The lost plateau - The lost daughter Part 3
That night, Sam lay awake for a long while before Dean joined him. He had gone to bed early, so weary after the previous night's ordeal, but sleep was ignoring him. He didn't know if he was more afraid of the nightmares or the possibility of Jess reappearing and trying to suck his life out of him.
All he knew was that his need for Dean felt bigger than ever. This was why he had disrobed entirely before going to bed, despite his shame at having been seen naked once more by pretty much everyone in the Tree and the risk it might happen again in case of danger. But then Dean had been seen, too, and he didn't seem fazed by it one bit.
"Where were you ?" Sam asked, his tone almost accusing, when his brother finally held the sheet up to take his place next to him.
"Talking with Bobby. Making sure you're safe."
Dean's arms encircled Sam's body, in a gesture that had become the most natural thing in the world for them, and got him on his side, face against Dean's chest, with a sigh of happiness.
"Are we ? Safe, I mean."
"Think so. Castiel swung by again to bring hex bags he's sure will protect us from intruders. For good measure, Bobby and I added a few spells to try and deter any wicked stuff Samuel could get up to. And Jenn tried to make me drink the local equivalent of chamomile tea, which I gently but clearly refused. She wanted to offer some to you too but I told her you were asleep already. Why aren't you asleep ?"
"The bed felt too empty."
"You needed big manly me to feel safe, sweetheart ?"
Sam gave him a slap on top of his right thigh to make sure Dean understood he was not to be confused with one of the many girls he had slept with and he didn't have much of a taste for his brother's sense of humor.
"Say that again and big manly you will land on the floor, ass first."
The threat wasn't particularly ominous, the floor being so close, and Dean took it in jest.
"Ah, where's the love ?"
"You tell me. It's your job to make me forget everything else."
"I think I know just the way."
Sam found himself on his back again, his big brother leaning down above him to find his mouth and make out for a long while, distracting Sam from all his worries and troubles with his talented tongue and warm hands.
Soon Sam began feeling like his body was too tight to contain him and his need for Dean. He whined involuntarily, arching his back and pushing his hips against Dean's to make his desire as clear as possible, encouraging Dean to do the same. He could only compare these moments of bliss to a dazzling and far too short fever that left him weak but satiated, a thirst that only Dean could quench. Nothing felt as right as Dean's body rubbing against him, marking him once more as his, day after day.
Dean's mouth descended upon his neck, teeth and lips offering soft tingling kisses on his heated skin, as his hand found Sam's balls to massage them in time with his thrusts against Sam's groin. Sam's breath became shallow and difficult but it just pushed him to increase the friction to enhance all sensations.
He hiccupped like a drunken man, desperately reaching for air, when Dean's fingers wandered further and found his hole. They stopped at gentle caresses to avoid bringing up particular memories of the sacrifice and scare him. Gentle but insistent, in true Dean fashion, coaxing along rather than pushing.
"Inside," Sam pleaded. "Get them inside me. Please."
Instead, Dean brought his hand to Sam's mouth and Sam thought for a second that Dean was denying him until he remembered the need for lubricant. He opened up and wrapped his tongue around his brother's fingers for as long as necessary before Dean deemed them wet enough. Or maybe the gauge was all about Sam being turned on enough to accept the digital penetration.
Whatever. The fingers found his entrance again and one pushed in just as gently as they had rubbed. Sam quickly realized he was clenching his ass cheeks despite his incredible level of lust and did his best to welcome Dean inside him. The tip of Dean's thumb kept stroking his balls and it helped in a huge way to relax him enough to open up.
He was able this time to concentrate exclusively on the feelings brought by Dean's intrusion, instead of worrying about their audience, and it felt so damn good. Weird and sexy at the same time, the excitement of giving himself voluntarily to someone else for the first time nearly overwhelming. He pushed back, forcing Dean's finger deeper inside him.
He wanted them all in him already. Not his cock, not yet, he didn't feel ready for that today, and he knew Dean was aware of his limit, the total invasion that would make him a victim once again.
But he wanted all the rest, to feel full with Dean's fingers, leaving behind the fears and the loneliness, a contact so tight and close that no one else could come between them.
"Get another one in !" he ordered, and Dean obliged.
Maybe it was too early and Dean should have worked him open longer before he ventured with a second digit, but Sam loved it. He surrendered to Dean's heated kisses, let Dean's tongue make love to his and enter his mouth in the same dance the fingers were enacting deep inside him. But two soon didn't seem enough anymore, and Sam begged for a third one.
Dean granted his wish, adding the third finger, and not long after a fourth one, without any prompting this time. Sam tried to push back against the fingers to get them further in and at the same time up against Dean's cock to enhance the frottage. He felt so uncoordinated, but Dean didn't fare that much better, close to losing it, or so he said.
"Now, Sam, now, you got to let go… won't be able to last much longer !"
It felt too good to let it go, but then Sam's body betrayed him, exploding in delightful waves and sparks of pleasure at the next touch of Dean's fingers against his prostate. A few seconds later, a splash of come against his belly brought him back to the world, and then Dean moved away, slowly slipping next to him to lie on his back.
Breathing laborious, they took the time to calm down. Sam was the first one to move, taking one of the soft vegetal towels he had weaved for this purpose to clean them both of the come staining them before he turned towards Dean and brought his arm around his waist. In return, Dean encircled his shoulders and brought him closer.
"I love to see you getting so much better."
Which meant I love you in Dean speak. Sam didn't really mind that his brother had a hard time saying words of love. Translation was easy when your lover kept his arms tight around you and looked at you as if you were the eighth wonder of his world.
"I love you too," he answered, and Dean closed his eyes.
Sam didn't mind Dean's inability to take words of love at face value either.
He knew he was loved, unconditionally. Verbal appreciation wasn't needed. He would enjoy it, but he didn't need it. And he had the rest of their lives to get Dean to open up.
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Samuel made himself scarce in the next few weeks, spending his days out and taking his meals in his room. Everyone was quite relieved about it, if only because it meant that the frantic research to make sure he couldn't ever cast the Willis spell again, not against them anyway, was facilitated by his absence.
Castiel's help was paramount as usual. He sent Meg and Jenn looking for particular plants and items needed to create broad-effect hex bags. Bobby and Dean never missed one word of his teaching, and Sam discovered he was getting quite proficient at this too, putting his great memory and inquisitive mind to good use.
They made a break for Christmas, deciding to retain a measure of normalcy by celebrating one of the big holidays with the best menu the plateau could offer. No sturgeon caviar ? The eggs of the billo fish, bigger but so tasty, made for a good replacement. Short on the chicken breast in cream sauce and filet mignon served with mashed potatoes and asparagus tips ? The trill consommé, followed by stegosaurus steak and varied herbs, might have fooled a gourmet's palate. Lack of a three-tiered cake ? Easily remedied thanks to the frozen gunja fruits found in deep sealed caverns.
Of course, they had already decided to renew the experience on New Year's Eve, to try once again to dispel the thought of all the people who were missing them, who were probably wondering if they were still alive somewhere after so many months without news, maybe in need of help no one was able to bring them. None of the explorers could face the idea that maybe those people had given up on them, writing them all off, never to be seen again. Dead in the name of science, forgotten along the thousands and thousands of unsuccessful people, savants and researchers of all fields, who could never show to a thrilled audience the marvels and secrets they had discovered or conquered.
A joyful dinner was much needed to quell such fears, but the supernatural knocked at their door again before they had even finished the preparations.
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Jenn felt out of breath. Worse, she felt as if she couldn't breathe anymore, not enough at least to fill her lungs and survive.
She batted away Meg's arm and the hand loosely curved around her right breast. Meg turned over, facing the wall, but Jenn was still unable to move, as if a terrible weight had settled on her chest, preventing her from sitting up.
She opened her eyes to chase the nightmare away in the clear skies of a full-moon night and let out a breathless cry of shock.
"Eddy ?"
The snarling figure of her deceased husband sat upon her, crushing her ribcage with all his weight. His hands fondled her naked breast for a second, before one went to her hair, forcing her head up to reveal her throat that the other squeezed so tight she felt the last few ounces of air in her rush out through her open mouth. She couldn't even move her own arms, control lost over her limbs.
She began to black out and she knew the end had come. Eddy was here to claim her back.
A guttural cry answered that thought, and she lifted heavy eyelids to see Meg, her angel, holding a flaming torch in the place where Eddy had been seconds prior.
"Dean !" Meg yelled again and again until he appeared, gun in one hand and iron knife in the other.
Sam was right behind him, holding a slowly burning bowl of plants they had collected together, common fennel and hawthorn, exotic harish and polltta, and already reciting some invocation he had learned from Castiel.
Weakly, in the dim light of the storm lantern lit by Dean, Jenn moved to put on the colorful poncho-style shirt she had been offered by Castiel's tribe, similar to the one Meg was wearing. As the professors came in too, Meg stayed close, still freaked by what she had witnessed, her own herbal torch ready to be used again to disperse Eddy's ghost.
And then all hell let loose.
A powerful gust of wind threw everyone away save for herself. But then she felt her feet leave the floor, Eddy's powerful arms lifting her before he ran towards the elevator. She tried to take hold of the walls or anything heavy enough to stop their course until her friends could get back up and come to her rescue, but the ghost, or whatever new supernatural creature Campbell had invoked this time, was far too determined to let her go.
She wondered why the thing that wore Eddy's beloved face needed the elevator to get her out instead of simply taking the plunge towards the forest ground or disappearing and reappearing down there with her in tow. Maybe her own corporality prevented it from doing just that. Maybe it just wanted to block the others up the Tree, make them lose time calling the elevator back up and then down again to chase after them. If this was the case, it meant this ghost didn't really know Dean Winchester, who would find some other way to get down despite the great dislike of height he thought he hid so well but had been evident to Jenn since they were kids. And Meg… Meg wouldn't let her go so easily either. She had ropes stacked all around the house, ready to be thrown over the balcony to slide down to the forest ground.
For all her faith in her friends, Jenn was beginning to feel dizzy again, the arms around her back and chest squeezing too tight to let her breathe sufficiently. She needed help now, before she passed out and died, before the monster looking so much like Eddy, scratchy moustache included, took her too far for Dean and the others to find and save her.
The ghost came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the forest. Jenn willed herself to turn her head to see what was happening and she saw Castiel on Dashel - the dinosaur with the ridiculous bits of external ears that always brought a smile to her face, because no other dinosaurs of his family had anything close to it, and why was she thinking that in this terrible moment !
She was possibly delirious from the lack of air already. She shook her head several times to clear her ideas.
Cas was facing Eddy with his hand raised, chanting in his own language words that had an immediate effect on the ghost. Jenn felt the compression hurting her slowly giving, and soon she slid down to the leaf-covered ground, trying with all her might to keep track of what was happening instead of welcoming the sweet oblivion beckoning her.
She felt hands on her shoulders lifting her up to lie against the body of her lover, heard the combined voices of Sam and Bobby Singer mixing with Castiel's. She saw Dean, in a sowing-like movement, drawing a circle of plants around the ghost stuck in place by the incantation, and then setting alight the delineated perimeter at the risk of seeing the whole forest go up in flames.
She could guess that the special fire was there to contain to their plane the ghost and its unnatural power when the words changed after that, now exuding lethal aggressiveness, and Dean joined the other men to add his own power to the spell to send the spirit back where it belonged. She heard Meg behind her reciting in time with them all and Jenn fought to find her own voice, to repeat the words in her turn.
Her eyes widened as the creature began to crack and crumble, eroding from the tips of gloved fingers to the top of its head into a fine dust. It seemed to try to gather again in the form of a small tornado, but the incantation, as a barrage fire, kept the grains apart until they lost power and intent, disappearing back into the great beyond.
As soon as the ghost was over and done with, Dashel jumped and stomped on the real fire to put it out. He extinguished the last embers with his tail, making sure without any human prompting that his forest was safe after all those shenanigans.
Jenn finally felt safe enough to let herself go against Meg's soft body and close her eyes. She opened them up again only when she heard Dean's voice.
"Cas ! Thanks, man," Dean saluted the shaman, who had now dismounted, with a squeeze of his shoulder. "Glad you got our phone call."
"I do not know what a phone call is, but I didn't need it. I felt a great disturbance in the Flow and decided to patrol around the Tree, all night if needed."
"Well, thank the Flow, then ! But I wish it would get rid of this disturbance once and for all. I'm getting tired of those Willis crashing our beauty sleep."
"Tonight's ghost didn't belong to the Willis, I think. I tried a combination of anti-spells. The words that achieved sending it back to its realm came from the one against what we call LeiSh."
"LeiSh ? What are they ?"
"Spirits manifesting during sleep, sitting on your chest to stop your breath with their weight. They are also responsible for nightmares."
"We know those too in my world," Bobby said. "They're called Mara, or Mare - they ride on a person's chest when they're asleep, and they bring nightmares, hence the name. They're generally pegged for feminine spirits, though, which was clearly not the case here."
"Gender has nothing to do with any of this. Unless the one calling the LeiSh to our plane of existence expresses his clear will in this matter."
This seemed to remind Dean of Jenn's encounter with the phantom of her dead husband. He closed the distance to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his.
"Do you feel good enough to stand ?"
She nodded her answer, letting Dean and Meg help her up. Then she made the mistake to look him in the eye and saw the sad compassion aimed at her. She crumpled instantly.
"I can't… Dean - Eddy, he hates me, I can't live with that."
Dean closed his arms around her and pushed her face against his chest as she cried, cradling the back of her head in his hand.
"Shhh, sweetheart. He doesn't hate you. I know how much that man loved you, and it's not something death can take away. He loved you a hundred times more than he loved himself, and you know that means something with those aristocrats who all think they are the sharpest tool in the shed !"
Jenn couldn't help a laughing sob as he went on.
"So don't you worry your pretty head, and remember it's the same thing as Jess the other day, just some tricky spell perverted by my grandfather. I'm sorry he put you through this."
"Why are you still accusing me ?" Professor Campbell asked. "I was sleeping in my bedroom, I've got nothing to do with this."
"He's telling the truth, Dean," Bobby confirmed. "We were both awakened by Meg's shouts."
Jenn turned her face to the dim light of the dawn rising, gauging the professor. Dean was so tense against her chest, she didn't doubt that he didn't believe for one second in his grandfather's innocence. Her own knowledge about spells wasn't good enough to prove it, but she felt certain that if there was a way to delay a spell to make it look like you hadn't cast it, this man could find it.
"I take it this was your husband ?" Sam asked from closer than she had seen him coming while she was lost in her thoughts.
He seemed torn between the empathy he had to feel, knowing exactly what she had gone through, and the jealousy induced by seeing her in Dean's arms. She wanted to reassure him but Dean beat her to it.
"Lord Edward Shore. Upstanding guy and devoted husband. Killed in 1902 in the second Boer war."
"He didn't want to go there," Jenn reminisced, "he didn't believe in that war. We had so little precious time together."
Smoothly, Dean disentangled himself and gave his place to Meg, who took Jenn in her own arms immediately.
"Darling," Meg said, "I don't want to hurt you, but if he died at war, are you sure his body was laid to rest ?"
"Yes, I am. The war was over by the time we received the news. So my parents, Dean, and I, we travelled down to South Africa and brought his body back with us."
"I checked," Dean added. "It was definitely Edward, and I made sure no funny stuff was used to embalm his body and that his organs were cremated. He now rests in a peaceful place, in the cemetery of the village where he was born. In a coffin protected by the most powerful sigils."
"Why didn't you have him entirely cremated ?" Bobby wondered.
"Because Edward didn't want it," Jenn said, "and I asked Dean to respect his wishes and find the next best solution."
"So that's it ?" Meg insisted. "Jess and Edward, they were just freaky incidents and we can now sleep soundly ?"
"Well, I'm not sold on the incident theory," Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "First thing I saw when I came in was that the hex bags in your room have disappeared, which seems to prove me right. Do you have something to say about this, Samuel ?"
"Again with that ?! I already told you I was asleep."
Everybody was looking at the professor with suspicion, including Castiel.
"Even if I was able to cast such a spell," Campbell continued, "then why would I try to get a man back ? You heard the shaman, he said it himself."
"That's not exactly what I said," Castiel denied. "You're misinterpreting my words on purpose."
Jenn turned away from the men's quarrel, too conflicted and rattled with her own anguished thoughts.
She had deeply loved two men in her life, two worth mentioning among the ones who had played a part in her love life as an adult woman most men seemed to find pretty and reasonably pleasant and entertaining.
Edward, the first, had been her everything. He had taught her love, had given her such happiness she thought unattainable on this planet. His death had taken it all away.
Dean, her best friend of many years, for all his love had made her feel incomplete in his unending quest for his lost brother, like she would never be enough for someone else than her dead husband. Like her life was already over somehow before she was even 25 years old.
Now she had Meg, and she didn't dare to get too attached. What if they found a way back home ? What of them if Meg decided to remain on the plateau where she had lived most of her life ? How could Jenn survive another loss of such magnitude, even with Dean by her side to console her ? Dean who now had Sam and didn't confide in her that much anymore. Who would want to live with Sam and offer him the world, follow all the dreams he had entertained for years.
She had to be brave and live from day to day, until she regained her bearings. Make the best of this situation and enjoy life.
The life she had been so close to losing.
She turned to the shaman, rudely interrupting Professor Campbell without a smidgen of remorse.
"Thank you, Castiel. I don't know where I'd be without you."
"You're welcome," he answered casually. "Now, will you explain to me what a phone call is ?"
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Dean knew he had to take measures to protect everyone better than they had done so far. Sam still wasn't entirely convinced that their grandfather was guilty but Dean didn't have any doubt, and it needed to stop now, before someone got badly wounded or killed.
He arranged to get away with Bobby for a little while to talk about the problem at hand, meeting with Cas in the forest. He preferred to leave Sam out of the loop for the moment, up until he could prove Samuel's guilt to him without the slightest possibility of error.
"There's no way it's not him," Bobby approved when Dean told him why Sam wasn't with them. "Each creature that keeps appearing, he talks about in his journal. I read this old grimoire, a long time ago, and Castiel telling us yesterday about the LeiSh jogged my memory : this last spirit, that we call Mare in English, is the equivalent of the Sarramauca from Occitania. I think Campbell used lesser-known names in his journal, mainly to protect himself and his research, in case someone found it and managed to translate his code. That's why we had a hard time understanding what he was looking for when we deciphered the Sarramauca word in the middle of seemingly generic spells and other topics."
"You could have told me that to convince me, you know."
Everybody turned, startled, to look at Sam standing a few feet away.
"If you don't want me to follow you," Sam added for his brother and Bobby as he approached the circle of conspirators, "try to act less cagey and more natural."
Dean recovered first.
"I don't want to force you into actions you don't approve of. You'd be a liability. You could get killed."
"The only way for me to be a liability," Sam countered with a frown and a stormy tone, "is if I'm kept apart. I need to know everything to make the right decisions and defend us against danger. I need to play my part, just like you."
The brothers' wills fought and clashed for a moment through intense stares, until Dean capitulated, relieved to have his brother back at his side.
"Alright. Do you believe now that Samuel is the one behind the apparitions ?"
"Before you answer that," Bobby intervened, "you should know that even if Campbell was indeed there with us this time, all the hex bags we stocked, all around the house, and that Castiel had created for us, have now disappeared. I can't imagine anyone other than him having a reason to do that. He didn't do anything to help us stop the Sarramauca. It seems to me it all adds up."
"So," Dean repeated, "do you believe me ?"
"I do. Now what are we gonna do about it ? We don't have the luxury of a prison to throw him in and guards to keep him and make sure he won't get the ingredients to cast any more spells."
"Simple," Bobby said. "We have to create a global protective counter-spell that will keep everything at bay. One that Campbell doesn't know about and has no way to dismantle."
"Don't forget it should also be long-lasting," Castiel reminded him, as if the task wasn't daunting enough already.
December 28th
We had a new surprise last night : Jenn's late husband paid us a visit and tried to kill her.
First a Willis, now a Sarramauca. A mare. No one remarked about it, but that Professor Campbell named his dinosaur Mare now makes even more sense. I thought at first it was short for Mary, his beloved daughter, but I'm pretty sure it also means that his plan for using a mare spell was already in place before we headed for the mine. Possibly much longer than that, before we ever got on the plateau.
Who was he trying to summon this time ? A man, certainly. Whoever was the intended target, poor Jenn almost paid the ultimate price. Hearing about the sad ending to her love story with Edward Shore makes me want to cling to Dean and protect him. He deserves all the best in the world and I will do anything to give it to him.
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Castiel had been warned that one of the male all-dressed foreigners was waiting for him at the entrance of the village, which was a curious attitude. Dean was usually the one visiting him, with a reason or not to do so, and he was now far past the time when he still asked permission to go through the village to find him. Everyone was used to him and most enjoyed his quirky and irreverent personality. Those who did not were generally too stunned by his whirlwind moods to say something, and too respectful of Castiel to demand that his foreigner friend be forbidden access.
Probably Sam then, or maybe Professor Singer. Hopefully Dean wasn't sick and in need of Castiel's healing knowledge.
But it was Professor Campbell waiting for him. Castiel hadn't seen him since Dean had accused his much-despised grandfather of summoning Jenn's dead husband and, unless he could use the opportunity to find out something interesting about the professor's scheme, he wasn't sure how he felt about socializing with this man whose moral compass seemed to lead him down a road Castiel heartily disapproved of.
Still, there was only one reason he could imagine why Samuel Campbell would visit him.
"Did something happen to Dean ?" Castiel asked.
He had the distinct impression that the other man altered his next words because of his question.
"In fact, yes. We were visiting a cavern closer to here than the Tree when Dean slipped and broke his arm. I'm not a doctor, that's why I thought about you. I'm sure your talents will be much more useful than mine."
"Very well. Let me get my medicine and we'll go there immediately."
Castiel was ready in less than five minutes. He wondered about the professor's honesty but found he couldn't take the risk to leave Dean unattended if indeed he was wounded.
Back at the village's entrance, Samuel held out a hand for Castiel to ride behind him on his dinosaur's back. Castiel didn't accept before he looked Mare right in the eye - the animal had a fierce temper, Castiel had seen her throw her rider down on two occasions when he was being what Dean would call an ass, and the professor had said she was just as recalcitrant as his late daughter - and he felt it was safe to climb on her back.
"I'm surprised Dean and you decided to spend time together, especially these days," Castiel mused as they were making their way to the cavern.
"We figured we couldn't let all this animosity grow any more between us. We're family. We have to find a way to live together."
"That's very mature of you both. I'm still surprised, but glad for this turn of events. Family is very important to Dean."
He received no answer and the trip went on without any other exchange, not even one of those meaningless conversations so many men and women were fond of.
They dismounted at the cavern's entrance and Campbell led the way, their hesitant and stumbling steps along the gravel-cluttered ground of the tunnel eased by the light of day on one end and the artificial kind glowing irregularly where it turned into a cavern.
"Samuel !" Dean's angry voice resounded, echoed through the tunnel. "You let me go right now, you hear me, or God help me, I won't have a grandfather anymore by the time I'm out of here !"
"What is this ?" Castiel stopped and asked.
"He's pissed I forced him to stay here and wait till I got help. Come, he will be happy to see you."
It was very untoward that his significant friendship with Dean pushed him to go on as requested, instead of turning back to get help when all his being urged him to do so. But Castiel had ceased trying to understand what made Dean Winchester such a fascinating character, one he was prepared to do anything for.
He continued walking down the tunnel behind the professor.
The man-made light became much more efficient as they approached their goal and soon they entered the cavern Castiel had visited more than once, walls painted yellow and red by the dancing flames of the torches animating the ancient drawings made by faraway ancestors of the plateau's tribes. Campbell went directly to Dean and pulled without concern on his left arm that Dean kept bent and close to his body. The right one was already pulled over his head, wrist encircled in a strange bracelet tied to its twin, looped around a hole in the rock.
"You bastard !" Dean accused his grandfather, while gritting his teeth in pain, "I told you not to involve him in our quarrel."
"And I told you to stay put, but I see you managed to detach your ankles. Now Dean, this is not a very polite welcome for our friend who came all this way to heal you."
"I am not a magician," Castiel saw fit to clarify. "But I can reset your fracture and help with the pain."
"I can take the pain, Cas, but I don't want him to take advantage of you."
"How would he ?"
That made the professor laugh.
"Don't think I haven't seen the way you look at him. I know you don't want me to harm Dean any more, so do as I say."
Troubled by the cryptic sentence, Castiel nodded and walked to the makeshift table indicated by Samuel Campbell, taking in the ingredients at his disposal. They were not made to heal a fracture or ease pain.
"What do you want me to do ?"
"I figured that my many theoretical disputes with Professor Singer might as well serve a greater purpose. You see, the dear professor believes in the inherent goodness of shamans and their goodwill towards their tribes. I maintain this is all sorcery and imposture, that shamanism is just as much these people's opium as any other religion, the way to keep them in line by telling them this is how nature and the world goes, accept it or die. Or be cast away. But I'm a scientist, and nothing is sure until it's been proven right or wrong. If Singer is persuaded that, as a shaman, you have direct access to special currents of life and death, then I owe it to science to test his theory. Therefore, you are going to work in my place this time, read the spell written on the paper and summon my dear son-in-law, the not-quite-missed John Winchester."
"So you admit it, it was you again summoning Edward," Dean raged. "I swear as soon as I'm free, I'm gonna hunt you like any demon I've ever sent back to hell."
"Stop bragging, Dean. You're not scary, just really tiring."
"Don't worry, you won't have to suffer me much longer."
"You're right about this, but I doubt we imagine the same ending to our little social event. Come on, Castiel, do not make Dean wait any longer. Bring his dear daddy here to us and let's be witnesses to the touching reunion !"
Castiel knew Dean had been wondering about his grandfather's wish to travel but he could now see the older man had been able to find through the plateau the most used ingredients for his plans and then some, along with the paraphernalia needed to cast spells. Save for one thing.
"I need blood," he said, foolishly hoping this would delay the inevitable.
"I know," Campbell answered, and then Castiel heard Dean try to suppress a grunt of pain.
He turned hastily to see that the professor had cut a deep and long incision on Dean's already broken arm and was collecting the dripping blood in a small cup. Castiel went to his friend in two rapid steps and knelt down in front of him.
"You need to let me take care of him. A fracture can be very dangerous if it touched an artery or if it becomes infected."
"He would be dead already if an artery had been nicked, instead of abusing my ears with his witless jibes. Now the quicker you're done with the spell, the quicker you'll be able to see to him. So take the blood and do your job. And don't pretend you don't know how. I've heard you talk with Dean and Sam. Heard how a descendant's blood is sure to make for the best spell casting."
Indeed they had broached the topic, wondering if Campbell's intention was to use his own blood to summon his daughter, and Castiel had been fool enough to reveal that children's blood always worked better.
"There's always a chance a spell won't work," he warned to compensate his earlier blunder.
Not much chance for it to fail ; Castiel indeed enjoyed a direct connection to the life's essence imbuing the primeval forest, one that was much more powerful than anything Samuel Campbell could ever match, closed off as he was to his surroundings by his foolish quest, and it was very bad luck that he proved still smart enough to realize the faulty ingredient of his spells might have been himself all along.
"Then Dean here will not see tomorrow dawning on this fine plateau," Campbell answered. "Better be at the top of your game, shaman."
Castiel then knew he had no choice but to obey. He mixed the ingredients, the way he had learned from his master but never got to do before, connected with the Flow then chanted the sacred words that would open the great beyond to their earthly realm, and called for Dean's father in the words chosen by the professor. Eyes closed, he didn't stop until he heard his friend's voice behind him, shocked and higher than usual.
"Dad ? Mom ?"
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Dean had been gone for more than three hours and Sam couldn't find him. It was not like his brother to disappear like that since Sam had insisted on being a part of their little cabal ; Sam was officially worried. Bordering on panicking.
And the professor was missing too. Sam could imagine all sorts of scenarios and none of them ended well. He wasn't even sure if these images in his head were only his imagination or something else, something more for which he didn't have a name. All of them featured Dean injured and needing Sam's help as soon as possible.
It was worse as he heard Buck, Impala and the other dinosaurs - including Dashel, even though Castiel wasn't visiting - waiting for them down by the Tree's foot, making enough of a ruckus to attract someone's attention. Mare's absence was conspicuous and foreboding.
They were all galloping and leaping in the time it took everyone to get down the Tree and straddle their mounts. Sam didn't stop worrying. Even if the dinosaurs had felt Dean's need for help immediately, there was no telling where they were at that moment and how long it had taken them to join the explorers. Maybe they were already too late.
"Looks like we're heading towards Guy's village," Meg remarked with an encouraging smile for Jenn when they stepped out into the meadow leading to the village. "I'm sure he and Castiel took care of him. Don't worry."
Sam didn't contradict her, although Dashel's presence proved that Castiel wasn't there waiting for them. But then the dinosaurs turned and rushed along the forest's edge in the opposite direction, leaving the village further behind by the minute.
"I know where we're going !" Meg realized when they disappeared into the primeval forest once again. "The cavern. It's been used by shamans for centuries to perform secret ceremonies."
Samuel Campbell and secret ceremonies mixed together didn't bode well in Sam's book. He pushed Buck to run faster and the dinosaur answered immediately, second only to Impala in the race to get to Dean.
He felt relieved when he finally saw Mare, waiting in front of the entrance to the cavern. More than dismounting, he leaped from Buck's back and entered the tunnel, too small for dinosaurs to come and help, without even waiting to see if the others followed. Five steps in, Bobby's hand on his shoulder slowed him down.
"Be silent," Bobby ordered. "We don't know what's happening in here, we might need the element of surprise."
Annoyed, he still agreed with the need to use his head instead of letting his feelings for Dean make the situation possibly worse.
They crept along the uneven tunnel, slowly but silently, until they reached a huge room lit by dozens of torches disposed all around the walls, no doubt the secret place Meg had talked about. Castiel was there in front of an altar carved in the rock a long time ago, officiating the ceremony.
Dean was there, too, closely watched by Samuel. His left arm was bent at a strange angle and the view pushed a cold shiver down Sam's back ; it was just the exact scene he had pictured earlier in his head. Dean's other arm was chained to the wall - probably the remnant of the sacrifices offered in the past by Castiel's ancestors - another image that had made Sam reel with worry.
Before he could show himself and run to his brother's aid, Dean's voice rose, reverberating against the walls and high ceiling.
"Dad ? Mom ?"
Incredulous, Sam followed Dean's eyes to where two shimmering silhouettes had appeared, getting denser by the second.
He didn't recognize either of them but something deep inside of himself told him they were familiar.
"Dean," the woman said with so much fondness that tears prickled Sam's eyes.
But it was nothing next to the hammering of his heart when she turned to him.
"Sam, you found your way back to your brother."
"Of course he did," the man next to her asserted, "he's a Winchester."
His parents were standing here in front of him, gentle apparitions at last, and Sam couldn't speak to save his life. All he could do was walk into the cavern to stand by Dean, slide his fingers around his brother's bound hand to anchor himself and help Dean just the same. The move seemed to wake Samuel up from his trance-like state, allowing his legs to take him closer to the revenants.
"Mary ? Sweetheart ? Don't you see me ?"
The ghost turned to Samuel, expression guarded.
"I see you, Father."
"Mary, you have no idea… I've been searching for you for such a long time. I've gone all over the world, tried everything I could think of, and now… now I can't believe you're finally here, back with me."
It was the strangest feeling for everyone present to see the hard, no-nonsense man suddenly on the verge of tears.
"You knew I was dead. I was resting, content in my life in heaven."
"But you had been torn away from us too soon. Your time hadn't come, you shouldn't have died ! Why didn't you come to me ? I would have protected you from him."
Campbell didn't even look at John.
"I didn't need protection from my husband, as you're well aware. You were the only reason our lives went wrong ; you and your doubts about John's fidelity, your never-ending questioning about the way he treated me, your cursed artifacts that you said were to protect me but just made me crazy with anguish and fear. I let myself fall for your tricks and I paid the price. We all paid the price, my children more than anyone else !"
Mary's eyes looked like they were going to throw fire at Samuel.
"The way you treated my boy, Father, I will never be able to forgive you."
"He's the demon spawn, Mary !"
"No child of mine has ever deserved such a designation. Dean proved it when he dedicated his life to saving people. Can you say the same about yourself ? Have you ever shown him any kindness that would make me feel indulgent towards you ? You, his flesh and blood. And Sam ? You found him and yet you kept him in the dark, prevented him from being reunited with his family. And you wonder why I never wanted to appear to you !"
Realization hit Samuel and his face turned ashen. He had been so close, probably more than once, but Mary had refused to show up until her boys really needed her.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't plan to hurt him, but he was there, and you were dead. I couldn't… seeing him was a constant reminder of your death. Why did it have to be you ?! It should have been him ! Not you, not my sweet little girl !"
"Your sweet little girl was a grown woman who thought of her sons exactly the way you did about her. You should have known that and protected Dean. Strangers were kinder to both my boys than their own grandfather."
"I only knew that your married life was a constant suffering next to this man."
"By your own doing. John loved me, and I made his life hell by listening to you. We were happy before you interfered."
"You left me. Deanna was dead, but still you moved to England, far from me, and I was so alone. Every time I asked you to visit, you said you didn't have time. I had to come to you, again and again. You were forgetting me."
"I was taking care of my family. Making sure my boys didn't feel left behind like I did when I was a child and you kept traveling around the country, constantly leaving Mother and I alone for months on end without news. I guess payback is your karma in this life already."
Samuel took a deep breath of air as if in need of fortitude.
"Do you know how I managed to get you back ? I used many spells combined, but the main one is called To appease souls in pain. You can't tell me this isn't a proof that you've been suffering all this time."
"My only suffering comes from you, Father. From seeing my sons apart, grieving alone. You could have ended this years ago."
John put his arm around her shoulders and looked at his sons.
"We're so happy you two found each other again, that you're not alone anymore and that you love each other so much despite all the time you spent separated," he added.
"Why am I not surprised ?" Campbell snarled. "You were always a deviant yourself."
"That's enough !" Mary intimated. "You managed to drive us apart in real life, you won't try this again now, and you won't do it to our boys, whatever false assumptions you're operating under. Let them be happy, Father, and let us do the same in our afterlife."
"They are lovers, Mary ! They sleep with each other, have intercourse, shamelessly defying all taboos known to mankind. They are the worst abomination one can think of."
"Do you really believe that this kind of thing takes on the slightest shred of importance once you're dead ? We only see the love shining from them both, for each other and their friends. You should have been a part of this ongoing flow, but you chose to remain apart willingly. You let your heart become black and shriveled in the depths of hell. I fear there's no hope left for you, Father."
Samuel felt everyone's eyes landing heavily on him at the revelation of his trip to hell. Something he had made sure to keep a secret because Mary was right to think he had been forever altered by the dreadful experience he had voluntarily sought to gain knowledge and power. To get Mary back.
He heard Castiel mumbling some chants in his own language and suddenly felt himself pushed against the rock face, unable to articulate one more word.
Mary and John floated towards their sons, lifting their hands to their faces for a ghostly caress. Both Dean and Sam swallowed hard under this sign of love.
"We have little time," John lamented, "and so much to tell you. Dean, you were right to believe in me. In your mother and me. We loved each other, we were just stupid enough to let someone with a grudge come between us."
"I know you thought many times that I had abandoned you voluntarily," Mary continued, "but nothing is further from the truth. I had been targeted by one of my father's cursed objects, and then Sam was hurt by it. I know now that it was all part of his plan to get me to leave John, but I was mad with worry after Sam had been wounded, and I acted harshly, taking the first opportunity to disappear to put him out of danger while John and you had been gone for a father-son hunting trip. I knew you were safe with him, that's the only reason I left you behind. But believe me when I tell you it was my deepest desire to go back and get you too."
"She's telling the truth, son," John confirmed. "We were both pretty miserable examples of parents to leave you alone with Samuel, but never would I have guessed he would treat you that way."
Dean slowly nodded and cleared his throat.
"I believe you," he said, his hand squeezing Sam's tight without realizing it when Mary gave him another caress before she turned to her second son.
"I know what you heard those social workers say, Sammy, and how it stuck with you. But you have to know that I wasn't out to whore myself when I got killed by that carriage. Nor did I try to abandon you too."
Dumbfounded, Sam stared at the shimmery form that was supposed to be his mother. He had never told that to anyone, too ashamed and too young to be able to refute those nasty rumors the men who had come to take him at Ellie's request had spread with such glee, such wrong delight.
"I was looking for a job to feed us both, and then I was dead. Of course, the papers I had with me mentioned my real name, not the one I was hiding under. Nobody ever made the connection between Mary Winchester and Mary Wesson, not even when they found a little boy named Sam Wesson crying for his mama, alone in an apartment. I'm so very thankful Ellie took you in and adopted you, that she gave you the love I couldn't."
Sam felt tears spill from his eyes. He smiled to his mother. At least he tried, just like he tried to answer with an I love you of his own.
"We have to go back now," John said, turning to the other people in the cavern. "Thanks to all of you for helping our sons and being their friends and support."
Mary smiled her thanks to them, and then looked at her father one last time.
"Don't summon us back again, Father. We only came today to make sure you won't hurt anyone else with your foolish plans."
"Bye, boys. Remember, we love you both."
John and Mary retreated silently to the end of the cavern, becoming more transparent and fluid as they neared the wall, and then disappeared into it.
A loaded, heavy silence ended this overwhelming experience. Sam crouched down next to Dean, hiding himself against his brother's neck and forgetting about his broken arm until a pained grunt reminded him of it. He modified his position but stayed where he was, too much in need of comfort and a link to his only love to give it up. He was not above abusing the opportunity offered by Dean being chained to the wall.
But then he was kind of forced back to the moment by Bobby's hand landing on his shoulder.
"We've got to take care of Dean. Let him go, son."
Reluctantly, he sat back and wiped his leaky nose and teary eyes. He realized that Castiel had worked on Dean's chain while he was crying his heart out and freed him.
"Dean," Castiel asked, "what do we do with him ?"
He was of course talking about Samuel, still tied to the wall by invisible restraints.
Dean assessed his grandfather for a long while, weighing his hate for the man against the terrible blow he had just been dealt by his own daughter. Hopefully, today's lesson would serve him right.
"Let him go," he sighed.
He just wanted all this to be over, to live happily with Sam in their shared knowledge that they had been loved by their parents as much as they loved each other now. He felt like he had gone ten rounds against a heavyweight champion. He needed to sleep it off and forget the pain in his arm. Tomorrow, he would see to it that Samuel was taken care of once and for all.
Preferably cast away, far from them all. Let him find some village to take him in, where he would be seen as the leader and hero he'd like to be.
But no, they couldn't do that. They needed all the help they could get, especially now with his own broken arm, and certainly they couldn't afford to lose someone as erudite as Samuel. Untrustworthy, sure, but a definite source of knowledge that would be sorely missed if they sent him away.
In the end, Samuel made the decision for them all. As soon as he was freed, he marched to the rucksack he had stashed behind the altar and took a gun out of it that he pointed towards the rest of the group.
"I think it's time for me to take my leave. All of you, get behind Dean and turn towards the wall. Alright, kneel now, head on the floor and hands on your head. Good."
Dean didn't move. He eyed Samuel with contempt.
"If you choose to abandon us now, don't ever come back. And rest assured that be it here or if we ever make it back home, you better make yourself scarce, dear grandfather, because your ass is mine. I don't care about the way you treated me but you put Sam's life in jeopardy, not to mention Jenn's, and there's no forgiving this."
Campbell didn't bother gratifying him with a response. He got inside the tunnel before he lighted a match to set the oil he had previously poured on the ground aflame and then ran. Hopefully, by the time the others had gotten their bearings back and found their way out once the oil had finished burning, he would be far away.
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The girls rode immediately back to the Tree, to make sure Samuel wouldn't be able to steal their rifles or any other stuff they desperately needed.
Castiel stayed long enough to set Dean's fracture and bandage it, then followed Jenn and Meg to offer his help in case Samuel created trouble.
Finally, Bobby and Sam supported Dean out of the cavern, back to Impala who was waiting for him right at the entrance, impatient and almost angry to be left to her worries for so long. Dean took his time comforting her.
"It's all right, baby. Just a little wound, nothing serious."
The dinosaur crooned, showering Dean with love and affection by caressing her head against his. She really seemed to understand the problem and showed it a few minutes later by sitting on the ground to make it easier for Dean to climb on her back and then strolling leisurely back to the Tree.
Still, both Sam and Bobby kept close and ready to do whatever necessary to ensure his safe return home without looking like they tried too hard.
"I read the notes Campbell gave Castiel," Bobby said. "As far as I can tell, the spell was mainly a combination of the previous ones he used to get the Willis and the Sarramauca to appear. He finally found the way to make them work for his real goal."
"Mostly, he realized Castiel had a far bigger talent than him at casting spells !" Dean ironized. "But there's worse."
Bobby and Sam watched him in dismay.
"Samuel got his journal back," Dean announced. "I saw it in his bag."
"Maybe you mistook another journal for the one you stole ?" Sam dared to hope.
"No, it was the one, same bits torn and stained. We lost our only advantage, and now Samuel's in the wind, free to do anything he wants."
"Don't fret too much about the journal," Bobby advised him in a tone that tried hard not to appear too smug but utterly failed. "Why do you think I needed so many sheets of paper and pencils ? I made copies of every single mark and scratch drawn on that damn journal, and I hid them well."
Bobby's words lifted the mood quite a bit.
The journey back to the Tree lasted more than an hour at this slow pace. They were greeted with pleasure by their friends at home, reassured that nothing had been stolen and they were safe. Castiel had even prepared a decoction of herbs for Dean in order to lower the pain and help his swift recovery.
"Dean, how do you feel ?"
It was clear to anyone else that the question meant to ask about his physical state but Dean was far past this.
"Pissed !" he answered, but then Castiel's narrowed eyes helped him realize he was off the mark. "You mean about…" he added, looking at his cradled arm for the first time. "A broken arm !" he pestered. "I'm going to be useless for a month. Shit !"
Sam thought it was time to intervene. He brought his mouth to Dean's ear.
"One month for me to take my time with you," he murmured. "One month to learn and love your body. One perfect month."
He ended his suggestion with a kissing caress of his lips, a slow glide across Dean's neck that resulted in a whimper that had nothing to do at last with pain.
January 1st
A new year is dawning, blessed by the apparition of my parents.
I truly feel different right now. Empowered, rooted. I still have so many questions, and I want to kick myself for being unable to say anything when I had the chance. My only relief is to know that Dean didn't fare better than me, just as speechless and overwhelmed. He still is. I need to talk about all of this but he's closed off. Hopefully time will help.
I still don't understand what our grandfather was trying to achieve. Hold John hostage to force Mary to appear ? Capture her then and trap her soul to our plane ? Dean says that spirits forced to stay in this realm turn vengeful. The professor cannot want this, not for the daughter he pretends to love so much. What is he going after ?
Are we still in danger ?
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Now that they were peacefully lying in bed against each other, sleep proved elusive.
"What did Samuel tell you to get you to that cavern ?" Sam finally asked. "Without any back-up !"
To say that Sam was mildly pissed at his brother for this stupid stunt would equate saying that he liked the idiot a little bit.
Huge understatement.
"Nothing. I saw him get away and I wanted to know what he was doing, maybe make sure he wasn't preparing another underhand trick."
"And what about your arm ? Did he break it ?"
Dean squirmed for a few seconds under Sam's glare.
"Dean ? Now is the right time to come clean. Tell me."
"He got a gun on me, okay ? And I tried to take it, but he twisted my arm, and it broke. End of story."
"What's so terrible about that ? What ? Are you just ashamed that he had the upper hand in a fair fight ?"
"He's over sixty, Sam ! He shouldn't have bested me."
Dean's pout was kind of adorable, but Sam didn't want to absolve him too soon.
"So you're not sorry that you did this without me, you're merely shameful he bested you."
"You got it."
Sam let out a sigh of exasperation to mark his frustration with his brother's priorities.
"Do you know what Mom and Samuel meant when they talked about hell ? Had you ever heard about that ?"
"Nope. But that explains a lot."
"I guess… you think he really went to hell, whatever that means ?"
"I do, and I'm not sure why I never thought about it before. It makes so much sense, not only in his fucked-up quest, but also considering the way he treated us all. Like there was no place in his heart for anything other than his obsession with Mom. I imagine that's hell at work. Truth be told, I almost feel sorry for him."
Silence enveloped the bedroom again but they still wouldn't fall asleep.
"So how many times did you go to Africa ?" Sam wondered aloud, changing the subject and still bummed by what he had learned recently about Dean and Jenn's story.
"Twice, why ?"
"Just wanted to get my timeline right."
"I went first with Jenn, Jody and Sean. Jenn and I, we fell in love with so many places, so we decided to go back once she felt she had grieved enough, stuck on her domain. She shocked quite a few people, fresh widow going on such a trek with only a male friend !"
Dean laughed at the memory, but it was short-lived, sadness over the remembrance of Edward's death and what it had done to Jenn written all over his face.
"Is that when you became lovers ? Down in Africa ?"
"You never let it go, do you ?" Dean marveled with a smirk at Sam's determination to know everything about Dean's past, and especially his love affair with his best friend. "We stayed there for more than a year, traveling from one country to another, north to south, east to west, and lots of locals were welcoming and thankful after we had rid them of their supernatural foils so there was no reason really to hurry up. Somewhere down the road, our relationship changed. It was beautiful and very loving, but not something destined to live on once we got back home."
"Yet you gave her one year of your life."
"It's not even a tenth of what I gave to find you."
Sam turned his head to find Dean looking at his lips with insistence. He leaned and kissed him.
"I would have gone to hell and back to find you," Dean said against his mouth. "And it doesn't even scare me to find I can be so much like Samuel."
It hadn't escaped Sam's notice that even while talking about what had transpired thanks to their parents' visit, Dean still hadn't volunteered any thought or feeling about them. But Sam wasn't afraid. Dean needed time to process, and so did he.
Sooner or later, alone together, deep in the forest or surrounded by the dark of night, Dean would confide, and Sam would be there to listen. He planned to be there forever anyway.
------FIN------
Continue to The lost daughter notes