A Vision of Black Steel (Part Three)
It took four days to get to the Keep and then they were taken to their quarters there, Sam taken with Dean when both Bobby and Dean claimed he couldn’t be separated from them. It was juvenile and pointless but that was the will of the Council, to be left waiting in their rooms like bad children as the elders discussed what to do with them.
It was one of the many things the Elders did that made Dean a less than perfect member of Ordo Latro. Dean was a hunter through and through, had been born and bred for it, but the Order wasn’t very friendly with psychics to begin with and they certainly had never known what to do with the blind child in their midst who wanted to learn to be a hunter. They knew less what to do with him when his abilities manifested at 12. He’d already learned how to navigate the world with his blindness by then though, knew how to tell their moods by the way their words were spoken, to know the emotions behind it by the silences and shuffling between the words. He knew when they lied, and perhaps worse to the Order than knowing, Dean confronted them about it.
So it was no surprise to find himself waiting most of the day for the Council to call him from his chambers. He had at least had time to dress Sam properly and instruct him on the proceedings, because no matter how informal they claimed to be, no meeting with the Council of Elders was ever completely informal.
He made his way, black pants and shirt clean and freshly pressed, his long duster breezing behind him with Sam’s sword strapped at his hip. Sam was at his back, a clean shirt, stretched tight over his chest showing the impressive muscle he had and new jeans replaced the poorly fitting clothes Dean had loaned him. His hair was clean, cut even, but still long and when Sam looking up from under his hair, he could still intimidate. Dean didn’t bother to try to look back at him, but his bare feet shifting on the rock gave away his position easily enough, just a step back and to the right of Dean. He was a shade too close to be considered proper for the Council, but Dean couldn’t care less. He was there to get out to a new hunt and to inform them that he no longer needed a partner.
**
The council members stood behind their raised desks, their eyes looking down as Dean walked into the room. It was more like an arena with the platform area above and the person seeking audience below. He wondered if it bothered the other hunters, to come in and have to look up like that, but Dean didn’t let the trick bother him. It never had. Maybe because he’d grown up in these halls. Maybe because Bobby used to sneak him up there sometimes and he’d play underneath the table or read his books hidden beneath his feet. Bobby was up there now of course, the last true hunter in the council. They’d all given up the life a while ago, stuck to research and libraries and telling others what to do and where to go. Bobby said they were pushing him to give in, to stop running off to play at a younger man’s game but he still held out.
Dean was grateful of at least one friendly face when they entered the room, having left Dean to wait there for them the past ten minutes. They really liked their games and especially with Dean who never did what he was supposed to.
They filtered in and Dean kept himself calm. He could feel Sam behind him, one step back and one step over. He closed his eyes for a moment and really looked at Sam without turning his head to give it away as he usually did. He stood stock still, straight as a board. His hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes were hard as he looked up at the men of the council. Nothing about him said ‘wild man’; nothing would make them think twice about him, except that he was an unknown.
When he opened his eyes he focused ahead of him, looking up at the Council members, twelve grizzled men who had once been hunters, who had failed in their lifetime to stop the darkness that surrounded them now. Twelve men trying to right the wrongs done to the world when hell was unleashed on their watch.
“Dean Campbell,” The head of the order spoke his name and Dean had to force himself not to flinch. When the man spoke even the gates of heaven felt cold and icy, his emotionless tone felt more at place at a funeral pyre than a meeting of peers. “Your last partner came back a full two weeks ago to report on the Olgave Lake assignment. Is there a reason we’re just getting you back now? Some problem you need to report?”
They wanted it to be. They wanted to know what Dean had gotten lost or had been robbed or something equally as mundane so they could try to force him to stay closer to the Keep, where they could keep an eye on him, on the abilities he had.
“Jo Harvelle left after we killed the third pack of black dogs in the lake area. The next day, I found another trail that I believed was fresh so I continued on without her.”
“She said there was a disagreement between you and you told her to go.”
Dean didn’t answer. There was nothing to say to that anyway. Jo had obviously told them about it and he was sure they knew what the fight had been about. He’d given her a choice to stay or go but they didn’t care about that.
“She said you refused to kill something in the woods, that you were letting sentimentality get in the way of the hunt.”
Dean scoffed at that. “She believed the creature was evil, even thought he had just saved me from a black dog. I told her I could see that he wasn’t evil, just wild, and she refused to believe.”
“We don’t allow evil creatures to stalk the world Campbell.” Elder Winchester said harshly. “What proof do you have, other than your sight, that the creature wasn’t evil?”
“When have we ever asked for more proof than his sight?” Bobby interjected from his seat at the far side of the council. Rumor said that once upon a time the two had been close. A disagreement sent John Winchester a step ahead of Bobby’s shotgun and since then their arguments on the council had become epic. Bobby never said if it was true or not, but Dean knew him well enough to see the look that sometimes passed his eyes when he looked at the head of the order. It looked a lot like regret.
“When we have to good hunters claiming something different.” Winchester stated evenly, though Dean was sure the Elder was thrilled to have a reason to question Dean.
“The creature Jo mentioned was nothing more than a man. He was not possessed, simply wild. He was aggressive in his fight against the black dogs and saved my life. I cannot attest to why Jo thought he was evil. There is, however, something else evil in those woods. We killed four packs of black dogs in the Olgave Lake forest. Something is calling them there, keeping them. I want to go back and find it, destroy whatever it is.”
“It’s hardly like you to leave a hunt and come back to the Council for permission.” Father Jim pointed out. Of the Elders at that council, Father Jim was the kindest of them. He had a fondness for Dean but Dean had grown out of the codling ways of the priest long before the second sight had come. Father Jim looked at him as someone who needed help, guidance, and physical support. He could never see Dean as anything more than the child he’d once been. Dean had a hard time being around him.
“Whatever is in those woods is big Father,” Dean said respectfully. “I thought the Council should know of it before I headed in.”
“Meaning you need new back up.” Elder Winchester took over the conversation again. “It will take time to find another hunter willing to work with you.”
Sam shuffled a little closer, still keeping his distance but it drew all eyes to him. “I have no need of back up. This is Sam, my partner and bondmate.” Dean smiled up at the Council then. “He is also the evil creature that Jo wanted to kill.”
**
“You are bound to keep this creature then?” The Elder asked.
“Yes.”
“Even against our wishes?”
“That I hunt at all is against your wishes.” Dean answered. “I’ll take him as mine whether you want it or not.”
“We could order him destroyed.”
Sam moved up behind him, a feral grown rumbled low in his throat and Dean smiled. “Try it.”
**
The council shuffled back and forth and their whispers about impudence and audacity and disrespect might have been better hidden had they remembered Dean’s gifts but they were old men, too far removed from the hunt to remember what it was like to have to move in the dark where a single snapped branch or a catch of the breath could give away your position to the creatures that hunted the night.
The whispers died down until finally the head of the council spoke again “You need to understand this, my child,” only a barely heard gasp breeched the silence as the Elder made use of the rumored connection between them.
Dean Campbell was nobody’s son; just a blind orphan left to the order when his mother, a hunter, had died at a demon’s hand. Rumor had it that she’d started an affair with a rising hunter to gain access to the inner circle, but no one would say if she had succeeded in winning the heart of John Winchester or not. If she had, if he had indeed sired a child by her, no one would ever suspect it from the way he treated Dean.
“Whatever this creature does, you are responsible for him now.” The Elder’s voice was solemn. “If you take him as yours, if you leave this room now, when the time comes to take his head, we will come for yours as well.”
Dean bowed his head slightly as he turned, Sam moving automatically to find his place at Dean’s back. “Come on Sammy,” he said as he stalked out of the room.
“Dean, this creature will be the death of you. He will steal everything that you are.”
Sam let loose a laughing howl and Dean smiled as he continued walking. The doors shut behind him bringing with it a sense of finality and Dean breathed in the cold mountain air as he gazed across the darkened sky.
Steal everything he was? They had no idea. With this bond between them there was nothing Sam could steal that Dean wouldn’t give willingly.
**
Dean stared down at the woman before him and let his eyes close, using his second sight the way she’d begun to teach him so many years before. She wasn’t awake to recognize him, but whenever he dropped his shields there was a sense of something, of ease or recognition that made Dean hope she’d some day wake. He wasn’t sure if he hoped for it or not. He didn’t think the Elders would let her go the way they did Dean. If the day came, Dean would be forced to choose between setting her free and abiding by the Council law. If the day ever came to pass, he was sure it would be the last time he was welcome in the Keep.
Sam was moving at the back of the room, his fingers brushing over the words of tomes that had been left out by the others. It was a room to study, a room to learn, and Sam was fascinated by the text there.
“What are you looking at, Samuel?”
Dean looked up to see Father Jim walk in, though his eyes were entirely on Sam. Sam eyed the man a moment and looked back at Dean. Dean just gave a half shrug with a crooked smile. Father Jim wasn’t a bad man, nor was he the hard ass the rest of the Council tried to be. Dean just didn’t like his brand of pity.
“Bond,” Sam said softly as he pointed to the book. “Psychic bond. Just reading about it.”
“I wasn’t aware that you could read.”
Sam smiled at Jim, something amused. “I wasn’t aware Council cared. Want to hunt me, kill me like an evil thing.”
Jim’s smile faded and Dean could see the edge coming out in him.
“Leave him be Jim,” Dean said softly as he continued to look at Pamela. “Just because the Council wasn’t interested in learning about him doesn’t mean he isn’t worth knowing.”
“I’m interested,” Jim said just as quietly. “You do tend to attract the strange ones Dean.”
Dean let out a huff of bitter laughter. “Lets hope it ends better this time.”
“You didn’t do this to her.”
“No, I didn’t. But I couldn’t stop it.”
It was an old fight and one Dean was glad to see Jim drop.
“So, bondmate?”
Dean cringed. He really didn’t want to have this discussion but he should have known the Council wouldn’t let him go without getting more information. Bobby would never turn his back on Dean and they knew it so they’d send Father Jim instead. It was comfort of a sort, that Bobby still thought of him over the Council and that Father Jim still cared enough to be the first one to come to him.
“You were constantly telling me I needed a partner. I finally found one and you don’t like it?”
Jim shook his head. “Just amused at your choice.”
They both looked up as Sam growled softly from the other side of the room, watching them over the top of the book he was perusing.
Sam’s eyes reached his and Dean didn’t try to pull away from the look. Instead he just continued talking to the Elder. “He’s unlike anything you’ve ever met. He took out an entire pack of black dogs to get my attention. Didn’t balk at walking away from the forest he’d lived his whole life. He followed me through it all without complaint. Whatever he is, he’s loyal and good and a hunter the likes of which the Order should be proud to have.”
Sam’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “You have me. Don’t need Order.”
Dean smiled at that. “That’s for damn sure Sammy.”
He couldn’t look away for a minute. Sam was the only one who held his gaze long, the only one who didn’t see sightless, murky white eyes, but saw past all that.
Father Jim coughed and Sam looked away as if he expected something to attack. It was the hunted way Sam moved, in the way he viewed the world, that made Dean want to go back to the forest so bad. Whatever had happened to Sam, the creature there was responsible for it and Dean wanted to make him pay for that, for every deep growl Sam let out and every attack he imagined throughout the day.
“The Council is willing to back you up on this mission Dean. Supplies are being readied for you. If there is anything special you need, let me know and I’ll see to it they’ve stocked it for you. Winchester thinks you mean to leave tonight. Singer said in the morning. When should I have everything ready?”
Dean looked at Sam and the way his fingers brushed over the words, almost as if they were the Braille that Dean read. Sam would probably like Braille. He was tactile, enjoyed the physical feel of things. He shook his head at his own romantic notions and looked at Jim. “In the morning. I think I might have to fight Sam if I don’t give him at least a night to read.”
“About that,”
“I don’t know Jim,” Dean admitted honestly. “He hasn’t offered up any details about his past and I haven’t asked.”
“You think that’s a good idea, considering where you’re about to go?”
“Plenty of time on the journey there old man.”
Father Jim let out a small laugh. “You always did like to throw yourself into things half blind.”
Dean didn’t have to look at him to see the flinch as soon as the words were out. “Sometimes half-blind is the only way to be. Sometimes people have the whole story and still can’t see what it means. Maybe there are still some things I can’t see,” Dean added, looking back over at Sam, “but Sam sees the rest for me now. Don’t need anything more than that.”
“He’s good for you.”
“I thought the Council didn’t approve?”
“Elder Winchester doesn’t approve. The Council is withholding judgment. Elder Singer approves of him and after watching the two of you together, I do too. Wild or not, he’ll take on the world for you Dean. It’s not a gift many people receive in this world. It’s not something many people give, but I see it in both of you. Maybe the books were right. Maybe, just maybe, you needed to find this bond to settle your wandering ways.”
Sam let out a howling laugh and Dean didn’t bother to hold his back. “Maybe Father Jim, or maybe it set me on the path I’ve always been following. I’m more at home in the wild than the Keep. I think Sam and I will do just fine the way we are.”
Their leave taking was done before most of the Keep was awake. The staff was busy in the kitchen but other than Bobby and Father Jim there was no one to say farewell to. He knew if he went up and knocked that Elder Winchester would be awake, that he would be watching out the high window of the Keep where his rooms were, watching them go. He knew if he looked with his second sight that he would see him there, face impassive as ever. His second sight saw more than just that though and it was perhaps that sight that made him want to leave the Keep as soon as possible. The knowledge that no matter what he said or did, no matter how good he was, no matter that they both knew the rumor were true, he would never be able to call the man father.
Sam rode an old mare out of the Keep but Dean knew before long his partner would be running alongside them instead of riding. He didn’t like riding the beasts any better than they liked the wild man on them but he did his best to appear like the man he could be while they were in the Keep. Dean wasn’t sure if he appreciated Sam’s attempt to fit into that life or if he resented it.
In his mare’s saddle packs were his regular supplies, enough to keep him going should they lose each other and the pack animal along the way, but tucked in tenderly with his spare clothes were a couple of books that Bobby had managed to sneak out to him. He told Dean there were extra copies of the text lying around and one had been on psychics which had fascinated Sam. The other was on demons, which Sam seemed to be as engrossed in as he was repulsed by it. Bobby pointed out the likelihood that Sam had had dealings with one in the past but Dean didn’t need Bobby to figure that one out.
The weather was holding well as the harsher edge of fall was creeping up on them and Dean watched as Sam slid off the mare and tied her to the pack horse so she wouldn’t stray away from them. He came up to Dean and placed his hand on his leg, letting it rest there as they walked. It seemed to help keep the ugliness at bay for Sam. The way Dean saw the world crept through the bond to Sam and while Dean had grown immune to the nauseating flashes of lightning and the dark gray clouds, it was still new to Sam.
“Alright Sam?” Dean asked as he looked down at him. It was a novel experience since Sam towered over him and Sam quirked his lips up as if reading Dean’s thoughts.
“Good,” his words were soft, thoughtful. “Doing the right thing,” he added after a moment, “going back home to kill the evil creature.”
Dean smiled, wondering what Jo would think of Sam’s joke. She’d been an alright partner up until then. Not near as good as Sam with the way he accepted Dean’s sight and never second guessed his word, but she’d been about as good as the Order was ever going to send him. In time, they probably could have developed something. He had Sam though and Jo was probably happy wherever she was, hunting without him.
“Speaking of which, you wanna tell me what we’re up against here?” Sam looked up quickly then looked away. “I didn’t want to force you to talk about it but we’ve got a lot better chance of coming out of this alive if we know what it is.”
Sam took a shuddering breath and Dean could see the way he steeled himself. “Father.”
“Your father?”
Sam nodded then shrugged. “Took me from mother as a child. Brought me here, taught me. Raised me.”
There was something sad in his voice and Dean wasn’t sure how to take that. “He turned you into a wild beast Sam. He didn’t care for you.”
Sam sighed. “Did once. Before. I stole something from him.”
“Why?”
“Wanted me to be like him but father isn’t good. Evil. Can see it, even with plain eyes,” Sam looked up, a small smile on his face. “Took because it was the only thing he was afraid of. Hurt me after that. Didn’t trust me, but only I knew where it was. Couldn’t kill me, couldn’t make me tell. Make me like the black dogs, other children see and do better. None so smart as Sam though, Father says to them. Make them hate me. Hate them back. Never trust. Demons lie.”
“Your father is a demon?”
Sam nodded. “Looking for me now. Feel it.”
“How?”
“Psychic.”
“You’re psychic? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Pamela. Saw her in your head first time. You don’t like how the Order looks at psychics. Didn’t want to be left behind.”
Dean pulled Imp to a stop and jumped down off the horse so he could stand face to face with Sam. “I’m not leaving you behind Sam, no matter what. But I need to know more.”
Sam nodded. “Everything Dean. Yours.”
Dean pulled him close, felt the slight shiver that went through him that Dean knew was relief, and pulled back just enough to press their lips together. There was no passion there, just the comfort that Sam needed, a reminder that he was cared for, that whatever this was, they’d face it together. When he looked up into Sam’s eyes, Sam finally gave him a real smile.
He mounted up then and they continued on their way. He felt lighter though, could see the way Sam’s steps were lighter as well. Maybe, just maybe he’d really gotten through. Maybe Sam realized he wasn’t getting left behind this time. If not, Dean had all kinds of time to prove it.
**
Sam’s past wasn’t something to listen to lightly and Dean winced more than once at the things he’d gone through as a child. He’d been taken from his mother at the age of six and he’d never seen her again. There were other children there but none that had Sam’s potential, his father often told them. All of them. It made things fierce between his siblings, always trying to one up the other to make their father look at them, but Sam took to things naturally and it showed. He didn’t have the killer instinct in the beginning and it was the one thing his father criticized him for. Until Sam was twelve. That was the year he learned that the demon hadn’t just taken Sam, but killed his entire family to make sure he never had anywhere else to turn. Sam had run then, took the only weapon his father feared, and ran. He hid the sword somewhere in the forest and no one had been able to find it. His father had tortured Sam but he didn’t give up the location.
He was put in a collar then, forced to the floor like one of the dogs. He lived off scraps when someone would throw them to him or he fought with the black dogs over them. He became the lesson all his siblings learned by, see how the high have fallen. In all that time though, Sam never gave up the location of the sword and he never forgot who he was.
Sam didn’t sleep that night but when Dean went to his bedroll, Sam was beside him, pulling Dean on top of him, lips demanding as his hands pushed away cloth and reached for flesh. It wasn’t the need for comfort, but the need to be claimed again and Dean didn’t hesitate to give Sam what he needed. In fact, after the telling he had his own need to remind Sam of where he belonged, of who would care for him from then on.
The next morning Sam was more settled and he told Dean more about his siblings. None remained in the forest, none but Sam who had never been allowed to leave. Sam was the strongest of them, the best hunter, and the fastest. His psychic gift was telekinesis, something he used as needed but it wasn’t something he was proud of. He associated it with his father and Dean could understand why he preferred not to use it.
Sam didn’t have a lot to tell and Dean didn’t push for much more than he offered. Instead, he talked about the forest as they walked, his voice quiet as he spoke of his favorite places. Dean let him talk, marveling at the way he’d learned to speak again, because of them and the bond between them.
When they reached the forest, Sam took the lead. He knew the way and he knew his father’s traps better than anyone. There was no telling what he’d managed to call back into the forest since Sam had left.
“He will have surprises,” Sam said as they sat staring at the fire the first night in. “He will know I was gone. He will… be unhappy.”
Dean would have laughed at the understatement but the haunted look in Sam’s eyes was nothing funny. “Sam, you don’t have to do this. I can do this myself, it’s what I’ve spent my life doing.”
“No De,” there was no anger in his voice but there was no fear either, just the determination to do what he must. “I do have to do this.” There was nothing else to say so Dean just nodded, letting Sam lead the way through the thick trees.
**
It had taken three weeks to travel back to the forest and another week inside before Sam brought to the edge of a small valley. There were three paths that made their way down and Sam picked what looked to be the hardest. “Less traps,” Sam whispered as they moved down the pathway. They’d heard the howling black dogs in the middle of the night two nights back and they knew another pack had been called in while they had been gone. Dean hadn’t seen any active sign of them so it seemed likely they were a new addition to the forest, still keeping to the center of their new territory until they learned it well enough to spread out.
The building at the center of the valley was more like a manor house, not a keep like the Order kept, but there was magic in the air. Dean could see the wards and spells written in blood the way an ordinary person could see words written in a book. The wrongness of each stood out even in the midst of a valley of wrong. Dean reached out as they stopped, Sam crouched low at his feet as Dean peered out across the way, his fingers tangling in Sam’s hair. Sam had become less susceptible to the evil Dean saw, but this place dripped with it in ways Dean had never seen before. He felt Sam’s soft shuddering breath and relaxed a little himself. He hated to admit that they’d been right, but the bond was Sam was grounding him here where his vision could have drove him over the edge into the madness that waited his kind.
When Dean pulled his hand away Sam looked up but didn’t speak, just nodded towards the clearing. There were other buildings along the way, enough that they could hide in shadows as they approached. Sam said his siblings had long gone and that worked to their benefit, but that didn’t mean the demon in there didn’t have anyone else to back him up.
Dean started to walk forward but Sam wasn’t moving. “Sam?”
“De,” Sam looked down at the small space between them, and then looked up. “Dean, whatever happens, I’m yours. I wouldn’t change that. No matter what Azazel does-“
“Azazel?”
“My father.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dean closed his eyes at the fury that suddenly ran through his veins. He kept his body still, kept himself from running forward because Sam was still with him and he wasn’t about to get them both killed, but it was a near thing.
“De?” There was a tone in his voice that spoke of panic and Dean looked down to see Sam’s hand gripping Dean’s wrist to pull the bond close.
“Azazel killed my mother.”
Sam’s hand moved up to his face, cupping his chin as he forced his eyes up. It struck him as funny at that moment, the way Sam was trying to make eye contact when Dean didn’t actually use his eyes for sight. Dean did use it as his focal point though, somehow forcing his second sight to take the form of something he’d never had and twisting it until it was natural to turn his head where he wanted to see, to allow the placement of his sightless eyes to dictate his field of vision unless he concentrated on it. “I’m so sorry.”
Dean shook his head, pulling away from Sam slightly. “Not your fault Sammy,” he said softly. “I just… they said he hid so deep they’d never heard from him again. I looked for him when I started hunting but they were right. He just disappeared. Now I know where he went.”
Sam didn’t say anything but when Dean started to turn away he pushed in front of him, taking the lead. He had to fight back his instinct to go charging in ahead of Sam and it was only partially because of his need for revenge. He knew though, that as much as he wanted to protect Sam and keep the demon from being able to hurt him again, he needed to let Sam take the point. Sam had a better chance at getting them in undetected and that could mean all the difference in the world on a hunt.
They made it into the valley without any trouble, though Sam had them sidestepping a few traps that were subtle enough to have fooled the unsuspecting. They didn’t head directly for the manor house though; instead Sam pulled them away into a thick bramble. It was a huge bush but it had been carved out at the center. The thick stems and tough leaves gave plenty of cover from prying eyes and though it was still a distance from the manor house, it gave them a clear view of it without putting them in danger until it was time to go in.
Sam settled into the ground, folding one leg underneath him and bending over the other, staring at the manor before he turned his attention back on Dean. Dean took a seat cross-legged on the floor of their cover and prepared himself for the wait. Dean might not be the most patient man in the world, but during a hunt his patience was absolute. They’d both agreed to wait until it was almost dawn before heading in to find the demon. Even if he didn’t keep his children there any longer, there were other powers about, lesser creatures that were at his call.
When it was time, Sam led Dean down to the Manor and in through a window in the kitchen. The room was too hot, but Sam and Dean made it in without detection. They moved through the Manor and Dean paused as he heard a loud moan through a doorway to their right. He nodded to Sam and they made their way to the door. Sam pulled it open and slipped in as Dean followed. He nearly ran into him when Sam stopped suddenly, body crouched low as if to defend himself.
Dean’s mouth fell open as he realized what he was seeing. The walls were lined with cage upon cage of prisoners. Each was held secure in their cell, most barely moving, some actively snarling at them as they watched. None of them look well fed and most sport bruises and blood stained clothes. Sam was still crouched at his side, but he pulled slightly closer and Dean didn’t try to stop himself as he reached down and tangled his hand in Sam’s hair. “Come on Sam, we gotta go.”
“Please,” Along the far wall a young woman reached her hand out from behind the bars of her prison. “Please, let us out of here.”
Once she said it, others picked up her call and more were standing, trying to make themselves heard. Sam looked at the door but Dean didn’t say anything, just got out his pick lock and started on the first lock. It might not be his brightest move, but he was going to send them running for the door. He had a demon to kill and he couldn’t get them out until that was done. This was the best he could do for them. After the demon was gone he and Sam could worry about the casualties.
He left three in their cages and when the first woman asked Dean just shook his head. “You don’t want them with you. They’re wrong.” They weren’t evil exactly, but they weren’t right anymore either. They were twisted into something Dean didn’t understand. He wasn’t going to free them.
“What are you doing here?” He asked her then. She took a deep breath and looked at the others. “I … we … we’re all psychics.”
“What does he want with you?”
“I don’t know. He just said he was looking for the right one.”
“Head out the back and make your way to the eastern edge of the valley. You’ll find a trail there that will lead you to the forest. Get out and go to the Keep of the Ordo Latro. They’ll take care of you, make sure the demon didn’t do anything else to hurt you.” She nodded and Dean had no idea if she would or not, hell he hoped she ran as far as she could from the Order if they really were psychics. “Get as many as you can out.”
She ran to the door where Sam was standing guard and he didn’t know what was said, but she waited on the others and Sam slipped out at the front of their line, leading them back to the kitchen. A minute later Sam was back at this side.
“Well at least that will be a distraction,” Dean said softly. Sam just nodded as they made their way out and into the hallway. The place was eerily quiet and Dean wanted to back away but there was only going to be one chance with this. His instincts told him something wasn’t right though. It was too easy.
The second story was just as quiet, rooms opening into nothing more than storage and empty living space. They were leaving one of the empty rooms when an explosion outside made the whole house shake. Dean turned to look at Sam and Sam shrugged. “I told her to be a good distraction.”
Dean wasn’t sure if he should curse him or kiss him, but the sound of heavy feet in the halls above made them both slip back into the room. He could hear the shouts of men and women running out and when Dean ran to the window the courtyard before the manor house was in chaos. One of the buildings was aflame and they were trying to put it out. The men had noticed the fire was moving from person to person though, noticed that it wasn’t a natural fire and they started looking for the psychics who had been freed.
“Now De,” Sam called him away from the window and up the stairs to the third floor. They ran down the hall, no longer playing at secrecy. Sam crouched low as he stopped Dean suddenly, his face tense as he looked down at him. “De,” he cleared his throat and looked down before meeting Dean’s eyes again. “Dean, trust me, no matter what?”
“Of course Sammy.”
Sam threw open the door and dropped to the ground his stance the same he’d seen a hundred times since they’d met, only his eyes held fear and instead of keeping his head up to look at Dean, his eyes were down on the ground as he ran across the room almost on all fours.
“Sam, it looks like you finally earned your keep.”
The demon sat watching the devastation in the courtyard for a minute, one hand stroking idly through Sam’s hair and Sam leaned into the touch. Dean felt his anger rising and he took a few steps forward before he felt an invisible wall keeping him back.
“The mighty Dean Campbell. Or should I say Dean Winchester? Its such a shame your father never claimed you. It would have been such a stroke to his ego to watch you bow to me.”
“It’ll never happen demon.”
The demon turned to look at him, yellow eyes flashing above a small cruel smile. “Your passion is attractive. I can see why my son took a liking to you. He showed me as much, after his first vision of you.” He looked down at Sam, a fond look like one would give a prize pet. “He was a disappointment for a very long time, but then came you Dean, a vision he said, a vision in black where you would open the world up for me.”
“Sam,” Dean looked at Sam but his lover wouldn’t look back at him and the bond between them was hazy, whether because of the demon or some trick Sam had always known, Dean had no idea. Sam had asked for his trust but Dean had been alone for so damn long. Could he trust Sam? Were the demon’s words true? Had Sam created something between them so he could bring him back, giving Dean over to the demon himself?
“Your gift is strong Dean, stronger than in any of the other psychics I’ve found. It happens, when you use a gift as exclusively as you use yours, the way you stretch your sight every day to make the world enfold you. I would have thought you dead when your mother’s death took your sight. To know that it was my legacy that gave you this sight, that it was my actions that forced you to make yourself strong,” he laughed lightly, pulling at Sam’s hair until the man bared his teeth at the pain, “it’s intoxicating.”
He pulled his hand away from Sam and walked away from the window, eyes taking in Dean’s sightless face. “And now, I can finally set my final plan in motion.”
“Just what do you think I’m gonna help you with?”
“You are going to open up a gateway for me hunter, a gateway to hell.”
“Over my dead body.”
Azazel stepped closer, pulling a knife from the desk beside him and smiled at Dean. “Yes, actually, it will be.” Sam whimpered behind him and the demon smiled. “I think he grew fond of you Dean. I’ve never seen my dog so unwilling to kill before.”
Dean couldn’t help but look back at Sam and as he did the man slowly stood, stretching his shoulders back to show off his full height. “I don’t know,” Dean said with a smirk, “he looked ready to me.”
Azazel turned to look down at Sam only to find his beaten dog towering over him. Sam growled deep in his throat and a hand lashed out towards Dean. Whatever he did cut off the invisible wall that had been holding Dean and he staggered back a step.
“You will obey me Sam.” The demon demanded. “You are my child, mine, and you will not disappoint me again.”
Dean saw the way Sam flinched at the words but he Sam didn’t back down. Instead, he smiled, a baring of teeth that wasn’t meant to be anything more. “Should have paid better attention to your dog,” Sam said softly, “you would have known what was coming in the end.”
Dean didn’t want for another chance, but pulled the steel from his belt. The demon heard it and turned to defend himself but Sam grabbed his arms and held him tight as Dean ran black steel through his heart.
Fire flared in the depths of the demon’s eyes, blue fire that seemed to eat it’s way through him. Sam leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I did have a vision of black, but it was never for you.” His eyes met Dean’s. “He was always mine. My vision of black steel and an end to you.”
There was no exhale of demon filth as Sam let go of the body and Dean stared at the sword in his hand before cleaning it quickly and sheathing it. Dean undid the belt that held the sheath in place and handed it to Sam. Sam just stared at him for a minute. “Sam, it’s yours. You deserve to wear it.”
Sam took two steps to close the distance and then his hands were pulling Dean in, their lips crashing together. “Your Dean,” Sam murmured into his lips. “Everything I am is yours. You killed him.”
“We did Sam,” Dean said, staring up into Sam’s hazel eyes. “We killed him.”
Sam gave him a small smile as he strapped the sword back at his waist. “Need to help them De.” Sam beckoned to the window where another war was still waging, the loosed psychics against those that had been willing under the demon’s control.
“You know what they say Sammy, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.”
It took almost four weeks to get them back to the Keep and Dean privately thought it was a good thing the psychics were all so tired and hungry. They were terrified of the Keep, of the rumors of the Ordo Latro but they were easy to control because of their time in the cages and the travel away from there. The Order would make sure they were fed and Dean had faith that Bobby and Father Jim would make sure they were treated well, no matter what else happened.
They’d been back almost three days before the Council had deigned to give him and audience and they’d tried to ban Sam at the door this time. Dean refused to walk in without him and finally the head of the council relented. It was as much Sam’s story to tell as his after all, even if Sam still refused to speak in front of any of them but Bobby and Father Jim.
They were done with it now though, done with the report and as far as Dean could see, done with this fight. Not that he could, or would, give up hunting, but there was more out there than just dancing on the Order’s strings. Sam was at his back, bare feet slapping in a familiar pattern on the stone floors as they came to stand outside of Dean’s quarters.
His hand was on the door to open it when Sam growled slowly, announcing the visitor. Dean looked up to see Elder Winchester coming towards him. Dean took a deep breath and nodded to the Elder.
“Dean, you can’t mean to do this.”
“I think my words were clear within the council’s chambers Elder. Sam and I will be available if you need us in an emergency, but I’m done living in these halls.”
“There is a lot of work to do.”
“Yes there is and we’ll still be doing it.”
“We. So you do mean to keep him with you.” Dean crossed his arms over his shoulders and Sam leaned back against the wall in a casual manner that made Dean twitch. “We cannot condone this Dean. This man is half-wild and of unknown allegiance. You can’t think a bond with him will ground you.”
“No, you mean I can’t think it will bind me to you. And it won’t. You want a way to tie me to the order you know how to do it Winchester,” Dean said with a sneer. “All it takes is a simple claim, one you will never be willing to make. I don’t need that anymore though. I know who I am, and I know where I belong. I don’t need the Order. I have Sam and that’s all I need.”
“I can’t stop you, but know this Dean. There will always be trouble between us, so long as Sam is here.”
Sam chose that moment to move up against Dean, pressing his front to Dean’s back and putting an arm over his chest in a sign of possession. “It’s good to know where we stand,” Sam said with a smile Dean could feel in his words. “Where Dean goes, I go. Wherever you look for him, I’ll be there. So long as he’s alive, I’ll be by his side. Until you’re willing to let this go, I don’t expect we’ll be seeing much of you.”
Dean didn’t bother hiding his smile. He wasn’t sure he could have anyway as he watched John Winchester’s mouth gape open in surprise at the talking wild man. Dean reached up and patted Sam’s hand. “Come on Sammy,” he said as they turned to walk out of the Keep. “We’ve got work to do."
It was one of the many things the Elders did that made Dean a less than perfect member of Ordo Latro. Dean was a hunter through and through, had been born and bred for it, but the Order wasn’t very friendly with psychics to begin with and they certainly had never known what to do with the blind child in their midst who wanted to learn to be a hunter. They knew less what to do with him when his abilities manifested at 12. He’d already learned how to navigate the world with his blindness by then though, knew how to tell their moods by the way their words were spoken, to know the emotions behind it by the silences and shuffling between the words. He knew when they lied, and perhaps worse to the Order than knowing, Dean confronted them about it.
So it was no surprise to find himself waiting most of the day for the Council to call him from his chambers. He had at least had time to dress Sam properly and instruct him on the proceedings, because no matter how informal they claimed to be, no meeting with the Council of Elders was ever completely informal.
He made his way, black pants and shirt clean and freshly pressed, his long duster breezing behind him with Sam’s sword strapped at his hip. Sam was at his back, a clean shirt, stretched tight over his chest showing the impressive muscle he had and new jeans replaced the poorly fitting clothes Dean had loaned him. His hair was clean, cut even, but still long and when Sam looking up from under his hair, he could still intimidate. Dean didn’t bother to try to look back at him, but his bare feet shifting on the rock gave away his position easily enough, just a step back and to the right of Dean. He was a shade too close to be considered proper for the Council, but Dean couldn’t care less. He was there to get out to a new hunt and to inform them that he no longer needed a partner.
**
The council members stood behind their raised desks, their eyes looking down as Dean walked into the room. It was more like an arena with the platform area above and the person seeking audience below. He wondered if it bothered the other hunters, to come in and have to look up like that, but Dean didn’t let the trick bother him. It never had. Maybe because he’d grown up in these halls. Maybe because Bobby used to sneak him up there sometimes and he’d play underneath the table or read his books hidden beneath his feet. Bobby was up there now of course, the last true hunter in the council. They’d all given up the life a while ago, stuck to research and libraries and telling others what to do and where to go. Bobby said they were pushing him to give in, to stop running off to play at a younger man’s game but he still held out.
Dean was grateful of at least one friendly face when they entered the room, having left Dean to wait there for them the past ten minutes. They really liked their games and especially with Dean who never did what he was supposed to.
They filtered in and Dean kept himself calm. He could feel Sam behind him, one step back and one step over. He closed his eyes for a moment and really looked at Sam without turning his head to give it away as he usually did. He stood stock still, straight as a board. His hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes were hard as he looked up at the men of the council. Nothing about him said ‘wild man’; nothing would make them think twice about him, except that he was an unknown.
When he opened his eyes he focused ahead of him, looking up at the Council members, twelve grizzled men who had once been hunters, who had failed in their lifetime to stop the darkness that surrounded them now. Twelve men trying to right the wrongs done to the world when hell was unleashed on their watch.
“Dean Campbell,” The head of the order spoke his name and Dean had to force himself not to flinch. When the man spoke even the gates of heaven felt cold and icy, his emotionless tone felt more at place at a funeral pyre than a meeting of peers. “Your last partner came back a full two weeks ago to report on the Olgave Lake assignment. Is there a reason we’re just getting you back now? Some problem you need to report?”
They wanted it to be. They wanted to know what Dean had gotten lost or had been robbed or something equally as mundane so they could try to force him to stay closer to the Keep, where they could keep an eye on him, on the abilities he had.
“Jo Harvelle left after we killed the third pack of black dogs in the lake area. The next day, I found another trail that I believed was fresh so I continued on without her.”
“She said there was a disagreement between you and you told her to go.”
Dean didn’t answer. There was nothing to say to that anyway. Jo had obviously told them about it and he was sure they knew what the fight had been about. He’d given her a choice to stay or go but they didn’t care about that.
“She said you refused to kill something in the woods, that you were letting sentimentality get in the way of the hunt.”
Dean scoffed at that. “She believed the creature was evil, even thought he had just saved me from a black dog. I told her I could see that he wasn’t evil, just wild, and she refused to believe.”
“We don’t allow evil creatures to stalk the world Campbell.” Elder Winchester said harshly. “What proof do you have, other than your sight, that the creature wasn’t evil?”
“When have we ever asked for more proof than his sight?” Bobby interjected from his seat at the far side of the council. Rumor said that once upon a time the two had been close. A disagreement sent John Winchester a step ahead of Bobby’s shotgun and since then their arguments on the council had become epic. Bobby never said if it was true or not, but Dean knew him well enough to see the look that sometimes passed his eyes when he looked at the head of the order. It looked a lot like regret.
“When we have to good hunters claiming something different.” Winchester stated evenly, though Dean was sure the Elder was thrilled to have a reason to question Dean.
“The creature Jo mentioned was nothing more than a man. He was not possessed, simply wild. He was aggressive in his fight against the black dogs and saved my life. I cannot attest to why Jo thought he was evil. There is, however, something else evil in those woods. We killed four packs of black dogs in the Olgave Lake forest. Something is calling them there, keeping them. I want to go back and find it, destroy whatever it is.”
“It’s hardly like you to leave a hunt and come back to the Council for permission.” Father Jim pointed out. Of the Elders at that council, Father Jim was the kindest of them. He had a fondness for Dean but Dean had grown out of the codling ways of the priest long before the second sight had come. Father Jim looked at him as someone who needed help, guidance, and physical support. He could never see Dean as anything more than the child he’d once been. Dean had a hard time being around him.
“Whatever is in those woods is big Father,” Dean said respectfully. “I thought the Council should know of it before I headed in.”
“Meaning you need new back up.” Elder Winchester took over the conversation again. “It will take time to find another hunter willing to work with you.”
Sam shuffled a little closer, still keeping his distance but it drew all eyes to him. “I have no need of back up. This is Sam, my partner and bondmate.” Dean smiled up at the Council then. “He is also the evil creature that Jo wanted to kill.”
**
“You are bound to keep this creature then?” The Elder asked.
“Yes.”
“Even against our wishes?”
“That I hunt at all is against your wishes.” Dean answered. “I’ll take him as mine whether you want it or not.”
“We could order him destroyed.”
Sam moved up behind him, a feral grown rumbled low in his throat and Dean smiled. “Try it.”
**
The council shuffled back and forth and their whispers about impudence and audacity and disrespect might have been better hidden had they remembered Dean’s gifts but they were old men, too far removed from the hunt to remember what it was like to have to move in the dark where a single snapped branch or a catch of the breath could give away your position to the creatures that hunted the night.
The whispers died down until finally the head of the council spoke again “You need to understand this, my child,” only a barely heard gasp breeched the silence as the Elder made use of the rumored connection between them.
Dean Campbell was nobody’s son; just a blind orphan left to the order when his mother, a hunter, had died at a demon’s hand. Rumor had it that she’d started an affair with a rising hunter to gain access to the inner circle, but no one would say if she had succeeded in winning the heart of John Winchester or not. If she had, if he had indeed sired a child by her, no one would ever suspect it from the way he treated Dean.
“Whatever this creature does, you are responsible for him now.” The Elder’s voice was solemn. “If you take him as yours, if you leave this room now, when the time comes to take his head, we will come for yours as well.”
Dean bowed his head slightly as he turned, Sam moving automatically to find his place at Dean’s back. “Come on Sammy,” he said as he stalked out of the room.
“Dean, this creature will be the death of you. He will steal everything that you are.”
Sam let loose a laughing howl and Dean smiled as he continued walking. The doors shut behind him bringing with it a sense of finality and Dean breathed in the cold mountain air as he gazed across the darkened sky.
Steal everything he was? They had no idea. With this bond between them there was nothing Sam could steal that Dean wouldn’t give willingly.
**
Dean stared down at the woman before him and let his eyes close, using his second sight the way she’d begun to teach him so many years before. She wasn’t awake to recognize him, but whenever he dropped his shields there was a sense of something, of ease or recognition that made Dean hope she’d some day wake. He wasn’t sure if he hoped for it or not. He didn’t think the Elders would let her go the way they did Dean. If the day came, Dean would be forced to choose between setting her free and abiding by the Council law. If the day ever came to pass, he was sure it would be the last time he was welcome in the Keep.
Sam was moving at the back of the room, his fingers brushing over the words of tomes that had been left out by the others. It was a room to study, a room to learn, and Sam was fascinated by the text there.
“What are you looking at, Samuel?”
Dean looked up to see Father Jim walk in, though his eyes were entirely on Sam. Sam eyed the man a moment and looked back at Dean. Dean just gave a half shrug with a crooked smile. Father Jim wasn’t a bad man, nor was he the hard ass the rest of the Council tried to be. Dean just didn’t like his brand of pity.
“Bond,” Sam said softly as he pointed to the book. “Psychic bond. Just reading about it.”
“I wasn’t aware that you could read.”
Sam smiled at Jim, something amused. “I wasn’t aware Council cared. Want to hunt me, kill me like an evil thing.”
Jim’s smile faded and Dean could see the edge coming out in him.
“Leave him be Jim,” Dean said softly as he continued to look at Pamela. “Just because the Council wasn’t interested in learning about him doesn’t mean he isn’t worth knowing.”
“I’m interested,” Jim said just as quietly. “You do tend to attract the strange ones Dean.”
Dean let out a huff of bitter laughter. “Lets hope it ends better this time.”
“You didn’t do this to her.”
“No, I didn’t. But I couldn’t stop it.”
It was an old fight and one Dean was glad to see Jim drop.
“So, bondmate?”
Dean cringed. He really didn’t want to have this discussion but he should have known the Council wouldn’t let him go without getting more information. Bobby would never turn his back on Dean and they knew it so they’d send Father Jim instead. It was comfort of a sort, that Bobby still thought of him over the Council and that Father Jim still cared enough to be the first one to come to him.
“You were constantly telling me I needed a partner. I finally found one and you don’t like it?”
Jim shook his head. “Just amused at your choice.”
They both looked up as Sam growled softly from the other side of the room, watching them over the top of the book he was perusing.
Sam’s eyes reached his and Dean didn’t try to pull away from the look. Instead he just continued talking to the Elder. “He’s unlike anything you’ve ever met. He took out an entire pack of black dogs to get my attention. Didn’t balk at walking away from the forest he’d lived his whole life. He followed me through it all without complaint. Whatever he is, he’s loyal and good and a hunter the likes of which the Order should be proud to have.”
Sam’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “You have me. Don’t need Order.”
Dean smiled at that. “That’s for damn sure Sammy.”
He couldn’t look away for a minute. Sam was the only one who held his gaze long, the only one who didn’t see sightless, murky white eyes, but saw past all that.
Father Jim coughed and Sam looked away as if he expected something to attack. It was the hunted way Sam moved, in the way he viewed the world, that made Dean want to go back to the forest so bad. Whatever had happened to Sam, the creature there was responsible for it and Dean wanted to make him pay for that, for every deep growl Sam let out and every attack he imagined throughout the day.
“The Council is willing to back you up on this mission Dean. Supplies are being readied for you. If there is anything special you need, let me know and I’ll see to it they’ve stocked it for you. Winchester thinks you mean to leave tonight. Singer said in the morning. When should I have everything ready?”
Dean looked at Sam and the way his fingers brushed over the words, almost as if they were the Braille that Dean read. Sam would probably like Braille. He was tactile, enjoyed the physical feel of things. He shook his head at his own romantic notions and looked at Jim. “In the morning. I think I might have to fight Sam if I don’t give him at least a night to read.”
“About that,”
“I don’t know Jim,” Dean admitted honestly. “He hasn’t offered up any details about his past and I haven’t asked.”
“You think that’s a good idea, considering where you’re about to go?”
“Plenty of time on the journey there old man.”
Father Jim let out a small laugh. “You always did like to throw yourself into things half blind.”
Dean didn’t have to look at him to see the flinch as soon as the words were out. “Sometimes half-blind is the only way to be. Sometimes people have the whole story and still can’t see what it means. Maybe there are still some things I can’t see,” Dean added, looking back over at Sam, “but Sam sees the rest for me now. Don’t need anything more than that.”
“He’s good for you.”
“I thought the Council didn’t approve?”
“Elder Winchester doesn’t approve. The Council is withholding judgment. Elder Singer approves of him and after watching the two of you together, I do too. Wild or not, he’ll take on the world for you Dean. It’s not a gift many people receive in this world. It’s not something many people give, but I see it in both of you. Maybe the books were right. Maybe, just maybe, you needed to find this bond to settle your wandering ways.”
Sam let out a howling laugh and Dean didn’t bother to hold his back. “Maybe Father Jim, or maybe it set me on the path I’ve always been following. I’m more at home in the wild than the Keep. I think Sam and I will do just fine the way we are.”
Their leave taking was done before most of the Keep was awake. The staff was busy in the kitchen but other than Bobby and Father Jim there was no one to say farewell to. He knew if he went up and knocked that Elder Winchester would be awake, that he would be watching out the high window of the Keep where his rooms were, watching them go. He knew if he looked with his second sight that he would see him there, face impassive as ever. His second sight saw more than just that though and it was perhaps that sight that made him want to leave the Keep as soon as possible. The knowledge that no matter what he said or did, no matter how good he was, no matter that they both knew the rumor were true, he would never be able to call the man father.
Sam rode an old mare out of the Keep but Dean knew before long his partner would be running alongside them instead of riding. He didn’t like riding the beasts any better than they liked the wild man on them but he did his best to appear like the man he could be while they were in the Keep. Dean wasn’t sure if he appreciated Sam’s attempt to fit into that life or if he resented it.
In his mare’s saddle packs were his regular supplies, enough to keep him going should they lose each other and the pack animal along the way, but tucked in tenderly with his spare clothes were a couple of books that Bobby had managed to sneak out to him. He told Dean there were extra copies of the text lying around and one had been on psychics which had fascinated Sam. The other was on demons, which Sam seemed to be as engrossed in as he was repulsed by it. Bobby pointed out the likelihood that Sam had had dealings with one in the past but Dean didn’t need Bobby to figure that one out.
The weather was holding well as the harsher edge of fall was creeping up on them and Dean watched as Sam slid off the mare and tied her to the pack horse so she wouldn’t stray away from them. He came up to Dean and placed his hand on his leg, letting it rest there as they walked. It seemed to help keep the ugliness at bay for Sam. The way Dean saw the world crept through the bond to Sam and while Dean had grown immune to the nauseating flashes of lightning and the dark gray clouds, it was still new to Sam.
“Alright Sam?” Dean asked as he looked down at him. It was a novel experience since Sam towered over him and Sam quirked his lips up as if reading Dean’s thoughts.
“Good,” his words were soft, thoughtful. “Doing the right thing,” he added after a moment, “going back home to kill the evil creature.”
Dean smiled, wondering what Jo would think of Sam’s joke. She’d been an alright partner up until then. Not near as good as Sam with the way he accepted Dean’s sight and never second guessed his word, but she’d been about as good as the Order was ever going to send him. In time, they probably could have developed something. He had Sam though and Jo was probably happy wherever she was, hunting without him.
“Speaking of which, you wanna tell me what we’re up against here?” Sam looked up quickly then looked away. “I didn’t want to force you to talk about it but we’ve got a lot better chance of coming out of this alive if we know what it is.”
Sam took a shuddering breath and Dean could see the way he steeled himself. “Father.”
“Your father?”
Sam nodded then shrugged. “Took me from mother as a child. Brought me here, taught me. Raised me.”
There was something sad in his voice and Dean wasn’t sure how to take that. “He turned you into a wild beast Sam. He didn’t care for you.”
Sam sighed. “Did once. Before. I stole something from him.”
“Why?”
“Wanted me to be like him but father isn’t good. Evil. Can see it, even with plain eyes,” Sam looked up, a small smile on his face. “Took because it was the only thing he was afraid of. Hurt me after that. Didn’t trust me, but only I knew where it was. Couldn’t kill me, couldn’t make me tell. Make me like the black dogs, other children see and do better. None so smart as Sam though, Father says to them. Make them hate me. Hate them back. Never trust. Demons lie.”
“Your father is a demon?”
Sam nodded. “Looking for me now. Feel it.”
“How?”
“Psychic.”
“You’re psychic? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Pamela. Saw her in your head first time. You don’t like how the Order looks at psychics. Didn’t want to be left behind.”
Dean pulled Imp to a stop and jumped down off the horse so he could stand face to face with Sam. “I’m not leaving you behind Sam, no matter what. But I need to know more.”
Sam nodded. “Everything Dean. Yours.”
Dean pulled him close, felt the slight shiver that went through him that Dean knew was relief, and pulled back just enough to press their lips together. There was no passion there, just the comfort that Sam needed, a reminder that he was cared for, that whatever this was, they’d face it together. When he looked up into Sam’s eyes, Sam finally gave him a real smile.
He mounted up then and they continued on their way. He felt lighter though, could see the way Sam’s steps were lighter as well. Maybe, just maybe he’d really gotten through. Maybe Sam realized he wasn’t getting left behind this time. If not, Dean had all kinds of time to prove it.
**
Sam’s past wasn’t something to listen to lightly and Dean winced more than once at the things he’d gone through as a child. He’d been taken from his mother at the age of six and he’d never seen her again. There were other children there but none that had Sam’s potential, his father often told them. All of them. It made things fierce between his siblings, always trying to one up the other to make their father look at them, but Sam took to things naturally and it showed. He didn’t have the killer instinct in the beginning and it was the one thing his father criticized him for. Until Sam was twelve. That was the year he learned that the demon hadn’t just taken Sam, but killed his entire family to make sure he never had anywhere else to turn. Sam had run then, took the only weapon his father feared, and ran. He hid the sword somewhere in the forest and no one had been able to find it. His father had tortured Sam but he didn’t give up the location.
He was put in a collar then, forced to the floor like one of the dogs. He lived off scraps when someone would throw them to him or he fought with the black dogs over them. He became the lesson all his siblings learned by, see how the high have fallen. In all that time though, Sam never gave up the location of the sword and he never forgot who he was.
Sam didn’t sleep that night but when Dean went to his bedroll, Sam was beside him, pulling Dean on top of him, lips demanding as his hands pushed away cloth and reached for flesh. It wasn’t the need for comfort, but the need to be claimed again and Dean didn’t hesitate to give Sam what he needed. In fact, after the telling he had his own need to remind Sam of where he belonged, of who would care for him from then on.
The next morning Sam was more settled and he told Dean more about his siblings. None remained in the forest, none but Sam who had never been allowed to leave. Sam was the strongest of them, the best hunter, and the fastest. His psychic gift was telekinesis, something he used as needed but it wasn’t something he was proud of. He associated it with his father and Dean could understand why he preferred not to use it.
Sam didn’t have a lot to tell and Dean didn’t push for much more than he offered. Instead, he talked about the forest as they walked, his voice quiet as he spoke of his favorite places. Dean let him talk, marveling at the way he’d learned to speak again, because of them and the bond between them.
When they reached the forest, Sam took the lead. He knew the way and he knew his father’s traps better than anyone. There was no telling what he’d managed to call back into the forest since Sam had left.
“He will have surprises,” Sam said as they sat staring at the fire the first night in. “He will know I was gone. He will… be unhappy.”
Dean would have laughed at the understatement but the haunted look in Sam’s eyes was nothing funny. “Sam, you don’t have to do this. I can do this myself, it’s what I’ve spent my life doing.”
“No De,” there was no anger in his voice but there was no fear either, just the determination to do what he must. “I do have to do this.” There was nothing else to say so Dean just nodded, letting Sam lead the way through the thick trees.
**
It had taken three weeks to travel back to the forest and another week inside before Sam brought to the edge of a small valley. There were three paths that made their way down and Sam picked what looked to be the hardest. “Less traps,” Sam whispered as they moved down the pathway. They’d heard the howling black dogs in the middle of the night two nights back and they knew another pack had been called in while they had been gone. Dean hadn’t seen any active sign of them so it seemed likely they were a new addition to the forest, still keeping to the center of their new territory until they learned it well enough to spread out.
The building at the center of the valley was more like a manor house, not a keep like the Order kept, but there was magic in the air. Dean could see the wards and spells written in blood the way an ordinary person could see words written in a book. The wrongness of each stood out even in the midst of a valley of wrong. Dean reached out as they stopped, Sam crouched low at his feet as Dean peered out across the way, his fingers tangling in Sam’s hair. Sam had become less susceptible to the evil Dean saw, but this place dripped with it in ways Dean had never seen before. He felt Sam’s soft shuddering breath and relaxed a little himself. He hated to admit that they’d been right, but the bond was Sam was grounding him here where his vision could have drove him over the edge into the madness that waited his kind.
When Dean pulled his hand away Sam looked up but didn’t speak, just nodded towards the clearing. There were other buildings along the way, enough that they could hide in shadows as they approached. Sam said his siblings had long gone and that worked to their benefit, but that didn’t mean the demon in there didn’t have anyone else to back him up.
Dean started to walk forward but Sam wasn’t moving. “Sam?”
“De,” Sam looked down at the small space between them, and then looked up. “Dean, whatever happens, I’m yours. I wouldn’t change that. No matter what Azazel does-“
“Azazel?”
“My father.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dean closed his eyes at the fury that suddenly ran through his veins. He kept his body still, kept himself from running forward because Sam was still with him and he wasn’t about to get them both killed, but it was a near thing.
“De?” There was a tone in his voice that spoke of panic and Dean looked down to see Sam’s hand gripping Dean’s wrist to pull the bond close.
“Azazel killed my mother.”
Sam’s hand moved up to his face, cupping his chin as he forced his eyes up. It struck him as funny at that moment, the way Sam was trying to make eye contact when Dean didn’t actually use his eyes for sight. Dean did use it as his focal point though, somehow forcing his second sight to take the form of something he’d never had and twisting it until it was natural to turn his head where he wanted to see, to allow the placement of his sightless eyes to dictate his field of vision unless he concentrated on it. “I’m so sorry.”
Dean shook his head, pulling away from Sam slightly. “Not your fault Sammy,” he said softly. “I just… they said he hid so deep they’d never heard from him again. I looked for him when I started hunting but they were right. He just disappeared. Now I know where he went.”
Sam didn’t say anything but when Dean started to turn away he pushed in front of him, taking the lead. He had to fight back his instinct to go charging in ahead of Sam and it was only partially because of his need for revenge. He knew though, that as much as he wanted to protect Sam and keep the demon from being able to hurt him again, he needed to let Sam take the point. Sam had a better chance at getting them in undetected and that could mean all the difference in the world on a hunt.
They made it into the valley without any trouble, though Sam had them sidestepping a few traps that were subtle enough to have fooled the unsuspecting. They didn’t head directly for the manor house though; instead Sam pulled them away into a thick bramble. It was a huge bush but it had been carved out at the center. The thick stems and tough leaves gave plenty of cover from prying eyes and though it was still a distance from the manor house, it gave them a clear view of it without putting them in danger until it was time to go in.
Sam settled into the ground, folding one leg underneath him and bending over the other, staring at the manor before he turned his attention back on Dean. Dean took a seat cross-legged on the floor of their cover and prepared himself for the wait. Dean might not be the most patient man in the world, but during a hunt his patience was absolute. They’d both agreed to wait until it was almost dawn before heading in to find the demon. Even if he didn’t keep his children there any longer, there were other powers about, lesser creatures that were at his call.
When it was time, Sam led Dean down to the Manor and in through a window in the kitchen. The room was too hot, but Sam and Dean made it in without detection. They moved through the Manor and Dean paused as he heard a loud moan through a doorway to their right. He nodded to Sam and they made their way to the door. Sam pulled it open and slipped in as Dean followed. He nearly ran into him when Sam stopped suddenly, body crouched low as if to defend himself.
Dean’s mouth fell open as he realized what he was seeing. The walls were lined with cage upon cage of prisoners. Each was held secure in their cell, most barely moving, some actively snarling at them as they watched. None of them look well fed and most sport bruises and blood stained clothes. Sam was still crouched at his side, but he pulled slightly closer and Dean didn’t try to stop himself as he reached down and tangled his hand in Sam’s hair. “Come on Sam, we gotta go.”
“Please,” Along the far wall a young woman reached her hand out from behind the bars of her prison. “Please, let us out of here.”
Once she said it, others picked up her call and more were standing, trying to make themselves heard. Sam looked at the door but Dean didn’t say anything, just got out his pick lock and started on the first lock. It might not be his brightest move, but he was going to send them running for the door. He had a demon to kill and he couldn’t get them out until that was done. This was the best he could do for them. After the demon was gone he and Sam could worry about the casualties.
He left three in their cages and when the first woman asked Dean just shook his head. “You don’t want them with you. They’re wrong.” They weren’t evil exactly, but they weren’t right anymore either. They were twisted into something Dean didn’t understand. He wasn’t going to free them.
“What are you doing here?” He asked her then. She took a deep breath and looked at the others. “I … we … we’re all psychics.”
“What does he want with you?”
“I don’t know. He just said he was looking for the right one.”
“Head out the back and make your way to the eastern edge of the valley. You’ll find a trail there that will lead you to the forest. Get out and go to the Keep of the Ordo Latro. They’ll take care of you, make sure the demon didn’t do anything else to hurt you.” She nodded and Dean had no idea if she would or not, hell he hoped she ran as far as she could from the Order if they really were psychics. “Get as many as you can out.”
She ran to the door where Sam was standing guard and he didn’t know what was said, but she waited on the others and Sam slipped out at the front of their line, leading them back to the kitchen. A minute later Sam was back at this side.
“Well at least that will be a distraction,” Dean said softly. Sam just nodded as they made their way out and into the hallway. The place was eerily quiet and Dean wanted to back away but there was only going to be one chance with this. His instincts told him something wasn’t right though. It was too easy.
The second story was just as quiet, rooms opening into nothing more than storage and empty living space. They were leaving one of the empty rooms when an explosion outside made the whole house shake. Dean turned to look at Sam and Sam shrugged. “I told her to be a good distraction.”
Dean wasn’t sure if he should curse him or kiss him, but the sound of heavy feet in the halls above made them both slip back into the room. He could hear the shouts of men and women running out and when Dean ran to the window the courtyard before the manor house was in chaos. One of the buildings was aflame and they were trying to put it out. The men had noticed the fire was moving from person to person though, noticed that it wasn’t a natural fire and they started looking for the psychics who had been freed.
“Now De,” Sam called him away from the window and up the stairs to the third floor. They ran down the hall, no longer playing at secrecy. Sam crouched low as he stopped Dean suddenly, his face tense as he looked down at him. “De,” he cleared his throat and looked down before meeting Dean’s eyes again. “Dean, trust me, no matter what?”
“Of course Sammy.”
Sam threw open the door and dropped to the ground his stance the same he’d seen a hundred times since they’d met, only his eyes held fear and instead of keeping his head up to look at Dean, his eyes were down on the ground as he ran across the room almost on all fours.
“Sam, it looks like you finally earned your keep.”
The demon sat watching the devastation in the courtyard for a minute, one hand stroking idly through Sam’s hair and Sam leaned into the touch. Dean felt his anger rising and he took a few steps forward before he felt an invisible wall keeping him back.
“The mighty Dean Campbell. Or should I say Dean Winchester? Its such a shame your father never claimed you. It would have been such a stroke to his ego to watch you bow to me.”
“It’ll never happen demon.”
The demon turned to look at him, yellow eyes flashing above a small cruel smile. “Your passion is attractive. I can see why my son took a liking to you. He showed me as much, after his first vision of you.” He looked down at Sam, a fond look like one would give a prize pet. “He was a disappointment for a very long time, but then came you Dean, a vision he said, a vision in black where you would open the world up for me.”
“Sam,” Dean looked at Sam but his lover wouldn’t look back at him and the bond between them was hazy, whether because of the demon or some trick Sam had always known, Dean had no idea. Sam had asked for his trust but Dean had been alone for so damn long. Could he trust Sam? Were the demon’s words true? Had Sam created something between them so he could bring him back, giving Dean over to the demon himself?
“Your gift is strong Dean, stronger than in any of the other psychics I’ve found. It happens, when you use a gift as exclusively as you use yours, the way you stretch your sight every day to make the world enfold you. I would have thought you dead when your mother’s death took your sight. To know that it was my legacy that gave you this sight, that it was my actions that forced you to make yourself strong,” he laughed lightly, pulling at Sam’s hair until the man bared his teeth at the pain, “it’s intoxicating.”
He pulled his hand away from Sam and walked away from the window, eyes taking in Dean’s sightless face. “And now, I can finally set my final plan in motion.”
“Just what do you think I’m gonna help you with?”
“You are going to open up a gateway for me hunter, a gateway to hell.”
“Over my dead body.”
Azazel stepped closer, pulling a knife from the desk beside him and smiled at Dean. “Yes, actually, it will be.” Sam whimpered behind him and the demon smiled. “I think he grew fond of you Dean. I’ve never seen my dog so unwilling to kill before.”
Dean couldn’t help but look back at Sam and as he did the man slowly stood, stretching his shoulders back to show off his full height. “I don’t know,” Dean said with a smirk, “he looked ready to me.”
Azazel turned to look down at Sam only to find his beaten dog towering over him. Sam growled deep in his throat and a hand lashed out towards Dean. Whatever he did cut off the invisible wall that had been holding Dean and he staggered back a step.
“You will obey me Sam.” The demon demanded. “You are my child, mine, and you will not disappoint me again.”
Dean saw the way Sam flinched at the words but he Sam didn’t back down. Instead, he smiled, a baring of teeth that wasn’t meant to be anything more. “Should have paid better attention to your dog,” Sam said softly, “you would have known what was coming in the end.”
Dean didn’t want for another chance, but pulled the steel from his belt. The demon heard it and turned to defend himself but Sam grabbed his arms and held him tight as Dean ran black steel through his heart.
Fire flared in the depths of the demon’s eyes, blue fire that seemed to eat it’s way through him. Sam leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I did have a vision of black, but it was never for you.” His eyes met Dean’s. “He was always mine. My vision of black steel and an end to you.”
There was no exhale of demon filth as Sam let go of the body and Dean stared at the sword in his hand before cleaning it quickly and sheathing it. Dean undid the belt that held the sheath in place and handed it to Sam. Sam just stared at him for a minute. “Sam, it’s yours. You deserve to wear it.”
Sam took two steps to close the distance and then his hands were pulling Dean in, their lips crashing together. “Your Dean,” Sam murmured into his lips. “Everything I am is yours. You killed him.”
“We did Sam,” Dean said, staring up into Sam’s hazel eyes. “We killed him.”
Sam gave him a small smile as he strapped the sword back at his waist. “Need to help them De.” Sam beckoned to the window where another war was still waging, the loosed psychics against those that had been willing under the demon’s control.
“You know what they say Sammy, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.”
It took almost four weeks to get them back to the Keep and Dean privately thought it was a good thing the psychics were all so tired and hungry. They were terrified of the Keep, of the rumors of the Ordo Latro but they were easy to control because of their time in the cages and the travel away from there. The Order would make sure they were fed and Dean had faith that Bobby and Father Jim would make sure they were treated well, no matter what else happened.
They’d been back almost three days before the Council had deigned to give him and audience and they’d tried to ban Sam at the door this time. Dean refused to walk in without him and finally the head of the council relented. It was as much Sam’s story to tell as his after all, even if Sam still refused to speak in front of any of them but Bobby and Father Jim.
They were done with it now though, done with the report and as far as Dean could see, done with this fight. Not that he could, or would, give up hunting, but there was more out there than just dancing on the Order’s strings. Sam was at his back, bare feet slapping in a familiar pattern on the stone floors as they came to stand outside of Dean’s quarters.
His hand was on the door to open it when Sam growled slowly, announcing the visitor. Dean looked up to see Elder Winchester coming towards him. Dean took a deep breath and nodded to the Elder.
“Dean, you can’t mean to do this.”
“I think my words were clear within the council’s chambers Elder. Sam and I will be available if you need us in an emergency, but I’m done living in these halls.”
“There is a lot of work to do.”
“Yes there is and we’ll still be doing it.”
“We. So you do mean to keep him with you.” Dean crossed his arms over his shoulders and Sam leaned back against the wall in a casual manner that made Dean twitch. “We cannot condone this Dean. This man is half-wild and of unknown allegiance. You can’t think a bond with him will ground you.”
“No, you mean I can’t think it will bind me to you. And it won’t. You want a way to tie me to the order you know how to do it Winchester,” Dean said with a sneer. “All it takes is a simple claim, one you will never be willing to make. I don’t need that anymore though. I know who I am, and I know where I belong. I don’t need the Order. I have Sam and that’s all I need.”
“I can’t stop you, but know this Dean. There will always be trouble between us, so long as Sam is here.”
Sam chose that moment to move up against Dean, pressing his front to Dean’s back and putting an arm over his chest in a sign of possession. “It’s good to know where we stand,” Sam said with a smile Dean could feel in his words. “Where Dean goes, I go. Wherever you look for him, I’ll be there. So long as he’s alive, I’ll be by his side. Until you’re willing to let this go, I don’t expect we’ll be seeing much of you.”
Dean didn’t bother hiding his smile. He wasn’t sure he could have anyway as he watched John Winchester’s mouth gape open in surprise at the talking wild man. Dean reached up and patted Sam’s hand. “Come on Sammy,” he said as they turned to walk out of the Keep. “We’ve got work to do."