Dean Winchester's extraordinary adventures 3
The good surprise is that the pterosaur is waiting for them in her nest.
"Hey, girl," Dean tells her once more as he approaches, because why change something that worked the first time.
The bird coos, there's no other word about it, when Dean begins to stroke her long neck.
After a few moments, Dean moves to stroke her back, get her used to the feeling of his body around her. He's probably going too fast, but something tells him he needs to hurry, to get back to Sam, so he jumps the gun by literally jumping on her back.
"Mr. Winchester ! Be careful !" Davies warns him once again.
The pterosaur is not happy, that's the least he can say. She bucks and leaps to try and dislodge him, but he's not having any of it. He holds on for dear life until the moment she understands she'd better accept and go with it.
"That's it, sweetheart. Now take me home !"
He tightens his thighs around the body and she seems to understand his intention. Her wings spread open and she leaps into the air, high above the trees, before Dean has time to remember how much he hates that feeling.
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"Now I get why Azazel said not to trust you !" Rubis confronts Asmodée. "Turn it off !"
Asmodée sits up straighter, menacing.
"Certainly not. Azazel might be stupid enough to want Lucifer back, but I'm not. The boy dies today."
Stupidity is contagious, or so it seems when Rubis launches herself at him. She's no match to his power, and she knows it.
But she holds her own, coming back to scratch him every time he pushes her away with a punch. Winchester's ongoing screams of pain boost her, proving he's still alive and she still has a chance to salvage Azazel's plan.
She's a fool, and he takes great pleasure in demonstrating it, throwing her around the room like a ragdoll. Her hat is dangling from her hair, bun more than messy holding on with just one long hairpin, and Asmodée is tempted to use it on her just like Azazel planted his demonic needle in Winchester's brain.
But this one will kill her if he wants, just like he's going to kill the Winchester boy as soon as he's done with Rubis.
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He's done his best not to squeeze the bird's neck too hard. He's kept his eyes closed for most of the ride, and took great care to keep them at roof level every time he opened them to make sure they were going the right way. If he looks down in the street, he's pretty sure his breakfast is going to make a comeback, as well as all the beef jerky he's been munching on along with the president's dog.
It's a good thing that the Jardin des Plantes is not really far from the apartment on Rivoli Street, especially by air. The pterosaur and Dean are soon landing on the building's roof.
"Stay here !" Dean orders, and she seems to get it.
He finds a bull's-eye and breaks the glass to get into the building.
That's when he hears the screams.
The voice he would recognize anywhere, anytime. It makes him run without checking for danger or coming up with a plan. He kicks the door open and finds that joke of a hunter who had him arrested in a rather intense fisticuffs with a woman. Bobby and Donatello are lying on the floor, hopefully still alive, and Dean can hear Sam's screams growing weaker, as if the pain is killing him.
He needs to get to his brother, but when he steps further into the room, the hunter turns toward him and his eyes glow yellow !
"Heel !" Saint Hubert orders his dogs just before they're going to throw themselves at Dean.
The woman is in bad shape but she's still moving, and the demon, who is so unlike any other Dean's ever seen that he feels he's grasping at straws, turns back to ensure she's not a threat, long enough that Dean is able to run and get the Colt they keep in a drawer.
The confrontation is short. As soon as he sees the special weapon Dean is holding, Asmodée de Saint Hubert freezes. Dean shoots, right in his forehead. The demon looks poleaxed and then short electric lightning, born inside his skull, travel through his body as the same time as tiny explosions rattle his whole frame. A few seconds later, the meatsuit falls to the floor.
Dean doesn't spare another glance to him before he sprints to the bedroom. The dogs bare their teeth at him but they let him pass, as if their master's order was still valid. He finds Sam lying in bed naked, hands gripping his head like he's trying to take it off to stop hurting. The woman kneels at his side, seizing the huge key attached to Sam's forehead.
Dean raises the Colt without thinking, ready to kill her too to prevent her from harming Sam. But then she turns the key to the right and Sam stops screaming at last.
The key falls on the bed next to Sam and Dean snatches it, still aiming at the woman.
"Who are you ?" he asks, harshly.
"Don't shoot me !" she cries, terrified. "I'm just a cancan dancer. My name's Violette Duval. I was in the car with Senator Devereaux when the dinosaur attacked. I survived the fall into the Seine, but then that freak you just killed kidnapped me. I don't even know why. I don't understand what's going on."
She bursts into tears and Dean is almost willing to believe her. After all, she saved Sammy.
"But you knew what to do with my brother ? How did you know ?"
She sniffles hard and then manages to explain.
"I saw the hunter turn the key, and then the young man began screaming. I don't know, it seemed the logical thing to do, turning it the other way."
Dean hesitates. She's right, why would Asmodée kidnap her ? Unless she knows something, maybe thanks to Devereaux - a French former hunter Dean met more than once - but doesn't realize it.
Groans are heard from the living room where Bobby and Donatello are waking up, thank God for that ! The girl looks startled, or maybe worried, it's hard to say.
When she turns back toward Dean, her eyes are utterly black.
Violette doesn't give Dean any time to use the Colt on her. She sends him flying over the bed, thankfully far from Sam, and the gun disappears somewhere behind a chest of drawers, irretrievable in emergency.
"Dean !" Sam shouts despite his feeble voice.
Dean shakes his head to clear it, but before he can get back up, the window explodes in a flurry of glass shards and wood splinters and the pterosaur erupts in the bedroom, going straight for the cancan dancer.
Before the bird can plunge her beak into the woman's chest, a heavy black smoke escapes from Violette's mouth, and then her body falls to the floor.
Dean doesn't even check if she's still alive. He kneels as gently as he can next to Sam and takes his head in his hands to take a better look at the area around the needle. It's red and puffy, but there's no damage he can see. If the key harmed Sam, it's all in his brain, and there's nothing Dean can do about it.
It's Donatello's turn to pull a miracle.
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Rubis is in the foulest mood. She liked being Violette and dancing cancan, having all the men at her feet, ready to spend fortunes on her. But the worst part is that she has to go and tell Azazel that Asmodée has tried to kill the Boy King and the Winchesters are now aware that the demons have a plan in motion. The only good part in this mess is that Asmodée's dead and won't be able to do more harm.
Rubis is so pissed that when she spots a young priest, praying in the park next to the cathedral, she descends on him and forces her way in. The poor guy doesn't stand a chance and it feels good to sully a pure soul, a servant of God.
He's called Père Thomas Grégoire, she finds out. He was ordained a few years ago, and posted here in Notre-Dame for the last two years. His biggest pleasure is to hear the organ playing, but he loves his job just as much, attending to the needs of the flock in such a gorgeous, glorious place. He knows how to use the good looks the Lord gave him to encourage women to do always more for the parish and Rubis has no doubt she'll be able to use them too for a much better purpose.
Those good looks might even mollify Azazel's temper.
"Rubis," the prince of hell says when she finally stands in front of him in her cassock, "what happened ?"
Next to Azazel, the rat Crowley raises an eyebrow and smiles in derision at her drastic change of career and sex.
"Asmodée," she answers, ignoring Crowley, "he turned on us."
"What do you mean, he turned on us ?"
"Exactly that, my Lord. We went to the Winchesters' apartment. Asmodée told me it was time to bring Samuel to us since the year was almost over. But once there, he used something he called the Saint Hubert key to try and kill the Boy King."
"Did he say why ?"
"He said… that he wasn't stupid enough to bring back Lucifer."
If demons needed air, it's probable Azazel's hand made into a fist would see to it that she couldn't breathe anymore.
"Did you stop him ?"
"I tried, I swear. But he was so much stronger than me."
"Then why are you still alive ?"
Rubis feels fear invading her whole being.
"Dean Winchester," she answers, like those two words can explain anything bad happening. "He killed Asmodée."
"How ?"
The question cracks like a whip.
"The Colt, my Lord."
Rubis waits for the next question, anxious with the risk to say the wrong thing. When it comes, she doesn't feel any better.
"So why are you still alive ?" Azazel repeats.
"I used my former body… I know Dean Winchester's reputation with women, so I used the cancan dancer's charms, and a lot of tears, and he believed me, I think. But then the pterosaur found my scent again, and my only chance was to abandon the body and find a new one."
Azazel doesn't need to know she made a mistake by not killing the two older men and that Dean would have recognized her for a demon anyway.
He really doesn't. She should keep silent and ignore the yellow stare that feels like a hand drill piercing her skull until her most intimate secrets spill, visible to all.
She falls to her knees, the pain insufferable to the point where she can't keep her screams inside anymore. And all along, she rejoices to feel the priest she's wearing screaming in terror.
If she has to die, at least she won't go alone.
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First thing Dean checks getting into the living room is the dogs, but the bird's incursion forced them to flee.
It's probably a good thing that Bobby and Donatello fell on Patmosis when they broke the glass cabinet. Dean has a feeling the demons would have destroyed the mummy, had they seen it. The guys didn't break anything vital in their fall, so it's all good.
And now that Donatello is reassured about the pterosaur happily napping on their bed, behind the bedroom's closed door, it's time to wake up the Egyptian doctor.
Sam is so weak it's breaking Dean's heart. Whatever Asmodée did to him with his big key, it sucked so much of Sam's already depleted strength that Dean would like to revive the demon and kill him again. Or maybe give the Cold to Sammy so that he could do it himself. Teaching demons a lesson about going after the Winchesters.
"I'm ready," Donatello announces.
"Can we do something ?" Bobby asks.
"Yes. When I tell you, pour the oil into the cup. Dean, you'll set it all aflame."
"What about me ?" Sam says.
"You need to be ready. If this works, there's going to be a huge transfer of energy and you don't have any to give. So concentrate on not being swept up."
"And how am I supposed to do that ?"
"Think of the things you enjoy the most in life. The people you love and don't want to lose. Keep a sense of self sufficient enough to block any leak."
"Okay, I get it. I think."
Sam looks at Dean and there's no need to say it out loud. Sam will think of him, of the life they used to have that they're both missing so damn much. He will put all his hopes for a shared future into making sure that he survives.
Donatello takes a seat in a chair in front of Sam, who's kind of sprawled on the couch. Bobby and Dean stand on either side of the pedestal table Donatello pulled next to himself, ready to do their part.
The professor starts reciting in an ancient tongue that Dean guesses might be antique Egyptian. As the words flow, his voice gets stronger, louder and in contrast, Sam seems to shrink into the cushions holding him.
Dean is tempted to call it off to spare his brother, but the alternative is inconceivable. He needs to trust Sam.
But it's not easy when a whirlwind appears in the middle of their apartment and sends flying every object and paper weighing less than half a pound. And then bigger objects get airborne too, and Dean fears for Sam's head that really can't take any more abuse, but the potential projectiles keep circling them, never coming closer than four or five feet.
Dean keeps sending Sam worried glances as he sees his brother paler by the minute and he almost misses Donatello's sign and Bobby pouring the oil. When he finally does his one job, an intense light suffuse the whole room, and then everything flying just drops down at the same time as the living room gets dark.
Bobby finds his way to the window and open the heavy curtains. In the gentle light of dusk, the place looks like a battlefield.
Donatello lies unconscious and Sammy doesn't fare much better.
Dean feels rage growing inside him. It was all for nothing.
Sammy risked his life, and for what ? To revive a guy who looks like he was the main course at last year's 4th of July's barbecue. A tad overdone, and definitely dead !
He reaches for the flask of oil now lying empty on the table and throws it at the mummy with a cry of utter frustration.
"Dean," Sam murmurs, "it's okay."
"No, Sam, it's not even remotely okay. Patmosis was supposed to help you and now…"
"How can I be of assistance ?"
Dean freezes. Sam turns his eyes toward the voice and then Dean follows suit.
As it turns out, Patmosis has woken up.
-------------
Crowley leaves Azazel to deal with Rubis. Now that they have the Winchesters' address, they can watch them.
He's not about to make the same kind of mistakes as Rubis, though. The demon is a fanatic, and stupid for it. Crowley knows better.
So he sends a minor demon to trail the American hunters, with strict orders to report only to him.
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"I didn't see that one coming !" Bobby mutters.
None of them really did, to be honest. Dean doesn't know what the others imagined when they thought about awakening the mummy, but that… thing, walking, and talking, wasn't even approaching the realm of his dreams and fantasies.
"Did you not call on me for a specific purpose ?" the mummy asks in French, as if aware somehow of the country it now resides in, and then repeats the sentence in English.
Not only does the mummy speaks more than its original language, it also speaks excellent French and English. That means there's no reason to doubt it can probably speaks every earthly language, past and present. Dean can already hear Sam ranting about the awesome universal translator they've just found and the many ways they can use it.
Which is not at all the reason why he brought the mummy back, so Dean decides to cut to the chase.
"I did," he answers. "I want you to heal Sam."
Patmosis turns his head in the direction Dean is showing him. Then he walks to the couch and sits next to Sam, taking one of his pale hands between his own.
"You're so weak," Patmosis observes, and Dean feels cold to the bones. "On the edge between life and death, and it's only your inner strength and the love of your brother keeping you on the side of life.
"So you're going to heal him ?" Dean insists.
"No."
It's like a slap to Dean's face.
"Why not ?"
"Because I can't."
"But you're a doctor. Donatello says your medicine was so advanced that you could do many things we don't, three millennia later."
"I'm afraid I can't compare our two medicines at the moment, but to answer your most pressing need, I would have to be a god. I'm sorry. You went to Egypt and braved so many dangers, and I wish I could repay you for everything you've done for me, but I don't have that kind of power."
Dean looks down, unable to look Sam in the eyes and watch death at work.
"Can I have some tea ?" Patmosis breaks the silence.
Dean can't help but laugh.
"You drink ?"
"Not for me. For your brother. I can make it if you just tell me where to find the leaves."
"Sure, the kitchen's right there, and the tea is in the first cupboard on the left, the orange box."
As the mummy makes its way toward the kitchen, Bobby comes to Dean and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, boys. We knew it was a shot in the dark, but we had to try."
"You're right," Sam approves. "I know you guys hoped for a better result, but don't feel bad about it. You gave it your best."
"No !" Dean cuts in. "There must be something else we can do."
"What ?" Bobby argues, almost angry. "We went through all the books, all the lore. Redfield's hypothesis was the last chance, that's why I let you go with it, as crazy as it seemed. Because I don't have anything more to try."
"Maybe… maybe, if it comes to it, Donatello was able to revive a mummy and a prehistorical dinosaur. If Sam dies, Donatello could bring him back."
"Have you seen him ?" Sam counters. "The toll it takes on him ?"
"His heart won't be able to handle another hit of that kind," Bobby adds. "He'll die."
"Then I'll learn to do it. I'm younger and stronger, and…"
"No, you won't !" Sam forbids him. "I won't have you die to save me. If I die, I die. End of the story."
"So you can die, but I can't ?!"
"Exactly !"
"Yeah, well, watch me ! I will do as…"
"Boys !" Bobby shouts. "Sam is not dead yet, but this argument certainly doesn't help. I'm going to take Donatello to the hospital, and I want you to calm down before I go."
As Bobby places one of Donatello's arms over his shoulders and leads him out of the apartment, Patmosis comes back with a steaming cup in his hand. Sam smiles in thanks, and maybe also a little bit because the mummy looks quite disheveled, bandages dragging on the floor behind him as he walks.
"Your… - kitchen ? is that the way you call it ? - is quite impressive, I must admit. How do you call that big box that creates fire ?"
"You mean the gas stove ?" Sam suggests.
"I guess I do. That's genius ! How does it work ?"
"Well, there's a pipe in the building leading the gas to the stove inside every apartment and…"
"Okay, you two," Dean interrupts the explanation, "we'll keep the lesson for another time. Pat, I thought you didn't drink ?"
There's another cup in the mummy's hand and he's sipping from it.
"I thought I'd give it a try… I hope I'm not overstepping some boundaries I'm not aware of ?"
"Not at all. Mi casa es su casa, and all that jazz."
"Thank you, Dean, you're quite urbane."
"I'm what now ?"
Sam snorts.
"He means friendly, pleasant. Welcoming."
"Yeah, well, don't mention it," Dean cuts the conversation short, strangely embarrassed.
This is all too much. He feels trapped and nothing seems to make much sense anymore. Sam is dying, and they have a sentient mummy drinking tea in their living room.
"It's quite good, really," Patmosis gives the tea a second try. "I must say, I needed something like this to soothe me after the professor's spell. I'm sure it was strong enough to wake the dead in a two-kilometer radius."
The mummy laughs at his own joke but violently startles when Dean grips his wrist before he can bring the cup to his lips again.
"Dean," Sam protests, "what are you doing ?"
Dean ignores him, staring hard at Patmosis.
"You said you'd need to be a god to heal Sam, right ? Now tell me if I'm wrong, but I seem to remember that pharaohs were considered to be gods among men."
"You're right," Patmosis answers, almost warily. "My master, Ramses II, was the strongest of them all."
"I'm sure he was. But does that mean he would have had the power needed to make Sam whole again ?"
"Actually, yes. If he were here and alive, and most of all willing to do it, he could heal Sam."
Dean lets the mummy go and claps his hands together, a smile on his face for the first time in what feels like years.
There's a copy of today's newspaper somewhere in the room. It's been blown away by Donatello's spell but Dean manages to track it down and find the event & leisure page.
At the bottom, in the same place Dean saw it every day for the last few days, a big ad reminds readers of the current, exceptional exhibit at the Louvre : sarcophaguses and mummies from the time of Ramses II, coming right from Egypt for a short period of time before they go enlighten another country.
"Look !" he orders, shoving the paper in front of the mummy's face. "Your master's here, and I bet he's alive too. Now tell me, how can we make sure that he'll be willing to help ?"
He feels Sam looking at him and turns his eyes on him. There he reads hope, shining bright and looking back at him.
He's not sure what the cure might entail, but he knows one thing. He'll get his brother back tonight, or he'll die trying. They've tried everything else ; this is the last chance before Sam withers away and dies. And this is not a fate Dean can tolerate and accept. He'll fight demons to save his brother. He'll fight gods and any kinds of monster if he has to.
He'll fight Ramses II and force him to heal Sam.
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"Sir, the Winchesters are moving."
The demon Crowley sent to watch over them is back.
"Then why are you here instead of tailing them ?"
"You asked to be apprised of their doings."
Crowley sighs. No one ever said becoming a demon made one former human smart. Sometimes it feels as if he should do everything himself to get it done well.
"I'm sorry, sir," the demon tries to redeem himself. "I'll go back and find them."
Crowley shuts him up by snapping his fingers, and the guy disappears forever in a puff of ashes.
Azazel doesn't need to know the Winchesters are on the move. Better let him think that Sam is still too weak to do anything until the day he'll turn. Better let him keep on believing that the needle he inserted in Samuel's brains, the one that Crowley prepared to his specifications, was cursed in the right way to transform this special human into the ultimate tool that will bring Lucifer back.
If Rubis is right, then Asmodée and Crowley were on the same side. Asmodée's plan failed. Crowley's won't. It's too late for that, and the mere fact that Sam Winchester is out and about proves it.
But after Asmodée's betrayal, Azazel is going to be twice as suspicious and vicious - the death Dean Winchester offered Asmodée was definitely a gift in disguise. Azazel would have torn him apart and put him back together only to do it again, all that fun for millennia.
Crowley reflects that it's probably time to find another gig. Last he heard, the position of King of the Crossroads was open - he should know, he was the one who got rid of the previous king.
Azazel has gotten cocky after centuries of ruling, he's not afraid of two puny humans. But if the Winchesters have proved one thing in the past few years, it's that they're harder to kill than cockroaches.
As for himself, Crowley intends to stay out of their way for as long as it takes before he knows for sure he can take on them.
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To be completely honest, Patmosis looks quite ridiculous wearing one of Dean's suits. The legs are far too long for him, and the vest too large, but the ball cap is especially hilarious. Maybe mummies don't have the head for hats, Dean muses.
Somehow, Sam looks even weirder, perched on the pterosaur's back. Dean can see he's declining fast, hanging on through sheer stubbornness but already less than half conscious, and he thanks all the Egyptian deities as well as Donatello for this animal able to support his brother and take him to the one who might prove able to cure him.
It's no one's fault that the Louvre is so big, and that they have to remain silent so as not to alert the vigil.
But Patmosis wants to have fun after being entombed for so many lifetimes. Twice already, Dean's seen him playing with his shadow on the floor to try and scare the night guards doing their rounds.
Now he's suggesting different shadow puppet figures that he'd like to try and Dean can't take it anymore.
"Hey, knock it off !" Dean murmurs as harshly as he can. "I need you one thousand percent focused on Sam and his cure. You'll play silly games once we're done here."
Dean swears, he looks like a kid about to make a scene because his mother forbade him to go play outside as long as he's not finished with his homework.
"Don't !" he stops the argument he knows is coming. "Sam and I, we've always been a pair. He's my better half and I'll do anything necessary to save his life, so don't cross me."
"Yes, master," Patmosis relents.
"And none of that. I'm not your master."
"But I have a debt of gratitude..."
"That you can repay by getting your boss to use his power to heal Sam. Come on, let's find the sarcophaguses."
They finally manage to enter the department of Egyptian antiquities, but they still need to go through many rooms before they end in the place they've been searching for all along.
Sam seems to wake up partially at the view of the painted wooden boxes adorning the walls, like guards watching over their king. The center of the room is filled by a sarcophagus carved in stone that attracts everyone's stare, and Dean easily guesses that they've found Ramses II.
"How do we proceed ?" he asks.
"We must follow protocol," Patmosis answers, "to show our respect to the great king, the chosen of Ra."
"Okay. So what do we do ?"
"You do nothing. We handle everything else."
"We ? Who's we ?"
The answer comes in the form of more mummies. All the painted boxes aligned along the walls are opening, one after the other, to let the mummy they contain wander free inside the museum. All meet around their pharaoh's much bigger sarcophagus.
When they all stand like a guard of honor, they work together to take off the coffin's top and bring to light the body inside.
The least you can say, Dean thinks as he takes a peek, is that the good old pharaoh looks his age. Not a pretty young thing anymore.
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Being a prince of hell means power. An astounding amount of power.
And the corollary is that everybody fears him. So much so that information comes to him without solicitation.
When a person Azazel is interested in makes a move, at least three demons walk over each other to try and be the first to tell him about that move.
When the Winchester leave their home, one of them sitting on the back of the pterosaur everybody's been talking about in Paris and the other accompanied by what looks like a mummy, there has to be someone to tell Azazel about it.
And it looks like the Winchester have been seized by an irresistible need to acquire further knowledge about art in general, and Egyptian embalming techniques in particular. At the Louvre, no less.
Azazel has a lot he can teach them about both topics. His fields of expertise are various and sundry. He knows all the ways you can kill a man - or a woman - and make it just so painful that they will ask for death long before he grants their wish. He knows how to tear hope out of one's heart. How to stuff said heart with dread and hate and drugs. How to stop caring for those you once loved.
The Winchesters would benefit greatly from his expertise, no doubt about it, and Azazel is prepared to help them out of the goodness of his heart. First, he'll teach Sammy how to get rid of his meddling big brother, and it will be bloody. Then he'll train him to respond to his voice and command. Samuel will make an obedient Boy King, eager to please Azazel in any way. Once Lucifer is restored, Azazel will ask for a gift Satan won't be able to deny him, for Azazel will have brought him back.
Samuel will make a perfect consort.
But first, if there's the tiniest chance that the cure Dean Winchester has come up with might work, Azazel needs to see to it that his efforts are for naught. Once he's done, he'll bring Samuel back to his home. In two days, a full year will have passed, and the training of the Boy King will begin.
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They've been at it for less than ten minutes, and that was nine too many in Dean's opinion. Sam, on the contrary, looks fascinated, almost as much as he seems about to keel over. He's slumped against the pterosaur's strong neck, who doesn't show any displeasure at the contact or the burden despite the heavy dead weight on her back.
Dean's attention is brought back to the pharaoh when the damn mummy moves at last, seconds before his men help him out of the sarcophagus.
Ramses looks regal, Dean's gotta be honest about that. And he can't help the little frisson of anticipation coursing through his body. How many men have seen mummies wake up from a millennia-long sleep, stand and walk around like they just want to get breakfast and then go to work ? How many among those lucky few have seen Ramses II coming back to life ?
'Kay, the great pharaoh looks a bit on the toasty side. He has arthritis and a hunch, and his hair display a surprisingly reddish tint. Yet his men kneel in front of him and bow their heads.
"What time is it ?" Ramses II asks in a gravelly voice.
Sleeping for more than 3,000 years will do that to you.
"The year is 1911, great Ramses," Patmosis answers.
For all he's been reborn for a few hours only, Pat is still the most learned of the bunch when it comes to their century.
The pharaoh turns to another man who looks pompous like a priest, the kind who thinks their beliefs should be everyone's.
"Semotep, is it the time we were supposed to wake up to lead our people toward their great destiny ?"
"Not yet, great Ramses. I don't know why Patmosis thought it would be a good idea, but he was definitely wrong."
"Patmosis, do you have something to say to that ?"
"That I did nothing of the sort, my king. I was awakened just like you, but in the company of men of this time. They have been tremendously helpful and I'd like to…"
"You were always speaking too much," the sovereign cuts Patmosis' flow of words with a hand gesture.
In this moment, Dean feels like kindred spirit with the pharaoh. He wish he knew how to shut someone up as easily.
The king tests his legs on his own, reviews his guards, and then stops abruptly as he walks up to Dean.
"Patmosis, who is this man ?"
"Dean Winchester, my lord. One of the men who woke us up."
"What did he want with us ?"
"He," Dean highlights the word, "stands right here and can speak for himself."
The pharaoh is clearly stunned to be interrupted and called on his bad manners.
"Then speak up, young man."
Patmosis stands right next to them and looks alarmed by the situation.
"Excuse his impudence, my king. He doesn't know the rules. Mr. Winchester is a storyteller by trade."
"Really ? One does make a living with such trifles ?"
"One does make a great living !" Dean answers, the tiniest bit pissed on his brother's behalf as well as his own.
"That still does not explain why you needed to wake us up ahead of time."
"We only needed Patmosis. I went to Egypt to work with him. I needed him to cure my brother."
Dean indicates Sam at his left. There's no need to comment. Even to a dead guy, Sam's low level of vigor doesn't require questions and answers to be evident
"The way I see it," Dean goes on, "now that you're up anyway, you could lend us a hand and get my brother back to health…"
"Maybe," Ramses answers but then he turns his back to them to rejoin his men. "After the reconnaissance operations. I need to know this place first and make plans afterward for the new kingdom."
Dean follows him, and Patmosis trots behind him.
"Sam needs your help now, not after. He's dying."
"You know, life and death, it's all the same. It's a flow, it kind of comes and goes. Look at us !"
"Yeah, no offense, but I kind of prefer avoiding for my brother the fate of looking like a mummy. I'd like to focus on the "life comes" part and forget the rest."
Patmosis is tugging on his sleeve to get his attention but Dean is too upset to get it.
"In that case," Ramses answers, vexed and pissed, "I'm sure you'll find someone to help you whose ugliness won't offend your delicate sensibility."
"Hey, that's not fair !" Dean protests
But Ramses walks away.
"Pat," Dean urges, "do something ! Sam needs him."
"Very well, I'll try."
Patmosis falls into step behind Ramses and launches into a long explanation of the reason why Ramses should help the young man who needs him. But before the pharaoh has time to make a decision, armed men enter the exhibition room, aiming at mummy and men alike. The pterosaur hisses and screeches but stays put because of her precious cargo.
Then enters another man Dean would recognize anywhere : Azazel the sorcerer.
"What are you doing here ?" Dean growls.
Azazel seems pleased to find them both, there's no other way to put it. But when he looks at Sam, his smile turns hungry, all teeth showing, and Dean cringes even more.
"I'm sure you remember our encounter in Egypt," Azazel finally replies, "in that tomb where you stole your friend here's body. You seemed so sure he was the key to Sam's problem. My curiosity was piqued. I needed to see it myself."
"And what an extraordinary coincidence that you happened to pass by on the same day we do !"
"It is, isn't it ?!"
Dean considers him.
"So what do you want ?"
"I want to prevent an accident."
"Just like you did on the ship ?"
"Boys ! Dean, Sam, you must know this was nothing personal. I acted in self-defense, to get you to stop hunting me."
It seems logical, but something about this man grates on Dean's every sense, telling him to distrust Azazel and never turn his back on him. Whatever he may say and how well he says it.
"Don't believe him, Dean," Sam implores, trying to stay upright on his mount and failing.
The pterosaur favors one leg or the other depending on the moment, to adapt to Sammy's slouching and erratic moves. At the moment, her wings are deployed, ready to fly away and protect him. Her agitation reminds Dean of the way she attacked Rubis and he can't help watching Azazel's men differently from then on. He still doesn't know who Azazel is working for, but they've known for almost a year now that he doesn't mind dealing with demonic tools.
"Whose dirty job are you taking on ?" Dean fumes. "What do they want with us ? With Sam ? What the demons' beef with us ? You better come clean because as soon as Sam's healed, I'm gonna make sure the one responsible for this meets an ugly death."
Azazel narrows his eyes at him at these last words and there's a kind of a shift in the air - men readying for battle - as well as a physical one when the mummies take position around their leader to protect Ramses.
"I will chase them too," Sam affirms.
It's kind of pathetic, considering Sam's current state, but it's also the sign of his brother's bravery.
"And we will chase you, because if you really killed our mother, we will find out why and you will pay for it. In this world and into the next."
Sam's big declaration ends on a coughing fit that leaves him even weaker than before.
The bird wails in distress and it's like the signal for everyone to let violence loose. The eyes of Azazel's men go black, confirming what Dean suspected, a second before they attack.
"Protect Sam !" Dean orders the pterosaur before he plunges into the fray.
Of course, he would stand no chance alone against demons. But the mummies are vicious and strong, and they spare no effort to defeat the enemy. Dean sees a chance to capture Azazel and goes for it, only to find himself surrounded by three demons. Ramses, Patmosis and Semotep at his back are no help at all until Patmosis mans up and appears at his side to defend their lives and his pharaoh.
One by one, demons are sent back to hell, bodies dropping behind, dead, as they leave. Dean sees it as just retribution for killing the museum's night guards, which seems like the only logical explanation why nobody showed up to stop them when the fight began.
Dean kills two demons himself, one of which was trying to get to the pharaoh and behead him. It's quite satisfying, but when Dean tries to reach Azazel again, the man has disappeared, just like he did on their first encounter.
"Dammit !" Dean shouts, more angry than ever.
But their victory is complete. All demons have been vanquished, as Sam would write in one of their books. Defeated, beaten, asses kicked into oblivion. They won, and Sam is still alive. Sam is…
"Sam !" Dean yells.
His brother is slumped entirely over the bird's neck, the only thing to prevent him from falling head first.
Dean runs at his side and hardly finds a pulse.
"Ramses !" he commands the pharaoh's attention, "Are you honorable, oh great pharaoh ? Are you a real man or just a legend ? I saved your life, and I ask for quid pro quo. You save Sam's life, now, or you'll have my death on your conscience, because I can't live without him."
Ramses stares at him, judging his words, his will and his sincerity all in the same, long look. And then he nods.
"Nosibis is my personal doctor. He will take care of your brother and cure him, give him more time to bask in the deep love you feel for him."
Dean releases the breath he wasn't consciously holding to let four mummies surround Sam and lift him. Together, they bring Sam to Ramses' sarcophagus and lay him inside.
Nosibis is hard at work already when Dean turns to him. The doctor is using one of the vials displayed in a cabinet, that he empties into a chipped cup probably made at the time Ramses was first alive. Dean pushes one of the mummies away to stand closer, be able to reach for Sam and take his hand in his, and watch the doctor prepare his stuff in the same moment.
Patmosis lends his support by standing next to him by the time the doctor is ready. Nosibis first slides a small box - another precious artifact, it seems - under Sam's neck to raise his head. Then he takes the cup he prepared, full of a brownish mixture that he applies around the area where the needle protrudes from the middle of Sam's forehead. He does the same behind his head, at the point of entry.
At the doctor's order, two mummies approach Sam to bare his chest, pushing his shirt aside to show skin and reveal his heart, like an offering to the gods. Dean feels a cold dread rush through his own heart, his whole body, but he forces himself into stillness.
Nosibis leans over Sam. With the tip of two fingers, he draws over Sam's heart and down his torso a huge form that Dean recognizes to be an ankh. The cross of life, how very relevant. Then the doctor lays his hand in the middle of the cross and pronounces something that feels like a spell to Dean.
Maybe he imagined it, but he could swear he heard Sam taking a deeper breath. God knows he had a lot experiences this year at listening to any detail proving that Sam is getting better, stronger. Alive.
He closes his eyes on the memories, willing them away, but reopens them quickly. He owes it to Sam to watch over him while he's unconscious.
Nosibis repeats his mantra as well as the drawing on Sam's chest. Sam's skin, under the mixture, is glowing, and Dean imagines the salve making its fiery path into deep tissue, right to the heart.
Sam's eyes open under the onslaught. He grits his teeth, keeping his cries of pain inside, until the moment Nosibis brings his hand behind his head and pulls on the needle. All the way out of Sam's head.
Dean shouts no ! and then there's no sound, not even one small drag of foot on the floor. Dean swears he can feel/hear his heart racing in disbelief but its intangible, unreal. Nosibis did… This silence, this lack of sound, it' so ominous, the negation of life, the suppression of movement and joy. It's nothingness, it's abandon and despair.
Sam is… No, he's not. His eyes are wide open and unseeing, but it's nothing new, and Sam can't be… as soon as Dean can put his hands on Sam again to make love to him, he will wake up, make noises and look at Dean.
"What did you do ?" he hears, only to realize he's the one who's been talking.
Everyone ignores him. After letting go of Sam's head that he gently deposits against the sarcophagus, the small artifact at the nape of his neck pushed away, Nosibis takes a step back to allow Ramses in his place. Dean watches, still heartbroken and stupid, the pharaoh leaning down to apply his dried out lips against Sam's pink mouth.
"The kiss of life," Patmosis murmurs with such reverence that it breaks Dean's defenses, the need to push the king away, to claim that Sam belongs only to him.
The kiss lasts three or four breaths in and the same amount of breaths out. Ramses' right hand lands inside the loop making the top of the ankh, right above Sam's heart. And Sam's chest pushes back, inflates with air invading his lungs, with blood circulating his veins, with life claiming him again.
Dean is not crying. He doesn't mind either that Nosibis and then Semotep, the haughty priest, kiss Sam too. Even if he does mind, Dean remains silent, for he sees Sam's face coloring, eyes taking in their surroundings, body trying to move away from the kisses of people he didn't invite to share an act so intimate with.
But when they're done, Sam sits up on his own, without any help. He looks beautiful and whole. He looks like the Sam of one year ago.
Sam looks down at his hand entwined with Dean's. He moves his fingers around Dean's, testing the grip they have on each other, and then Sam looks up.
He looks at Dean with tears in his eyes, trying to say thank you, but Dean doesn't need any more thanks than seeing him alive and well. He will take a lifetime of that kind of thanks, a lifetime of Sam at his side.
Sam is not even unsteady on his feet when he stands up. He's just… gorgeous seems like a good word to describe Sam when there's no trace of exertion on him anymore. And he's Dean's to hold and love, so Dean does just that, gripping Sam hard inside the circle of his arms, and Sam grips just as hard.
They hear Patmosis and other mummies congratulating them, wishing Sam a happy, long and fulfilling life. Some say Sam's lucky to have such a brother caring for him. And Sam laughs awkwardly as he agrees, wishing he could thank his lover by kissing him too. Dean has shared his life force with him so many times in the past year, without realizing what he was doing, but now they both see how much they sustain each other, how incomplete they are without this endless circle of giving and taking and giving again that has to go both ways, all the time.
The last one to share in the joy of the moment is the bird. She comes close enough to push her beak against both their heads and cuddles with them. Dean wouldn't be surprised to learn that she adds her own power to the great melting pot.
It's obvious he's not the only one realizing in this moment how valuable an animal the pterosaur is. Later, when they're all ready to take this somewhere else, back to their respective homes, Ramses makes his will known.
"The bird will accompany us back home."
"Home, as in Egypt ?" Sam immediately catches up.
"Absolutely. She will be well loved and tended to, and she will bring power to our court."
Ramses is no fool. Dean wishes he had the means to keep the bird, too. But his life is too hectic. They have no place to call home, just hotels and pensions, travelling from one to the next as they hunt, and there's no way they could manage to make her fit in. Not to mention the problem of getting her back to the USA with them. It's not like they can put her in a box down in the hold and get her out once they've crossed the ocean.
"We will call her Nefertari," Ramses decides, "in honor of our beautiful consort."
Dean's not a fan of the name. Kind of impractical for a pet.
"Neffy," he says. "How do you like it, sweetheart ?"
The bird puts her beak in his hand in that way they both love.
"You like it ? Awesome ! Neffy it is."
Dean feels eyes glaring at him behind his back, but ask him how much he cares.
His own eyes search for Sam. Just making sure, you know. Sure that it wasn't all a dream, that Sam is back
-------------
Victor Roger has been sober since the cops threw him in a drunk tank. Granted, it wasn't that long ago, but it looks like an important day. He told himself this was a sign, that it was time to change.
And it doesn’t mean he can’t still go and see Josette, the pretty girl at the bistro, the one who receives her clients in the backroom that smells of patchouli and makes him sneeze, but that he keeps visiting because Josette smiles a lot and she’s so talented with her tongue.
So he's not drunk. No one has cause to suggest he might be hallucinating.
He’s on his way to his small, lonely apartment when he spots them. From a distance, they look like a bunch of tipsy students, walking funny and dressed funnier. The leader sports big headgear and other jewels shining bright thanks to the street lamps lighting the place de la Concorde, and Victor wonders if it’s Mardi Gras and he somehow missed it.
But then his brain catches up with what his eyes are telling him.
Mummies. Mummies of ancient Egypt, in Paris. Mummies talking and laughing, admiring the Obelisk on the place de la Concorde as if they wished for one like that at home.
"Sorry, pals," Victor mutters under his breath. "This one's ours."
There's no way they heard him, he thinks, when they all turn their head toward him. So he keeps on going.
Of course they need to pass close to him ! On such a big place, there's no way they could just avoid each other…
Irony can only get him so far before he quivers in his boots. And he can't stop himself screaming like a little boy when he hurries far from them and something lands right in his path, hardly one meter away from him.
It's the deadly bird, the dinosaur, the pe… pter… something, and Victor is on the verge of wetting himself with terror.
"Neffy," a regal voice calls from very close behind him, and Victor doesn't jump.
No, he doesn't. Nor does he wet himself this time. Not at all.
Victor stops moving. He even tries to stop breathing as the bird watches him.
"Come, Neffy," the same voice orders. "Let's go home."
The bird kind of huffs, as if disappointed that it wasn't able to play with its prey any longer, or that it wasn't allowed to eat him, but then it moves, taking flight again, and soon dinosaur and mummies have gone. Victor finds he can move again.
There’s not enough red wine in the world to help him forget what he saw.
One thing’s for sure : the mummies can travel right back to Egypt, Victor won’t go to the police this time !
Instead, he doubles back and makes his way to the bistro ; if he sees mummies in the streets of Paris, there's no point in being sober.
-------------
Dean breathes deep, inhaling the fresh air of this fine, late afternoon of April. He wants to remember one of the last moments he's spending in France as the ferry takes him, Sam and a lot of other passengers from the harbor to the ship that will carry them back home at last.
They've taken their sweet time about it. Dean didn't think it was possible but since his "rebirth," Sam's lust for life and all it has to offer has increased. It means Sam dragged him along - Dean wasn't ready yet to let his brother out of his sight - to visit every museum, every castle, every church he wanted to see. They all blurred into Dean's mind after the third trip, but Sam never seemed satisfied.
They spent the end-of-the-year holidays in Paris, but then went back to search the province, sometimes going for neighboring countries. While Sam hunted libraries and old stones, Dean had a blast listening to the inhabitants sharing their legends and tasting local brew.
Then one day, after they took care of a vengeful ghost acting up in the cemetery next to the 12th century chapel they were visiting because of some Madonna and Child wooden sculpture no one but his brother had ever heard about, Sam admitted he felt kind of homesick.
So here they are at last, about to embark.
They know they're trailed by demons quite often. It doesn't matter as long as they don't come close or try anything. Sam can hold his own again in a fight, and they're both armed and dangerous. The demons know it. Dean's pretty sure the fact that he killed Asmodée made sure every last one of them knows he means business, especially since Bobby found out that the yellow eyes indicated that this one was a prince of hell.
The fact is, Dean doesn't really care about demons. The one he wants to find is Azazel, the bastard who boasted about killing their mother. By the time he's finished with the sorcerer, the man will wish for a nice vacation in hell.
But Azazel has made himself scarce, of course. Dean and Sam still don't know if the needle he planted in Sam's brain was something he found by chance or if he was acting on Asmodée's behalf. Nor do they know why he killed their mother. Is this some kind of family feud they're not aware of ? A multi-generational vendetta ? Is Dean next in line for an attempt on a Winchester's life ? Or will they - whoever they might be - go again after Sam ? Whatever the answer, Azazel's end will be long and painful.
Maybe that's why the demons are still watching them, making sure they don't get too close to Azazel and the secrets he's keeping.
They were still at the harbor when Sam spotted two men watching them intently, as if making sure they were leaving at last the old continent, ready to wish them safe travel and please don't ever come back.
The ferry stops next to the ship, sailors throwing ropes to tie them together.
"Ladies first, Sammy," Dean offers like the gentleman he is. "Get on that boat !"
"Ship, Dean," Sam huffs, almost in spite of himself, and Dean grins.
Once they step on the deck, they take in the crowd already there. They hear more than one language but the most used seems to be English, and it feels a bit like home already.
A young boy stops in front of them and looks at Dean with awe in his eyes.
"You're Dean Winchester," he stammers in French, "I saw you when my mum took me to that boring book signing event last year."
With a snort, Dean signs the book in the kid's hand, "A Mummy in Paris", published only a few days ago, the newest in the Dean Winchester's Extraordinary Adventures series and already a success. Except this one is a turning point. After everything that happened, how close Dean came to losing his brother, he decided that a change was in order.
Both their names now appear to indicate they wrote together. And this is why the series is now called Dean and Sam Winchester's Extraordinary Adventures, as it appears on top of the book cover in big, bold, golden letters that look like hieroglyphs. Benny had a blast with the design on that one ! In Dean's opinion, the twelve pen illustrations alone are worth the price of the copy.
Not only because Dean loves to make fun of the long hair the Sam character of the book is sporting. Much longer than the original, just like every other detail makes him almost feminine. It's just too easy to call the character Samantha and then watch Sam's face doing this grimace that seems to mean 'you're the worst idiot and if you weren't my brother I'd never want to see you again but I love you anyway' and warms Dean's heart.
So Dean hands the book over to Sam for him to sign it in his turn, which he does before he gives it back to the boy who then runs to find his parents again
"Mark my words, Sammy. One day, our books will be so well-known and admired that they'll be exhibited at the Louvre !"
It's a surefire way to launch Sam into his favorite diatribe as of late.
"I still can't believe you dared to take a dinosaur into the biggest museum in the world !"
How many times has Dean heard about the damages the big bird could have done to the priceless paintings and other sculptures ? Too many, that's the answer ! As if Sam still can't wrap his big brain around the fact that there's nothing Dean wouldn't do to save him.
He better get used to it, because Dean would do it all again in a heartbeat. And he'll keep fighting demons and gods to make sure Sam is okay, just as he knows Sam will do the same for him.
They'll keep their eyes open to stave off any threat, but Dean is not afraid. They proved they can beat any odds. Whatever the world throws at them, together, they're strong enough to beat it.
So Dean takes Sammy's hand and leads him toward their cabin. Time for a private moment. They need to make the most of the cruise this time.
A horn sounds, letting everyone know that the ship is about to sail, but neither Dean nor Sam pay attention to the joyous exclamations from other passengers.
They keep walking as the Titanic takes them toward their next adventure.
-------FIN-------
Author's notes