to me. I thought you were dead. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again or I’ll kill you. You got me, boy? You aren’t allowed to scare me like that again.”

Dean almost froze at Bobby’s first words but quickly gave Cas a hand signaled to ignore the threat in Bobby’s first sentence. The low growl he heard behind him told him that he barely got the signal out in time. He relaxed slightly only to tense up again as Bobby hugged him.

In his mind he heard Cas growl again and tried to mentally calm his friend while he briefly returned his second father’s hug, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was with this whole situation. Bobby was a lot like his dad as far as being a model for tough love. To have this much emotion pouring out of him made Dean even more uncomfortable than before.

Sam and Adam were on the right side to catch the hand signal and exchanged a questioning glance over it. They wondered briefly what it was all about and what it meant. It was definitely going to be a very long day for all of them.

“Well, don’t you look like hell warmed over,” Bobby observed drily as he drew back to let go of him.

“Dean, you need to sit down and eat,” Cas cautioned quietly from behind him.

“Cas,” Dean growled in warning and cast a glare behind him. He did not want attention called to his weakness. He hated being ill or injured in any way, especially now.

Unfortunately, it was closing the barn door after all of the animals had escaped. His family had heard and apparently agreed. Bobby seconded the notion as he grumbled, “Come on inside. I get the feeling that we all have a lot to get caught up on.” Dean rolled his eyes slightly but followed as all the men moved into Bobby’s house and then his kitchen.

Cas trailed behind the others with Adam at his side. He paused in the kitchen doorway and watched as Bobby offered beers to the others. He narrowed his eyes while he waited for Dean’s response. When Dean declined, he relaxed slightly.

Dean declined the offer of beer reluctantly but he knew his stomach couldn’t handle it right now. That didn’t mean that he didn’t want it. In fact, he’d been wanting to get smashed for over years now. Too bad, his stomach didn’t agree with his mind at the moment. So, instead, he concentrated on getting his now very cold, greasy burger out of the paper bag while he sat at the kitchen table. His family sat down around him with their beers. He missed their raised eyebrows over his drink choice.

Cas watched the scene passively while he reviewed the normal care items that he had to do for Dean, because Dean was too damn stubborn to take care of it himself. He mentally checked off items in his head before he saw what he’d been missing. He stared at Dean meaningfully and prodded him, “You forgot. Again.”

Dean knew without looking that Cas was talking to him and couldn’t help the small grimace at the observation. He decided it was best to just ignore his friend for the moment. He studiously unwrapped his burger with exaggerated concentration.

Cas narrowed his eyes in anger over Dean’s deliberately childish ploy and snapped, “Where?”

The others darted their eyes between the two men while Sam asked curiously, “Forgot what?”

“Where, Dean?” Cas reiterated with a threat of his command entwined with his anger.

Dean clenched his jaw a moment, wishing Cas would just let it go this once but knew why he couldn’t. Cas still thought it was important. Dean mentally scoffed at the notion. Finally, Dean snapped back tightly, “I don’t know. Okay?”

Cas took a menacing step forward and Dean struggled not to flinch. For a smaller guy, Cas could really project an image of barely restrained super power. Dean swallowed nervously when Cas demanded sharply, “When?”

Dean slammed his hands on the table and stood, leaning over it. He always found getting angry was much better than being nervous, because there was no way he was afraid of Cas, no matter how much power he could project. Or was he only projecting it? “I already told you. I. Don’t. Know. Okay? On the last raid. Or the one before that. Or somewhere, sometime else. Who knows? I don’t!”

“Dean,” Cas growled.

“No, Cas! Stop it. Just stop it, okay? They weren’t helping. None of them were. So it really doesn’t matter,” Dean argued hotly.

“You didn’t give them enough . . .”

“Bullshit, Cas! Didn’t give them enough what? Time. Come on. Really? I felt twice as bad and could only stomach half of what I do now,” Dean continued aggressively.

“Chuck said . . .”

“Oh, come on, man.” Dean dismissed with severe disgust before hissing vehemently, “Chuck’s one of them.”

“You trust him,” Cas argued aggressively.

“Not that much,” Dean denied instantly.

Cas shook his head and rambled to himself, “I must . . . he needs to know.”

“Whatever,” Dean huffed as he threw up his heads in defeat. “See ya in . . .” Dean trailed off, stunned, as Cas totally disappeared from his spot in the kitchen doorway. “What the . . .” He started to exclaim and walk forward to find his friend, only to encounter Cas, once again up close and in his personal space.

Cas popped up right next to Dean, so close that their shoulders touched. He pushed Dean down into his chair and grabbed his left arm extending it out on the table. He quickly attached a rubber band around Dean’s bicep while Dean was still trying to comprehend what had just happened. Cas ordered briskly, “Make a fist.”

When Dean didn’t react right away, Cas slapped Dean’s open left hand. Dean automatically closed his hand and found his voice. “Cas? What? Did you just . . . did you tele-  . . . Did you see Chuck?”

“Yes. He needs more blood,” Cas explained tightly while he pulled out a syringe. “You know the drill.”

“But what. . .,” Dean stammered slightly then ran his free hand down his face. He shook his head slightly. “How . . . “

“A fist, Dean. Now,” Cas ordered adamantly, dismissing Dean’s half formed questions.

Dean rolled his eye up to the ceiling and felt Cas jab the needle into his arm.  Dean growled in response, “Freakin’ vampire. Always with the blood. What the hell? He should freakin’ pay me for as much as he gets.” Dean glanced down to see Cas filling a second vial and felt his stomach roll. He leaned his head back in his chair.

“Quit being such a baby. Suck it up, pup,” Cas taunted lightly.

“Bite me, pussy,” Dean snapped automatically.

“Already did, bitch,” Cas replied easily then disappeared and Dean swore he heard something that sounded like . . . well, he wasn’t really sure.

“Be sure to tell Bill Nye about your new wonder powers, you big dick, so that he can bleed you dry, too,” Dean yelled out to the ceiling before muttering under his breath. “Freakin’ airhead.”

“Uh, Dean,” John started to get his son’s attention.

Dean shook his head slightly and glared as he warned harshly, “Don’t start. Not now.” Something in Dean’s eyes told his father to back off and surprise, surprise, his father did. Dean barely relaxed as he muttered darkly under his breath, “Stupid freakin hippie gets teleportation and I get the freakin’ plague. How fair is that?”

Dean sighed heavily then picked up his now very cold burger two-handed. He moved it toward his mouth, intent on doing what he was supposed to, what he needed to. A few inches away from his mouth, he paused and stared at the food in his hands. His mind acknowledged that he really did want to eat but his stomach churned and twisted. He felt borderline nauseous again just from thinking about it. He knew he couldn’t take another bout of vomiting. Or, at least, his ribs couldn’t.

He huffed with weary disgust and tossed the burger back on the table. He leaned his head down on his hands as he rested his elbows on the table. He gripped his hair tightly, aching to pull it out in frustration at his physical condition. He seriously wondered how much longer he was going to be able to keep this up.

“Dean,” John started again but on a different subject. He saw how thin Dean was, especially in his face, and was very worried about his son. He had just found him and he so didn’t want to lose him again, especially now that their vengeance had been dealt out.

“I know,” Dean cut him off abruptly. “I know, Dad, but . . .” He sighed heavily as he fell back against his chair. “I can’t. Not that,” he added, motioning to the burger. He glanced around the kitchen then wondered curiously, “Did Cas pack an ice chest or something?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered curiously. “There’s one in the trunk.”

Dean nodded slightly and moved to stand up but Adam waved him back down. “I’ll get it.” Adam hurried out the door.

Dean glanced at the other men briefly then stated to no one in particular, “After Adam comes back . . .”

The other men frowned slightly as Dean trailed off with a distant look on his face but, by then, Adam had already returned. He brought the small ten gallon cooler in and set it down beside Dean. Dean thanked him as he opened the cooler and searched through it.

Dean grabbed an orange juice, crackers, a ginger ale and a protein bar before closing the lid back. He opened the juice and protein bar first then quickly ingested them with only a few grimaces. He immediately popped the top on the ginger ale after and took a couple of drinks.

Once he was sure that his stomach wasn’t going to immediately rebel, he slowly stood, taking care to keep a hold of the table in the process. He felt his head spin slightly while the room shook and shimmied briefly then smoothed out. He relaxed his stance a bit when he knew he could make it. He turned with his ginger ale and crackers in hand then headed into Bobby’s study.

“Dean,” John called again, quickly running out of patience.

“In here,” Dean called back, not willing to stop until he was able to fall back onto the couch. As he got comfortable, he added wearily, “If we are going to do this, I’m at least going to be as comfortable as physically possible.”

The others filed into the room and found chairs. Bobby and John leaned against Bobby’s desk while Sam and Adam sat on a couple of chairs that they pulled into the room from the kitchen. Dean lounged on the couch in the most relaxed position he could find while still sitting up. If he laid down, he knew he’d be out.

Dean eyed the men as he took another drink of his soda and asked casually, “So, who gets the first shot?”

“Dean!” John warned while he glared at Dean, not appreciating his eldest’s flippant attitude. Sam rolled his eyes slightly at the scene.

Surprisingly, Adam actually got his question out first, “What’s the damage?”

Dean arched an eyebrow slightly in surprise then smirked cockily, “Same ol’, same ol’.”

“That bad, huh?” Adam retorted humorously.

Dean gave a slight smile then allowed with his head resting on the back cushion, “Still have a definite concussion and ribs are still bruised. Everything else . . .” He trailed off with a shrug.

“You look better than last time,” Sam commented hopefully.

Dean scoffed cynically, “You’d be surprised how fast that can change for me.”

“Who’s this Cas guy?” Bobby redirected, addressing his main concern first.

“What is he? And where the hell have you been, Dean?” John snapped irritably. “Do you have any idea . . .”

“Yeah, Dad,” Dean interrupted abruptly. “I do.”

“What happened?” John demanded harshly then frowned with concern when he saw Dean’s eyes totally blank out.

Dean stared at him for a long moment, debating, but there really was no choice anymore. His mind rebelled at the task he’d set for it. He consoled himself with the fact that this would be the last time he ever willing thought of it. Or, at least, he hoped so.

“Dean,” John prodded softly as he witnessed Dean’s eyes reflect so much pain and horror before he hid it all behind his normal game face. That one instant made John begin to wonder if he really wanted to know after all. It reminded him of POWs from the war that he had encountered in his military career. It hit John forcefully that his son was now one of those haunted men.

Dean’s eyes actually met his father’s again and he started his story slowly while his eyes lost their focus again. He was back in his past. “It was a simple salt and burn, you know. Could do it in my sleep. Adam’s ankle wasn’t a hundred percent and he seemed to be coming down with a cold or something so I waited until he was asleep to go. I would have been back before he woke up but . . .”

His voice trembled slightly and dropped another octave in remembrance, “Ghost showed itself and tossed me into a tree. Hit my head, as usual, then blasted the bitch. Had just uncovered her coffin when she reappeared. She started to charge and I went for the sawed off when she stopped suddenly. Her expression. . .” Dean trailed off again then shook himself.

“I turned to see what the hell was going on. Felt a pinprick on my neck then . . . lights out. Never saw a thing.” Dean paused, gathering his thoughts. He really wished that Cas was back and sitting next to him. He knew he should hate how dependent he was at this point but he was what he was.

He heard that sudden movement of air again and smiled as Cas appeared in the study, standing right beside him and the couch.  Cas was in between Dean and his father. Cas cocked his head to the side in question and prodded curiously, “Yes?”

“Glad you could make it,” Dean observed drily while he gave Cas a slight smile and patted the seat beside him. “Have a seat.” Cas stood for another moment before shrugging and sitting down where Dean indicated. Dean glanced over at him and wondered, “What did Chuck say?”

“Who is Chuck?” John growled irritably, annoyed at the lack of information he had.

“A doctor,” Cass replied at the same time Dean snarled, “A freakin’ Bill Nye wannabe.”

Cas then turned to Dean and answered succinctly, “Blood work will be done by the end of the day.”

“For both?” Dean clarified.

“Yes.”

“Anything else?” Dean prodded, sensing there was more.

“A few possible theories. We’ll talk later,” Cas told him meaningfully.

Dean narrowed his eyes as he studied his friend for a moment then nodded and agreed easily, “Later.”

He turned back to the others and continued his story, “I woke up . . . at first, I thought I was in a nut house minus the straight jacket. Thought I might run into my old friend, Jack, there. Everything was white or steel. No padded walls but so much white. Everywhere.”

“Misleading,” Cass mumbled under his breath next to Dean.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Very misleading. You’d think Heaven was white but this was definitely the other direction. It was way worse than ‘Cuckoo’s nest’ or a hundred Nurse Ratchets. It was Hell. There’s no other term for it.”

“A Pit,” Cass argued.

“Yeah, it was a pit, alright. A deep pit. An abyss, never ending,” Dean amended distantly after casting a brief glance at Cass. He ran a hand over his face then turned back to his father. “I was locked in Hell, except it appeared to be government ran or some shit. Took me too long to figure out what the hell was happening,” he finished wryly with a rueful shake of his head.

“What do you mean?” John questioned.

Dean glanced at Cass who shrugged uncertainly. Dean grimaced uncomfortably but admitted, “I was examined and tagged before I really knew I was awake. I kept thinking that head shot was just a really bad F’d up dream that I couldn’t wake up from. And, man, did I try to wake up. It made good ol’ Freddie’s antics into Care Bear pipe dreams.”

“They . . . they ran . . . tests . . . lots of them . . . and experiments . . . scenarios. All kinds. They had all kinds in there, too. Vamps, shifters, walkers, weres, humans . . . you name it, they had it.”

“What?” Sam exclaimed incredulously.

“Why?” Bobby wondered.

Dean focused on Bobby’s question rather than Sam’s and answered sardonically, “Good question. Turned out that there were several different parties who all had different agendas. One side searched for cures to these ‘mutations’, another worked on controlling the creatures, still another infected us on purpose to test both and see what they came up with.”

“The rest just tortured,” Cas added softly.

Dean subtlety moved his leg so that it touched Cas’s. He knew what Cas was remembering and knew how bad things got in the Pit sometimes. Dean gave a slight nod in agreement with Cas’s statement. “Yeah, torture. Good times. Good times. That was our play time in between. Our recess, if you will.”

“Why?” John repeated Bobby’s question.

“Just told you, Dad. For fun,” Dean reiterated sarcastically then gave a wry smile and a shrug. “To get their rocks off. Eternity is a long time without playthings.”

“To design a super soldier,” Cass rolled his eyes at Dean’s childish evasion then answered briskly for Dean. “The best possible combination of supernatural and natural. Monster and human but easily controlled. After all, what good is a super soldier if you cannot control it?”

“So they took humans and infected them to make them into this . . . this . . .,” Sammy sputtered.

“Yeah. That’s what I said,” Dean verified abruptly so wishing this was over. “I’m a real life Nemesis Project, only without all the ugly.”

“And strength. And guns . . .,” Cas muttered under his breath but Dean heard it.

“Can it, Shorty,” Dean snapped irritably.

“And you?” John wondered hoarsely, filled with dread. He had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to like this answer. Then he remembered the dark wolf and jaguar and he knew.

Dean stared at him for a long moment then smirked sadly but replied honestly, “Yeah, they infected me, too. Repeatedly. Vamp. Were. Shifter made me sick as a dog but didn’t take. Most of the others did. ‘Course, they cured some of it but . . .” Dean paused suddenly, searching for the words.

“Some things you can never take back,” Cas finished dryly for him. Then Cas frowned and asked curiously, “Shifter when?”

Dean glanced at him and frowned thoughtfully before he answered with a nonchalant shrug, “After you left. It was the last one before . . .” Cas nodded in understanding.

Dean’s eyes wavered then found his father’s again and informed him haltingly, “They didn’t just infect. There were spells. Rituals. . . You name it. It probably happened. . . Even things that you can’t name . . . Things I heard . . . Things I saw . . . There aren’t words.”

“I know you think I was only missing around two years but, God, did it feel longer, so much longer. Like decades. You have no idea,” he trailed off softly. His voice was barely above a whisper at this point as he fought against the horror of his past. Cas subtlety moved his hand to rest against Dean’s leg, out of view of the others.

Bobby frowned then looked at Cas and clarified, “You were in there with him, weren’t you?”

Cas nodded slightly. “I was his cell mate. I am not aware of how long I was there before he arrived but we were in the same cell most of his time there.”

Dean smirked easily, “Yeah, but when we started hatching a plan together, they moved him out of the facility. That’s where they screwed up. They thought they could control us better apart but we knew. Within a month, the inmates took over and I was out.”

“When?” John snapped.

Dean knew this was going to raise John’s temper but answered honestly, “About three weeks before you went to get Sammy.”

“And you didn’t call me!” John exploded angrily.

Dean stared at him unaffected and confirmed emotionlessly, “No, I didn’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

Dean rolled his eyes slightly before he reasoned irritably, “So many reasons. Which one do you want first? How about this one? I almost died breaking out and it took me over a week to heal enough to even be conscious. Or this one? They were hunting us all down like dogs. And then there was the fact that I still had to find Cas and the families of the other inmates who helped me escape”

“Shall I go on? Of course, we also found out that there were other compounds and I vowed to destroy every one of them so that no being ever had to live through the shit that I had just lived through. More? There was also the fact that some of the inmates that helped us escape actually were monsters, like the nest of vamps that Gordon cleared out. Those I didn’t promise amnesty, only a head start. How’s that, for starters?”

“You still could have called me and let me know you were alive, Dean. Do you have any idea . . .” John stopped suddenly, unable to continue for fear that a chick-flick moment would come out of him. Too much emotion had bubbled up inside of him, choking off his vocal chords.

“Alive?! What the hell are you smoking? I’ve never been more dead,” Dean growled out with a voice filled with all his repressed anger and pain.

Cas deliberately placed a hand on top of Dean’s thigh and squeezed it slightly to snap him out of it. Dean blinked in surprise then glanced down and sighed heavily at Cas, “Once again, Cas. Personal space, dude.”

“My apologies,” Cas replied immediately out of habit but did not remove his hand.

Dean returned to the conversation at hand, wanting this totally over by now. He turned back to his father stoically then continued with a soft but firm voice, “But the biggest reason, Dad, . . .” Dean paused dramatically and waited until his father looked him dead in the eyes before he continued firmly, “The biggest reason . . . ‘If it is supernatural, son, and we kill it. End of story.’” Dean quoted, mimicking John’s voice from memory. It was one of his father’s more frequently used lines.

With that, Dean pulled his boot knife out and rolled up his left sleeve. Cas moved to stop him but Dean shot a glare at him before returning his eyes to his father. Dean positioned the knife and ignored Adam’s shout of protest.

Dean sliced through the skin over his bicep enough to draw blood. He ignored the sizzling of his skin as it came in contact with his silver knife. Swallowing thickly to keep his bile down, he breathed through his mouth so that the nauseating smell of his burned flesh wouldn’t trigger another vomiting attack.

He wiped his knife off on his pant leg while his eyes stayed on his father’s widening eyes as the knowledge of what his oldest son now was penetrated his father’s mind. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see both Bobby’s and Sam’s shocked expressions as well. Adam already knew so Dean didn’t worry about him. He put the knife away and felt Cas sigh beside him as Cas tended to his newest wound.

Dean ignored his friend and finished the conversation with his father, “This is why, Dad. Now you know.” He paused a moment while Cas finished dressing his wound. He placed a hand on Cas’s thigh then gave a quick squeeze, knowing that Cas would get the message. He scooted forward to prepare to stand and felt Cas already getting into position. 

Cas stood gracefully then reached down a hand and pulled Dean upright. Once again the room spun slightly and Dean swayed then righted himself. Dean’s eyes hadn’t left his father’s. He explained tautly, “I know what you need to do but you’ll have to wait a little longer.” Dean glanced at Cas who appeared angry then back at his father. “We have one last target to take out. If I come back from it, you can take care of it then.” He gave John a faint smile and shrug, admitting ruefully, “That was always the plan anyway.”

Cas glared furiously at Dean before he growled angrily, “That was never the plan.”

Dean sighed heavily and asked tightly, “Can we not do this now? And, yeah, that’s always been the plan.” Between his exhaustion, pain and explanation of the worst part of his life, he could barely hold on to any resemblance of sanity at the moment. The absolute last thing he needed was a fight with Cas right now.

“Since when?” Cas demanded irately.

“Since you were taken away.” Dean snapped in kind then cajoled slightly, “Look, Cas, I know it sucks but this is the best option.”

“For whom?”

Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation and snapped sarcastically, “Everyone! Look, maybe you’re getting better and have awesome new wonder powers but I. . . Haven’t you been listening to Chuck? Or has he just not told you the truth?” Cas glared at him darkly and Dean had his answer. “So you do know. You just refuse to see it.”

“What truth?” Bobby demanded in frustration, not understanding any of this, but the main participants ignored him, too intent with each other.

“Chuck is not certain. He does not know anything for sure,” Cas bit out with emphasis.

“Bullshit! You know that’s bullshit. You know. You’ve seen the signs. Ignoring the situation doesn’t change anything,” Dean exploded irately.

“What the hell are you two arguing about?” Sam tried to find out.

John took a more aggressive stance and stormed right in front of the two then yelled into their faces, “SHUT UP! Both of you!” Dean and Cas stared at him in shock for a moment, having completely forgotten about their audience. It was a short moment but long enough for John to demand firmly, “Now tell me what the hell you are arguing about? What truth and what the hell do you expect me to do when you come back?”

Dean snapped his mouth closed and stared at his father sullenly. Cas glared at Dean, clearly telling him to answer his father’s question. Dean ignored him. Cas growled low in his throat and Dean started to sweat, once again fighting centuries of instinct.

Tell him, Cas commanded adamantly through their psychic bond.

No, Dean argued stubbornly.

NOW! Cas ordered harshly in a psychic shout.

Dean groaned in pain and grabbed his head as he fought to ignore the command.

“Stop it,” Adam ordered frantically, jumping into the fray. “You are hurting him.”

“I am not hurting him,” Cas refuted in an abused huff. “He is doing it to himself because he is a stubborn moron.”

Adam rolled his eyes slightly before he took over. He knew his brother wouldn’t give in at this point. Adam rounded on his father and informed him tightly, “Dean expects you to kill him when he’s done with his mission. In fact, he’s counting on it.”

Cas growled menacingly again, low in his throat, while Dean sat down heavily on the couch with his head in his hands. He flinched slightly as he took a drink of ginger ale. Cas looked on with purpose, still very upset with his friend.

“Why is he counting on it?” Bobby wondered in confusion.

Adam glanced at Dean, slightly biting his lip over his hesitation, before he answered softly, “Because he’s already dying. Being killed will get it over with sooner.”

“You do not know that,” Cas rounded on Adam and growled angrily. “He does not know that. No one does.”

“Oh, come on, Cas,” Dean argued hotly from his seat with irate disgust. “Look at me. I’ve lost even more weight since the Pit, especially lately. I can barely eat anymore. I can’t keep anything down most of the time. How much longer do you really think I have? Your bites aren’t lasting any time anymore. Hell, just during this conversation, I barely cut myself. You had to wrap it to stop the bleeding and that’s after a bite less than twenty-four hours old.  What other evidence do you need? My body is shutting down.”

“There’s another possibility,” Cas disagreed vehemently.

“What other possibility?” Dean scoffed unbelievingly.

Cas glared at him meaningfully before he reminded harshly, “You have gone through something like this before and survived.”

“What? What the hell do you . . .?”

“THINK!” Cas ordered angrily, unconsciously including his command voice.

“Shit!” Dean flinched immediately, holding his head against the pain. “Okay. Okay. Stop that, Cas! It hurts! I’m thinking, okay?”

“My apologies,” Cas backed off slightly before verbally guiding Dean’s thought process, “Think back. Nausea, tired, slowed healing, . . .”

Dean’s brow creased in thought as he ran through his memories searching for the symptoms Cas was pointing out. He shook his head slowly then admitted reluctantly, “Look, I’d like to tell you that I remember but I spent my whole time out, trying to forget all the . . . shi-, stuff they did to me, especially the . . .”

Dean’s eyes shot open in horror as a memory hit him and Cas was very glad that Dean was already sitting down at the time. The color completely drained from Dean’s face and his entire body started to shake. His lips started moving, repeating a litany of denial, slowly gaining in volume. “No, no, no, no, no, no. . . . No! CAS!”

Cas moved swiftly to his knees in front of Dean and grabbed Dean’s face between Cas’s hands. Cas held him tightly and ordered, “Dean, Breathe! In. Out. In. Out. Calm down.”

Dean did as Cas instructed and slowly calmed down. Finally he whispered in a desperate voice, “Can’t be, Cas. Can’t be. It’s been too long. It isn’t possible. It . . . can’t . . .”

Cas stared into his eyes sympathetically and told him, “Nothing is certain. Not yet so stay calm.”

Dean stared back at him for a long moment then whispered back, “If it is, I’m screwed.” Cas’s lips twitched slightly then Dean huffed out irritably, “Shuddup. So not the time. So not funny, dude.”

“Later,” Cas suggested. Dean rolled his eyes and fell back with his head lying back against the back of the couch. Dean stared at the ceiling, feeling the panic that was barely being held at bay by Cas’s presence.

Cas sat back down beside Dean and asked casually, “So are we leaving or what?”

Dean gave a weak, short laugh.

“Hell, no, you aren’t leaving,” John snapped irritably. “Just what the hell are you anyway? Besides a jaguar skinwalker that is? And how are you hurting Dean?” Cas stared at John nonplussed.

Dean smirked slightly and defended, “Leave Cas alone, Dad. It’s not his fault.”

“Whose fault is it then?” John wanted to know.

“Mine,” Dean admitted ruefully.

“Dean,” Cass warned slightly.

“What, Cas? It’s the truth,” Dean argued reasonably then turned back to the others. This part was the easiest to talk about because it was almost normal. Not that any of this was easy to talk about.

“So they were looking for the super soldier, right? Well, you have to test everyone. See who’s the best, right? So there were these death matches. Like, a lot of death matches. Basically, you are locked in a room and they let monster after monster have at you until . . . well, until you died. Of course, in my case, I was always lucky enough to get revived. Yea, me,” Dean cheered with mocking sarcasm.

“Anyways, early on, I faced Cas in one of these matches. I lost,” Dean admitted with a shrug. “It happened.”

“Yeah, do not mention that you were my only fight that day and I was your fifth fight that day, and you were already badly injured,” Cas scoffed irritably.

“Whatever,” Dean dismissed. “So most monsters just kill but Cas here didn’t like to do that so . . .”

“Dean did not deserve to die. He has a good heart and soul. I could not kill him so . . .”

“Such a sap. So the only other option they allowed was to turn me,” Dean explained. “if Cas didn’t kill me, they would but they liked watching us turn into other things almost as much as us dying. It didn’t bother them if a vamp bit a werewolf and the wolf died. It was just another experiment to them, another mutation to study. So Cas turning me, allowed us both to live.”

“Except now he’s your Alpha,” Bobby pointed out.

Dean acknowledged wearily, “Yeah. Now he’s my alpha, which kinda sucks since I can’t turn cat anymore. Turning cat was cool! Loved the prowling thing.” John and Sam gave him a ‘what the hell’ look. “What? I did. I made it look good.”

Cas smiled briefly then frowned and confirmed in confusion, “You cannot? Since when?”

“Since they took you away,” Dean answered dismissively. “Of course, they might have cured the shift with one of the many injections they gave me. Just not the command voice. I mean, the link is still good. It’s just the shifting and healing that’s been affected as far as I can tell.”

“But your last injection had to be over a year ago and you have been bitten a few times since then,” Cas argued logically.

Dean shrugged, “Dunno. I heal decent right after the bite but it trails off quickly.”

“Or it could be that all the damage you keep taking is wearing your whole body down,” Cas snapped out irritably.

“Eh, tomayto, tomato.”

“I do not understand that reference,” Cas complained with increasing frustration.

“Whatever,” Dean segued, signaling the end of that topic for the moment.

“That’s why you can read Dean so well,” Sam concluded. “You can hear him.”

Cas cocked his head to the side in question, not sure if he was supposed to respond to the comment. Dean saw the motion but ignored it and closed his eyes. He was so tired and his panic attack earlier didn’t help, and he was so NOT going to think anymore about that right now. He wondered how they’d gotten so far off the subject then tried to recall what the subject was. He was still trying to sort it all out when his mind just stopped and he passed out.

Cas immediately noticed Dean’s even, relaxed breathing. He turned to look at Dean and cracked a slight smile then informed the others, “He’s asleep. Perhaps we can finish this conversation when he wakes up. In the meantime, he wanted to get a motel room.”

“He’s staying here,” John insisted firmly, unwilling to let Dean out of his sight so soon.

Cas arched an eyebrow then diplomatically allowed, “He will nap here for now but it is his decision when he wakes up.”

“Fair enough,” John lied easily, not willing to give anything but knowing now was not the time for this discussion.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 – Family

Dean’s eyes flew open on instinct and he swung a fist at the figure leaning over him, which tied in perfectly with the night terror he was having at the time. Distant shouting kept him disoriented while he attempted to figure out what the hell was really happening. His distraction was such that his fist was easily deflected down and away from its target.

“Dean!” Adam barked out irritably, even though his voice didn’t faze the shouting match contestants in the other room.

Dean blinked wearily then relaxed at the familiar surroundings and Adam leaned back into the chair someone had moved next to the couch Dean had crashed on. Dean slowly shifted so that he was now sitting upright on the couch with his back against the back of the couch. He rubbed a hand over his face and asked as he now recognized the shouting match voices in the other room. “They been at it long?”

Adam shrugged and responded wryly, “Started out in low voices about twenty minutes after you passed out. They got louder and you started to wake up so Bobby moved them into the other room which of course only allowed them to increase in volume.”

In the background, they heard Sam yelling, “Just admit that your selfish obsession means more to you than Dean. Hell, you summoned the thing while Dean was dying. It’s the same selfish obsession you’ve always put before us.”

“That’s bullshit! You’ve never understood, Sam,” John growled irately. “You’ve never even tried to understand because you’ve always been obsessed with how things affected you. And don’t you dare act like you care about him. You abandoned him for college. You didn’t care how it affected him. Hell, you never even called him the whole time you were gone.”

“How do you know that?” Sam demanded with sudden surprised.

“I didn’t, until now, but I’ve always suspected,” John admitted with disappointment. “You never cared enough about him, not like he did you, especially while he was taking care of you.”

“Oh, like you ever did,” Sam sneered. “And like I care what you think of me. Hell, Dean was your perfect little mindless soldier and most of the time you didn’t even give him the time of day. He was just your little obedient guard dog trained to keep watch over me. No wonder he was taken away. You trained him, oh, so well for them. Your perfect little soldier.”

“He did as he was told and kept you safe like he was supposed to. You should appreciate how obedient and perfect your brother was or you wouldn’t have lived through middle school. He fulfilled the job he was assigned to do so, yeah, you should really appreciate that ‘perfect little soldier’ he became. Making him into that allowed you to be the self-absorbed child that you are,” John yelled in mindless anger.

“It allowed you to bow out of hunts because of homework,” John added with a sneer. “That perfect soldier you’ve always sneered at allowed you to get your full ride to Stanford and become the ‘normal’ person that you always wanted. So you might want to think twice about throwing that ‘perfect soldier’ crap around so much because that’s the only thing that let you have the normal you craved so much. After all, a mindless soldier doesn’t have to worry about college, does he?”

“Don’t blame me because Dean was too stupid and lazy to graduate,” Sam snarled defensively. “He chose to drop out. Nobody made him. If anyone besides Dean is at fault, it was you because of all the moving around. And I do blame your perfect soldier for why I didn’t call during college. He would have just harassed me about coming back because of you. You’ve never allowed him an original thought and he was too stupid to try it for himself.”

“So this is what life was like before he left,” Adam surmised with sad ruefulness, tired of hearing it already.

Dean’s mind quickly snapped back to the present room he was in, completely unaware of all the winces and grimaces he had automatically made while the barbs being thrown out by his family reopened wounds deeply buried within him. God, these arguments and sentiments were so old, and ran so deep. He really didn’t need them on top of his new wounds.

“How did you stand it?” Adam questioned softly.

Dean shrugged then stared at him a moment before he answered honestly, and a bit hoarsely, “What other option was there?” He really didn’t want to continue this conversation so he segued with a confused frown, “Why were you leaning over me, anyway?”

Adam blinked at the quick change in conversation but went with it because he didn’t have an answer for the first question. “Oh, uh, Cas said that if you slept past the hour mark, we needed to cover you up with a blanket because you’d be cold? Which, by the way, is really weird, if you ask me.”

Dean growled low in his throat in anger before shouting to the ceiling, “Hey, here’s a call to mother hen Cass-tee-ell, since you can’t seem cut out the Mother Teresa spiel, how about you grab me a hamburger and chocolate shake? Freakin’ chatty Cathy. Also, I’m hungry so hurry it up, asshat.”

“Uh, Dean,” Adam started hesitantly.

Dean held up a hand to stop Adam as he added in slightly firmer tone, “And don’t forget my pie!”

After that, Dean gave Adam his full attention and cocked an eyebrow up questioningly. Neither one of them really noticed the sudden silence from the other room. Adam told him quickly, “Cas isn’t here right now. He said he needed to check on some things.”

Dean nodded slightly then switched his attention to watch his red-faced father and brother as they entered the room. John leaned against Bobby’s desk again while Sam leaned against a bookcase across the room. John questioned briskly, “How are you feeling, Dean?”

“Hungry,” Dean answered shortly.

Sam offered generously, “Like Adam said, Cas isn’t here so do you want me to go get you something?”

Dean shook his head once and wondered briefly, “So what’s the plan? Where’s Bobby?”

“Bobby’s finishing up with a customer,” John offered easily. “As far as the plan, well, . . .”

“We’re not real sure right now,” Adam finished quickly. “We have killed the creatures that killed our mothers so the vengeance thing has been accomplished.”

“Good,” Dean interrupted quickly. “Now Sammy can go back to school, Adam can go back to medical school and you, Dad, can retire with Uncle Bobby.”

“Like hell he will,” Bobby grumbled firmly as he stomped into the room, wiping his hands off on an old rag. “We’d kill each other before the day’s over.”

John smirked but countered easily, “Depends if there’s alcohol involved.”

“True,” Bobby conceded reluctantly. “Then we’d live through a couple of days. Maybe.”

“Awesome. Everyone’s set,” Dean commented vaguely.

“Yeah? What about you, Dean? I noticed that you didn’t mention yourself in all that,” Sam pointed out guardedly.

“Already told you what I was doing,” Dean reminded him vaguely.

“Yeah,” Adam interjected over Dean’s answer, arguing patiently, “and I never said I was going back, especially while you’re still fighting the ‘good fight’. I’m not him, Dean.”

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly but dismissed him abruptly, “I know that. Never said that. My fight has nothing to do with any of you, plus it’s a totally different playing field.”

“Which is why you need help,” John insisted with a ‘that’s final’ tone.

“I have help,” Dean insisted at the same time there was another low noise with a movement of air then Cas appeared in front of Dean. He dropped a paper bag of food onto Dean’s lap and complained slightly, “You could say please occasionally, you know.”

“Yeah, and you can keep you know what to yourself, like I have asked you to. Repeatedly,” Dean growled back irritably. “And did I just hear . . .”

Cas cocked his head to the side in question after he set Dean’s shake down on the table beside the couch. “Hear what?” he prodded Dean.

“Later,” Dean evaded while he stared at Cas meaningfully then patted the seat beside him and changed the subject. “What’s news?”

Cas stared for a moment then shrugged and plopped down on the couch in his earlier position next to Dean. Dean ripped open the bag and pulled out the cheeseburger and fries. He asked quickly, “Extra onions?”

Cas rolled his eyes slightly in exasperation before he corrected harshly, “No, Dean. Extra onions will come when you stop hurling up everything.” Dean glared at him but bit into his burger with relish anyway. He moaned in delight as his eyes rolled back in his head. Cas eyed him with disgusted amusement before he advised dryly, “It’s a burger, Dean. Not sex. Try to keep things, and sounds, in perspective.”

“I am,” Dean snapped irritably. “It’s called food sex, Cas. Look it up.”

“Oh, Dude, gross,” Sam exclaimed with disgust.

“How would you know what noises Dean makes . . .” John started to question when Cas quickly interrupted with the previously requested information.

“Bear and Raven are fighting again,” Cas intoned dryly.

Dean rolled his eyes while he continued to chow down on his hamburger. “What now?”

“Raven thinks Bear has a thing for Crow.”

Dean snorted in the process of taking a drink of his shake and almost spewed. “Seriously?” He coughed out slightly. Cas nodded slowly. “But Crow is a total les,” Dean exclaimed in surprise. “She only goes for chicks. If she’s after anyone, it would be Raven.”

“I am aware,” Cas acknowledged with a wry smile. “She did accuse Bear, however.”

“So where is Bear now? In a bar? Should we check bars in the area?” Dean worried.

“There is no need,” Cas dismissed then continued in a staged whisper that everyone clearly heard. “Bear is on mission.” Dean nodded slightly but before he could ask, Cas added with dramatic relish, “With Crow.”

Dean face palmed his forehead and recited wryly, “Of course he is. Probably just to piss Raven off.” Cas nodded in agreement. “What’s the mission?” Cas gave their audience a contemplative glance, causing Dean to question in concern, “Not THE mission? No way.”

Cas quickly turned his gaze back on Dean and agreed readily, “No. That one happened late last night.”

“What?!” Dean exclaimed with disbelief and tried to jump up but Cas placed a hand on his thigh to keep him down. “Why?”

“A window opened up and we had to take a chance. You were unavailable but safe so I took them in,” Cas explained quickly.

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean cursed.

“Do not start with me,” Cas warned harshly with a steely voice. “If you had not run off in the first place, I would not have had to make the call.”

Dean calmed down slightly then asked, “Damages?”

“Two dead, five wounded,” Cas recounted in a robot-like fashion.

Dean nodded slightly. “That’s better than I expected,” Dean admitted reluctantly. “So where are Bear and Crow headed?”

“Gordon,” Cas named vaguely.

Dean nodded and concluded grimly, “Caleb came through. Awesome. Knew we kept him alive for a reason. Besides his partying habits, that is.”

“Caleb’s alive?” John verified incredulously, not really daring to hope.

Dean looked over at his father in surprise before he remembered, “Oh, yeah. Funny story. Got a lead from a psychic about Meg’s plans to hit friends and family so I had a couple of semi-sane shifters switch places with a few of them. Pastor Jim and Caleb are in hiding until Azazel is killed.”

Dean glanced at Cas who nodded and informed them, “I have informed them of his death. They were .  . . relieved.”

“Which is how you knew where to find us in that cabin,” Sam surmised quickly. “I wondered how you knew where we were.”

Dean nodded briefly while keeping his eyes on Cas. He remembered the cabin and what happened in it while his father was possessed. He remembered what was said and didn’t want to get into any of that anytime soon.

“Dean,” John called but Dean shook his head slightly.

“Did you find anything useful at the base?” Dean questioned on the former topic but was interrupted by John’s phone going off.

John reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone while Cas informed Dean of the last mission. John frowned in confusion when he saw the voice mail come up on his phone. He hadn’t heard it ring and everyone who was really important to him was in this room so he had no idea . . . then he thought about his friends that he had thought died. So he called in to check the message.

“No new base information but a lot of participating corporations with some personnel files.”

“So now it’s a mole game,” Dean concluded uneasily. “We have to infiltrate, hack, research and be patient.” Cas nodded in agreement. Dean had finished his burger and let his head fall back against the couch with a heart-felt groan. “Great. That’s just great. All four are my least favorite activities, not to mention ones I suck at.”

“Good thing that you aren’t doing any of them then,” Cas commented wryly with an underlying warning.

“Cas,” Dean argued only to be shutdown harshly by Cas.

“No, Dean, and if you don’t behave, I will force you to stand down. You and I both know I can do it. Easily,” Cas warned uncompromisingly.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do then?” Dean exclaimed with frustration.

“Heal. Get better. Get well,” Cas snapped back irritably. “You are not allowed in the field until you are well this time.”

“And we’ll help keep you down if that’s what it takes,” Adam agreed forcibly.

Dean rolled his eyes then saw his father hang up his phone with a heavy sigh. Anxious to get everyone’s attention away from him and his health, he distracted quickly, “What’s up, Dad?”

John glanced at him then at Bobby before he explained, “Just a friend who had info on Azazel but it was an old voice mail.”

Bobby advised, “You need to call back and let them know. Check and make sure that they are alright.” John nodded and got up to step outside then make his phone call.

Dean asked Bobby, “You know what that’s about?”

Bobby shook his head before asking, “How are you feeling?”

Dean thought for a moment and took another drink of his shake before answering, “Better. Food’s settling alright for a change.” He frowned then turned to Cas and demanded, “Where’s my pie?”

“In the kitchen,” Cas bargained with slight exasperation. “You can have it if we don’t see your food again within the next thirty minutes.” Dean grumbled under his breath, even though he knew that it was probably a good plan.

“You mentioned Gordon before,” Bobby reminded them. “Did you mean Gordon Walker?” Dean glanced at Cas but gave a nod anyway. “What is the mission?”

Dean eyed Bobby for a long moment then explained slowly, “The mission is . . . to find Gordon.”

“Why?” Bobby pried harshly then added in the same tone, “Don’t lie to me, boy. You never could, you know.” John walked into the room to see what was going on.

Dean glanced at his father and John saw the relief in his eyes. He knew what Dean was thinking so he ordered firmly, “No go, Dean. Answer the question.”

Dean glared at his two fathers tag-teaming him but Cas took over easily. “We are going to question him. Then kill him.” Dean’s eyes flash to Cas with an unreadable expression before looking down and sipping more of his shake.

“Why?” John wondered uncertainly.

Dean bit his top lip briefly before he answered tightly, “He turned in Bear, Crow and some others. Apparently, hunters were paid to turn subjects over to the Pit. Gordon never turned over a vamp. He killed them all himself but he did turn the others over after he found out that they would eventually be killed after long term torture and experimentation.”

“You?” John clarified determinedly.

Dean shook his head. “Told you already. Never knew who and it wasn’t recorded in my file so I still don’t know who to get for that lovely experience.”

“Your file?” Bobby verified uneasily.

“Where did you think those DOA pics came from?” Dean snarked uncomfortably. “Chuck has most of it for medical purposes. The rest I burned.”

“You mugged me,” Bobby snarled with irate surprise.

Dean winced but offered uneasily, “Hey, I just took the pics and told them to go easy on you. It’s not like we knocked you out or something. Just some chloroform.” Bobby growled low in his throat.

Dean cleared his throat and continued quickly, “Since we found out about the hunters, Caleb’s been trying to track them down. Some were named in the file. Others, by word of mouth. We still don’t know who grabbed us, though.”

“Well,” John started uneasily. “I told Ellen, my friend, about Azazel and she wanted to warn me that there are hunters out looking for both of you. Apparently, it’s spreading through the grapevine that you two are worth a lot of reward money. I need to go check it out.”

“I’m coming with you,” Adam told him firmly.

“No,” John argued. “I’m known there. I can handle it and I don’t need to worry about you. If you want something to do, stay here and take care of your brother.”

“I don’t need . . .” Dean tried to argue but was quickly out voiced.

“Dean has Cas and Bobby to take care of him,” Sam argued hotly. “We need to get rid of the people coming after him.”

“Sam’s right, Dad,”’ Adam threw in easily. “Besides Sam and I aren’t known so we can spy easier than you.”

“I don’t want you two in danger,” John argued hotly.

With the standard Winchester argument brewing, Dean nudged Cas and nodded toward the kitchen as he grabbed Cas’s hand. He hoped that Cas could teleport him too. Cas quickly caught on and nodded once before sending both himself and Dean into the kitchen. Dean fell back against the doorway leading to the outside until his dizziness passed while Cas stood about two feet in front of him.

“Well, that was fun. Not,” Dean snarked shakily. When Dean leaned back in a relaxed stance, Cas relaxed slightly as well. Dean sighed at the noise of the argument in the next room. He asked intently, “Do you know where Gordon is?” Cas nodded once. “Okay, good. We need to head over there and help them investigate this.”

Cas raised one eyebrow slightly and questioned with underlying menace, “What part of ‘you need to stay here and rest up’ do you not understand?”

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean cursed, totally without patience. “You know me. When have I ever done that?”

“You’ve never had the chance,” Cas argued brusquely. “Now you do. I will go help, if you wish, but you will stay here.”

“Yeah, right, like that will work,” Dean dismissed sarcastically. “You know I don’t work that way anymore. And I cannot stay here. Not after . . . damn it, you know why.”

“I don’t want to leave you in a motel but I will, if. . .” Cas trailed off uncertainly.

Dean cursed again then demanded irrationally in a low voice, “Why are you doing this to me? You know already. Don’t make me say it.”

Cas frowned slightly. “I cannot be in two places at once, Dean. I cannot help with Gordon and take care of you.”

“Nobody needs to take care of me, damn it!” Dean snarled with high affront.

“Obviously, because you are doing such a good job on your own!” Cas exclaimed with impatient sarcasm.

Dean glared and snapped angrily, “Just shut up and take me to a motel then. But you had better pop back as soon as it’s night. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Cas agreed tightly and moved to touch Dean when someone cleared their throat behind him. Cas turned and surveyed Bobby standing behind them. He quickly noticed that the others were still arguing.

“Bobby?” Dean questioned uncomfortably, wondering just how much his second father had heard.

“You ain’t going anywhere, son,” Bobby argued firmly.

“Bobby,” Dean started, only to be shut down quickly.

“Look, you idjit, you are still my family and there ain’t nothing that’s going to change that. I don’t care what you are now. You are still Dean to me and I ain’t going to let you be left in a motel somewhere all alone in your current physical condition.” Dean tried to argue again but Bobby glared him into submission.

“Now, if you would pull your head out of your ass and figure out that you aren’t alone anymore, you will find a simple solution here. John doesn’t want your brothers to go with him and you want someone to interrogate Gordon so send your brothers to do that. That way you only have Cas and me to hover over you and cuss at while we get you well,” Bobby suggested as they both heard the door slam.

“Dean?” They heard Sam call.

“In here,” Dean called back. Sam stormed into the kitchen, still ticked off after arguing with John. Adam followed with a slight smirk over Sam’s temper tantrum.

“What’s going on in here? Are you trying to leave?” Sam snapped, searching for another target to unleash his anger on.

Dean surveyed Sam’s sulk with a cross between amusement and irritation. He thought over what Bobby had suggested and wisely offered, “Actually I wanted to go help with the hunt for Gordon but Bobby thought you two might want to do it.”

Sam perked up slightly at that but wondered with suspicion, “And what would you be doing while we did this?”

Dean glanced between his two jailors, Cas and Bobby, before he answered with resentful sarcasm, “Living under house arrest apparently.”

Both Sam and Adam perked up after that, glad for something to do for their brother. They were given all the information. They packed up and borrowed one of Bobby’s working junk cars. They were on the road before dusk. The house was much quieter after everyone had left.

Dean glanced at Bobby uncertainly then back at Cas, wondering what to do. Cas caught his glance and wondered, “Are you still hungry?”

Dean thought for a moment then nodded, “Yeah, I am. A little.”

“Sandwiches?” Bobby checked. Both Cas and Dean nodded so Bobby left to go make them.

As soon as Bobby was in the kitchen, Dean hissed, “We have to leave, Cas.”

“Why?”

“You know why, damn it,” Dean snapped. Cas only cocked his head in confusion. “Look, we are on the outside now and on the outside, men don’t sleep with other men after the age of twelve. Okay?”

“Dean, if you do not want me to sleep with you, all you have to do is tell me,” Cas explained frankly, attempting to hide the affront he felt.

“No, damn it. That’s not it. You know that’s not it,” Dean argued in frustration.

“Dean,” Cas called calmly. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Dean answered dismissively, wondering why this was becoming so difficult for him. He knew he was acting irrationally but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His old self and new self were in conflict with each other and his emotions were all over the place.

Cas shook his head and stared directly into Dean’s eyes, making Dean stare back, unable to turn away. Cas reiterated slowly, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Dean verified honestly. “With my life.”

Cas smiled slightly and ordered, “Then don’t worry. I will take care of it. Yes?” Dean gave a very small smile and nodded.

“Hate to break up your little caring and sharing moment, ladies,” Bobby interrupted sarcastically, “but come and get it. Time to eat.” He turned and stomped back into the kitchen without waiting for them. They followed close behind and then they all sat down and ate quietly.

They quickly finished the sandwiches then attacked the chocolate pie, much to Dean’s delight. The noises that came out of him caused both Bobby and Cas to quickly become very uncomfortable. Finally, they all sat back and relaxed for a moment as they finished their drinks.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said with a great deal of warmth and gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Bobby answered easily then gruffly warned, “But you try to poof out with your friend and I will hunt you down. Now, tell me why you’re suddenly so uncomfortable about staying here.” Dean lowered his eyes and shifted uncomfortably, not willing to talk about this with Bobby.

Luckily, Cas had no such reservation as he explained briskly, “Since the Pit, Dean has-“ 

“Cas,” Dean warned harshly but Cass continued without pause.

“Had several violent nightmares and is concerned . . .”

Bobby held up a hand and interrupted firmly, “No need to give me details. It won’t be the first, or last, time I’ve been woken up because of his nightmares, although it was been over a decade since the last time.” 

He stared directly at Dean and ordered, “Look at me, Dean.” He waited until Dean looked directly into his eyes before he continued, “Now, you listen, boy, and listen good. Whatever you two have between you is not anyone’s business but your own. I will tell you this, though, just because I think it might help. Your daddy talked a lot about how some of the POWs would end up roomed up together for a while after they got back to the states because that’s what helped them through the memories.” Dean flinched slightly, seeing the correlation.

Bobby hurried to change the subject, knowing that Dean was near the limit. “Now, let me show you something that you two just might be interested in.” Bobby stood up and led the other two downstairs into his basement then to the right where he opened a large heavy, metal door. Dean glanced back at Cas, curious to see what he thought of all this but, as usual, his friend showed no expression.

Bobby slowly opened it and walked into his homemade panic room. Dean looked around the room and whistled softly, “Bobby, you built a panic room?” Dean was very clearly impressed.

Bobby shrugged and answered nonchalantly, “I had a weekend off.” Then he continued, “It’s available if you two want to crash down here but I understand if you don’t. The guest room upstairs is still available.” Considering Dean had escaped being locked up for the past two years, Bobby wasn’t sure that he’d agree to this. In fact, he was surprised that Dean and Cas had willingly entered this room without balking at all.

Dean studied the room in a new light while Cas immediately checked out the door and offered helpfully, “The door only opens and closes from the inside.”

Dean glanced over and commented analytically, “Only one cot, though.”

Cas asked easily, reading a lot in that comment, “Bobby, do you mind if we rearrange things in here a bit?”

“Knock yourselves out,” Bobby answered vaguely then turned to Dean as Cas blinked out of the room. “I don’t hear things from this room as well as in the guestroom, especially with the door closed.”

“So you only planned to lock yourself in?” Dean wondered curiously.

“Lock can be switched but not easily,” Bobby informed him.

Cas popped back into the room with a king size bed that took up most of the floor. Bobby was very glad that he hadn’t walked very far into the room. He glanced at Dean and saw a slight smirk on his face. Bobby shook his head and left stating, “I’ll be in the study if either of you need anything. Get some rest, Dean.”

As soon as Bobby cleared the door, it quickly shut. Bobby assumed that Cas had mojo’d it somehow. He wondered how Dean felt so comfortably around such a creature. He headed upstairs to research what he could on the subject. He was probably better off not knowing.

Chapter Text

Dean slowly rolled over and lazily stretched, slowly rousing from the first good night’s sleep he’d had in a while. He felt good, really good, for the first time in a very long time. He cracked his eyes open and stared at the fan slowly spinning above him. He sighed heavily at the knowledge that he really needed to wake up. He sat up easily and took his time getting dressed in some not so clean clothes then headed upstairs to take a shower.

“Well, hurray. It lives,” Bobby mocked sarcastically from his study when Dean walked past the doorway. Dean paused and glanced in. Bobby continued to gripe, “It’s about damn time, boy. At least, you finally look better than death.”

Dean frowned slightly. “How long?”

“About a day and a half. Thirty-six hours or so,” Bobby answered tightly.

“Really?” Dean demanded in disbelief. Bobby nodded so Dean sighed heavily, “Well, I guess I needed it, huh?”

Bobby eyed him warily, remembering being shut out of his own panic room last night. He cautioned uneasily, “I’m gonna need a little more clarification before answering that one.”

Dean rolled his eyes slightly before moving on toward the stairs and calling out over his shoulder, “I’m taking a shower.”

“Just don’t fall down the damn stairs, you idgit.”

“Yeah, love you, too, Bobby,” Dean snarked back easily.

“I mean it, boy. You pass out on me or I’ll kick your ass,” Bobby warned easily.

Dean took a quick shower, feeling really relaxed for the first time in like, forever. He dressed and headed down to Bobby who was now making breakfast in the kitchen. Bobby called out as soon as he entered the kitchen, “Eggs and bacon?”

“Oh, God, yes,” Dean exclaimed hungrily. “I’m starving.”

“Fix the toast,” Bobby ordered and Dean readily obeyed.

“So where’s Cas?” Dean wondered idly while he cooked.

“He went to check on Sam and Adam. Adam called all panicked when Sam up and disappeared, so Cas said he’d take care of it,” Bobby informed him.

“How long ago?”

“A couple of hours. He’s probably checking in with your group as well. John called and he’s on his way back. He caught a hunt from Ellen but nothing big. Hunt’s done without injuries,” Bobby continued to report.

“I bet he was really happy that no one was home,” Dean commented wryly.

“He was very glad that you were still here,” Bobby told him pointedly. “Hopefully Cas will have your brothers home soon.”

“Probably,” Dean agreed easily.

“Well, let’s eat,” Bobby suggested. They sat down and ate quietly. Actually Dean ate very quickly. “You don’t have to inhale it, you know. It ain’t running away.”

“Sorry,” Dean offered with his mouth very full of food. “Just really hungry.”

“So I gathered,” Bobby commented dryly.

A rustle of feathers sounded behind him but Dean didn’t turn around. He swallowed quickly and asked over his shoulder, “Are Sam and Adam okay?”

“We’re fine,” Sam offered irritably.

Dean turned around and wondered, “What happened?”

“Vamps kidnapped Sam,” Adam reported dryly.

“It was Lenora’s group,” Cas volunteered readily.

“But they aren’t a danger,” Dean protested with surprise. “They only drink cow.”

“Gordon didn’t care,” Sam snapped irately.

“Where is ol’ Gordo?” Dean wondered. “I really want to meet the man, at this point.”

Cas glared and reported briefly, “Zachariah.”

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed derisively, “Of course. Really hate that guy.”

“Agreed,” Cas conceded readily. The others sat down at the table with them. Cas inquired, “How are you feeling?”

“Just woke up about an hour ago,” Dean related easily. “Ate and everything’s settling well so go team.” Cas smirked with amusement. “Hopefully tomorrow I can work on my baby some, you know, if my jailors agree to it.”

“Possibly,” Cas allowed paternally. “If you continue to behave yourself.”

Dean glared slightly but nodded in acknowledgement before asking, “So where’s my pie?”

After they finished over the delicious chocolate cream pie, Cas and Dean bullied Adam and Sam into taking the guest room upstairs since the younger brothers had just finished a hunt. For Dean, it was bad enough that Bobby knew that Cas stayed with him during the night to keep the memories away. There was no way he wanted his brothers to know about more of his inadequacies.

+++++++++++++++++++

The next day, Dean was working under the Impala. The weather was mild, sunny with a nice breeze blowing gently. He heard someone walk up. He saw the boots before he caught the scent but he already knew who it was. He called out casually in greeting, “How was the hunt, Dad? You okay?”

“Successful, and I’m fine,” John answered with slight amusement. “How are you?”

“I’m outside on a nice day working on my baby with all of my family hanging out in the same area,” Dean recited with pleasure. “I’m awesome.” Dean finished what he was doing before pushing out from under the car. John held out a hand to help him up which Dean readily took after he wiped his hand off on his shirt.

With the extra help, Dean was upright before he knew it. Apparently, his body agreed with his mind that it all happened way too quickly as everything started spinning and fading. He heard his father exclaim in surprise when his knees buckled. John caught him before he could hit the ground but everything went black anyway.

“Damn it, Dean,” John cursed violently while he checked his son’s pulse. He let out a relieved breath when he found it was there and beating strong, even if it was little fast. He was about to call for help, or Cas, when Dean’s eyes fluttered open.

Dean slowly blinked opened his eyes to view his father’s worried face. Dean blinked again then asked hoarsely, “What happened?”

“You passed out,” John grumbled with irritated concern. “Are you even supposed to be out here? Much less working?”

“Yeah,” Dean countered easily. “I’ve been a good boy. You know, eating and everything. I’ve only been working an hour or so. Just got up too quickly. That’s all.”

“That’s happened before?” John prodded anxiously.

Dean shook his head slightly before he allowed, “I get dizzy sometimes but nothing like that.” Dean sighed heavily then wondered with dread, “What are the chances of you not telling Cas about this?”

“Depends,” John allowed deviously. “What are the chances that you’ll tell me about Cas and your relationship with him?”

Dean eyed his father warily and evaded sardonically, “I’ll take my chances with Cas.”

“Dean,” John started.

Dean shook his head and stalled desperately, “I really don’t want to do this. Isn’t it lunch time now? Man, am I hungry?”

“Dean, we have to talk,” John warned firmly and sat down opposite his son, leaning against a hulled out car.

“Dad,” Dean whined slightly, but in a very manly way, of course. He knew he couldn’t get away from this physically so talking his way out of it was his only choice because he so wasn’t in the mood for this right now.

“Dean, just shut up and listen,” John ordered harshly. Dean sighed heavily and leaned his head back but kept his eyes on his father as ordered. John studied him for a long moment, searching for his words, while he drank in the sight and knowledge that his son was still with him.

Finally he bit the bullet and admitted softly, “I remember, Dean.” Dean frowned at him in confusion. John winced slightly when he saw it, knowing he’d have to actually mention things he never wanted to give voice to.

John sighed heavily and slowly elaborated, “I remember being possessed. I remember what I did, and what I said.” He paused briefly, watching his eldest mentally retreat from his admission, but he had to continue. He couldn’t leave this unsaid anymore, especially knowing what Dean really thought based on what John remembered of his possession. “But, even worse than that, I remember what Azazel showed me, inside my own mind. I remember what he shared with me, the mental images he showed me . . . of you, and his time with you, in the Pit.”

Dean flinched strongly and ducked his head down but not before John saw all color drain from his face. He couldn’t stop now that the door was open but he also knew Dean couldn’t take a lot, especially after everything else. He rushed forward anxiously, “I also know about you and Cas. About how you two were cellmates and how helped each other. You two really pissed off a lot of those assholes with the way you always helped each other stay so strong. And you were, son. You were strong, so very strong.”

Dean didn’t raise his head as he fought against the nausea these memories always brought, on top of the knowledge that his father now knew about them. He never wanted anyone to know about what happened to him. Cas knew, of course, because Cas had lived it, too. But his family was never to know all that he went through.

He wasn’t even aware that John moved close to him until he felt his father hug him, bringing Dean’s head to his shoulder. He tried to fight the comfort, knowing that he’d lose it if he allowed himself to feel that. After all, he already felt hot tears gathering in his eyes that he fought to hold back but they completely ignored him and fell anyway.

John felt his son’s tears and tightened his hold slightly. He told Dean softly, “I would have done anything to keep all that pain from you, son. Anything. If I could have switched places with you, I would’ve in a heartbeat. You mean so much to me. You have no idea. You will never know how much until you have one of your own.”

“When you have your own, you’ll know. You’ll know that I don’t like, or love, Sam, or even Adam more than you, Dean. I never have.” He paused then apologized hoarsely, “Dean, I’m so, so sorry.”

“For what?” Dean rasped into his shoulder.

“I was always too tough on you. I know that. I made you grow up too fast but you always rose to every challenge I gave you. You always made me so proud. I never had to worry about this family because I always knew you would hold us together, no matter how stupid or stubborn we were.”

“You always told us everything was alright, even when we knew it wasn’t, and we’d believe it because you made us believe it. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You even took care of Adam. You did that. And you didn’t complain, not once. It killed me so much to think that you were dead, to think that’d I never see you again, never get to tell you all this.”

His eldest boy shuddered against him as he felt more tears fall and knew that Dean was definitely crying softly on his shoulder now. John held his son even tighter and kissed his head gently. Then he admitted solemnly, “I love you, Dean, and I am so proud of you. Nothing you can do will change that.”

“Dad,” Dean protested weakly with a totally wrecked voice.

“No, Dean, don’t,” John interrupted firmly. “I don’t care what happened to you in the Pit. I don’t care what you’ve become. You are still my son. I’m not going to desert you. I’m not going to kill you, ever. I’d kill myself first.” Dean’s sobs became slightly more vocal but were still mostly quiet.

“We will figure this out, son,” John vowed encouragingly. “I promise.” John knew he did the right thing when he felt his son’s arms slowly encircled him and hold on to him tightly.

They stayed that way for a long time while John waited patiently for his son to calm down, thankful that he had this chance to set things right. He had missed holding Dean like this. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually held his eldest boy, at all. Mentally, he reluctantly acknowledged that it was probably before his Mary died. He mused on this for awhile before he noticed that Dean had quieted down. He questioned softly, “Dean?”

When he got no response, he gently pushed Dean’s head back and saw that Dean had fallen asleep. He knew that he couldn’t carry his full grown son inside the house, in spite of all the weight that Dean had lost. With a resigned sigh, he called out softly, like he’d seen Dean do, “Cas. I could really use your help.”

Moments later, John heard a noise in front of him then saw Cas appear. Cas asked quietly as he surveyed the scene, “What happened?”

“We had a moment,” John answered vaguely. “He fell asleep.”

Cas cocked his head to the side for a moment before he surmised evenly, “You finally told him.” John looked at him in surprise so Cas elaborated clearly, “You finally admitted to remembering your possession. You should get a tattoo for that, by the way. Dean and I have.”

“I’ll think about it,” John replied vaguely. “Think you can get him inside without waking him up.”

“Of course,” Cas responded confidently. He leaned forward and touched Dean’s shoulder then vanished from sight. John felt his son’s weight disappear at the same time.

John knew what had happened and called out gratefully, “Thanks, Cas.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dean jerked awake, bolting upright and throwing a punch at the nearest image which happened to be Cas this time. Cas easily caught the punch and forced both of Dean’s arms down to the bed. He held them there as he leaned in and stated calmly, “Relax, Dean. You are safe.”

Dean huffed out a weak, raspy laugh. Apparently his throat was still sore from his earlier crying session with his dad. Oh, God, he had actually bawled like a baby in front of his father. In front of? Hell, he’d cried all over his father. Dean flushed with embarrassment and almost felt like crying again. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never cried like that before so why was he now?

“Are you okay, Dean?” Cas asked with concern.

“Yeah,” Dean rasped out automatically then cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he sighed wearily and asked, “So what’s going on?”

“It is dinner time and you need to eat since you missed lunch and threw up breakfast, again,” Cas reported dryly.

“What? Are you kidding me? Dinner time already?” Dean exclaimed in amazement. “What the hell is up with me sleeping all the time? Wait, wait. You knew I threw up again and let me work anyway?”

“Letting you work was the easiest way to keep you amused. I know what you are like when you are bored, Dean. Bobby and I had already cleared out the heavy stuff so I didn’t see any danger,” Cas replied easily. “Was that wrong?”

“No, no, I’m just a little amazed that you allowed it.”

“It seemed the simplest solution. Now, shall we go eat?” Cas inquired without emotion.

Dean ran his hand through his hair and guessed, “Sure. I guess.” He sniffed distractedly and wondered, “Did you bath me or something? I should smell like grease but don’t.”

Cas cocked his head to the side and surveyed Dean a moment then related evenly, “You did smell when I brought you here. I did wish that you were clean . . . are you saying that you are?” Cas leaned forward and sniffed Dean’s neck before he could respond. Cas growled low in his throat and Dean had his answer.

“Back off, tiger,” Dean warned cautiously. “We have to go eat, remember? And I am definitely not on the dinner menu.” Cas leaned back and moved back from the bed.

Dean got up slowly, making sure he didn’t repeat blacking out again. He frowned at Cas slightly as he moved to the panic room door that Cas opened for him. He stepped out of the room, ignoring Cas’s questioning expression.

As Dean passed by, ignoring him, Cas insisted verbally, “What is wrong, Dean? And before you deny it like you always do, don’t. I know something is wrong.”

Dean climbed the stairs with a heavily sigh but answered, knowing that Cas wouldn’t let it go, “It’s just, I don’t know, funny, I guess. It seems like you keep getting more powers while I keep getting, well, you know.”

As they talked, they came out of the basement doorway and walked down the short hall toward the kitchen. All of the others had already sat down around the table. They had already started eating and were talking about their hunts. The two closest seats had been left empty for them.

“What are you saying?” Cas wondered curiously.

Dean pulled out his seat and sat down while Cas did the same, still watching Dean. Dean shrugged and elaborated in a low voice, “I don’t know. It’s just . . . look at the sleep thing, for instance. I know you haven’t slept in, what, two days and even then it was only for like an hour where as I . . . It all just seems off.”

“What are you talking about, Dean?” John asked curiously, entering the conversation.

“Nothing,” Dean evaded distantly after he glanced at his dad, not really wanting to explain the extent of his medical condition. He reached from some mashed potatoes and started filling up both plates, his and Cas. He knew that Cas hadn’t been eating very much either lately.

Cas apparently didn’t get the hint because he continued the conversation after a thoughtful moment, “Zachariah.”

Dean froze instantly and shot his eyes over at Cas. He waited for more but when nothing else came out of Cas’s mouth he had to demand harshly, “What about him?"

Cas refocused on Dean and explained meaningfully, “He’s the one who ordered me moved. He went, ‘ballistic’, after he found out that we were cell mates. For some reason, he didn’t want us to be anywhere near each other.”

Dean frowned and surmised with disbelief, “So you think he . . . they . . . like a virus . . . or . . . no, man, no. No way . . . that’s not possible. This isn’t Dark Angel, you know.”

“Dean,” Cas started patiently. “How many times did they do ‘impossible’ things to us?”

“No, damn it. Just no,” Dean maintained adamantly as he slammed his hand down on the table, effectively silencing everyone. Dean leaned forward and bit out slowly, “There is no way. We are not there anymore. We are here, in reality. This, here and now, is real, not there. It is not possible here.” He paused, trying to figure out how to explain what he was thinking. Then he realized he didn’t want to have this conversation in front of witnesses.

He shook it off and redirected slightly, “What about the blood work that Chuck was supposed to have ready days ago?”

Cas frowned slightly before he reported, “Zach snatched it somehow but I found it and destroyed it before he could do anything with it.”

“What was he doing with it?”

“I’m not sure but I didn’t want any type of blood spell placed on us,” Cas explained tersely. “We both know how horrible those can be.”

“Good thinking,” Dean praised while the others grunted in agreement. “We really need to get your memories back because I swear there has to be a reason he’s so out for you.”

“He doesn’t like you either and you swore that you two have never met before,” Cas pointed out logically. “So why do you think my case is any different than yours?”

“Because Zach didn’t go apeshit when I was tortured or played with by others,” Dean explained tightly. “Zach was the only one who was allowed to touch you. Trust me, whatever is between you two, it is very personal for him and we need to find a way to kill the SOB.”

“Agreed,” Cas stated with resignation. “But first we have to find out what he is because he is not any creature that I know of. He is immune to silver, holy water, salt, exorcism, devil’s traps, and just about everything else we have tried to kill him with.”

“Are you sure that he knows, Dean?” Bobby questioned intently. “Because if it’s just an amnesia thing, I know a psychic who might be able to help with that.”

Dean looked questioningly at Cas who frowned heavily while he shrugged. The mixed signals caused the others to wonder what Cas was actually indicating but Dean nodded in understanding and explained to the others, “We’ll think about it.”

Dean sighed heavily over the fact that the others had join in on their conversation. Uncomfortable over the attention and not wanting to discuss this anymore, Dean easily redirected, “Sammy, you checked back into Stanford yet?”

Sam glared at him slightly and demanded irritably, “Who the hell said that I was going back to Stanford right now?”

“Well, of course, you’re not going right now,” Dean evaded easily. “You have to register, check into your full ride again, and all that crap, right?”

Sam frowned heavily and admitted honestly, “I seriously doubt I qualify for that full ride anymore and I never checked back on that interview that I had before Jess . . .”

“Sounds like you have a full day tomorrow then,” Dean interrupted quickly. He turned on Adam then and continued questioning, “What about you, Adam? You checked into your medical school stuff yet?”

Adam glared at him slightly while Bobby and John looked on with bemusement at Dean’s mother hen routine. It was hilarious to them that the main person who absolutely refused to let anyone mother hen him, insistently had to mother hen everyone else around him. Of course, all of them knew that Dean was the real caregiver of the family. Dean was the one who held them all together and took care of them all.

Cas calmly ate and nudged Dean into doing the same. Sam, on the other hand, growled irately, “What the hell, Dean?” Dean shot wide, innocent eyes to his younger brother while said brother laid into him. “To start off with, it’s been almost a year since I interviewed so I seriously doubt they will still want me even if they did to begin with. . . “

“Nonsense,” Dean dismissed brusquely while he continued to eat. “You are awesomely smart, Sammy. You’ll be back there with a full ride before you know it. If you need some starting money, I have some set up for you. I’ll have to check how much but I know I can swing at least a semester there.”

“Dean, one semester costs close to ten thousand dollars,” Sam pointed out bluntly.

Dean winced slightly but maintained adamantly, “I can swing it.”

“Dean,” John started but Dean glared harshly at him.

“Sammy’s going back, Dad,” Dean insisted. “It’s his dream. I’m back in the game so you don’t need him. He knows now that he has to keep his guard up this time but he’s going back.”

“What about you, Dean?” Sam questioned harshly.

“What about me?” Dean wondered vaguely. “You know that I was never into the whole school/college thing. Well, maybe the sororities, keggers, panty raids . . .” Dean’s eyes became dreamy and everyone could easily tell exactly what Dean was imagining.

“Dean,” Cas interrupted abruptly with cautioning undertone.

Dean’s attention snapped back to the present conversation which he finished off quickly, stating with conviction, “I’m going to keep doing what I always do. Besides, you don’t want to hunt. You never did. But I do.”

“You are not,” Cas countered bluntly as he continued to eat. “Not until you are completely healed.”

Dean glared at Cas briefly before he huffed brusquely, “That’s completely relative, you know.”

He turned back to Sam and dared with a malicious smile, “Tell me that you really want to hunt now. Then ask Dad what he just finished hunting.” Adam snickered in the background. They both knew about Sam’s clown phobia.

Sam glared at his two brothers and snapped out, “Yeah, I know, killer clowns but that’s not the point.”

“If not that, then what?” Dean demanded hotly.

Sam sighed and started, “Dean. . . “

“Aw, hell, no,” Dean growled irately. “Don’t you dare say that you have to stay because of me or I will have Cas zap me out of here so fast that you won’t know what hit you and none of you will ever see me again. I am fine! I don’t need anyone looking after me. I’ve never needed it. Never wanted it. Now go on and live your damn normal, safe life.”

That outburst effectively silenced the table, except for the soft, careful chewing of food by Cas and Bobby. Dean was slightly surprised that his own food didn’t try to fight back. He’d eaten half of what was on his plate so there was definitely something that could come up. Maybe he’d subdued it with that outburst as well. He wasn’t sure but he did know for certain that he couldn’t another bite right now.

Since he was done, he put his plate in the sink then headed to the couch in Bobby’s study, oblivious to everyone else. His shadow, Cas, followed him, of course, and sat down beside him. Dean leaned back then eyed his shadow before ordering shortly, “Lean back and relax already, Cas.”

Cas did as he was directed while he commented softly, “You need more sleep, Dean.” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation, but Cas continued, “You aren’t yourself.” Dean scoffed mirthlessly. “You know you aren’t? You knew this wouldn’t be easy but wanted it anyway.”

“I know,” Dean admitted dismissively. “I know. It’s just . . .”

“I know,” Cas conceded then frowned intently.

Dean noticed the sudden change in Cas’s demeanor and questioned, “What?”

“I am unsure,” Cas admitted uneasily as he got up to stare out of the window behind the couch. Dean frowned as he watched his friend. He knew Cas would explain whatever was bothering him when he figured it out because they were so deep in this together that each other was all they had anymore.

Chapter Text

The other men slowly filed into Bobby’s study after they cleaned up the supper dishes. When everyone was in there, John commanded in his drill sergeant, no-argument voice, “Alright. Enough arguing. We all need to talk. Now.”

Dean sighed heavily as everyone found seats. Adam sat down by Dean on the opposite side of the couch while Sam leaned against a sidebar across the room with his arms crossed over his chest. Bobby sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair to wait. John leaned against the front of his desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

“First of all, Dean,” John started. “Sam can do what he wants to do. I’m not going to force him to hunt and you aren’t going to force him to go back to college. Same with Adam.”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted urgently.

“What?” Dean responded immediately, turning to face Cas behind him and ignoring everyone else.

“I sense him. He’s getting close,” Cas hissed. “I have to leave. I have to draw him away.”

“Okay,” Dean replied reluctantly. “But be careful. Watch yourself.” Cas nodded and disappeared. Dean yelled into the empty space left behind, “If you’re not back in an hour, I’m hunting your feathery ass down, Cas.”

There was no response in the brief silence that followed but then Dean didn’t really expect one. He exhaled heavily and ran a hand over his face then leaned his head back on the couch. He seriously wondered if he would live long enough to see the end to all this and maybe be able to return to his old life.

“Dean,” John started uneasily.

“No, Dad, not now,” Dean mumbled with a slight growl. “Now is so not the time.”

“Too bad,” John snapped irritably, firmly back into his drill sergeant persona. “Someone is after you and we aren’t even sure what your new friend is.” Dean glared menacingly in response to the slight against his friend.

Bobby interjected clinically, uneasily entering the fray, “No were-creature that I know of can disappear at the drop at the hat or teleport like he does. And, did you just say that he has feathers?”

Dean mentally slapped himself for his slip. He didn’t know why he didn’t want them to know about that but he didn’t. Still, they did have a point. If he could at least figure out what Cass was, maybe he could figure out Cass’s history.

“Dean,” John warned impatiently.

Dean huffed angrily, “Look, it’s entirely possible that none of that is relevant or that all of it is. There’s no way to tell. The Pit changed things. Look at me. I became a werecat. Now it’s gone, I think. For a while, I had all kinds of monster things going on inside me. Now I have no idea what is going on inside my own body. So, what Cass has or doesn’t have could be clues or not? There’s no way to tell. Understand?”

“So what, symptoms, do you have now?” Sam wondered with curious unease.

“What do you mean? Healthwise or creature wise?” Dean clarified in confusion.

“Both,” John snapped irritably.

Dean cast a glare at him then snapped back, “I don’t really know anymore. I mean, you saw the silver reaction so I know I still have something and Cass is my alpha which he loves lording over me sometimes. But I can’t turn cat anymore.”

“Where did the wolf come from?” Sam questioned insistently. “It doesn’t seem to were.”

Adam threw a quick glance at Dean who studiously ignored him. Dean knew what the glance was about but didn’t want to give it away. He was trying to come up with something besides the real story then he quickly realized that he didn’t want to hide it anymore. There really wasn’t a reason to, either. He was already something else so what was the point in hiding it anymore? It was a good thing that he had decided because John had noticed the exchange, not to mention the way Dean hesitated.

“Out with it, Dean,” John demanded with a twinge of anger. Between Adam’s glance and the memory that Adam already knew about the silver reaction yesterday, he realized that there was a lot more going on with his sons than he’d originally known. He vaguely wondered what else they had hidden from him. Of course, he hid a lot of things as well but he was the father so he was allowed, he reasoned logically. “Or would you rather Adam told us this, too?” Adam winced subconsciously.

Dean cast a reluctant glance at Adam but answered hesitantly, “The wolf is a ‘cursed blessing’, if you will. Or, at least, it used to be. Now, I’m not sure what it is.”

“What the hell does that mean?” John growled with frustration.

Dean exhaled a heavy breath and started uneasily, “Remember about a month after the Fort Douglas striga? You caught a hunt involving some witches. Left us in that no-tell motel one town over. You said that it would only be a week but it was more, much more.” John frowned in remembrance but nodded.

Dean paused a moment, collecting his thoughts because some things from that time were never going to be told. No! Things that never happened, he mentally corrected himself as he started slowly, “We’d been there two weeks and I knew some of the people in the area. You know, the whole ‘know your surroundings’ spiel and all that. Anyway, I was headed back to our room with groceries and saw a woman being attacked in an alley by two really large guys. I know I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help calling out. Anyway, long story short, I raised enough of a ruckus that the guys left and I helped the lady to the motel front office so that she could get help and wouldn’t be alone.”

Dean swallowed thickly then continued briskly, mentally editing as he went, “A few days later, I had to get Sam some medicine for a head cold that he had caught. On the way back, the guys caught up with me and forced me into the alley, looking for some payback.”

He paused for a quick instant before reciting abruptly, in a hurry to get past this, “The lady I helped, she repaid the favor and got them to leave me alone. Then she told me that she knew who I was and what you were, Dad. It was her coven you were after. She’d lost control of it and wanted to make sure they couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. She was more wicca, Mother Earth – type, while the others went dark side. She appreciated you being their target so that she could undermine them in secret. It allowed her more leverage or something. I was too worried about Sammy to really pay attention as she went on.” He shrugged uncertainly because he still wasn’t really sure what she had been talking about.

“Anyway, as a show of appreciation, she cast a spell, or curse, on me. It allowed me to morph if I needed to. It was under my control, mostly, unless I lost consciousness. Then I would revert back to human but it allowed me to not get caught in a bad situation like that again.”

“Wait,” John interrupted incredulously, “You mean you’ve been able to do that since you were ten.”

“Yeah,” Dean admitted reluctantly.

“Why don’t I remember any of that?” Sam complained sullenly at being left out. He couldn’t believe that Dean wouldn’t have confided something like this to him. “You never turned wolf the whole time I knew you and you were in some really serious situations, Dean.”

“Well, one, you were always in the hotel room back then, most of the time with a serious head cold,” Dean dismissed easily. “And you were six. Two, I never turned in front of either of you because I didn’t want you to know about it. It was only for extreme emergencies, like if there was no one else around. I did eventually turn during a couple of hunts when I was alone and things went really wrong.”

“But I do remember being sick, Dean, and Dad being more than a week late. The owner kept banging on the door every day looking for rent and scaring the crap out of me,” Sam argued forcefully and remembered, “Then you came back after meeting with him . . .”

“Sam,” Dean interrupted quickly, desperately trying to shut his stubborn ass brother up, “You were hopped up on cold medicine. You don’t remember anything. Trust me.”

“No, I remember. You were hurt, Dean,” Sam insisted doggedly. “You were hurt lot after that second week. Every time you left, you came back limping.”

“Shut up,” Dean snarled furiously, completely pissed off. He started to stand up, still yelling, “Just the hell shut up! You don’t remember anything I’m telling you. You were delirious and hopped up on meds.”

“Dean,” John shouted out in warning, loud enough to be heard above his boys’ argument. “Stop it.”

Dean paused instantly as he’d been trained to do then threw himself back down into his seat on the couch and glared back at the window. He really wanted Cas here now so he didn’t have to remember any of this crap. He didn’t ever want to remember that time. EVER.

John looked uneasily between the two boys, searching for clues, and then glanced over at Adam who was staring at Dean sympathetically. He narrowed his eyes but decided not to put the youngest in the middle again. He turned his attention back to Dean and realized he really didn’t want to question Dean about this now, especially after Azazel had shown him about what had happened to Dean in the Pit. Repeatedly.

John sighed heavily at yet another indication that he had been a horrible father to his eldest and the fact that his eldest had been more of a father to Sam than he had ever been. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to get back on topic. He cleared his throat then clarified intently as a sudden thought struck him, “Wait a minute. Silver never affected you then.”

Dean returned his gaze to his father and verified easily, “No, the silver thing was definitely from the Pit. Probably from Cas’s bite. Although, come to think of it, he never had a reaction to silver. Huh. Weird. His tracking collar was different, too. It had really weird, strange designs on it. Completely different than all of the rest of us.”

“Is his name really Cas?” Adam prodded curiously.

Dean paused then glared at Adam and clarified hotly, “What do you mean by that?”

“I was just curious,” Adam defended. “I mean, if he couldn’t remember his past, how does he know his name? Is it like selective amnesia or total? Besides, Cas sounds like a nickname.”

Dean frowned at that point but related honestly, “It was total amnesia. All he remembers is the Pit. He was bitten during one of his first matches early on. He got his name from Zach. That’s what Zach always called him while the asshat was ‘questioning’ Cas. Cas said that he always sneered it, like the whole idea of interacting with him was beneath the pompous ass.”

“So, he doesn’t even know his real name,” Bobby concluded with disappointment.

“No, not really,” Dean admitted reluctantly.

“But you called him something else the first day you were here,” Adam argued.

“Yeah, a freakin’ mother hen,” Dean snapped irritably. Adam stared at Dean meaningfully but Dean didn’t give anything away so Adam let it drop. Dean quickly realized what Adam was getting at but he wanted to talk to Cas about it before mentioning it to anyone else.

“What about this Zachariah character?” Bobby wondered, getting back to the topic.

Dean stared at him for a long moment before he described, “He was a middle aged, balding corporate type douche nozzle, last time I saw. Or, at least, that’s who he was wearing. Nothing really works on him, like Cas said, which is a lot like Cas. In fact, they both can teleport and all that stuff as far as I can tell. I think they are the same species, even though they hate each other.”

“So, we just need to figure out what species that is,” John grumbled unhappily.

Dean frowned heavily as he added, “I do know that Zach isn’t a werecat or a demon. He’s something I’ve never seen before. And, honestly, never want to see again.” Dean hid a sudden yawn behind his hand but John noticed.

John suggested reasonably, “Let’s call it a night and hit the books in the morning. If you give us a description of character traits, Dean, Bobby and Adam will research it while you and I put the Impala back together.”

“Thanks a lot,” Sam huffed with hurt feelings.

John smirked slightly but replied honestly, “You, Sam, need to figure out what you are doing because like Dean said, it’s your call now. I can’t leave this life any more than Dean or Bobby can. It’s all I know now and I can’t let people die for the sake of normal. Adam needs to choose, too, but Dean and I have already made our choices.”

“Then why did you include Adam in the research earlier and not me?” Sam pointed out, still insulted.

John arched an eyebrow as he countered in the same manner, “Because Adam has never once mentioned returning to school since he’s joined me, or complained about the life. I know he wants to keep hunting right now. You, I am honestly not sure about. You have talked about returning to Stanford after Azazel died and you are back to arguing with me so it seems to me like you are the only one who needs to decide what he wants. Everything you’ve said so far has been you wanting to return to normal as soon as possible and it is possible now. That’s all I’m saying.”

John turned and informed Bobby easily, “I’m getting a beer. Want one?”

Bobby nodded then Adam piped up, “Me, too.”

“Dean?” John checked hesitantly.

Dean shook his head, feeling his stomach turn at the suggestion. “Water,” he admitted with defeat.

John nodded then checked solicitously, “Sammy?”

Sam took the offer for what it was, a peace offering. “Yeah, I’ll take one.”

“I’ll help,” Adam offered as he got up and headed to the kitchen with his father.

After they came back and handed out drinks, John asked curiously, “We need to get a motel, Bobby?”

Bobby shook his head and reported clinically, “Up to you. The guest room is still available and has two singles in it. Someone can camp on the floor. Then there’s the couch and the floor in here.”

Dean drank some water then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He searched his mental link to see if Cas was somewhere close by while the others argued over beds. He was grateful that Bobby didn’t mention where he and Cas were staying.

“Dean should get one of the beds,” Sam insisted adamantly.

Bobby glanced over to see Dean doing a great impression of being asleep and pointed out easily, “Looks like he’s settled where he is.” The others looked over and saw the same thing.

“In that case,” Sam amended quickly. “I vote short stuff here gets the floor.”

“No way,” Adam argued for the sake of arguing. “I’m the youngest so I get a bed.”

“Yeah, you sure are a baby, aren’t you?” Sam taunted with brotherly malice.

John rolled his eyes. He decided that he was definitely too tired for this and commanded, “You both get the beds. I’ll bunk down here with Dean.”

“What about Cas?” Adam asked hesitantly.

“Dean said he doesn’t sleep anymore,” Bobby reminded them quickly.

They nodded in remembrance then talked briefly about their previous hunts before heading up to bed for the night. John went to get some blankets when Bobby checked the time. He moved over to Dean and touched his shoulder gently.

Dean jerked awake and quickly surveyed the scene before he asked groggily, “How long was I out?”

“A little over an hour,” Bobby answered easily. “Should we be worried?”

Dean frowned heavily then called out in a soft voice, “Cas, I need you to come back now. You copy?” They waited a long moment without response.

John wandered back into the room with his bedding then frowned at their concerned expressions. “What’s going on?”

“Cas,” Dean stated but didn’t explain. He ran a hand over his face then clarified curiously, “Everyone going to bed?” Both men nodded. “Okay. I’ll look at a few books while I wait. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“What books?” Bobby wondered.

Dean shrugged noncommittally. “Don’t know. Just something to read mainly so I can stay awake.”

“Okay. Call me if you need something,” Bobby offered then headed off to bed.

Dean slowly got up and told his father, “Take the couch. I’ve slept enough for today.”

John started to argue with him but realized that his son was right. He made his bed while he watched Dean stare at the rows of books in Bobby’s library. Dean cocked his head to the right and picked out a book. John wondered curiously, “What did you pick?”

Dean read the title and made a weird face as he related with confusion, “Huh. A book on summoning rituals.” He shrugged and sat down behind the desk then started to thumb through it. He paused on a page in the middle of the book and started to read.

John laid down, watching his son. He wondered why his son was reading, much less reading about summoning rituals. Before he could figure it out, his body took control and he was asleep.

Dean’s subconscious took his mind over without him knowing it, which was really weird if one thought about it too long, but then again that was his life now. He really did not know how long he read then worked on autopilot. Everything he did seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, like something else was controlling him and keeping him in the dark.

Pain lanced through his left hand, causing him to gasp and wake up mentally, while he clutched it tightly. Bright white light flashed in the room, temporarily blinding him, then Cas appeared in front of him weaving unsteadily. Dean rose quickly from his kneeling position and grabbed Cas around his torso to support him. “Cas! Are you okay?”

“Dean?” Cas verified hoarsely. “What did you do?”

Dean led Cas over to the bed and sat him down once Dean realized he was in the panic room. Dean blinked at his surroundings, trying to remember how he got here from the study, while Cas also surveyed their surroundings. Dean shook off his confusion and demanded in a rough voice, “Where the hell had you been?”

“Zachariah set a trap,” Cas related vaguely.

“What kind of trap?”

“A ring of fire,” Cas answered vaguely then corrected. “Holy fire.”

“Holy fire?” Dean clarified hesitantly. “How could you tell?”

Cas stared up at him with a frown then stated emotionlessly, “I don’t know. I just could.”

“Huh?”

“Did you summon me?” Cas wondered with some amazement.

Dean nodded uneasily then allowed hesitantly, “Or, at least, I think so.”

“How?”

Dean glanced back at the floor and they both surveyed the ritual site. Dean actually got up, walked over and picked up the book that was used. It was opened to the ritual he had just used. Dean read aloud slowly, “Angel summoning ritual?” He lowered the book then verified slowly, “You are an angel?”

“It would appear so,” Cas surmised uncertainly. “I could not resist long. Luckily, the fact that I fought the summoning at all resulted in disruption of the circle. Some debris fell on it, allowing me to respond. Otherwise, I fear it would have burned me severely.”

“Sorry,” Dean apologized with a wince. “I didn’t know.”

Cas waved it away dismissively and questioned, “How did you know to do this?”

“I don’t know,” Dean mumbled uneasily. “I just picked up this book and opened it to this page. It just . . . I don’t know . . . it felt right, I guess. What did Zach want?”

“You,” Cas informed him. “And me. He wants both of us, separately, for eternity. But mainly he wants you back in the Pit and me locked up somewhere permanently painful. He wants to break you in a way that I am not familiar with. I need to hide you from him. Come here.”

Dean walked over and stood by the bed where Cas sat. Cas patted the bed and he ordered, “Lay down.” Dean arched eyebrows in surprise but did as Cas ordered. Once he was settled in the bed beside where Cas sat, Cas placed a hand on Dean’s rib cage then warned, “This will hurt some but it will hide you from both angels and demons.”

Dean nodded in understanding then arched his back as pain scored deeply into his entire rib cage. Dean gritted his teeth to hold in his pain but a whimper leaked out. Dean groaned in disappointment at his lack of control. Finally the pain let up and Dean released the breath that he’d held. He panted slightly, “What did you do? Burn me?”

“No, I carved sigils into your ribs,” Cas explained easily. “Zach’s cocky monologues allowed me to remember more of my ‘angelic’ nature, including spells and rituals. I’m sure that having the collar removed also aided my memory.”

“Okay. Well, what about you?” Dean wondered hoarsely. “Did you do this to yourself?”

“No, I remembered how to hide myself from him.”

“What about other angels?”

“Do I need to hide from others?” Cas countered curiously.

Dean shrugged and admitted, “I have no idea but, if the others were looking for you, they should have been able to find you like Zach, right?”

“Theoretically,” Cas conceded.

“So then maybe they are on Zach’s side,” Dean concluded reasonably, even though he felt bad when Cas frowned. “Look, I don’t know that for sure but I do think it would be smart for us to investigate before sticking our heads out, you know? I mean, just popping into heaven and saying, ‘Here I am,’ might not be the best idea.”

Cas nodded and agreed reluctantly, “I see your point.”

Dean clearly saw the disappointment in Cas’s eyes and felt bad for his friend. He encouraged, “Look, it’s not permanent. It’s just until we find out who turned you over. Then, if it’s safe, you can go back home.” Dean didn’t want to think about how he would feel the day that happened. In fact, he didn’t want to think about that happening at all.

Cas enjoyed the image Dean created for him only for the briefest instant then he smiled at his friend. He countered firmly, “Dean, I would never leave you for any extended amount of time.” Dean returned the smile but a much needed yawn took him totally by surprise. Cas noticed and ordered gently, “Let’s get some sleep. We will go over this more in the morning.”

Dean’s eyes were already closing while he commented, “At least now we know what to research.”

“True,” Cas agreed readily. “Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Cas,” Dean mumbled, easily falling into the welcoming darkness.

Chapter Text

Over the next couple of months, Dean meticulously worked on the Impala, putting her back together like she used to be, while the rest of his family hunted. He stayed at Bobby’s house while he worked. He also helped field calls for research and helped out Bobby when Bobby needed help with his business. This also allowed him to heal up and research angels secretly with Cas.

Cas kept Zachariah off their case by leaving false leads in different parts of the world. He left leads for Dean in areas that had actual hunts but not where any of the other Winchesters were. He also kept an eye out for the other Winchesters whenever possible as he relearned and experimented with his angelic nature.

By the end of the second month, the Impala was back in its pre-wreck condition and Dean had finally started to get some of his old energy back. He stopped throwing up in the mornings as well which was an enormous relief to everyone. He even assisted on the hunt for Sam after Sam disappeared in Texas. Unfortunately, he met up with Sam in Duluth, MN, only Sam wasn’t really Sam anymore.

After the demon possessing Sam shot him and Jo patched him up, Dean hightailed it back to Bobby’s only to discover Meg firmly locked into his younger brother’s meat suit. With some quick thinking, Bobby managed to outsmart Meg and set Sam free but not before Dean took a serious beating. Dean repaid Sam with only one punch before it was too much for him and he had to go throw up again.

Luckily, he had already told Adam to make Steve Wendell’s murder point towards Gordon Walker and Cas arrived later to help make that happen. Cas then flew home to Bobby’s to find Dean sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, looking like hell warmed over. Cas growled menacingly over the damage but Dean stopped him from doing anything potentially embarrassing, or violent, barely. He knew that when he got hurt some protective instinct in Cas flared up and took over control of Cas’s mind. It became an almost animalistic instinct to protect and avenge any wrong done to his family, which was still mainly Dean.

Dean quickly stood up and headed downstairs as soon as Cas got close to him. That allowed Cas to calm slightly, although he was still livid. His friend absolutely hated returning to find him injured in anyway. It caused Pit flashbacks, most of which were very not good.

“They all need to get tattoos, Dean,” Cas snapped irately as he shove Dean into their room, the panic room. “I told your father that after Azazel’s possession.” He slammed the door shut and commanded furiously, “Take off your shirt so I can see the gunshot.”

Dean sighed with resignation but did what Cas told him to willingly. Verbally, he bargained, “Look, just don’t kill, hurt, or maim anyone over this and I will make sure they all get them before anyone leaves here again. Deal?” Cas reluctantly agreed then healed Dean’s physical damage with a touch. The next day, other Winchesters agreed to the tattoos as well as Bobby which alleviated some of their worries.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

About a week later, Dean stared out at the dark night while he relaxed inside his baby. Sure, he was going about eighty miles per hour but that only intensified his pleasure at the moment. He missed this. He missed driving, hunting, relaxing . . .

He had his tunes playing on the radio as he drove to help his brothers with their hunt. Contentment flowed through him. Being around his family again, even though currently it was only in between hunts, made him happier than he’d been in a long time. Having Bobby’s place set up as a home base of sorts only intensified that feeling for him.

In fact, the only downside so far was that he hadn’t heard anything from Cas since the day his family got tattoos. Later that same day, Cas had left to recon things in angel land. While Dean did enjoy his mother hen free existence at the moment, he really missed his friend.

After Zepp’s Ramble On played, Manfred Mann’s Blinded by the Light came on. Dean smirked slightly at the memory of how much Cas had enjoyed this song the first time he’d heard it. He could deal with it but it wasn’t one of his favorites. He listened to it, though, while he mentally reviewed the facts of the hunt he was still five hours away from. He had been driving since yesterday evening and didn’t expect to arrive until about seven in the morning.

He frowned slightly when he realized that Cas’s song had just played again. After the third time in a roll, he rolled his eyes slightly and ordered lightly, “If you are going to hang out, turn visible and hang out but don’t mess with my radio, Featherhead. Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

Cas appeared in the front passenger seat and countered easily with only a hint of superiority, “Unless shotgun has super powers that control said radio in which case the driver is shotgun’s little bitch.”

Dean glared at Cas and snapped irately, “I ain’t nobody’s little bitch.”

Cas just gave him a knowing look which had Dean flushing with anger, yes, definitely anger. Nothing else. Cas smirked mockingly but allowed generously, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Dean growled low in warning, deep in his throat, and Cas cocked an eyebrow then pointed out logically, “See, you’re even the right species.”

“Shut up, asshat,” Dean grumbled irritably at that unfortunate fact. “Speaking of, since you got all your angel mojo back, can you still turn cat, too?”

Cas cocked his head to the side thoughtfully then admitted ruefully, “I honestly haven’t tried. I really don’t feel it anymore, though. Interesting question.” Cas paused with a very concentrated look on his face.

“Now, you just look constipated,” Dean observed dryly.

Cas glared at him before he answered confidently, “No, I cannot.”

“Huh. Well, I guess angel does kinda trump cat.”

Cas nodded in agreement but with pointed exception, “Except for the prowling.”

Dean smirked and allowed easily, “Except for the prowling.” Then Dean wondered curiously, “Well, where have you been lately? I haven’t seen you in over a week.”

“I’ve been checking out leads, investigating my past,” Cas almost whispered conspiratorially

“And?” Dean prodded after a long silence.

Cas shifted uneasily then related sadly, “Apparently, I am a traitor.”

“Says who?” Dean snapped in outrage.

“Several angels. I’ve heard them stating that I have killed several of my brothers and sisters. I am close to falling from grace,” Cas intoned with underlying turmoil.

“And you believe that?” Dean verified harshly.

Cas gave a slight shrug then answered plainly, “Why would they lie about it? They didn’t know I was listening in.”

“Oh, I don’t know, but maybe Zach set you up,” Dean hypothesized hopefully. Cas stared at him in surprise which gave Dean the confidence to continue. “I mean, look. You are not a killer. You have never been an out and out killer. Not even in the Pit. And if anything could have made you into one, the Pit would have.”

“I have killed, Dean,” Cas argued firmly.

“So have we all but only as a last resort,” Dean corrected adamantly. “And what better way to get other angels turn you over to him than to set you up in a way that no one would trust you, right? Besides, do you even know how to kill an angel? Because we haven’t found that in any of our research yet.”

Cas nodded slowly then replied as an afterthought, “I remembered it about a week ago. All warrior angels are gifted with swords. You have to use an angel sword to kill another angel. That is the only way.”

“So only an angel can kill another angel,” Dean clarified for confirmation.

“Yes, I believe it is because when an angel is killed the grace that is released will kill most creatures, including humans.”

“So where is your angel sword?” Dean wondered.

“I don’t know,” Cas admitted reluctantly. “I don’t even remember what it looked like but I am certain that I would know it if I saw it.”

“What are the chances that Zach took it and totally set you up for this considering he was one of the main ones holding you captive?” Dean prodded further.

“Very good, at this point,” Cas conceded immediately. “But he is more powerful than me. I cannot fight him yet and I don’t know where he could be keeping it.”

“So we keep searching and evading until we come up with something,” Dean summarized confidently, trying to disguise how hopeless it all sounded.

Cas nodded in agreement then questioned sharply, “Where are you headed, Dean?”

“Oh, yeah. How did you find me, by the way?”

“You left a note at Bobby’s. I searched the highways until I came across you,” Cas summarized easily.

“Good thinking. Anyway, Bobby’s helping Rufus with a hunt and my brothers called. Sounds like they are about to kill each other and they cannot figure out their hunt. So, I’m headed there to see what’s what,” Dean recited easily.

“Dean,” Cas started out.

“Don’t, Cas,” Dean interrupted abruptly. “Just don’t. Okay? I am healed and rested and my brothers need help so don’t you dare go all mother hen on me now.”

Cas paused then redirected with purpose, “Where is your father?”

“That’s another thing. He’s missed his last two check ins and I’m starting to get worried,” Dean admitted irritably. “Could be nothing but . . .”

Cas cocked his head in thought then offered, “Would you like me to search him out?”

“Could you?” Dean asked with relieved hope. “I have a bad feeling about it.”

“Very well,” Cas responded formally. “I will call when I have him. Be safe, Dean.” With a rush of air, Cas vanished from sight and Dean heard the Manfred Mann song again.

“Fix my damn radio first, asshat,” Dean yelled irritably to the car’s ceiling.

The song changed but what replaced it had Dean groaning even louder. He snarled irately, “Aw, come on, Cas. Really? A bit sacrilegious, don’t you think? If not, blasphemous.”

“Like you care about either,” Cas taunted mockingly through Dean’s mind. “Better learn to show me some respect, bitch. I am a warrior of God. I saved you in the Pit. I can send you someplace much, much worse. Remember that, Dean.”

Dean blinked in shock at the demand and resolve in Cas’s words. He mentally flinched then backed off in a subtle sign of submission. He knew he was being an ass but that was actually part of who he was. He didn’t expect Cas to react that way, though. It worried him enough to back down for the moment.

He sighed heavily then glared at the radio and the song it was playing. What made him hate the song even more than he already did (mainly, because it was so not the type of music he normally listened to) was the fact that it was totally appropriate. As he listened to the words, he suddenly found himself shaking his head over his friend’s overinflated sense of ego. He sincerely hoped that Cas would be through with punishing him by the time he picked his brothers up.  

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Almost a day later, Dean found himself entering a college auditorium, listening to a classic Barry White playing through the sound system. He immediately saw two very scantily clad women in the center of a red satin covered king sized bed, staring at him hungrily. He forgot how to breathe for a moment because this was a scene directly out of his dreams. Or, at least, his old dreams before they were filled with blood, pain, and torture.

He didn’t even realized he was slowly walking forward while he mentally cursed that this wasn’t real and that he wasn’t that young man anymore. He knew from what Bobby had heard from his brothers that they were dealing with a demigod, a Trickster, who would create things and people out of nothing to torment and kill people. When he had his brothers tell him, and Bobby who was on speaker phone, all the things this creature had done, he had cracked up, especially over the slow dancing alien. But the Trickster was still a monster so they had to kill it.

Once the Trickster showed itself, Dean frowned slightly over the slightly familiar scent and wondered why the thing reminded him of Cas. Shaking that off, he confronted it but had to admit that he liked its style. When the Trickster realized that Dean wasn’t going to let it go, Adam and Sam showed up. Soon after that, all hell broke loose as Dean was attacked by the women. Sam and Adam fought off a chainsaw massacre type thing. The second Dean had the opportunity, he staked the Trickster and all three of them quickly got the heck out of the building.

At the Impala, Adam and Sam attempted to have a bro moment but Dean snapped irritably, “Aw, geez, you’re breaking my heart. Let’s save the chick-flick bonding, hugs, and doing our nails until after we have vacated the crime scene area. Can we leave now?”

Adam and Sam shared as quick smile before Sam climbed into the passenger seat and Adam scrambled into the middle of the backseat. They both missed the wince Dean made as he leaned forward to start up the Impala. He lightly bit the inside of his top lip at the pain radiating from his bruised ribs and back. He still didn’t know how he’d hurt them so badly but then again part of that fight was a total blur for him.

Only a few minutes into the long drive back to Bobby’s, Sam frowned and turned to stare at Dean. He knew he was going to catch crap for this but he just had to ask, “Since when do you listen to Marilyn Manson?”

Dean clenched his jaw and growled low in his throat. His disposition didn’t improve any when Adam busted out laughing. Dean snapped irately, “Just shut the hell up. The stupid radio’s broken.”

“Or you lost a bet with Cas,” Adam surmised tauntingly, not knowing how close he got to the truth of at least who broke the radio, if not the cause.

“What the hell do you know, short bus?” Dean snarked dismissively, praying that they wouldn’t pursue the topic.

“Oh, God, you did, didn’t you?” Sam laughed obnoxiously as he caught on purely based on his older brothers’ reaction. “Sucks to be you.”

Dean cursed under his breath, knowing there was no way to stop the laughter now. “Dicks,” Dean named grumpily, focusing on all three of the thorns in his side at the moment. “See if I drive through the night to save any of your asses again.” That just set off new peals of laughter so Dean turned up the radio to drown them out. Yeah, the song was better than the mocking laughter which said a whole lot.

At the end of the song, it actually switched to Manfred Mann and his brothers soon passed out. He caught himself softly singing along because he definitely knew this song by heart now. Finally, Cas apparently forgave him somewhat because the next song was Metallica. He sighed with relief and decided he could put up with Cas’s songs if he could at least listen to some of his too.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fourteen hours later, Dean had about had it. He could barely keep his eyes open and his brothers were starting to finally wake up when his cell phone rang. He jerked slightly in surprise at the sudden sound, realizing that he’d been zoning out again. So not a good thing to do behind the wheel. He answered it by the third ring, “Yeah?”

“Dean, it’s me,” Cas responded quickly. “I have your father. We are at Bobby’s.”

“Is he okay?” Dean demanded immediately, picking up something at Cas’s tone.

“He has some minor injuries and a concussion but will be fine.”

“Where was he?” Dean prodded with concern. “What happened?”

“Zachariah,” Cas answered, stating a lot within that single name.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed violently. “He set a trap for me, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Cas confirmed reluctantly before demanding harshly, “Where are you?”

“About an hour away.”

“Where exactly, Dean?” Cas bit out impatiently.

“What? Why?” Dean wondered with confusion.

“So I can come get you,” Cas enunciated very slowly, like he was talking to a child who couldn’t understand simple English.

Dean rolled his eyes slightly then insisted staunchly, “I’m fine, Cas. My brothers are with me. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Where, Dean?” Cas snapped irritably, clearly not interested in Dean’s opinion.

“Cas, drop it,” Dean snapped back, clearly without patience. “Take care of Dad and Bobby. Wait. Is Bobby there?” Dean demanded, worried that Zachariah might have set another trap.

“Bobby is here. Now tell me . . .”

“Cas, I want you to stay there and protect them,” Dean enunciated very slowly in a totally pissed off voice. “I. Am. Fine. My brothers are with me and we will be home in less than an hour.” Dean hung up the phone and prayed that Cas would calm down by the time he got there.

Adam winced in the back seat then commented slowly, using an old song verse that he knew Dean would recognize instantly, “Dean. You know, ‘you don’t tug on Superman’s cape’**.”

“Yeah,” Sam added in. “’You don’t spit into the wind.’”

“Alright, you wiseasses,” Dean barked out, still clearly completely ticked off. “Shut the hell up. I get it.”

Adam ignored him because he was on a roll. He continued singing joyfully with a slight modification and Sam quickly joined in, “’You don’t pull the mask of the old Lone Ranger and you don’t mess around with’ Cas.” Sam snickered helplessly and, in no time, he and Adam were laughing again.

Dean tried to hide his smirk which grew into a smile at his brothers’ antics. He glared without any heat and informed them both shortly, “You both suck, you know that? Bitches.”

“Jerk,” they taunted back in unison.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Dean thankfully killed the Impala’s engine after he pulled into Bobby’s salvage yard and sighed wearily. Sam had just opened his door while Adam asked from the back seat, “Hey, are you okay, Dean?”

“Just tired,” Dean mumbled. “Been up going on, what, forty-eight hours or so without sleep, most of it driving.”

“Should have said something,” Sam scolded lightly. “You know we would have taken a shift.”

“Yeah,” Dean acknowledged as he opened the door. “Well, you both were sacked out so I figured you needed it and after you got up, you kept me awake. I’m good. I’ll hit the hay as soon as we get in and make sure everyone’s okay.”

They all clambered out of his baby. He swayed slightly, feeling the dizziness and the pull on his muscles again. He slowly stretched, taking care not to pull his already sore muscles too much, and then opened the trunk where his brothers were waiting. They all got their bags out and made their way up Bobby’s steps then into the house.

Adam entered first, followed closely by Sam. Dean brought up the rear as usual and followed his brothers into the study after they all dropped their bags in the entry way. He entered the study and saw the bruises on his father’s face. He winced guiltily then demanded automatically, “Are you okay?”

He didn’t hear the response if there was one. Cas immediately slammed him back into the door frame of the study that he’d been standing by. Cas growled low in his throat and warned menacingly, “You don’t hang up on me. Ever.” He paused and sniffed slightly before his eyes flared almost completely black.

Dean swallowed thickly, wondering what the hell was going on.

Cas hissed violently, “You reek. What did you do?”

Dean frowned heavily and snarked automatically, “Way to hold back, Cas. Tell me how you really feel. Don’t spare my feelings or anything.”

Cas pressed Dean harder into the wooden door frame, causing Dean to have a difficult time breathing. The wood behind him cracked slightly at the pressure and Dean’s vision started to black out. Cas snarled very low in Dean’s ear, “Its scent is all over you. Their scent. What have you done, bitch?”

“Cas,” Dean whimpered in an almost breath because he didn’t have any to use. He was losing consciousness. He felt the darkness rising up to meet him. Sadly, this circumstance had become so common place for him.

“Cas!” The others in the room unconsciously echoed Dean’s whimper without hearing it. They didn’t know what was going on but they could see Dean’s eyes rolling up inside his head. They rushed forward to break up the fight, or whatever it was, but Cas pulled Dean off the door frame and disappeared within seconds. The front door slammed shut as did the kitchen door in the wake of air turbulence that was the only evidence of its previous occupants.

“What the hell!” John exclaimed in fatherly concern. All four men charged for the doorway when a man suddenly appeared in front of them. They stopped short at the sight.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he cautioned tauntingly. “There isn’t enough therapy in the world for what you all would find if you did. Trust me.”

“Trust a Trickster?” Adam repeated with amused contempt, instantly recognizing the creature.

“We killed you,” Sam snarled irately at about the same time.

“Obviously not, bucko,” the Trickster pointed out, answering Sam’s question first.

“Easily corrected,” Sam acknowledged hotly.

“That’s what you think, Sasquatch,” it rebutted with a condensing taunt. Sam made a movement toward it and a chair appeared behind Sam. Next thing anyone knew, Sam was tied to the chair with duct tape over his mouth. “Time for the grownups to talk, Sammy boy.

“Now, while it pains me to say this, we need to talk. Unfortunately, it seems that the ones with the most information are otherwise occupied so I will be back and, yes, I know, you are all going to be sharpening your stakes in the meantime, yadda, yadda, yadda, but, hey, that’s the least of my concerns right now and it is better than some of the things you could be playing with, especially Sammy here. So, give me a shout when Tweedle Dee and Dumber are done. Ciao.” The creature disappeared with a snap of its fingers, leaving the other men to free Sam.

Chapter Text

Cas sensed the incoming creature before it materialized. He scrambled out of bed then aimed Dean's sawed off shotgun at the creature as it appeared. The creature smirked mockingly at him then greeted cockily, "Hey ya, Castiel. Guess I don't need to ask how's it hanging?" The creature stared pointedly at Cas's boxer clad form then snapped its fingers.

Cas felt very soft clothes cling to his body in a very unfamiliar way. Cas blinked and his normal clothes of jeans and a navy t-shirt appeared on his frame instead of the blue satin dress Gabriel had placed on him. Cas inclined his head slightly and greeted his older brother then bargained emotionlessly, "Gabriel. I will go with you quietly if you leave Dean out of this."

"Okay," Gabriel drew out the single word slowly, making each syllable into two times longer than normal, then questioned rhetorically. "Why do I feel like I didn't receive my script today? Did my girl get your memo? Were new lines issued that I didn't know about? I so have to get me a new agent."

Cas gave a very heavy, resigned sigh then pointed in a low, irate voice, "I don't understand any of those references."

"Right," Gabriel commented sarcastically. "Of course not." He sighed heavily with disappointment, "You always were the non-fun workaholic of the family."

In the background, Dean moaned slightly then shifted and sighed heavily. He never actually woke up but he caught the attention of both parties. Gabriel suggested firmly, "We need to move this to a different location." Gabriel snapped his fingers and Cas noticed that they were both on top of Bobby's roof now.

Cas cocked his head slightly in confusion then questioned curiously, "Why are we on Bobby's roof?"

"We are learning how to be roofers as our second career. Here's your sign," Gabriel snarked lightly but was meet with a blank stare. "Because it's close and cheap? It also leaks," Gabriel tried again with more snarky elusiveness. Cas only continued to stare intently at the archangel. Gabriel rolled his eyes in exasperation then commented with resignation, "I had really forgotten how you always did that."

"Did what?"

"The creepy stalker staring thing," Gabriel clarified shortly then shook his head. As much as he missed and wanted to taunt his little brother, there were bigger concerns here. He quickly explained, "It's out of the way and I get the feeling that you didn't want to stray too far right now."

Cas gave a very short nod then concluded harshly, "You're the one who marked Dean. Why?"

"Because he smelled like grace. In fact, he reeked of it, like really reeked," Gabriel pointed out obviously. "Considering none of us are supposed to be here right now, I had to find out who broke the rules."

Cas frowned heavily at that information then countered curiously with a confused head tilt, "Why aren't we supposed to be here?"

Gabriel frowned in returned then asked with his own serious confusion, "How do you not know that? And what are you doing with Dean Winchester of all humans?"

Cas cocked his head to the other side slightly in confusion at the questions then prodded obliviously, "Why not Dean? What is wrong with being friends with Dean?"

Gabriel paused, taken back at his brother's questions, and thought for a long moment. They really weren't getting anywhere this way. He redirected cautiously, "Why did you come to earth, Castiel? For Dean? Did you just get this 'Basic Instinct' thing for him or what?"

Cas continued to frown because his confusion was only getting worse. He focused on the only question that he could truly answer. He related slowly, "Dean was my cell mate . . . in the Pit. We . . . became . . . dependent on each other."

"What? Wait, wait, wait," Gabriel interrupted quickly, "What? What Pit? You mean, the Pit? As in Hell?"

Cas shook his head once then verbalized vaguely, "I do not believe it was Hell although that would explain some of the tortures, and . . . other things. It could have been, though. Now that I think about it . . ."

"Whoa! Hold the phone," Gabriel snapped out immediately in outrage. "You were tortured? You? My little brother, Castiel, the angel of Thursday, was tortured?"

"Yes," Cas replied emotionlessly, answering all over his older brother's questions with that one word.

"By who?" Gabriel demanded irately.

"Zachariah, mainly," Cas answered tightly. "Dean was tortured by the same as well as many, many others"

"But Zach was the only one who touched you," Gabriel verified firmly. Cas nodded once. Gabriel grumbled to himself under his breath then mimicked, "Figures. That two-faced douchebag. 'I have four faces, one of which is a lion.' Oh, please. Big whoopty-do."

Castiel frowned yet again in confusion. He wondered if he would always be confused but had to correct his brother's misconception. "I saw no lion's face."

Gabriel chortled slightly then clarified with amusement, "That's because it's a lionfish. He always leaves off the second word to make it seem more . . . intimidating." Gabriel shrugged and allowed, "Honestly, I probably would, too, if my other choices were a platypus, dodo, and a guinea pig." He shook his head and laughed slightly to himself, "Lucifer should have never challenged Father to make something like that work but Luce always had to push limits and Father could never resist a challenge."

Gabriel shook his head in disbelief then returned his attention the present conversation. "Why, Castiel? Why would Zach do that to you? Or Dean, for that matter?"

"I really do not know unless . . ." Cas trailed off thoughtfully.

"Cassie," Gabriel prodded impatiently then shook his head. He'd never had a lot of patience to begin with and now he needed a lot more answers than he was getting from Cas. The overwhelming sense of foreboding made him very uneasy. "Look, do you remember how to let me into your mind so I can see what happened to you?"

Cas thought for a long moment before he nodded. He added solemnly, "It would probably be better that way. Perhaps you can figure out what I cannot."

Gabriel grabbed Castiel's neck with his right hand and pulled his brother's head in close to his. They lightly touched foreheads together. Once the connection was made, Castiel mentally ran though all his memories starting at his oldest, waking up in the Pit, and working forward. There were a lot of them and Castiel wanted to make sure they were in order so that additional time wasn't wasted trying to figure out the sequences of events.

Castiel did, however, make sure that he didn't share any really private moments between Dean and him with Gabriel. Some things are better off not being shared. He was sure those moments were some of the things. Plus, he was certain that Dean never wanted anyone to know about those moments, especially the times when Dean remembered the abuse he went through both in the Pit and as a child.

Gabriel jerked back after Castiel showed him Dean summoning him out of the ring of holy fire as well as the angels' accusations against him. The last memory transferred was of his conversation with Dean on Dean's way home after Castiel had rescued John Winchester. They both stared at each other, feeling the link drop away abruptly. It took them a moment to gather their own thoughts back together.

Gabriel startled Castiel with a violently, harsh curse under his breath then announced briskly, "I'm going to check into all this. To say, 'Something's fishy in Denmark', would be the understatement of the century. Be back soon. Take care, Cassie."

Castiel nodded in relief then countered gratefully, "You, too, brother."

Both angels disappeared from the roof but headed in different directions.

Castiel flew back into the panic room without being noticed and checked on Dean who was once again in the throes of another Pit nightmare. Cas blinked away his clothes, except his boxers, and then slid in next to his friend. Dean quieted as soon as Cas's body came into contact with his body. He didn't wake up but subconsciously he recognized his friend's scent, and grace, and the nightmare fell away. Dean sighed in relief then tumbled back into the darkness of the abyss and slept peacefully.

Dean jerked awake abruptly, wondering why Cas had allowed him to dream that long without waking him up. He quickly scanned the room and found it empty then he had his answer. He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face wearily. He really hated that particular nightmare from the Pit. Anything that involved Alistair, or the spells and rituals, were always the worst for him. This particular memory contained all of the above and then some.

He felt vaguely nauseated with only the knowledge of what happened in it. He forbade his mind to actual show him any of the images, or he really would lose his lunch, or dinner, or whatever he had eaten last. He shook off the entire remembrance because he so didn't want to start his day that way.

He slowly stood up, still shaking slightly from his earlier terror. He quickly found his clothes from last night and slipped them on then gathered clean clothes, intent on taking a quick shower before eating. He got all his toiletries together and opened the panic room door, not at all surprised to find it still locked.

He climbed the stairs with methodical distraction. His mind automatically reviewed that his last memories of the past day's events. None of it gave him a clue as to where his friend had gone to, unless it was after Zach. He really hoped that Cas wasn't that stupid.

He paused at the top step and prayed softly, "Dear Castiel, get your feathery ass back here pronto or let me know where you are because if I don't know within the next hour or so, I'm going to summon your angel ass to get you the hell away from that A1 douche nozzle. One hour. Hear me, Cas? Over and out."

He knew he wouldn't get an immediate response so he continued into the kitchen where he was shocked by his family's reaction to his presence. Adam flew at him and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. Sam and John exclaimed with relieved excitement, "Dean!"

Dean froze in shock, mouthing, "What the fu-?"

Bobby turned from where he was cooking breakfast and explained shortly, "They thought you'd finally pushed Cas over the edge." He shrugged then returned to his task and asked casually, "Hungry?"

Dean gave Adam a quick hug and answered easily, "Starving. Cas say where he was going this time?"

Bobby shook his head without turning around. "Haven't seen him since he left with you in a snit." Dean grunted in acknowledgement as he shoved Adam away playfully.

"Dean," John demanded quickly, recovering from his shock. "Where the hell –"

Dean held up a hand and interrupted abruptly, "Not now. I need a shower, like yesterday. We'll talk while we eat." He quickly strode off and headed up stairs before John could recover from Dean totally ignoring him.

As soon as he could, he closed the bathroom door and locked it. He knew he didn't have much time so he rushed through a quick shower then brushed his teeth. Finally, he dressed in clean clothes then gathered up his dirty clothes and headed back downstairs with his stomach growling adamantly.

"Well, there's the little princess now," Bobby teased with gruff snark as he carried food over to the table.

"Little?" Dean grumbled as he dropped his clothes on the washer, intending on taking care of it after breakfast. He turned back around then found all the food on the table and his family already sitting down. He checked his drink and saw the coffee cup at his place. He grimaced but grabbed the cup then filled it with milk instead. He sat down at his place between Adam and Bobby. Sam sat opposite him and on Bobby's other side. John sat in between Sam and Adam. They all quickly filled their plates and dug in.

In between bites, John demanded, "Where the hell have you been, Dean? And what the hell was that last night?"

Dean breathed out a sigh of relief that it was only one night this time. He shrugged as he chewed then answered with food still in his mouth, "I've been asleep and I have no clue what the hell happened last night. Something set him off but I'm not sure what."

"What you do mean you're not sure?" John continued with disbelief.

"We didn't really talk about it," Dean answered nonchalantly. "I'd been going without sleep for almost forty-eight hours. I was exhausted and not in the mood to put up with whatever his problem was. We yelled at each other briefly then stopped to catch our breaths. I passed out shortly after, not long after we left here, in fact."

Everyone around the table stared at him in total disbelief. He snapped shortly, "What?"

"Seriously?" Sam demanded irritably.

"What?"

"Dean, you never just fall asleep when someone is yelling in your face," Sam explained with exasperation. "And you expect us to believe that Cas didn't once mention his problem while he was yelling at you? Where the hell did he take you anyway?"

"Yeah, how come you came up Bobby's basement stairs?" Adam wondered, entering the fray. "How did you get into the house?"

John narrowed his eyes as things clicked into place. He easily concluded, "You two have been sleeping in his panic room, haven't you?"

Dean flinched slightly while both of his brothers' mouths fell open. Dean glared and denied hotly, "Dad! It's not like that."

"Oh, sure it is, chuckle head," Gabriel piped in with his usual taunting snark as he appeared in the kitchen doorway leading to the study.

Dean switched his glare over to the Trickster as his detail-oriented mind made note of the rush of air that preceded its appearance, just like Cas. "No way," Dean argued desperately as he mentally made connections. He so didn't want this idiot to be the same species as Cas. He didn't want this thing to be in any way related to his angel. "Come on. Please tell me I imagined that."

"Nope," Gabriel answered proudly with a gigantic smile, thinking they were still talking about his original comment. "How's it hanging, bucko?"

Dean closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in annoyance while Sam offered sheepishly, "Yeah, apparently you missed because he showed up last night after you and Cas, uh, disappeared."

Dean's eyes flew open, making a totally different connection within his own paranoia. In a blur of motion, he stood, charged and slammed Gabriel up against the doorframe with a knife to his throat before anyone at the table could fully process what was happening. Dean growled low and menacingly, "Where is he? Where is Cas?"

Gabriel smiled tauntingly and Dean reacted instantly. He stabbed Gabriel right in the heart then pulled the gun out of the back of his jeans which was as much a part of getting dress as putting on underwear. He held it up under Gabriel's chin and promised harshly, "Tell me where the hell he is or I will find some damn holy oil and fry me up some wings, extra crispy."

"Dean. Let him go!" Cas ordered harshly from behind him.

Dean swung around and stared at Cas appraisingly. His eyes took in every detail, making sure that his angel was unharmed. Once his eyes reported back that everything was good, he snarled accusingly, "Are you kidding me? What the hell, Cas? Why . . ."

Now that the adrenaline rush had faded, along with his extreme concern for Cas, his body suddenly decided he had moved way too fast earlier and it was not happy. He felt the room spin around him and heard Cas shout his name in warning but he couldn't really respond. He felt the darkness coming for him and fought back.

Cas appeared at his side instantly and touched his forehead then he found himself back in his chair with his head lying down on the table. He was very grateful that someone had moved his plate, even if he hadn't finished yet. The room slowed down and he could breathe again. He shuddered in relief that he hadn't completely blacked out.

"He sure doesn't seem all that, Cassie. I mean, sure, he's pretty and all, you know, for a human anyway, but you could do so much better," Gabriel insulted wryly as he pulled the knife out of his chest. "Don't know why you're slumming so much. Hope you didn't catch anything. What ever happened with you and Balty?"

"You know what? Bite me, asshat," Dean gritted out angrily. "If I had Cas's sword, I'd kill all you dicks."

"Dean," Cas cautioned solemnly.

"Not in this life, short bus," Gabriel scoffed without concern then called out, "Head's up, Cassie." He threw Dean's knife at his brother who easily caught it with a question in his gaze. Gabriel shrugged and advised wryly, "Just until your boy toy calms his homicidal tendencies."

"My what?" Cas questioned but Dean drowned it out while his adamant denial, "Am not!" Sam and Adam both made obnoxious noises as they tried desperately to stifle their laughter. Bobby just continued eating, ignoring the whole scene, while John watched the banter and all the parties intently.

"Cas, get me some damn holy oil pronto," Dean growled viciously while he stood up slowly this time, glaring daggers at Gabriel.

Cas sighed and informed him with exaggerated patience, "Dean, you are not going to kill my brother. At least, not this one. Besides, I put some in your trunk after you summoned me last time."

Dean turned to head to the car but Cas immediately blocked his way. Dean objected adamantly and he definitely did not whine doing it. That's his story and he's sticking to it. "Aw, come on, Cas. Just a little. Just his wings."

"In your dreams, big boy," Gabriel taunted suggestively. "Save that massive wing kink of yours for your boyfriend. Mine are off limits. Although how you can even let him touch them, Cassie, is totally beyond me. Don't they hurt?"

"Gabriel," Cas warned harshly.

"What?" Dean wondered, knowing this was something huge, but both angels only stared at each other in silent communication. "Oh, no you don't. What are you hiding now, Cas?" Dean demanded irritably as he moved into their field of vision.

"Needy, isn't he?" Gabriel taunted again. Dean growled low and turned to charge the insolent creature. Cas quickly grabbed his shoulder and held him back easily.

"Enough!" John interrupted loudly, slamming his hand down on the table. All the items on the table and several of the people at it jumped slightly. All eyes turned toward him. "Now, enough of this crap. I want to know what the hell is going on and I want to know now."

The angels and Dean all glanced at each other quickly before Cas introduced formally, "This is my brother, Gabriel. He has offered to help us figure out what is going on."

"Yea, right," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"Hurts, don't it, chuckles?" Gabriel taunted mercilessly, loving how easy it was to get a rise out of this human. "Just imagine how much you'll owe me after this."

"In your dreams, asshat. I'll take my chances," Dean snarled irritably, unable to tolerate the angel's teasing. "Why don't you go back to whatever rock you crawled out from? We'll handle this ourselves."

"Yea, because you have done so well so far," Gabriel countered with sarcastic venom then continued with barely restrained malice. "I especially love how my brother has to constantly save your ass. And how do you repay him? Or did you intend to disgrace my brother to the point that he can never return home? Because that's what you have done. He is now considered an abomination. Yea, you're really all that."

Dean growled low and fainted enough to escape Cas's grasp then charged Gabriel. He threw a punch that connected hard with Gabriel's left cheek. Gabriel barely moved but Dean felt like he'd broken his hand against a brick wall. Gabriel snapped his fingers and Dean vanished from the room.

"Gabriel," Cas growled angrily. "Where did you send him?"

"To his room," Gabriel smirked easily. "Isn't that where disobedient little brats go?"

They all heard boots charging up the basement steps. Dean appeared quickly and snapped irately, "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Oh, yeah? Think again, hot stuff." Gabriel snapped his fingers again and Dean disappeared. This repeated one more time but the last time the boots were slower coming up the stairs. Dean appeared in the hallway and walked cautiously toward the kitchen.

"Ready to behave now, bucko," Gabriel mocked lightly.

Cas studied Dean's greenish complexion and ordered firmly, "Enough, Gabriel." Then he turned and questioned with concern, "Dean?"

Dean ignored him and sat down at the table with his right hand tucked firmly against his stomach. He laid his head down on his other arm which rested on the table. He closed his eyes and concentrated on settling his stomach. It really didn't like the teleporting on top of not being feed yet. If he opened his mouth, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't hurl.

Cas touched his shoulder in concern and Dean turned his head just enough to look at Cas in the eyes. They stared at each other a moment then Cas nodded and stepped back. Cas reinforced Gabriel, "Leave him alone." Gabriel nodded solemnly.

"Dean?" John asked with concern.

Dean just shook his head and mumbled wearily, "'M fine. Just get it over with."

"Right," John answered uncertainly but continued, switching his attention to Castiel. "Just what the hell are you anyway?"

Gabriel quickly switched his persona, easily shifting from Trickster to archangel in a millisecond. He drew himself up and answered proudly, "Angels. I'm Gabriel and that's Castiel, my little brother."

"Wait," Sam interrupted quickly, "Gabriel? Like the Archangel Gabriel?"

"One in the same, big boy," Gabriel confirmed proudly.

"So that's where the feathers come in," Bobby concluded aloud, no longer eating.

"Bingo," Gabriel verified.

"Wait," John interrupted. "How does an angel wind up in a torture chamber for over two years? What did he do?"

Gabriel glared angrily and in the background rustling feathers could be heard. He bit out tightly, "Castiel didn't do anything. He is innocent."

"Oh, and my boy isn't?" John snapped back defensively, quickly standing up.

"Dad," Dean cautioned weakly. Surprisingly, John heard him and stopped to stare at him. Dean sighed wearily and suggested, "Just let him talk." John arched a meaningful eyebrow which had Dean blushing slightly. He knew he was the pot calling the kettle black but he'd learned and didn't want John teleported somewhere unknown.

Gabriel caught the hint and continued, "Actually, Dean didn't deserve what he got either." He paused, trying to sort out the best way to continue, and then decided there was no best way. He shook his head once then reported hesitantly, "This is where everything is hosed. As far as I can tell, Dean didn't die but he was thrown into Hell, or, rather, a Hellish dimension, which is basically the same thing."

"What?" All of the others exclaimed in shock.

Gabriel shrugged and looked directly at Dean. "Sorry, kiddo, but you were. Which is particularly troublesome because I know for a fact that you weren't supposed to be in Hell that way, and definitely not this soon." Dean paled at the implication.

"Excuse me," John growled with dangerous warning that dared the angel to say his eldest son belonged in Hell again.

Gabriel stared directly into his eyes and snarked slightly, "What? You're the one who showed him how to go there." John drew up to object but Gabriel ignored him as he continued to reason aloud to the room, "Only you didn't because you didn't have to. You didn't have to because Cas saved Dean which means . . ."

Everyone else stared at him in disbelief and a little concern. It appeared that the angel had lost it or something. Castiel cocked his head and redirected slightly, "You are saying that someone altered our timeline, changed the past?" Gabriel only arched a challenging eyebrow. Castiel shook his head and denied, "That's not possible, brother."

"Not for humans. Mortals. Or demons," Gabriel classified meaningfully.

"Angels," Dean surmised reluctantly.

Castiel gazed at him and supported but begrudgingly, "We are God's messengers, fully empowered through God's word." He turned to Gabriel and questioned, "But why?"

After a thoughtful moment, Gabriel concluded uneasily, "The End Game. Didn't like the result."

"What end game?" Sam asked with concern but the angels ignored him, too intent on their discovery.

"They reset the battle field," Castiel concluded with dread.

"That would take a lot of power. I mean, A LOT of power," Gabriel continued in the same vein. "Which means . . . "

"How many?" Castiel wondered fearfully.

Gabriel glanced away a moment then admitted with resignation, "All of them."

"And I was . . ." Castiel guessed hesitantly.

Gabriel nodded slightly then shrugged, "It's the only answer I can come up with but the only real way to know for sure is to find another angel and question them. However . . ."

"We are both . . ."

"Heaven's most wanted," Dean finished finally, catching on. "Crap."

"Zach would be the best bet but also the most reluctant," Castiel plotted emotionlessly.

"Hold up, damn it," John ordered abruptly in his drill sergeant voice. "What end game? What the hell is going on?" Dean sighed heavily and closed his eyes with his head on the table.

"The Apocalypse," Bobby surmised correctly but with a great deal of dread. "It happened."

"And ended badly," Adam finished reluctantly.

"So what?" Dean lifted his head and questioned Gabriel sarcastically, "The angels grabbed a bunch of DeLoreans and pulled a 'Back To The Future II' on the whole planet?"

"Pretty much, Chachi," Gabriel confirmed cockily then added with relish, "And I'm guessing the fact that you and Cassie here were both thrown in the Pit early meant that you bozos definitely ruined the party."

"Naturally," Dean stated sarcastically. "That's me. The original party pooper." He dropped his head back down on his arm. He mumbled into his arm, "That's just awesome. Freakin' awesome."

"Dean," Cas started but John trumped him, "What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean popped his head up and adamantly denied the very obvious, "I'm fine."

Gabriel scoffed derisively, "Yeah, sure. You were just thrown into Hell and returned in some very weird way that I really don't know for sure is possible but, hey, everyone does that, right?" Dean stared blankly at him without comprehension.

"What are you saying?" Castiel wondered with dread.

Gabriel stared at him flummoxed for a moment then rolled his eyes in exasperation. He snarked, "You really did lose all your marbles down there, didn't you?" Castiel glared at him but he ignored it and guided patiently, "What is the only thing that can steal a soul back from the Pit?"

"Us," Castiel answered easily.

"Who pulled Dean out of the Pit?" Gabriel questioned leadingly.

Castiel cocked his head to the side in an attempt to follow his brother's logic. "No one. He and the others . . . escaped." Castiel's eyes grew wide at the sudden realization. "Oh, Father."

"Eureka," Gabriel praised sarcastically. "We have brain power!"

Castiel's eyes flew to Dean who stared at his friend's horror filled expression and demanded harshly, "What?"

"How?" Castiel started to ask but Gabriel interrupted quickly, "Remember how close he was to dying after the vamps?" Castiel closed his eyes and let his head fall back in disgust at his obviousness.

"What are you saying?" John demanded irritably. "What's wrong with Dean?"

"Geez, isn't it obvious?" Gabriel taunted mockingly. Everyone just glared at him. He sighed heavily then relented sarcastically, "It's amazing that the brain power in this room apparently foiled everything. Look. How many times do I have to say it? Dean was in Hell and therefore, theoretically he was dead, more or less. Tortured and torn apart endlessly." Everyone frowned and quickly glanced at Dean before returning their eyes to Gabriel.

"I know," Dean conceded cockily. "I look fabulous, don't I?" Everyone rolled their eyes except Cas who unwillingly smirked. Then Dean continued to argue, "I know I'm not in top shape but I'm not dead."

Gabriel cocked his eyebrows and questioned pointedly, "When do you feel best or the most like normal?" Dean dared a quick glance at Cas before staring blankly at Gabriel who smirked, not missing the look. "That's right. You didn't come out of the Pit whole, because you weren't supposed to be able to come out at all. Your body is failing because it is still mostly dead. Now, if Cas isn't around to . . . uh, recharge you with his . . . grace, you feel much worse, don't you?" Dean flinched which was enough of an acknowledgement.

Gabriel summarized quickly, "Cas is keeping Dean alive with his Grace but it is not permanent. And if anything happens to Cas . . ." He trailed off leaving the others to fill in the blanks. Dean stared at Cas for a moment then let his head fall onto his arms again.

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and let me know what you think, constructively.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 - Angels

“What do we do then?” Sam wondered uneasily. “How do we save Dean?”

“I disagree,” Castiel argued abruptly. “I haven’t been an angel this whole time and yet Dean survived.”

“What he said?” Dean peeked up at Gabriel with a weary grumble.

 “No, but, at that time, you still had werecat virus in you as your grace slowly cleaned it out of your system. Whether it was through that virus or your grace, you are the one who is keeping Dean alive but it is not permanent,” Gabriel reiterated solemnly. “And you will have to constantly heal him until we can permanently fix it.”

“I repeat, what do we do?” Sam demanded with impatient emphasis but all the humans, except Dean who still had his head resting on the table, just stared at each other blankly. The two angels ignored all of them.

Gabriel stared hard at Castiel who returned the stare for a long moment then Castiel nodded slightly. Finally, Gabriel related hesitantly, “There is a ritual. Even though he’s not in the Pit anymore, it can still be done but it will be painful, very painful.” That announcement effectively silenced everyone for a moment.

Dean turned to Cas and clarified ambivalently, “I do this, and I won’t feel like crap anymore? No more dizziness, exhaustion, vomiting? No more pain?”

Castiel cast a panicked glance toward Gabriel but answered uncertainly, “That is what I understand but, Dean, it will be as painful as some of the Pit.”

“Alistair’s Pit or normal Pit?” 

“Alistair,” Castiel confirmed reluctantly. “Plus some ritual mixed in.” 

Dean paled quickly and swallowed thickly. Finally, after a moment, he nodded slowly then said aloud after clearing his throat but he couldn’t stop the sarcastic ending, “Okay. Let’s do it. I’m happy to be a part of it.”

Castiel blinked and stared at him for a long moment then qualified firmly, “After you eat and rest some. It will give us time to make the changes needed.” Castiel turned to Gabriel and clarified, “You do know that Zachariah is the one who put us both there, don’t you?”

Gabriel nodded then reassured him, “We’ll get to that douchebag later since both of you seem to have the same priority at the moment. For now, we have to put Humpty Dumpty here back together again.”

“Hey!” Dean objected vehemently to the type casting.

Cas rolled his eyes slightly then ordered, “Eat, Dean. Gabriel and I will be back soon.” As soon as he finished talking, Castiel disappeared with Gabriel. 

“And the hits just keep on coming,” Dean observed with dry cynicism in a low voice then, with a heavy sigh, he reached for his plate.

“Dean,” John started hesitantly, “Do you really trust them?”

“With my life obviously,” Dean answered with automatic sarcasm then relented seriously, “Yeah, Dad, I do. Well, not Gabriel so much but, if Cas trusts him, then, yeah, I do.” John gave him a disbelieving stare so Dean added slowly, “Look. There’s no way to describe some of the stuff we went through or that happened down there. Let’s just say Cas proved repeatedly that he would do anything to save me so, yeah, he has my full trust.”

John stared a moment longer then nodded and agreed, “Alright then. So they are really angels?”

Dean smirked slightly as his eyes lost focus a moment in remembrance. “Yeah, wings and all, but apparently they aren’t supposed to show those. Who knew?”

“Then how did you see them?” Sam wondered with characteristic curiosity.

Dean shrugged then admitted reluctantly, “I kept hearing a strange noise whenever Cas showed up or left and finally asked him. He concentrated for a moment and they appeared. That was before we knew what he was.”

“What did they look like?”

“Black,” he described abruptly, trying not to think about them too much because of the feelings they invoked. “With dark blue mixed in the middle.”

“Black?” Bobby questioned, “I thought they were supposed to be white.”

Dean shrugged, “Don’t know. Just know Cas’s are black.”

“Dean,” Sam started, “I really think we should check out this ritual before you go through it. You know, research it and stuff beforehand. Before any possible pain.”

Dean scoffed lightly, “Yeah, right.”

Sam frowned and wondered in confusion, “What?”

“Dude, after all the stuff that was done to me, this ritual will be a piece of cake.”

“Uh, did you miss the part about the pain? Intense pain?” Adam reiterated slowly.

“No,” Dean snapped irritably. “Did you miss the part about the feeling like death warmed over all the damn time? Not being able to eat, or sleep? Oh, yeah, and being in pain most of the time anyway? So, what do I actually have to lose here?”

“Touché,” Adam acknowledged wryly.

“How do you know this won’t backfire on you?” Sam continued, refusing to let go of this.

“Because Cass won’t do it unless there is a good reason and, once again, I trust him. Now, drop it,” Dean ordered tightly.

“While I agree with what you’re saying, Sam,” John allowed, entering the fray with his opinion, “Dean’s right. He doesn’t have a choice, if what they said is true. I am not sure that I trust them but I do know I don’t want Dean to die if something happens to Cass.”

Bobby frowned and wondered, “Wouldn’t this Gabriel be able to help Dean if something happens to Cass?”

“Probably,” Dean allowed in between bites of the cold food that he forced himself to eat. “But I get the feeling he doesn’t want to. I know that Zach wouldn’t, even if his life depended on it. In fact, Cass seems to be the only angel that actually gives a damn about my health. Go figure,” he added sardonically.

“I don’t get it,” Adam admitted. 

“I don’t, either. I’m a joy to be around,” Dean joked cockily.

Adam smirked in response then shook his head. “No, not that. I get that. I’ve gone to bars with you, remember? No, what I don’t get is how you and Cass cause a ‘bad’ apocalypse.”

“Yeah, and what exactly is a ‘bad’ apocalypse anyway?” Dean wondered with extreme confusion. “I mean, is there a good one?”

“Easy,” Bobby grumbled satirically. “Bad means Lucifer won. Hell on Earth. Ya idjit.”

“Whoa, thanks for the thumbnail, Bobby,” Dean snarked sarcastically. “Really vivid, detailed imagery.” He paused a moment then added thoughtfully, remembering his time in the Pit, “Yeah, I get that the Pit wasn’t exactly my type of fun.”

Bobby tried to make a snappy comeback but John weighed in with his concerns, “What the hell did he mean about me showing Dean how to go to Hell? It seemed like he was speaking literally?”

Bobby willingly followed the change in subjects and hypothesized, “Sounds like you made a deal to save Dean then he made a deal for someone else, probably Sam or Adam.”

John humphed with disgust but Dean redirected them. “It doesn’t matter what was supposed to happen at this point. We have to focus on what is happening now and what their damn plan is because, so far, I’m not really enjoying my part in this take.”

“What is happening now?” Adam wondered sarcastically.

“Well, I’m about to go through Hell, again, probably literally, again, just so Cas can pull my ass back out of the Pit this time,” Dean guessed sarcastically. “Hopefully, we’ll get it all out this time. Then we have to figure out what they are trying to change besides keeping me and Cas apart. Maybe the Pit was a way to develop some type of super soldier to combat whatever failed during the End of Times.”

“Good point,” John admitted thoughtfully. “But why would angels and demons be working together on this?” Everyone at the table frowned heavily over that paradox.

“Maybe we should get Jim and Caleb in on this,” Bobby speculated then added, “Rufus,too. He was always good with thinking out of the box.” 

John nodded and agreed, “Yeah. Let’s make some calls.”

Ruffled feathers sounded in the room and Dean looked up to see both angels flanking him. Castiel intoned solemnly, “Everything is ready.”

Dean sighed heavily and told his family as he stood, “See you guys on the other side.” As soon as he finished his goodbye, he and the angels disappeared. Dean’s family all sighed heavily and silently prayed for a successful ritual.

*********************

Hours later, John and Bobby had set up a meeting with several hunters that they trusted. The meeting would take place in two days at the Roadhouse, a hunters’ bar run by Ellen Harvelle, widow of hunter Bill Harvelle. Now they were just waiting for word on Dean. 

In the meantime, they all researched everything that Bobby had in his library and anything they could find on the internet on angels. Actually Adam and Sam mainly searched the internet while the older hunters stuck to the books. The day and night passed with agonizing slowness.

Around midnight, John slammed his book shut and snapped irritably, unable to hide his concern anymore, “How long is that damn ritual supposed to take?”

”How the hell should we know since they didn’t give us any information about it? And you just let them do it,” Sam snapped back insultingly, more than willing to have this fight so that both of them could let off steam.

“And just how the hell was I supposed to stop them?” John snarled, taking the bait and quickly rising from his chair to storm over to where Sam was also standing up quickly. “Huh, Sam? Exactly how do you fight an angel? Have you discovered that in your research? Because I sure haven’t. Even Dean, who apparently knows them the best, says nothing can hurt them so exactly how was I supposed to fight them?”

“Oh, please,” Gabriel jokingly inserted. “I’m a lover, not a fighter. Besides, all we need is love. John Lennon. Too bad he had to marry that . . . Oh, look, an angel.”

Wings flapped and another angel entered the study. The new angel surveyed the room quickly before he stated with a weak British accent, “Oh, Gabriel. Long time, no see. What’s it been? Two? Three millennia? Prodigal son ready to return yet?”

“Balthy,” Gabriel greeted tauntingly with a huge smile then he smirked at the offense the other angel took over the nickname. “Sorry, Cassie’s busy at the moment. Something I can help you with?”

Balthazar strolled slowly around the room, touching dust and grimacing over the obvious lower class establishment. He shrugged as he offered willingly, “Well, if you are still hooked in to us, you heard what we heard so you know what is going on, only it isn’t going on, is it?”

Sam blinked a couple of times as he tried to decipher what exactly had just been said. He glanced at the others and saw they were in the same boat. He frowned and saw that Gabriel had followed along perfectly.

Gabriel kept his smirk as he answered, “That’s not really my problem anymore. Didn’t you get the memo? Didn’t one of my girls call you? I know for sure that flowers went to someone. A lot of someones.” He snapped his fingers and a very shapely, brunette model appeared in red lingerie, only to be snapped back out of existence by Balthazar. 

“Cut the crap for a change, Gabe,” Balthazar snarled slightly. “You left a very obvious trail and, if you don’t want a very large family reunion, you need to vacate immediately. I’ll take care of the collateral.” His assessing eyes passed over each human in kind.

“I have a better idea,” Gabriel started snarkily. 

“Gabe, we don’t have the time,” Balthazar insisted impatiently. 

“Make the time,” Gabriel ordered powerfully and he obviously grabbed Balthazar’s attention with it. “Now, listen carefully. You are going to help me eliminate the trail then you and I are going to have a very long talk. Capiche?”

Balthazar hesitated, assessing the humans again, before staring into Gabriel’s eyes to verify his intent. After a long tense moment, he shrugged and suggested nonchalantly, “Let’s get this over with then. It better not come back to bite me in the ass or we will have yet another issue. Brother .” Gabriel nodded in understanding then both angels disappeared.

“What the hell?” John demanded irately, staring at Bobby.

“Like I know,” Bobby growled back. “You know very well that I’m just as much in the dark as the rest of you. Now quit biting everyone’s head off and being an ass, will you? We are all worried about Dean. You bitching and griping isn’t helping anything.”

Adam closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to Castiel. Seconds later, Castiel appeared and asked wearily, “Yes?”

Adam smiled and started to ask a question but John beat him to it. “Where the hell have you been? Where’s Dean?”

Castiel stared at John for a long moment before he answered vaguely, “I will return shortly.” Castiel disappeared and John cussed a blue streak in anger.

Bobby and Adam rolled their eyes in exasperation. Adam rose and announced to everyone in general, “I’m getting a beer.” 

“Hey, grab me one, too,” Sam ordered.

“I’m not your slave,” Adam snapped irritably. “Get it yourself.” 

“Jerk,” Sam insulted hotly.

“Bitch,” Adam countered smugly.

Adam stomped into the kitchen in a bad mood. He couldn’t handle the waiting, either, but Sam and his dad’s bickering made things worse. He would never be able to fathom how Dean put up with it on a daily basis for so very many years.

He grabbed a beer and leaned against the cabinet, drinking it in a moment of peace. He heard John and Sam still arguing in the study and expected Bobby to join him soon. He knew their uncle couldn’t stand the fighting any more than the rest of them. On the other hand, Bobby did tend to stay in those situations just to make sure they didn’t escalate.

He was about to head back into the study when he heard a noise that made him think that something was in the basement. He set his beer down and grabbed a nearby salt container then crept toward the stairs. He glanced down them but didn’t see anything so he carefully made his way down the stairs. 

At the bottom of the stairs, his eyes scanned the room thoroughly and found an iron door in the wall on the right side of the room. He crept towards the door and heard voices on the other side which soon turned into low pained moans. He glimpsed the peep hole and moved it quietly to peek in. What he saw inside froze him for a second. Unfortunately, a second was all it took for the worst to happen.

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Chapter Text

Oh, yeah, everything is unbeta'd. All my mistakes are my own.  

Disclaimer: Kripke owns all Supernatural characters. I'm only borrowing them. 

Overall Warnings: Rated T for swearing and some gore. 

Pairings: Dean/Cas, past Cas/Balthazar if you want to read it that way.

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Chapter 18 – Zachariah

Dean sighed with reluctant weariness and slowly sat up, fully dressed thankfully, in his panic room bed. Even though he was finally all back together from the Pit, the two angels had made very certain of that, he still felt like he’d been run over by a huge Mack truck. He sincerely hoped that this feeling was related to what he had just gone through and not a preview of his life to come. 

Cass left to answer Adam’s call but Dean wasn’t quite up to the family inquisition just yet. He’d been briefed by Cass as to what to expect over the next couple of hours but Dean wasn’t the patient type so he wasn’t about to put up with the role he’d been assigned. He’d always hated being left behind, no matter how logical it might be. But this time, not only had he been left behind, he’d also been locked in this room, like some fairy tale princess, a damsel in distress. And, if that didn’t irritate him endlessly, as well as emasculate him, he didn’t know what would. 

 Unwilling to put up with this situation for even a moment longer, he pulled out the summoning book from under the bed. He winced at the burning pain on the corner of his shoulder and quickly performed the ritual, using a different angel name within the summoning this time. When he was finished, he waited silently, barely breathing, and then he heard the rustle of feathers behind him. Unfortunately, it was too far behind him. In for a penny, in for a pound, he casually turned and faced one of his worst Pit nightmares.

The balding, middle-aged man in the black business suit, white dress shirt, and yellow tie smiled widely and insulted smugly, “I always knew you were a world class moron but this level of idiocy insults even the most idiotic of the pathetic primates that you evolved from. Not that it matters much now. Now that I have you right where I want you.”

“Oh, really?” Dean taunted cockily with an arched eyebrow for emphasis, hiding how truly terrified he was at facing this particular torturer. He was one of the worst, second only to Alistair. After all, Alistair simply embraced his truly demonic nature with an undeniable eloquence but Zach, here . . . Zach was . . . petty on top of it all the other revenge crap. 

Unable to turn back now, Dean continued with cocky bravery, “’Cuz from where I stand, you don’t have jack.”

Zachariah smirked mockingly and taunted back, “Like I’m going to willingly step into that ring of holy oil that you didn’t even attempt to disguise. You are the lesser, unintelligent lifeform here, not I. It would take much more that a disgustingly, annoying bacterium like you to even be in the galaxy of my immense intelligence.”

Suddenly, Zachariah disappeared then reappeared behind Dean and tossed Dean into the nearest wall. Dean let out a pained moan as his head collided with the salt-coated iron wall. His vision dimmed so he shook his head slightly to clear it. Another pained moan escaped before he actually felt the kick to his ribs. He groaned more while pain exploded in his rib cage. He was sure that at least three ribs cracked under the pressure.

A steel-griped, pudgy hand grabbed his left shoulder, the one that had been burning, and yanked him upright, pulling his shoulder completely out of the socket. A pained shout eluded Dean’s failing control when his back slammed into the wall behind him and he found himself staring dazedly into Zachariah’s smug, fat face. He snarled defiantly, “Just go ahead and kill me, Butterball. Anything would be better than staring at your smug, fat face.”

“Kill you? Oh, no, I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to rip you a buttload of cosmic new ones until you agree to do whatever I say, you slackjawed hick,” Zachariah stated angrily.

The panic room door opened and Adam courageously barged in with a gun pointed at Zachariah. Adam ordered tightly, “Let him go.”

Zachariah smirked and moved his hand slightly. Adam felt to the floor with a pained moan then vomited up blood. Dean commanded harshly, “Stop that, asshat. He has nothing to do with this.”

“Why should I?” Zachariah asked rhetorically then prodded with menace, “What are you willing to do for me in return? Huh? Would you, like, say, sell your soul? To say . . . save your baby brother?”

Dean stared at Zachariah knowingly. He’s just gotten one clue about what went wrong last time. He narrowed his eyes and clarified confidently, “Is that what this was about? Selling my soul? Why? I was already in Hell. Twice. If it didn’t take either of those times, why would it . .  . oh, right. Selling my soul. I had to be willing, free will and all that crap.”

Zachariah grimaced slightly while, in the background, Adam continued to vomit blood. “Well? Shall we up the damage? I sense several other family members above us. I’m sure one of them will mean more than Castiel did so what is your answer, you little gel-wearing maggot?”

Dean smirked weakly, “Sounds like I don’t have much of a choice. And I don’t do gel. My hair is just naturally awesome.” He secretly slipped the angel blade Cass had given him out of his sleeve and into his hand. Luckily, it was his unhurt arm that was attached to said hand. “So what am I supposed to do in Hell that is so very important, huh?”

“Like I’d tell you,” Zachariah scoffed derisively. “Maggoty worms like you have no business sticking your pug noses where they don’t belong. No. These plans aren’t in any cosmos close to the galaxy of your unimportance.”

“Oh, come on,” Dean cajoled disrespectfully. “Don’t you want me to make sure I get it right so that we don’t have to keep doing this, over and over? I mean, how many times are you dicks allowed to reset the stage? Can’t be indefinite. I’d want to be sure if I was you.”

Zachariah paused and questioned hesitantly, “How did you know . . . no, you can’t . . .”

“Scares, you don’t it?” Dean countered mockingly. “It should, you know.”

“Nothing you could ever possibly do could even remotely scare me, you insignificant fungus on a worm’s ass,” Zachariah dismissed arrogantly. 

“Really?” Dean verified nonchalantly before adding with intense menace. “Too bad. Because I’m going to be the one who kills you.”

“Yeah, right,” Zachariah scoffed humorously. “Only an angel can kill another angel. You’re only a human, Dean. And not much of one, you pathetic, simpering wad of insecurity and self-hate.” 

“So why even bother with me then?” Dean prodded relentlessly, needing the information.

“We all have our roles to play, even you. And play it you will,” Zachariah promised menacingly. “One way or another.” 

“Maybe,” Dean allowed vaguely. “On the other hand, go screw yourself. The answer is NO! ” With that, Dean thrusted the angel sword up under Zach’s chin and through his brain. 

Intense white light shown through Zach’s eyes and mouth as the angel and his grace slowly died. Dean stared into Zach’s eyes the entire time so that Zach could watch himself, reflected in Dean’s eyes, combust at the hands of such a pathetic, insignificant human. Light intensified as well as a loud ringing of Zach’s true voice sounded then it all exploded with the intensity of a sonic boom. Finally, it all disappeared instantly. 

Zach’s meat suit fell to the ground, dead. Dean flew back against the wall then slid down while moaning slightly and grimacing in pain. Adam whimpered in kind then dry heaved as the rustle of wings was heard again. Dean groaned painfully and questioned with rhetoric sarcastic dread, “Now what?”

“Dean!” Cas called out with concern as he surveyed the scene. He instantly spotted his friend, leaning against the wall wearily. He immediately hurried over to check on his troublesome friend. 

Meanwhile, Gabriel also assessed the scene but more dispassionately then Cas had and ordered Balthazar, “Go heal knucklehead over there. I got knucklehead junior here.” Gabriel moved swiftly to Adam and healed him instantly with a touch then turned to face the men stampeding into the room.

Balthazar walked over to where Castiel was scolding Dean. “You reckless fool,” Castiel insulted as he assessed the damage. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“What do you mean?” Dean replied innocently while he attempted to hide all the pain he was in. Unfortunately, he didn’t have it in him at the moment to pull it off. He, and his body, had just been through too much in the past few days. Or was it hours? He really wasn’t sure at the moment. He also wasn’t real sure time actually mattered at the moment.

“Dean,” Castiel snapped irritably. “Don’t. Please do not insult my intelligence. I see the residue from the ritual. I repeat, what the hell were you thinking?”

Balthazar studied the two for a moment as Dean snarled back aggressively, “I thinking that I was keeping your number one torturer off your ass might be a good idea. That’s what I was thinking of, you ungrateful dick. See if I ever give a crap about you again. Ever .”

Cas smirked knowingly at the obvious lie and asked clinically, “What’s the damage?”

Dean exhaled sharply at the end of the confrontation then groaned at the intense pain coursing through him as a result. He panted through the pain then gritted out through pain clenched teeth, “About three smashed ribs and a very, very dislocated left shoulder.”

“Don’t forget your concussion,” Adam reminded him while he stood up easily after being healed by Gabriel. “You know, from when he threw you head first into the iron wall. I’m sure your back’s pretty bruised up, too.”

“Thanks, House,” Dean snarked sarcastically, once again hating that his health was less than perfect. He growled out menacingly, “You wanna shuddup now?” Adam threw up his hands in frustrated surrender and looked away.

“What the hell happened in here?” John demanded impatiently then pointed out the dead body in the room. “And who is that?” Dean rolled his eyes then closed them while trying to catch his breath against the pain. John, on the other hand, had a hard time looking away from the residue surrounding the body in a blackened image of massive wings.

“Balthazar,” Castiel prodded, having overheard Gabriel’s earlier order. Cas knew, just like Gabriel knew, that he could not heal Dean so soon after rescuing Dean from the Pit. All of his energies had gone into that and putting Dean’s soul back in his body correctly. Luckily, he hadn’t had to heal the body as well.

“Are you sure, Cassie?” Balthazar verified snarkily. “I mean, really sure? I mean, yeah, he’s pretty and all. Really delicate features, too, but he really seems more trouble than he’s worth. Maybe making him heal naturally will keep him from doing something this stupid again. If nothing else, at least, it will keep him in bed and out of the way.”

“Hasn’t worked so far,” a chorus of voices snarked sarcastically.

“What they said,” Dean breathed shallowly. “And thanks a lot, you bunch of Brutuses.”

“Besides, he never stays down long enough to heal and we have a lot to do,” Castiel reinforced disgustedly. Balthazar shrugged easily then touched a finger to Dean’s forehead. 

Dean felt the briefest healing warmth fill him and felt sudden pain sear throughout his body as it started to convulse. His ribs started to realign themselves but that was the most that happened before Balthazar yanked his hand away from Dean. Castiel shouted out as soon as the convulsions started. 

By then it was redundant because Balthazar had already pulled away, shaking his head. He looked Castiel in the eyes and stated with a slightly stunned voice, “I can’t heal him. He’s rejecting my gra- . . . Oh, Father, what the hell did you do, Cassie?”

Castiel blinked in confusion but turned back toward his friend who was just now blinking back to awareness. Dean slurred and panted slightly, “Okay. Let’s never do that again. From now on, only Cas heals me. Plus, he’s better at it.” 

To say that it hadn’t felt as good as when Cass healed him would be a gross understatement. In fact, Dean wasn’t actually sure that he’d been healed at all but it hurt him a lot less when Cas did it. Dean wondered if that was because of the connection that he had with Cas, or if it was something else. But, overall, the other angel had tried to heal him so he nodded thanks to the reluctant angel then questioned them with hoarse briskness, “Did you all have enough time to get rid of it?”

“Yes,” Cas intoned formally. “The trail has been remade, leading in a totally different direction. We have also protected this house from both, Heaven and Hell. You need to rest now.”

“Screw that, Cas,” Dean argued forcefully. He saw Cas’ s face darken in response and knew that he was about to have a huge fight on his hands. He and Cas both were gearing up for a fight when Sam interrupted with his mind clearly on something else.

“Are those wings?” Sam asked with curious disbelief, unable to quit staring at them.

“No.” Gabriel drew out slowly then quickly adlibbed philosophically, “They are an expressionist’s drawing illiterating an inability to have the freedom in life-“

Dean snarked under his breath, “Of life, you mean.” Cas and Balty smirked in amusement with Dean which was a much better look than the amazed confusion that had clouded their faces at the beginning of Gabriel’s explanation.

Gabriel continued, ignoring the Three Stooges by the wall, “that he so desperately desires. What do you think?”

“Uh?” Sam stalled uncertainly, desperately trying to sort through the explanation offered. Adam face palmed his forehead, embarrassed to be related.

“I think you are a moron,” Balty offered easily.

“I cannot believe that I couldn’t detect even a hint of sarcasm anywhere in that entire explanation,” Cas admitted reluctantly.

Dean scoffed with amusement then quoted Bill Engvall to Sam, “’Here’s your sign.’”

“What?” Sam prodded, still not understanding. 

Dean and Adam exchanged sympathetic looks with each other and simultaneous announced, “We are so not related.”

John sighed heavily and lightly slapped Sam on the back of the head while Bobby finally grumbled out the truth with obvious disgust, “Of course, they are wings, you damn idgit. How does everyone think you’re so smart?”

“Oh, I like him,” Balty and Gabriel admitted simultaneously.

“Is that Zachariah?” John verified briskly, returning everyone back to the subject at hand.

“Yep,” Dean admitted proudly. “One down. Only about three million to go.”

“Which is why you need to rest now,” Cas strongly suggested. “You just got back from Hell. You need to regain strength.”

“Oh, please,” Dean scoffed dismissively. “You healed me from that and this guy healed me up from Zachariah. I’m good. Besides, Zach mentioned something.”

“What?” 

“He not only needs me in Hell, he needs me there willingly . That, in addition to what he told Cas, means that apparently the first time around I started something while I was down there,” Dean concluded easily.

Balthazar and Gabriel exchanged sharp looks before Balthazar cautioned hesitantly, “I think it’s time that you told me exactly what I’ve gotten myself into, brother.”

Gabriel shrugged and snapped his fingers, making Zach and his residue disappear, then he snapped them again and they were all in Bobby’s study. Cas pushed Dean to fall back onto the couch while Bobby and John settled themselves around the desk. Cas sat down next to Dean and Adam sat on the other arm rest of the couch. Sam lowered his huge frame into a chair in front of the desk while Gabriel leaned against the door frame. Balthazar eyed the liquor but found nothing good enough to try.

“What? We couldn’t go to a five star hotel with a full stocked bar?” Balthazar snarked irritably.

“Father, you always did whine,” Gabriel complained but snapped his fingers and a bottle appeared in Balty’s hand. 

Balty eyed the label then smiled and proceeded to open the bottle. As he poured drinks, he prodded nonchalantly, “Please begin this riveting story.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and snorted impatiently, “Save the sarcasm, Balty. You just come off prissy. You always did. And that fake British accent is atrocious.” 

Balty only shrugged so Gabriel continued, “Fine. Bottom line, we are on the books for the second, second coming.” Balthazar waved and a glass half-filled with good whiskey appeared in everyone’s hand.

Balthazar turned while taking a drink then paused with his hand halfway to his mouth. He blinked then clarified hesitantly, “Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Gabriel snapped irritably. 

“I . . . I, well, of course, I heard, but,” Balthazar stammered staunchly, “how?”

“Know the feeling,” Gabriel sympathized slightly. “Here I was, enjoying being on my own, having my own gig, when these chuckleheads come along and try to kill me. Only one of them is so covered in grace that I have to wonder what the hell is going on. Then I find out that Cas here has been stuck in some type of Hell for, at least, the last two earth years. Probably since he dropped out of Heaven.”

“Wait,” Balthazar interrupted quickly. “You mean, he didn’t run away? He didn’t turn traitor? Why didn’t you come to me for help, Castiel? You know I was there for you. I’ve always-”

“No, I didn’t know,” Castiel cut him off quickly, feeling Dean tense slightly beside him.

Gabriel ignored the hint and reminisced dreamily, “Oh, that’s right, that’s right. You and Cassie here had a thing a millennia or so ago. Everyone thought you were joined at the hip and”

“Gabriel,” Castiel bit out harshly as he glared at him. He shifted a quick glance at Dean when he felt Dean tense beside him. Balthazar casually drank his whiskey leaning against a sidebar while he surveyed the interaction between Cas and Dean.

“Remember how you two used to walk around holding hands and . . .,” Gabriel continued wickedly, enjoying the tension in Dean’s posture.

“Shut up or I will shut you up,” Castiel bit out furiously then turned to Dean and growled low in his throat. He snapped, “How are you doing that?” Dean didn’t react to the question so he called sharply, “Dean!”

“What?” Dean snapped right back at him as he turned to glare. “Why the hell are you taking it out on me when he’s the one riling you up? I’m NOT your whipping boy, Cas!”

Cas frowned heavily and surmised incredulously, “The link’s not there, is it?”

Dean paused and blinked then searched his mind and tried to reach out psychically for a long moment. Finally he shook his head. “I don’t sense you anymore. Why? What were you -”

“Gabriel,” Cas prodded quickly, ignoring Dean’s question.

“The alpha link?” Gabriel clarified. Castiel nodded and Gabriel shrugged. “Honestly didn’t think about it but it makes sense.”

“What alpha link?” Balthazar wondered curiously.

“What makes sense?” Dean questioned with disbelief.

“Well, he’s not a were anymore and you died, again,” Gabriel explained easily, ignoring the surprised shouts of family. “Cas brought you back and put you back together the way you were at the beginning of the ritual. That could have easily severed the link since he’s no longer an alpha. Well, at least, not in the were way.” 

“When was Cassie a were?” Balthazar asked with concern.

“When Zach had him thrown into the Pit, he collared him with grace containing sigils that effectively cut off his grace and memory. A werecat bit him during a fight. Later, he bit Dean in a different fight,” Gabriel explained succinctly.

“So what they were . . . mated?” Balthazar exclaimed with disgusted outrage. “Zach mated my fiancé to another?”

“Fiance?” Dean clarified hoarsely. 

“Dean,” Castiel started, only to be interrupted.

“Oh, sure, fine, comfort him,” Balthazar scoffed with hurt disbelief. “Never mind the one you were promised to.”

“I never promised anyone anything,” Castiel denied vehemently. 

“Whatever,” Dean dismissed easily. “So not the topic of this conversation. Why don’t you two save your gay lovers’ spat for later when we don’t have an apocalypse to stop?”

Surprisingly, Balthazar was the first one to break the tense silence that followed. “So, he’s the one who breaks the first seal and my guess is that Cassie was the one who originally saved him.”

Gabriel nodded and admitted, “Makes sense. I had guessed the same but how did they screw it up because based on how much hate Zach had for both of them they really screwed it up?” 

“What’s the first seal? What the heck is a seal period?” Dean wondered uncertainly, not wanting to show his fear at the answer. “I’m guessing that’s not a show at SeaWorld.”

“Think of seals as locks on a door,” Cas explained slowly.

“Okay,” Dean followed along. “Last one opens and?”

“Lucifer walks free,” Balthazar finished solemnly.

“So what was the first lock?” Sam prodded curiously.

“’And it is written that the first seal shall be when a righteous man spills blood in Hell, as he breaks, so shall it break,’” Balthazar quoted religiously. Everyone stared at him in shocked confusion.

“Spills blood? As in torture? Torture? I tortured people? In Hell?” Dean exclaimed with disbelief, feeling slightly nauseous at the thought.

Unfortunately, Castiel remembered softly, “The Pit. The . . . Dean, they . . . the trials . . .”

“I remember,” Dean cut him off through gritted teeth, trying to hold in his emotions, and bile. “I was there. It doesn’t need to be said aloud, Cas. EVER .”

“But . . . you . . . you never, they couldn’t . . . couldn’t make . . .”

“Not this time, no,” Dean allowed weakly then added reluctantly in a soft, almost whisper, “But then you weren’t in there with me the first time around. Were you?” He turned to the other two angels and verified hoarsely, “I broke in Hell the first time around, didn’t I? I tortured souls, didn’t I?”

Gabriel nodded solemnly then amended uneasily, “Yeah, that seems the most likely answer.”

“That great. That’s just great,” Dean snorted in disbelief and felt his stomach clench violently at the knowledge then he took a huge shot from his glass, his first taste of alcohol since before the Pit. He so needed this. He also needed this day to end, like yesterday. 

He also so needed to get wasted, like over two years ago. He swallowed thickly and heard Castiel growl at him again but he didn’t care. He’d had enough for one day. He had actually reached his limit, yet another limit that he didn’t know he had.

Apparently his stomach was in total agreement with him. It clenched even tighter and turned violently at the initial hit of alcohol. It shut down all incoming operations and reversed in less than thirty seconds. A sweat broke out on his forehead and he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

Dean slammed down his glass on the coffee table and charged past everyone on the way to the bathroom down the hall. He heard his name called out behind him by several people but he didn’t have time to stop. He made it to the room and yanked the door shut behind him. His knees slid the last few inches to the opened toilet and his head was bent over it almost a second too late. 

Too late, he also discovered the snooty angel hadn’t healed his ribs. Or shoulder. Or anything. Pain so intense rolled through his head and body. He almost blacked out from the pain and revulsion over what he’d become, both times. He’d done it all. He’d brought the world to an end. He’d caused Cas, his best friend to be stuck in that godforsaken place. He’d . . .

He deserved all this. All this pain. Every bit of it. . .

Back in the room, John stared at Cas and demanded irately, “What the hell did you do to him? I thought the ritual was supposed to fix him.” He was so tired of seeing Dean suffer.

Cas replied unconcerned, “It is. He should start to feel better soon as he’s rested up. He is still worn down and not in any condition to summon Zachariah, much less fight him.”

“He didn’t fight him,” Adam clarified sarcastically. “He let Zachariah beat him up so that Dean could get close enough to kill him.”

“Which is also something he wasn’t in any condition to do,” Castiel grumbled irately. “The stubborn moron.”

“Uh, should someone check on him?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“No,” Castiel growled adamantly. “It will either make him vomit more or he will bitch and complain while he holds it in then his stomach will expel with even more force, possibly hurting him worse in the process.”

John and Bobby exchanged a knowing glance then John arched an eyebrow in appreciation of Castiel’s concern and knowledge of his son. “You know him really well. What do you suggest?”

“Let him finish and ignore it when he comes back. I will take care of it later,” Cas informed them firmly. “Making an issue of it now will only make it worse.” Everyone eyed Cas speculatively but he knew they were really assessing his and Dean’s relationship and he couldn’t care less at the moment what they were thinking.

Balthazar surmised concisely, “So we are on the second run of the apocalypse and we think that Zach took out the two biggest trouble makers first. But if your boy broke the first time, it stands to reason that they would try to break him a second time. You do know if he does break, he needs to be in play for the final so we need to figure out what went wrong the first time around?”

“Why does he still need to be in play?” John wondered.

“Because ‘the one who starts it, is the only one who can finish it’,” Balthazar snapped out the quote quickly then turned back to Gabriel. “How did he screw it up?” Gabriel shrugged hopelessly.

Castiel easily concluded, “He refused to say, ‘Yes’. He didn’t play his part.”

Gabriel frowned and hypothesized, “No, because then there wouldn’t have been an end game. He would have had to . . .”

“Unless there was another,” Castiel countered, staring at Adam. “It’s not perfect but it could work.”

“What makes you so sure that he said no?” Gabriel wondered curiously.

“He never once said yes in the Pit, no matter what they did to him, or me,” Castiel explained vaguely. “We knew they were trying to break us. We also had both died several times only to be brought back. So we made a pact to not let them use each of us against the other. That’s why I was in the Pit,” he concluded finally. “Somehow, I helped him fight his destiny.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” John snapped irritably, sick and tired of not knowing what was going on. 

Castiel glanced at him but focused on Dean’s pale face as he leaned against the door frame on the other side. He stared at him meaningfully, concern obvious in his eyes. Dean met his glance for the briefest second and nodded quickly then motioned toward the kitchen with a slight head movement.

Castiel rose and walked into the kitchen as Dean walked back into the room and sat back in his place. He had just settled when Cas returned with an open can of ginger ale and crackers for Dean. He handed them to him and sat back down beside Dean. Dean took a hesitant sip and set the crackers in his lap.

Meanwhile, Gabriel shook his head and argued, “That doesn’t make any sense. If they knew Dean wouldn’t play his part, why didn’t they just kill him? Especially if they already had a backup plan. Why not just eliminate the problem? That’s the way it normally works, isn’t it?”

“If that’s true, why not kill me as well?” Castiel continued in the same vein. 

“You still had a part to play,” Balthazar reiterated firmly, “And you just did it again so you might want to watch yourself because your part in all this is over. You are now expendable if they are planning on breaking your boy toy here.”

“Not yet, he’s not,” Gabriel continued to argue. “Because Dean hasn’t broken in Hell yet so all the seals are still intact which means there is no end game yet.”

“Zach was still trying to get me back there,” Dean admitted hoarsely as he drank some more of his ginger ale then ate a cracker. “So, if I still need to go there, Cass still needs to pull my ass out.”

“Only you are being so difficult that they may move on from you on this as well, which means most of your family could be sent in your place,” Gabriel hypothesized.

“So I just sell my soul and my family’s safe,” Dean concluded emotionlessly. “And then I never break.” 

With an equal lack of emotion, Castiel lightly reached over and touched Dean’s forehead. Dean’s head fell back bonelessly and Castiel easily caught the falling can from Dean’s lax hand. He looked at his friend’s sleep relaxed face then turned to glare harshly at his older brother.

“Do. Not. Say. Such. Things. In. Front. Of. Him,” Castiel bit out with extremely forceful ire. “He is not able to make logical decisions when his family is threatened.”

“You do know that most couples with trust issues don’t last long,” Gabriel observed laconically.

“We are not a, ‘couple’. And, considering he was just trying to figure out where the nearest crossroad was, we wouldn’t be a couple for long either way,” Castiel replied dryly.

“I thought your link was gone,” Balthazar corrected guardedly.

“It is. It doesn’t change how well we know each other now. You both know one earth month is equal to about ten years in Hell. He was down there with me for almost two hundred years,” Castiel reminded him.

“I’ve known you much longer, Cassie, and you never –“

“You’ve known me as an angel, Balthazar. In the Pit, I was mostly human, with the entire ranger of human emotions inside me, and I was tortured daily but not nearly as much as he was. He had both sides after him. I only had Zach after me,” Castiel pointed out emotionlessly. “Things were always much worse for him.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and insisted vehemently, “We were never in that kind of situation, Balthazar.”

“Boy, is that the truth,” Gabriel snarked lightly but his mind was reviewing all the images he’d received from Cass previously. He knew that he would have to eventually talk with Balthazar about some things. He felt bad now that he had brought up their past relationship to torment Dean because it appeared that it was tormenting Castiel more than anyone else.

“So what’s the plan?” Bobby hinted deliberately, bringing everything back on topic.

“For the moment, everyone is homebound, including us,” Balthazar started easily.

“What? Why?” Sam demanded harshly.

“Because, chucklehead,” Gabriel growled impatiently, “in case, you weren’t listening, both sides, Heaven and Hell, want your brother back in Hell so that they can break him in ways that you don’t even want to imagine and start the apocalypse. If they cannot get him, they will take another Winchester because it’s in your family bloodline to play this role. Also, your brother, father and everyone else are more than willing to sacrifice themselves for the other but we need to keep all of you topside which at this point in time means house arrest.”

“For how long, though?” Adam wondered.

“Until we come up with a different plan, obviously,” Gabriel mocked, “because I so have many, many, much, much better things, and people, to do.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side and stated firmly, “We need Chuck.”

“Why?” 

“He was one of the scientists in the Pit. I believe he might have important information that he might not be aware of,” Castiel explained easily.

“Also, we have a hunters’ meeting tomorrow,” Bobby offered up to the angels. “I could go but. . .”

“No, you are considered family by Dean and can easily be used to lure him out,” Castiel argued then amended wearily. “Let me and my brothers confer then we will all sleep on it before making more plans. There could be a solution that we do not see right now.”

“You also need to recharge, Cassie,” Balthazar observed cautiously.

“I will, after I put Dean in bed and we all talk. In the morning, we will all come up with a plan,” Castiel stated stubbornly. 

Gabriel shook his head and ordered firmly, “You will take your human to bed then go to bed yourself. I can catch Balty up on everything the same way that you caught me up. He will need time to process as I did and we can get Chuck here to talk to as well. So take the boy and go to sleep. I don’t want to see either one of you before breakfast. Capiche?”

Castiel smirked slightly and clarified mockingly, “Is that an order, brother?”

“Yes,” Gabriel answered cockily with a huge smirk. “You got a problem with that, lil’ bro.”

Castiel smirked wider and acknowledged wryly, “Actually, I do. It seems as though my friend’s characteristics are rubbing off on me. He doesn’t like orders either. But I will do as you have advised this one time. For old times’ sake.” With that, Castiel gripped Dean’s hand and they both disappeared from the study.

“I’ll never get used to that,” John grumbled irritably. Gabriel smirked mockingly then disappeared with Balthazar the same way. John threw up his hands in exasperation while the others looked on in amusement.

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Any thoughts on how they will get out of this? What will Chuck know? Anything?

This is the last pre-written chapter so the others will take a little longer to upload but I am shooting for at least once a week minimum.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and let me know what you think, constructively. ☺

Chapter Text

Oh, yeah, everything is unbeta'd. All my mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: Kripke owns all Supernatural characters. I'm only borrowing them.

Overall Warnings:  Rated T  for swearing and some gore.

No pairings at this time.

Sorry for the delay. Life and a severe case of writer's block happened. I hope this chapter is as good as the others since I had to force it out through the block. Please let me know if it's not.

- SPN - SPN -

Chapter 19 – Chuck

Dean groaned painfully at the impact of the bed on his sore back. He slowly opened his eyes to see the panic room ceiling above him. At least, he knew where he was now. He heard movement beside him so he turned his head to face it and found his friend staring back at him.

"What is it, Dean?" Castiel questioned with a concern frown.

Dean sighed and reluctantly admitted, "No offense, Cas, but your fine feathered boyfriend cannot heal worth crap."

Castiel's frown deepened as he ignored the dig and prodded curiously, "What is still injured?"

"Everything," Dean grumbled irritably but allowed. "I mean I think he healed my ribs a bit but that's all. And that hurt almost as bad as the actual injury."

"He did say something about . . ." Cas mumbled to himself as he remembered but then he shook off the memory so that he could help Dean now. "Okay. So shoulder has to be set. Right? Are you up for that?"

"Yeah. Sure . . . why not," Dean agreed then griped tightly under his breath before he trailed off softly muttering to himself. All the while, he slowly sat up then carefully stood. "On three. Yea?" Dean verified uneasily as he moved into position using a nearby chair to lean over and brace himself.

Cas smirked slightly at Dean's petulant actions before he grew serious and focused on the job at hand. He nodded in answer to Dean's questions then added the verbal confirmation, "On three." He finally moved into position behind and slightly to the side of Dean.

Dean scoffed with cynical distrust as he felt Cas's hands position themselves on his battered body, "Bullshit. You are going to do what you always do and . . . son of a bitch!" Dean growled harshly through gritted teeth as his shoulder was expertly forced into position unexpectedly. He shoved away abruptly from Cas and the chair in reaction to the agonizing pain. He immediately paced through the lessening waves of pain as he gripped and supported his abused arm. He snarled irately, "I said, 'three,' damnit! Three! You didn't even count! Son of a bitch!"

"You were already tensing up," Cas explained with rote patience. "Delay would have caused you even more pain. You know that. Now lay down. I will see what else I can do."

"Cas," Dean argued wearily but did what his friend ordered anyway. He knew that there wasn't anything he could say or do to stop his friend at this point. Besides, he was weak and felt like crap warmed over so his heart wasn't really in this argument. He really wished that he had some of that werecat healing back right about now. That had really spoiled him.

Reminding himself that Cas was no longer that that creature but something entirely different and that Cas had already been drained from earlier, Dean stubbornly continued his normal objections that wouldn't amount to anything as he sagged back down on the bed, "Just . . . don't, okay? Let's just rest for the night then you can check me out in the morning. I know you're still drained from earlier and we both can use the rest."

Castiel sat down beside his friend and disagreed cautiously, "I am not going to attempt everything but I can do something to make your rest more comfortable. Just . . ." He paused briefly, searching for the right words but he still couldn't figure out what they were. He vaguely knew what he needed from Dean for this to work but had no idea how to explain it to his friend. He shook his head slightly then sighed with frustration, "Just . . . just don't fight me, Dean. You have to let me in. Relax your guard and let me in or . . . Or it will hurt me."

"Don't I always?" Dean countered automatically with weary confusion.

"No, you don't. You fight me. Fight me a lot, actually. Especially when you are badly hurt or don't want me to heal you for whatever irrational reason enters your mind at any given point in time," Castiel informed him tightly. "Now, take off your shirt as it will also help me if we minimize physical barriers." "Now take off your shirt. It will also help me if we minimize the barriers between us." He helped as Dean carefully inched his shirt off.

Dean didn't fight him at all and simply laid back down when they had his shirt off. Cas's eyes search the bruised skin below him then frowned when he spotted something odd on Dean's left shoulder. Cas motioned with a nod of his head and asked curiously, "When did you get that?"

Dean glanced over and saw a large, raised burn in the form of a handprint on his shoulder. He frowned heavily then saw Cas's hand cross over and lightly cover the burn. The two matched up perfectly. Dean had thought that it would hurt but instead he felt a soothing warmth flare over the burn's surface and couldn't suppress the involuntary soft moan that sound as a result of the comfort it gave him. It was almost like a really great massage on his sore muscles at the end of a long hard workday.

`"Dean?" Cas called to him hoarsely from what sounded like a large distance.

"Yeah?" He mumbled slightly, sinking down into the relaxed sensation softly pulsing throughout his weary body.

"You have to let me in," Cas reminded him tautly with a slightly louder but still hoarse voice.

"Mmmm'kay," Dean mumbled out the agreement with reluctant resignation over the fact that he still couldn't rest but at least he was slightly more coherent.

After a long thoughtful moment, he frowned slightly and questioned huskily, "How?"

"Relax your body's defenses. Relax everything," Cas instructed feebly, not really certain how to explain what he needed Dean to do as he sensed the body beneath him for resistance.

"M'kay," Dean mumbled out softly, obviously falling further away from consciousness.

Cas shook his head as he still felt something blocking his entry. He wondered what to do then finally he called out in a slightly louder voice, "Dean, tell me I have permission to do this."

"M'kay. You have permission," Dean mumbled softly as he fell into the warming fuzz pulsing through his mind. His eyes fluttered closed of their own accord. He couldn't tell if darkness or light was waiting for him on the other side and, for once, he honestly didn't care.

Cas frowned slightly then shook his head at the faint underlying resistance he still encountered. He prompted again, "Do I have your permission, Dean?" Dean nodded slightly with a warm peaceful look on his face. Cas rolled his eyes slightly then prodded harshly, "Answer me, Dean. Out loud. Do I have your permission? Can my grace, my essence, that enter your body?"

"Yes," Dean hissed out with increasing pleasure before his mind stumbled into an overwhelming sensation of purifying warmth. His eyes rolled and his soul felt light for the first time in centuries. He felt it surge up at the lifted weight, almost out of his own body, only to merge with Cas's grace flowing into him. White hot sparks flew at the stunning collision of the two pure energies becoming one. Dean's mind buckled under the onslaught then shut down in self-preservation while the overwhelming tide wave of ecstatic sensations flowed throughout their bodies.

Dean didn't feel his friend's body collapse on top of his or hear the sudden exclamations of other voices. He only knew that his partner, his friend, his cell mate, was with him and, for once, he felt like he might actually be okay. He willingly fell down into the abyss once again. Only this time, he wasn't alone. This time, he and Cas held on to each other tightly. Nothing was ever going to tear them apart again.

- SPN - SPN -

"Well," Gabriel observed drily as he appeared in the panic room on the right side of the bed. "You don't see that every day."

Balthazar gasped in shock then repeated the action repeatedly, imitating a drowning fish for a few moments, before squawking out incredulously, "Seriously? That's all you have to say? Seriously!"

Gabriel shrugged slightly, still starring with bemusement at the crumpled figure of one of his baby brothers draped over his human charge. He pursed his lips slightly as he countered drolly, "All? Oh, hell, no! That's definitely not all I have to say. I mean . . . there's just soooo many ways to go with this . . . have to figure out which way would be the funniest, you know, for me, that is."

Balthazar rolled his eyes in exasperation and demanded hotly, "How can you not understand the significance . . ."

Gabriel turned abruptly and stared forcefully into Balthazar's eyes, looking every inch like the powerful archangel that he was, while he answered intently, "Oh, I understand, alright. I understand perfectly . . . I understand that Dean can no longer be our oldest brother's vessel so he no longer has any part to play in this anymore. He is effectively out of play, which, by the way, is one less game piece for us to worry about."

Gabriel paused slightly then smirked sinisterly, "In fact, I think little Cassie here might have actually come upon the perfect solution for this particular end game."

"You're not thinking . . ." Balthazar sputtered indignantly and with a great deal of dread.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow daringly and challenged sarcastically, "Oh, I'm not?"

"It's for eternity, you idiot! Not just as long as they live their lives," Balthazar pointed out adamantly. "Forever!"

"What? You have someone else in mind?" Gabriel continued facetiously. "Besides, Cassie that is?"

"What? No. Of course, not. And Cassie wasn't . . . Oh, that's so not the point here, Gabriel," Balthazar argued hotly. "Say this works. Say it works this time. What about the next time around? And the time after that? We are only allowed one, you know. In addition, we are two shy by my count. There are four more humans up there and only two of us."

"And how many do you know up there whom would still be willing to help Cassie out?" Gabriel wondered curiously.

Balthazar sighed reluctantly, which was enough of an answer, so Gabriel continued earnestly, "Look, I know it's not perfect but it is a solution that we can think about. The question you need to figure out is if any of Cassie's feathered friends would be interested in helping us at all, much less, in this way. What do you think?"

"I think there hasn't been a human-angel bond in several millennia and you know why," Balthazar snapped irritably.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and answered tightly, "Of course, I know why. It was one of the things . . ." He trailed off and shook his head slightly before getting back on track. "But we are not talking about that kind of mating here, not really. I mean, these two aren't going to produce a Nephilim. Castiel isn't even one of the Fallen. He never disowned Father and Father never disowned him."

Balthazar frowned contemplatively as he studied his unconscious, long-lost brother. He admitted reluctantly, "No. No. Cassie never did. Even when he was in the Pit being tortured. He, and this . . . human . . . how can . . ."

"You saw what he showed me," Gabriel interrupted patiently, knowing that the angel was about to head down a path that was no longer possible. "Dean, this human, helped Cassie as much as Cassie helped him. They held each other together through everything. In many ways, they were already bonded before either of them left that Hell."

"He didn't know what he was doing here," Balthazar argued tautly.

"No, he didn't," Gabriel agreed readily. "In fact, he is still struggling to remember all of his angelic nature. All he knew was that he had to heal his friend, his companion, his lifeline, and that his friend inviting him in would reduce the strain. But the bond had already started, hadn't it? That's why you couldn't heal Dean earlier, right?"

Balthazar exhaled heavily and nodded slowly, finally accepting the path that was before him. He stared for a moment longer then conceded regretfully, "I will make some discreet inquires with some mutual friends and see what I can sense from them before jeopardizing anyone."

"Do you think they are aware of you helping us earlier?" Gabriel questioned with concern.

"No. I did not see or sense anyone near me. They were totally focused on Cassie," Balthazar answered easily. "I will return within twelve Earth hours. If I'm longer, you will know."

"Go with Father," Gabriel said both goodbye and good luck with his blessing before turning to study the two figures on the bed. With a slight hand motion, he moved Castiel's body to rest on his back beside Dean. He immediately noticed the raised burned handprint on Dean's shoulder for what it was.

He sighed heavily then slowly waved a hand over Dean's body, checking for additional injuries. Dean's concussion was gone and his back was healed but his shoulder and ribs would be sore for another two weeks or so. Considering Dean needed to stay in bed for a few days anyway because of the ritual, Gabriel figured he was healed enough for now.

- SPN - SPN -

Dean slowly stretched his sore, tight muscles and gave a relaxed sigh. Even though he could still feel some of the damage that had been done to his body, he felt so much better now than he had in a few Earth years. In fact, he actually felt like he could finally fully heal up this time. He shifted to a comfortable position then frowned slightly when he realized Cas wasn't with him anymore.

He sighed again at the knowledge that he probably should get up now. He slowly opened his eyes to see sunlight beaming through the panic room ceiling fan. It was obviously late morning or early afternoon.

'Yep, definitely time to get up,' he thought to himself.

He moved slowly as he rose from the bed and got dressed until his muscles warmed up. By the time he left the panic room, he was moving at normal speed. He climbed the stairs, calling out for Cas inside his mind.

He entered the kitchen to see everyone seated for lunch at the same time that Castiel appeared right in front of him, asking curiously, "Yes?"

Dean gave a slight smile and answered lightly, "Nothing. Just wondered where you were."

Cas cocked his head slightly and studied Dean for a moment before observing aloud, "You need to eat."

"Would," Dean returned wryly, "but you're blocking the way." Dean motioned behind Cas to the set table that his family was gathered around.

Cas flushed slightly then moved to the side and allowed Dean to pass. Dean moved toward the table while he asked curiously, "Did you find either of your flighty feathered fros?"

"No," Cas answered abruptly as he followed Dean to the table.

Dean sat down and started to fill his plate with the sandwich stuff on the table. He'd just started to take a bite when someone shouted in his ear, "Heeellllllooooo! Did you miss me?"

Dean coughed and choked as food flew from his mouth and hand at being so startled. "God . . ."

"Dean!" Cas scolded firmly, knowing what Dean was about to say.

"Damn," Dean continued irately as though Cas hadn't said anything. "Son of a . . ." His mouth continued his curse even though his voice made no sound.

"Now, now, Deano," Gabriel corrected with patient parental condensation. "When your mate tries to talk to you, you really should listen. After all, no angel, or mate, appreciates you talking about their Father that way."

Dean's glare clearly outlined all the violence that Dean felt like doing to this particular angel, who also clearly didn't care. Gabriel smoothly turned toward his brother angel and announced easily, "Cassie. We have a problem." Cas cocked his head curiously and waited while Gabriel continued, "Apparently we aren't the only ones after little Chucky because he's protected himself very well. I can't get to him. Any ideas?"

Cas easily palmed his phone and speed dialed it. He announced quickly, "Chuck. We need to talk. Clear a path." He hung up and told Gabriel, "I have to come with you or he won't trust you."

"Of course. Shall we?" Gabriel proposed cockily, offering his arm.

Cas frowned slightly in confusion then rolled his eyes once he understood the gesture. He turned and told Dean solemnly, "We will be back."

Dean waved him away nonchalantly and went back to eating his lunch, knowing how little time it would take Cas to get things going again. He was really hungry and wanted to eat as much as he could before things started. Of course, as shrunken as his stomach was from not being able to eat for so long, it probably wouldn't take long to fill up.

John took a moment to study his son then asked curiously, "How are you feeling, Dean?"

Unfortunately, Sam inquired at the same time, "What did he mean, 'mate'?"

Dean's eyes darted between the two of them but he decided to answer the easier question first. And, by easier, he meant the one that he actually knew the answer to. He offered lazily, "I'm good. Hungry. But good."

"Really, Dean?" Adam verified cautiously. "No bullshit."

Dean shrugged slightly and clarified generously, for a change, "Well, my shoulder and ribs are still sore but the rest of me is definitely good. Better than I've been in a long time, in fact." He took another big bite of the ham and cheese sandwich that he'd been eating.

"Dean," Sam prodded stubbornly.

Dean rolled his eyes and deflected firmly, "How in the hell should I know how that airhead thinks? Could mean cell mates, which seems logical, or anything else, for all I know. Or whatever the hell else he wants it to mean? I got no clue how that SOB thinks so I don't have any idea, Sam. Honestly, it's the first time that I've heard it from the featherhead."

"Obviously, ol'boy," Balthazar commented snobbishly as he appeared lounging against the doorframe. "One would have to have a brain to have an idea."

Dean sighed heavily, obviously at the end of his patience, but otherwise ignored the newest arrival.

"Oh, stoic today, are we?" Balthazar taunted sarcastically. "Jolly good. The less I have to hear of your inane babble, the better." He elegantly brushed the dust off his jacket sleeve.

"Well, no one rattled your birdcage so why don't you just wing your prissy, pompous ass back home?" Dean snarked nastily, pointedly focusing on his sandwich.

Before Balthazar could respond, a heart-felt groan sounded in the room quickly followed by a familiar, distraught voice announcing pathetically, "I'm goin' be sick."

"Down the hall, first door on your left," Dean directed briskly from around the food in his mouth without looking up. Swift footsteps sounded through the house as they quickly impacted the hard wood floors. The bathroom door slammed shut while Dean glanced at Cas and observed dryly, "Another satisfied flier from Air Angel, huh, Cas?"

"He's drunk," Cas returned solemnly before adding redundantly. "Again."

"Of course, he is," Dean agreed easily before he questioned curiously. "Did you really expect anything different?" He continued to eat while everyone could hear Chuck vomiting forcefully in the bathroom.

"No," Castiel sighed heavily with resignation.

"That's the guy who's supposed to help us?" Adam questioned doubtfully, having gotten over the shock of the sudden appearance and figuring out who had just arrived.

"Seriously?" Sam verified incredulously. "You've got to be kidding!"

"Don't count on it," Dean muttered cynically under his breath.

"Dean," Cas called and waited for Dean to look at him. "I just found out. Chuck . . . he's . . . well, he's a prophet."

"Well, he sure as hell ain't no doctor, much less a scientist," Dean grumbled irritably under his breath. "Probably sucks as a prophet, too."

"No, Dean," Cas argued seriously, wanting, no, needing Dean to understand. He had to make Dean comprehend the significance of this. "Chuck is . . ."

"Yeah, I get it," Dean interrupted dismissively. "He's a prophet of the Lord. What he sees happen, happens. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Whatever."

"Dean."

"What, Cas?" Dean snapped irritably, tossing down what little was left of his sandwich. This subject always took away his appetite so it was definitely a plus that he was already almost full. "Don't you get it? I don't give a damn what the hell he is, was, or will be. Nothing can change my opinion of him. Nothing. So unless you are trying to tell me that God wanted . . ."

"No!"

"Then I don't care," Dean growled irritably as he quickly stood, unable to contain his emotions. "And I'm not being a stubborn, irrational ass. You weren't there, in that room, when..."

"I know," Cas started to interrupt then drew up suddenly. "Wait."

"For what?" Dean countered hotly.

Cas stared at him intently and narrowed his eyes. Is our link back? He sent out psychically to Dean.

Dean's eyes widened slightly as he stared back and thought, Feels like. How?

I don't , , ,

"Can we not do that again? Like ever!" Chuck begged weakly from the kitchen doorway. His very mussed, wavy brown hair showed signs of either being repeatedly raked through by frustrated hands or had a very troubled night in bed. The troubled night seemed much more likely based on the faded red and white striped bath robe that covered the light blue pajama shirt and pants clothing the small framed man. His black rimmed glasses were slightly a skewed as well, rounding out the unshaven, unkempt appearance.

Cas turned to consider Chuck but Gabriel simply flew over to Chuck and touched his forehead. "We need you sober for this discussion," he explained briskly.

"Bummer," Chuck commented dejectedly.

"Would you like something to eat?" Cas inquired politely.

Dean rolled his eyes and picked up his plate to clear a spot for the newcomer. Some would probably believe that he was only trying to be polite but honestly he couldn't stomach sitting at the same table with the newcomer. He tossed his trash into the bin then walked over to the sink to stare out the window, determined to ignore Chuck as much as possible. He felt Cas lean against the counter on his left side then their shoulder touched and Dean felt a very muted version of the soothing warmth from last night. He let out a slow breath then let his body release some of its tension.

"Uh, no thanks," Chuck answered uneasily.

Dean rolled his eyes slightly and glanced at Cas who was staring at him already. With a resigned sigh, Dean turned to face the room again while he leaned back against the sink. He folded his arms across his chest and ordered with abrupt harshness, "Take my seat, Chuck. After all, you already took everything else."

Chuck's eyes widened in fear and guilt while both Cas and John snapped out, "Dean."

Cas's call had more of a warning to it while John's contained more of a question. Dean growled irritably in the back of his throat then he rolled his eyes and sighed again with resignation. He swallowed his ire and continued with more restraint, "Chuck, just sit down already. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner . . ."

"It had to be done," Chuck forced out quickly, interrupting Dean. "I mean . . . well, I . . . um . . . I . . ."

"Chuck!" Dean snapped irritably, effectively stopping the poor man's stuttering. The man snapped his mouth closed then stared at Dean with fright-stricken eyes. Dean ran a hand over his face then drew in a deep breath before stating suggestively, "How about we deal with now at the moment? Hmm? After all, that's what is important here Right?"

Chuck gulped nervously and jumped about a food as Gabriel clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Great suggestion, Deano," Gabriel agreed heartily.

"Chuck," Cas continued firmly while lending his support to Dean through their contact. "We need to know what you know. What you've seen. What you've written about."

Chuck stared at him a moment with wide eyes then sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, "I need a drink."

"NO!" Both Dean and Cas denied the request hotly.

"Fine," Chuck sulked petulantly. "What do you want to know? Whether your new plan will work? Or whether Dean did the right thing by eliminating Zach? Because he did, you know. Killing Zack. It was his destiny." Dean scoffed dismissively.

"Oh, Father," Balthazar muttered disbelievingly under his breath.

"Actually," Gabriel redirected pointedly as he took over the conversation. "We were more interested in what you currently know about the present situation."

Chuck glanced at him then nodded and offered slowly, "I don't know whether your plan will work or not. I haven't seen that far yet but, honestly, I would try negating your other brother's vessel first. After all, that one would be harder to replace it than the one that's already compromised. Right?"

"Huh?" Adam prodded with confusion.

"What the hell does that mean?" John demanded irritably. The angels, on the other hand, were silent as they all pondered the suggestion. Cas turned to Dean so that they could connect mentally.

'What does he mean, Cas? What does he mean by 'vessel'?' Dean questioned silently, only to hear Sam ask his last question aloud. Dean didn't turn to face the others because he wanted to hear what Cas was thinking through this. It was obviously too important not to.

Gabriel explained slowly, "Angels are pretty much beings of pure energy. If I was to appear before you in my true form, I would most likely burn your eyes out and rupture your ear drums before my energy killed you or burned you to ashes. For that reason, when we have to interact with humans, we have to take vessels."

"So you're all possessing some poor bastards?" John growled with outrage.

"No. And yes," Gabriel answered easily. "Yes, we are in a human's body but, no, we do not 'possess' them like you are thinking. We aren't demons so we can only enter a human's body if they accept us. Give us permission. In effect, let us in."

Dean frowned slightly over that terminology and posed the question mentally, 'I let you in last night. Did you possess me then?'

'No. That was different. Later,' Cas ordered lightly, once again focusing on the outside conversation.

"In fact, most of them pray for this," Gabriel added as an afterthought.

"Well, I know for sure that none of us are praying for this so what did 'Chuck' mean just now?" John continued hotly, concern for his sons making him very irritable. No one spoke for a moment while the angels tried to figure out how much to say on the subject.

Chuck offered uneasily, "Perhaps I should . . . um . . ."

Dean's brow furrowed as he related emotionlessly, "If I start the apocalypse, I am supposed to become a vessel to . . . Michael so Sam . . . No! No way in Hell, Cas!" Dean snarled as he read Cas's thoughts to their conclusion.

"Sam what?" John demanded.

"Nothing!" Dean bit out sharply at his father while he mentally swore, 'Never going to happen, Cas!'

'No, it won't, Dean. I promise!' Cas promised in kind.

Meanwhile, Gabriel cocked his head slightly in contemplation. He disappeared from Chuck's side, only to appear suddenly at Sam's side. Gabriel reached out and touched two fingers to Sam's forehead.

Sam startled slightly then his head fell back as he and the angel disappeared from the kitchen.

"What the . . ." John started then growled with outrage, "Where's Sam?"

Dean spun around to look, only to turn toward the study when Sam's pained cry sounded throughout the house. Dean charged into the study, followed by the others. He stopped at the sight of Sam's prone form on the couch with Gabriel's fingers still on Sam's forehead.

Gabriel held out a hand to stop them then explained solemnly, "I have to clean him out. It's the only way."

"Clean what out?" Dean wondered uneasily.

"John?" Gabriel redirected easily. "You want to tell your sons? Or should I?" Dean and Adam frowned as they swung around to view their father's resigned face. Gabriel arched a challenging eyebrow and John knew that he had no choice.

John sighed heavily as he stared at Dean, "I found out what Azazel was doing in the nursery all those years ago." He paused for a moment while his son waited impatiently. Finally, he bit out disgustedly, "He feed Sam some of his blood. That's why he's having visions. He's what the demon wanted. Your mother . . . she . . . she just . . . got in the way."

"That's why he's Lucifer's . . ." Balthazar tried to finish, only to be cut off rudely.

"Don't! Don't you dare say it!" Dean warned menacingly. His heated glare promised deathly violence on the angel's person if it did. He wasn't ever going to hear aloud what he had heard within Cas's mind. Surprisingly, Balthazar heeded Dean's warning.

"Chuck," Cas segued firmly. "Will this correct things?"

Chuck looked at the angel hopelessly before he answered honestly, "I don't know. I haven't seen that far yet. I do know that, if it doesn't, Gabriel's plan would probably only have to pertain to Sam. With Dean out of it, Sam's the only other piece that needs to be removed from play. With Sam and Dean gone, they don't have enough to play the game and will have to wait for the right conditions to appear again."

"How is Dean out of play?" John asked curiously. "He was in play last night. How is he now all of the sudden out?" Dean frowned over that as well.

"Don't," Cas commanded Gabriel harshly but it was no use.

"Because Dean and Cassie here eloped last night!" Gabriel announced joyously while Balthazar rolled his eyes at his older brother's antics. "So . . . Dayenu, boys! Since I didn't get an invite, I don't owe you a gift so win-win, right?"

"And, on that note, I'm out of here," Balthazar announced wryly. "Call when you find out where we are or you have something for me." He disappeared before anyone could say anything.

"We what?" Dean exclaimed incredulously, completely ignoring Balthazar. "What the . . . Dude, I'm not gay! We didn't . . ."

"Never said you were, Deanie-baby," Gabriel agreed easily as he abruptly cut Dean off. "But you and Cassie did bond last night, right? Or did you forget what I just said about letting one of us in?" He finished with suggestive wiggling of his eyebrows.

"What the . . ." Dean continued with disbelief until Gabriel's last question finally filtered through his mind. At which point, his mouth snapped closed. He turned to glare at Cas who flushed hotly and shifted uneasily. "Cas?"

Cas stared at him nervously while he answered psychically, 'Sorry. I didn't . . .uh, remember. I mean, I just . . . I . . ." Dean felt all the worry, shame and regret coursing through Cas's mind and sighed heavily.

"Dean?" John called with concern.

Dean turned to stare at his father sheepishly. He shrugged nonchalantly then explained lightly, "I was hurt, you know, from Zach . . . and . . . well, Hell. Cas was trying to heal me . . ." He trailed off, not knowing what else to say. After all, what's done was done. There was nothing else to do.

"I am sorry, John Winchester," Cas offered solemnly. "I knew I would be able to heal him easier if he gave me permission. I . . . I didn't . . ."

"He didn't remember that part of it," Dean finished for his friend abruptly. "The mate part until it was mentioned this morning." He knew that Cas hadn't meant for things to go like this. Cas would have never tricked him into something like this. He knew this because of the past three years on top of what he had already felt inside his friend's mind.

"It's why we have the link back," Cas explained to Dean.

Dean nodded and allowed reasonably, "Makes sense." He glanced around and asked, "So now what?"

Gabriel shrugged as he removed his hand from Sam's forehead then he suggested logistically, "I can have Balthazar check up on the hunters' meeting while we wait to find out if cleaning out Sam was enough."

"How will we find that out?" Adam wondered uncertainly.

"Chuck," Cas answered easily. "Hopefully, he will be able to see far enough ahead to let us know."

"If not," Gabriel added, "I can shadow Sam until he does or until we figure something else out. I'll be Sammy's little angel on his shoulder."

"Father, help him," Cas mumbled the sarcastic prayer under his breath.

"Uh, Dean, we need to talk," John announced firmly after acknowledging the two angels' suggestions.

Dean arched an eyebrow and suggested easily, "So talk because there is nowhere within at least a mile radius that we can go where they won't hear us. And since we are supposed to be on lock down, it might as happen here."

John frowned heavily then took in the two angels watching with interest before he shrugged and took the bull by the horns, so to speak. "How are you okay with this mate thing? What the hell is a mate anyway? I mean, it's not a real marriage, is it? Like marriage, marriage? As in, like two becoming . . . like, you know, s . . . Ah, hell, is there a divorce process?"

Dean smirked slightly at the rush of uncomfortable questions coming from his father as well as his father's highly flushed face before turning to Cas and prodding mockingly, 'Your questions, I believe.'

"A mating is when two beings enter into a partnership," Cas answered succinctly.

Dean snickered mockingly at his mate's uncomfortable evasion, "That's tellin' him, Cas. Thanks for clearing that up. A very detailed footnote there."

Gabriel smiled at the telling interaction but pointed out specifically, "An angel mating is forever. Or the angel's lifetime. Basically, forever's shorter. The mating can be a lot of things, depending on the couple. Angels are essentially sexless so most, like Cassie here, don't have any inclinations that way. There is no divorce. Only way to dissolve a mating is to kill one of the mates which in turn generally kills the other mate painfully within weeks since they are, in fact, bonded physically, mentally and spiritually."

John sighed heavily and sunk down on to the edge of Bobby's desk. He wiped a hand over his face then looked sorrowfully at Dean and muttered, "Aw, hell, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes at the ridiculous expression on his father's face. One would think that Dean had just been given a death sentence. He shook his head before he braced his feet apart and crossed his arms. He challenged firmly, "What, Dad? What? Are you telling me this is something to be upset over? Seriously? After everything else these past two years, you want to have a caring and sharing moment over this?"

"I never wanted this for you, Dean," John snapped back irately.

"Oh, come on, Dad," Dean dismissed easily. "What the hell? You trained me. You raised me. To be a hunter. What the hell life did you expect me to have?"

"A normal one!" John stated adamantly. "Now that Azazel is gone . . ."

"Oh, please!" Dean scoffed cynically as he interrupted bitingly. "My life hasn't been normal since I was four. It's never going to be normal. Even before this. Do you really think that I could have been normal, even if I hadn't been kidnapped by hell spawn? Seriously? Do you honestly see me sleeping peacefully at night in some suburban hell with a wife and two point five kids while other people, other kids, are getting torn to shreds by their worst nightmares come true? Do you? Or, do you see me raising them to be hunters instead? Because if you see either case happening, you do not know me at all."

"Fact is," Dean confided sincerely, "I don't know anyone I would rather have by my side for eternity. He's already been a constant in my life for more years than I've known anyone else. He's always had my back and takes care of me, in spite of me, which should really mean something to you. I could do a lot worse, Dad."

The speech seems to have mollified his father slightly but John pried softly, "What about sex, Dean? Kids? What about all that?"

Dean shrugged nonchalantly then admitted honestly, "I have no idea. As far as kids, I'm not sure I even want them right now but I do know that we save a lot of them. Sometimes we aren't in time to save their parents, though. So, there's always adoption but, like I said, I don't know that I want that right now. Or ever."

"As for the rest of it, I can honestly say at this point in time, none of it is on my priority list, and it won't be for a while. As I stated before, there's a lot about the Pit you won't ever know. Let's leave it at that," Dean finished with taut firmness.

John stared at Dean for a long moment before he slowly stood then walked over to Cas with his hand stretched out. "Welcome to the family, Castiel."

Cas stared at John's hand for a moment then glanced at Dean before shaking John's hand firmly.

"Ooh, ooh, me, too," Gabriel stated enthusiastically as he poofed in front of John while moving Cas next to Dean with a thought and a blink.

John stared hard at Gabriel a moment then took the angel's hand, commenting, "Well, they have been sleeping with each other for quite a while now, haven't they?"

"Oh, a few centuries at least from what I've seen," Gabriel agreed readily then lamented woefully. "About time he made an honest man of my little brother. Talk about taking advantage of a situation. My poor baby brother."

"Oh, God, kill me now," Dean muttered with disgusted resignation while trying to will the flush off of his heated face. The flush remained even though his emotions quickly changed from acute embarrassment to ire. "Are they freakin' bonding over this? Seriously? Dude, are you sure he's with you? That you two are a package deal?" He verified intently with Cas.

"Unfortunately," Cas confirmed with the same tone, feeling similar emotions, and not just through their 'profound' bond.

Adam startled them by coming up behind them and clapping both of them on the shoulders while he forced himself between them. "I just love all my bros. Including my new ones. Even if some of them are gay!"

"Dude! I am not gay!" Dean denied hotly.

"Denial," all three of them commented while Bobby ignored them behind his desk and Cas had his normal curious expression on his face.

Dean's head fell back on his shoulders while he muttered to himself again, "Yea, definitely. Please kill me now."

"Be careful what you wish for," Chuck muttered behind him, causing Dean to turn and glare at him.

- SPN - SPN -

I hope you enjoyed this ch

Chapter Text

Oh, yeah, everything is unbeta'd. All my mistakes are my own.  Also, didn't do quite as many re-reads and edits so there will probably be more mistakes than usual.

Disclaimer: Kripke owns all Supernatural characters. I'm only borrowing them.

Pairing: Dean/Castiel - No Explicit scenes. Mostly platonic at this point. Please let me know what you think, constructively.

Overall Warnings:  Rated T  for swearing, only implied S and M undertones, and other adult subject matter.

Hope it was worth the wait!

- SPN - SPN -

Chapter 20 – Uriel

Dean had barely fixed his glare on Chuck for a second when the entire house started to shake and shudder as though a massive earthquake was taking place. Sam jerked up in surprise and blinked groggily, attempting to figure out what the hell was going on, while the others braced themselves where they stood. Chuck, Dean noticed, stared fearfully at the ceiling while he heard Cas curse hotly. Dean growled out irritably, "Now what? I know South Dakota isn't known for earthquakes so . . ."

"Gabriel," Cas started uncertainly.

"Yeah, I know," Gabriel sighed heavily with resignation. "Get ready but don't make it look like you're ready. You know obvious."

"How in the hell do I do that?" Cas returned with irritable exasperation. Gabriel glared in response then hit Cas in the forehead with his palm. Cas glared slightly before his eyes unfocused then refocused. Cas nodded with the comment, "Oh."

Dean rolled his eyes slightly at his mate while realizing Gabriel must have passed on a message to Cas with the palm hit.

Before he could ask anything else, the front door flew open and a very well-dressed African American casually strolled inside the house like he owned it. He paused at the study entryway as he surveyed the occupants of the room. The humans, and Cas, felt his immense disgust as his eyes swept past them to center on the archangel in the room.

"Hello, Gabriel," he greeted solemnly then regarded Castiel once again with even more distain. "Please tell me that you are bringing the traitor home for punishment and re-indoctrination. I will gladly accompany you on your successful return to our highest heavenly ranks."

"Of course," Gabriel answered easily and watched Uriel relax his stance slightly then survey the rest of the room as Dean growled warningly. Dean quickly swallowed his ire at Cas's hand signal but the damage was done.

Uriel narrowed his eyes at Dean and studied the human vessel more intently then demanded harshly, "What traitor has betrayed the Host and claimed our eldest brother's vessel as their own? Why is it still standing? Breathing? It should have been destroyed immediately. How was this allowed to happen?" Uriel charged forward towards Dean during his tirade while pulling out his angel sword. His intent was very clear to all present.

Before Uriel was in stabbing range of Dean who had prepared himself by allowing Zachariah's angel sword to fall into his palm from inside his sleeve, Castiel flew to his mate's defense and appeared instantly in front of Dean with his own sword drawn. "Don't," he warned menacingly.

"Like I would even acknowledge an oozing pus sore like you," Uriel sneered dismissively while he continued his advance. He was clearly intent on eliminating both Castiel and Dean. Zealous fervor blazed hotly from his dark eyes.

"Then acknowledge me, Uriel," Gabriel challenged firmly as he appeared beside his mated brother with his archangel blade drawn. He stood directly in between the mated couple and Uriel. There was no way he was going to let his little brother suffer any more pain than he already had.

Uriel narrowed his eyes then called out abruptly, "Rafael!" The other angels in the room flinched slightly then steeled themselves for the battle ahead. Uriel smirked menacingly at their obvious discomfort, certain in the knowledge that his errant brothers would soon be taught the error of their traitorous ways. In the end, they would bow down in supplication to the new Order, as they should.

Dean reached forward and touched his mate's shoulder. Cas glanced back at him and warned quickly through their bond, Be ready. Stay by me. This will be bloody.

Dean nodded firmly while he readied the sword in his hand so that it was no longer stuck in his sleeve. He'd be damned if he was giving up Castiel after all they'd been through. Plus, he still needed to get even with the damn fool for Vegas'ing him and telling everyone about it.

Another well-dressed African American entered the house and commented drily, "Well, well, well, if it isn't my long, long lost brother and the . . . traitor. Somehow, I get the feeling that you've once again chosen the wrong side, Gabriel. So, as much as I'd love to welcome you back, I don't see that happening."

"Rafael," Gabriel greeted reservedly. "How do you fit into all of this? I mean, Uriel here is obviously a tool but you . . . you are so . . . above all that. So what's your take, brother? What part of Heaven were you given?"

"Whichever part I want, obviously," Rafael taunted mockingly. "You see, I'm the one in charge of, well, everything," he announced proudly as he strode through the room, grimacing over the dirty, dusty interior.

"Really?" Gabriel verified tauntingly. "I thought Michael was in charge. What happened to him?"

"Oh, nothing," Rafael answered with unconvincing innocence. He rolled his eyes upward briefly. "He's still up there. Waiting for reports. From me. Who, of course, will tell him in great detail how horribly his own brothers betrayed him, once again." Then he smirked evilly.

"Wait," Gabriel interrupted instantly, picking up on the slip. "What do you mean, 'once again'?"

Rafael shrugged noncommittally and dismissed easily, "It doesn't matter. You are already dead, brother. Confirming it to Michael will change nothing."

"Meaning that you will tell him what you want him to hear and only that," Gabriel filled in easily.

Rafael arched an eyebrow then verified smugly, "Of course."

"You did all this," Castiel surmised with dread. After all, fighting a few rogue angels was one thing. Fighting rogue archs was guaranteed death to all. "You had Zachariah capture me and sent me to . . ."

"Your reward, Castiel," Rafael finished with barely disguised hatred that shocked everyone in the room. "For your betrayal. Betrayal of your own kind. For what? A stupid, worthless mudmonkey."

"But I . . ."

"Betrayed no one?" Rafael interrupted caustically. "I didn't give you the chance this time around," he announced briskly as he advanced on the couple. "And yet you still chose this, this grotesque stain once again. Even mated him this time. You are obviously a flawed abomination that needs to be destroyed."

"Not so fast, chuckles," Dean growled out threateningly as he moved up to stand next to his mate. He'd be damned if he was going to cower in the back like some vapid damsel-in-distress. No way was he going to be the girl in this.

"Dean," Castiel warned harshly.

"No," Dean argued hotly. "I want to know what the hell is going on before we kill him."

"You obnoxiously little bacterium will never kill me," Rafael growled out irately. "I will smite you where you stand."

"But the bacterium does have a point," Gabriel pointed out firmly while he moved to be in between the advancing angels and the mated couple behind him. "What's with the rewind? I know you don't have enough power to do this alone so what did you tell Mikey that had him help? In fact, what happened the first time around to cause you to go to this extreme?"

"None of your . . ." Rafael snarled angrily as he charged toward Castiel, only to be frozen within a few steps.

"It might not be his business but it is mine, Rafael," Michael announced authoritatively as he appeared in the room where Rafael had been while Balthazar appeared by Castiel's side, opposite Dean.

"Let me go, Michael," Rafael growled slightly. "We have to eliminate the traitor and his human blight."

Michael narrowed his eyes as he observed the others in the room. They narrowed even more as they took in the bond between his vessel and his little brother. He refocused on Rafael and decided aloud, "While that might be true, I still want to know what exactly has been going on, in your own words."

"What do you mean, brother?" Rafael asked innocently as he slowly turned to face Michael. Luckily, his brothers, Michael and Gabriel, allowed him the movement. "I am only carrying out your wishes. Our mission will be complete if you will only allow me to continue on. Our righteous path is clear."

Michael slowly cocked his head to the side contemplatively as he questioned curiously, "Continue on with what, brother?" When he saw Rafael start to answer, he qualified specifically, "Continue to torture our younger brother for sins not yet committed? Continue on your path to kill my vessel? Or continue to work with demons to create even more dangerous, disastrous abominations?" Although his voice started out casually, he ended with an irate hiss.

"Continue . . ." Rafael immediately started, only to stop abruptly when he realized Michael was on to him. He drew himself up and narrowed his eyes at his so-called 'leader', who was only that due to indiscriminate birth order. "Who . . ." He redirected hesitantly then he spotted Balthazar and knew he'd been found out. He hissed irritably then directed his attention to Uriel. He delivered a quick order psychically before he turned back to Michael who was still waiting for an answer.

"How about you tell me why you had our innocent little brother sent to that . . . Hell dimension?" Michael suggested harshly.

"He is far from innocent," Rafael hissed warningly. "He is defective. He would destroy everything. Him and that, that, filthy, pig, human who is an infection that destroys everything and everyone that comes in contact with him. They destroy everything. We cannot win as long as they live!"

Michael narrowed his eyes at the last statement and saw the fanatically glow in his arch brother's eyes. He knew whatever happened where this particular Rafael came from was very bad and didn't bode well for them, any of them. He nodded in acknowledgement of his brother's fanaticism and answered slowly, "Then it was not meant to be.'

"Wh-What?" Rafael stuttered in shock.

"If our little brother and a single human, or even a single human family, can stop this from happening, then it was not meant to be," Michael explained with slow patience.

"How can you say that?" Rafael stammered with shocked disbelief.

"Because it is true," Michael insisted simply. "Because the only way something so simple could possibly derail the work of Heaven's most powerful angels is because our Father does not want it to happen and we will respect His wishes."

"But . . ."

"There are no 'but's to this," Michael reasserted harshly. "We will abide by His decision as we are destined to do."

Rafael shot another glance at Uriel who gave a minuscule nod then Rafael drew up and growled hotly, "I don't think so. We were destined to rule this pathetic world and its pathetically weak, mindless inhabitants. It is time to set things right!"

In a blink of an eye, Rafael broke his bonds and attacked the biggest threat, rushing at Michael. Gabriel flew to Michael's defense while Uriel attacked Castiel and Dean. Two other angels appeared instantly and attacked Balthazar from behind and the side.

"Help Balthazar," Michael ordered Gabriel without pausing his fight with Rafael. Gabriel nodded and quickly engaged one of the angels ganging up on Balthazar. Castiel and Dean fought Uriel when another angel appeared in the room beside Uriel. It quickly sliced down Dean's exposed side.

"Damn it," Dean cursed hotly while he deflected the next attack and suggested caustically, "Anyone want to fix the freakin' angel proofing yet. It's getting crowded in here."

John, Bobby and Sam rushed out of the room and separated into different directions. Adam and Chuck dived for cover while they tried to figure out how to help without getting killed in the process. Dean was just glad that the others were out of the danger zone and refocused on his fight while trying to keep an eye on Castiel's fight simultaneously.

Another angel appeared behind Michael and attacked Michael's unguarded back. "Behind you, Mikey," Gabriel shouted out in warning while dodging his own attacker.

Michael barely evaded the back attack, only to have Rafael grab him from behind and place an arch blade across his neck. "Stand down," Rafael ordered harshly to the room at large.

"Hey, assbut," Adam called out loudly as he throw a flaming Molotov bottle at Rafael.

Rafael didn't turn fast enough as the flaming holy oil coated his entire back. His arms flew up in reaction, allowing Michael to spin out of holy oil flame range. Rafael screamed in pain then disappeared from view while he tried to extinguish the painful brew.

Michael quickly dispatched the other treacherous angel. Two more angels appeared but they took positions beside Balthazar and Castiel. The red headed female angel announced quickly, "The sigils have been remade. Others cannot get in."

Uriel knocked Castiel's blade away and slammed his fist into Castiel's face. Dean quickly turned and kicked the angel off balance. The angel stumbled into Anna who spun and stabbed the traitor in the back of his neck with her angel blade. Bright white light blazed out of Uriel's open mouth and eyes, slowly filling the room, as the angel died.

"Dean, shut your eyes!" Castiel ordered quickly while he turned to make sure his mate followed his order.

"Adam, Chuck, shut your eyes," Dean called out hoarsely while doing what his mate told him to.

The bright white light exploded with a loud screeching sound and Uriel's vessel fell to the study floor. Michael quickly commanded harshly, "All angels stand down now or you will die as well!"

Whether it was Michael's unyielding authority, their leader's absence or the sight of their brother's death, the other angels instantly submitted and dropped their swords at their feet. "Gather them, Anna, Balthazar, Samandriel. We will deal with them later." The other angels rounded them up and lead them into the kitchen to await Michael's judgment.

Michael then turned to the other humans charging back into the room, breathing heavily, as well as the others that had remained during the fight. He saw Castiel heal Dean with a soft touch on his side while his vessel, Dean, gifted Castiel with a slight smile in return. He nodded briefly toward Chuck before focusing on Dean, "Well, I'd say this meeting is long overdue."

Dean frowned slightly at a vague sense of déjà vu before he mentally shook it off. "Whatever," he dismissed irritably. "Are you going to fix all this? 'Cuz I'm really sick of all you featherbrains at this point."

"Really?" Michael barely quelled his irritation over this human's blatant lack of respect and queried disbelievingly. "Even Castiel?"

"He's the exception," Dean growled aggressively as he moved in between Michael and Castiel. "So keep your distance. He's mine and doesn't deserve . . ."

"Dean," Castiel warned softly while he gripped his mate's shoulder, not wanting another confrontation so soon. He hated to see his mate harmed which was happening way too much lately. Like the Pit hadn't been hard enough, he really expected more since they'd escaped.

"No, he doesn't," Michael interrupted both of them readily. "You are completely right."

"Your crap . . . wait, what?" Dean drew up abruptly with a shocked blink.

Michael gave a slight smile at the bemused human before he stared into his younger brother's shocked eyes. He continued seriously, "Castiel, Balthazar managed to . . . enlighten me as to what my brothers were doing. I honestly had no idea that you were imprisoned, much less what they were doing in those dimensions to you, and others."

"Yeah, right, like we believe you," Dean sneered dismissively, not taking his eyes from Michael who he still didn't trust one bit.

"Dean," Castiel commanded firmly.

Dean rolled his eyes and finally turned, demanding hotly, "What, Cas? I know you don't trust these winged monkeys any more than I do and I'll be damned if I'm going to let them hurt you again."

"I don't need you to defend me, Dean," Castiel countered hotly in return. "I am an angel. I am more powerful than you. I can take care of myself."

"Hey, I've seen what they did to you and I don't give a damn what you are . . ." Dean wound up as he laid into his angel. This argument was a perfect outlet for the post-battle adrenalin that he normally used sex for. Plus, he still needed to pay his angel back for the secret elopement.

Michael turned toward Gabriel as Dean and Castiel continued to bicker back and forth, like an old married couple, then asked curiously, "Do they always do this?"

"When they aren't eye-sexing, yes," Gabriel answered dryly.

"Eye-sex . . ." Michael started to question, only to be interrupted by Balthazar who currently had a tumbler of alcohol in his hand.

"Please, don't mention that again. It's difficult enough when we have to witness it, why pray tell must we talk about it as well?" Balthazar argued primly.

"Now, now, just because he stole your prom date, no need to . . ." Gabriel mocked tauntingly as only an older brother could.

"My prom date? Hardly," Balthazar argued hotly. "You are intentionally rewriting established history, you annoying, little prat."

"See, see," the trickster angel pointed out enthusiastically, practically bouncing in his spot. "You admit that you have history!"

"Oh, Father," Balthazar prayed for patience, or respite.

Michael wasn't sure which as he moved back from the building arguments. He surveyed the room for at least one reasonable entity and spotted Dean's brothers nearby having a very intent conversation with their elders standing close by. He heard Adam stating enthusiastically, "I'm telling you, they are actually married!"

"No way," Sam argued stubbornly, now completely free of demonic influence. "Dean's not gay."

"Maybe he didn't used to be," Adam remarked suggestively while wiggling his eyebrows playfully. John tried to keep it in but busted out laughing over his youngest's antics. His immense relief over the fact that his sons were finally, apparently safe only added to the spontaneous outburst.

Sam groaned and turned to Bobby, the only seemingly sane person in the room, to demand, "Bobby, please make him stop and tell the truth." Bobby's face flushed bright red before he turned away, muttering something about idjits and more whiskey. That did more to convince Sam than anything. He spotted Michael nearby and wondered with an unconscious grin, "Are we seriously in-laws now?"

Michael glanced back over his shoulder to see Castiel press Dean against the kitchen doorway, apparently still trying to get the stupid human to know his place, and sighed heavily, "It appears so."

Sam's sudden laughter joined his father's while Michael rolled his eyes in exasperation. He felt his brother's wings and arms encircle him as Gabriel commented smugly, "Aw, you love us and you know it."

"It's complete and utter chaos here," Michael complained irritably then called out, "Chuck, are you ready?"

"Wait! Wait just a damn minute," Dean called out immediately, shrugging off his mate's grip, and then stomping across the room. "What the hell are you talking about? Where are you going with Chuck?"

"I'm taking him to his reward, obviously," Michael explained impatiently while wondering why in fact he was. "His job is over. He's now allowed to enter his reward as a result."

"So you're killing him," Dean exploded with astonished dread. "Not on my watch, buddy boy. Go find someone else to torment. Chuck's ours."

Michael rolled his eyes again then demanded to the room at large, "Is he always this way?"

"What way?" Adam wondered curiously.

"Mother hen to everyone and everything," John, on the other hand, immediately caught on. "Yep, pretty much. Even if he doesn't like them, he won't put up with anything harming them."

"What a great characteristic for a, you know, mother," Balthazar commented tauntingly.

"Can it, asshat. You're next," Dean snarled impatiently before he rounded on Michael. "He's not going."

"It's okay, Dean," Chuck interrupted weakly with a small voice. "I know how you feel about me. I don't blame you. We both know I'm not needed, or wanted, here."

"Like hell," Dean snapped irritably. He reached out and grabbed Chuck's robe then pulled him in tight. He hissed under his breath so that only the angels and Chuck could hear it, "You're the only one who actually knows what all those asshats did to us. All of us. You're the only one who can help us. We need you and you know it."

Chuck frowned slightly then answered softly, "What if I can't? What if I don't know? I'm not a real scientist, Dean. You know that. You, of all people, know that."

"No, you're not," Dean agreed easily, loosening his grip on the robe slightly. "But I know you want to help. Otherwise, you wouldn't have kept that separate set of records. The question is, are you still willing to try?"

Chuck blinked and pursed his lips for a moment then asked hesitantly, "Are you willing to . . . forgive . . ." He stopped suddenly, unable to finish as he stared at the face that haunted his dreams so many nights, in so many variations. He swallowed thickly, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking.

Dean arched an eyebrow tauntingly before he smirked and answered flippantly, "Wouldn't have allowed you in my family's home otherwise, dumbass."

He let go of the small, trembling man before he turned to Michael and informed him easily, "Chuck's got a research project to finish. He'll call you later, Mikey."

Michael arched an eyebrow arrogantly then locked eyes with Castiel but all he asked was, "Seriously?" Castiel sighed heavily before he nodded with a wry smile while Gabriel laughed and Balthazar joined Bobby at his alcohol cabinet.

Dean clapped Chuck lightly on the shoulder then spun around with defensive ire at Sam's unexpected question and comment.

"Hey, Dean, since when did you trade being a dick for getting dick? Like I didn't know, you were always overcompensating for something."

"Damn it, Sam!"

The End

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