Stole Soul Picnic 3/?
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Chapter 2
Soul Man
“Souls,” said Salim once everyone was in the conference room and the initial sitrep had been delivered. “It is all about the souls.”
“How do you mean?” O’Neill asked.
“As Gabriel told you, Hell is in chaos. Few remaining demons have the inherent power needed to impose their rule on the others; they require the energy of souls to augment their own. But there are not enough non-demonic souls in Hell to support all the claimants or even to break the impasse. Some have begun searching for a route to Purgatory. Others feared that to do so would attract too much attention, especially from us. But the demon who possessed Mr. Coolidge had another idea: collecting souls at their source before they could be claimed by anyone else-Reapers included. And he and his followers are not particular as to what kind of souls they take. No sentient life form is safe-Goa’uld, Tok’ra, Unas, the Pegasus Asgard, Wraith, even the creatures encountered by Destiny.”
“They may even attempt to force ascended beings back to a plane where those souls can be harvested,” Dishon added.
“Is Vihanta secure?” Landry asked.
“For now. But it may not remain so long. There are few Icarus-class planets known to the Alliance that are stable enough even to attempt dialing Destiny without attracting the attention of the Tau’ri. Vihanta is both the most stable and the only inhabited planet, making it ideal for both the Alliance and the demons.”
“Do you have Gate addresses for the others?”
Dishon handed the data crystal to Landry. “That is all the information we had gathered during our time on Vihanta.”
Landry nodded. “Good. We’ll start working on securing these sites.”
“That should halt any attempt to enter the ship through the Stargate,” Salim allowed. “But that is not the only point of entry for Destiny from this galaxy.”
O’Neill frowned. “You think the demons will try to use the communication stones?”
“As a last resort, yes. Of course, neither we nor they have any idea whether demons can ride the host’s consciousness across such a link, but they may well attempt it.”
O’Neill nodded. “All right. We’ll beef up security at Homeworld Command. Now, you mentioned the Pegasus races. Have there been any attempts to dial into Atlantis?”
Sam stepped forward. “No, sir, and we don’t think they’ll try. Odds are they’ll aim to find a ZPM and dial from the far edge of the Milky Way to the near edge of Pegasus. But I couldn’t begin to guess whether they’d try for the planet that was part of the Gate Bridge or some other one.”
“Or which other one,” Dishon agreed. “Yet they must know that the Pegasus Asgard don’t use the Stargates and confine themselves to dead worlds.”
“So they’d be aiming for a planet where they could get ships.”
“Wraith, Genii, or Travelers.”
“Most likely. Unless there’s more of RepliWeir’s information on other cultures in the SGC’s Earthside system than we know. Hell’s limited to what Coolidge would have access to, and the Coalition doesn’t have too many worlds that are that technologically advanced.”
O’Neill blinked. “RepliWeir?”
“Dean’s term,” Sam and Dishon chorused.
“Oh.-Speaking of Dean....”
Dishon sighed. “He is awake and aware, but he is taking Mary’s death quite hard. He lost a dear friend on Earth the same way, not quite two years ago. And he blames himself, though none of us could have known about the hellhound.”
“Dishon is right, Dean,” said Cas. “Azrael had made no mention of hellhounds. I might have come with you if he had.”
Dean finally came forward at that. “C’mon, Cas. You know it wouldn’t have been smart. Gabriel said as much.”
“Do you really think I would have let you face hellhounds alone if I had known, after what happened in Carthage?”
They locked eyes for a long moment. Then the corners of Dean’s mouth twitched upward a little. “Thanks, dude.”
O’Neill cleared his throat. “Look, you two-four-have some leave coming. Why don’t you take the weekend to go to Sioux Falls and get some rest? If Singer’s got any intel, great, but otherwise, let us work out where to go from here.”
“You sure?” Dean began.
But Gabriel cut his voice off before he could object further, though Sam wasn’t sure whether the objection was going to involve ‘being fine’ or having more intel to offer, neither of which would be true. Instead, once Dean turned an annoyed glare to the Trickster archangel, Gabriel said, “He’s sure, and I don’t want to hear it. Just nod your head and say ‘Thank you,’ Dean.”
That provoked a mischievous sparkle in Dean’s eyes as he nodded, and when Gabriel restored his voice, he parroted, “Thank you, Dean.”
Gabriel slapped a hand over his eyes, and Teal’c actually laughed.
“Walked into that one, didn’t I, big guy?” Gabriel groaned.
“Indeed,” Teal’c replied, still chuckling.
O’Neill was trying not to laugh himself and was about to fail. “Get outta here,” he ordered.
The Winchesters saluted, and the meeting broke up. Cas flitted back to Atlantis to get the brothers’ gear before the Gate shut down. He returned just as Sam, Dean, and Gabriel stepped out of the briefing room, at which point Gabriel snapped his fingers. And suddenly brothers and angels were standing outside Bobby’s house.
Sam sighed. “Face the Music, Part One.”
“We’re not s’posed to be home until Thanksgiving,” Dean agreed, sounding a little plaintive. “He’s gonna know something’s wrong.”
“When do you idjits show up when somethin’ ain’t wrong?” Bobby said gruffly from behind them, and Sam found himself being pulled around into a hug. “Hell, boy, makin’ m’hair stand on end,” he added into Sam’s shoulder before releasing him. “And Salim’s back in there, ain’t he?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, and sorry about the EMF.”
“Save it.” Bobby hugged Dean next. “Aw, hell, son, what is wrong?” he asked as he backed away. “And don’t you dare say you’re fine; ain’t felt you shake like that since-”
“Since Carthage?” Dean offered.
Bobby looked around at all of them. “Get in this house. Too damn hot to stand around outside yakkin’.”
The brothers sighed in unison and followed Bobby into the house, trailed by the angels. Then Bobby got out the whiskey, exchanged greetings with the Tok’ra, and made Cas tell the whole story. Gabriel filled in some commentary, as did Sam, but Dean didn’t even bother to drink anything. He was clearly sliding into shock again.
Bobby nodded slowly once the tale was told, then sighed. “Well, I ain’t got much for you. Startin’ to see some crazy monster activity-had three wraith reports last week-but that might have more to do with this bunch that’s goin’ after Purgatory. But I can check with Rufus and a few other friends, see what they know.”
Gabriel nodded. “Yeah, Purgatory could be a problem if they were actually able to break through. There’s stuff stashed in there that even I’ve never heard of. But that’s not a matter for the SGC.”
“Well, we’re here for the weekend,” said Sam. “Anything you need my help with, Bobby? Any research I can do?”
Bobby shrugged. “Sure I can find somethin’. Dean?”
Dean looked kind of lost until Dishon evidently whispered a suggestion that made his eyes light up. “Actually? I think I’m gonna go for a drive. Haven’t seen my car in way too long.”
Sam smiled at that.
“You want to come, Sammy?”
Say no, Salim whispered suddenly. If Lisa still lives here, I think I know what Dishon is up to.
She does, Sam thought back, catching on, and cleared his throat. “Nah. Not right now. I know you three have a lot to catch up on.”
Dean blinked. “Three?”
“You, Dishon, and the car.”
Dean snorted but smiled anyway.
Bobby tossed him the keys. “You see Lisa, tell her I still owe her for the meatloaf.”
Dean looked a little bewildered at that. “O-kay. Later.” And he left.
“Meatloaf?” Sam, Gabriel, and Cas asked at the same time once the door was closed.
Bobby shrugged. “Had to remind him somehow, didn’t I?”
Sam laughed.
Lisa was just walking in her front door when she heard the rumble of the Impala pull up behind her. She paused just inside the door and turned, expecting Bobby, and startled when Dean, still in uniform, got out of the car and jogged up the walk.
“Hey, Lis!” he called.
“Dean! What-I thought you didn’t get leave until Thanksgiving!”
“We got a weekend pass,” he replied as he got to the doorstep. “Sam’s fine, says hello. And Bobby said to tell you he still owes you for the meatloaf.”
“Oh... that’s... okay.” She had no clue what that was supposed to mean, though it might just have been Bobby’s way of making sure Dean would come see her. But as she looked him over, something felt... off, like he was trying too hard to be cheerful on her behalf. She felt her smile start to fade, and his dimmed slightly as well.
Embarrassed by her scrutiny, he ducked his head and rubbed his neck. “So, um....”
“Dean? What happened?”
He looked at her for a moment, seeming a little lost for words. Then his eyes closed and his head dropped forward briefly, as if he’d fallen asleep for a split second-a gesture she suddenly remembered from the summer before Sam’s return, one she hadn’t seen since-and when he opened his eyes again, something had shifted in them, like the soul looking out wasn’t Dean anymore.
“Hello, Lisa,” said Dean’s voice, which sounded as if he were speaking through one of those voice-distortion toys Ben’s friends used to have.
She couldn’t suppress a startled squeak.
“I regret that we were never formally introduced while I was living with you before,” the weird voice continued, and the expression on Dean’s face matched the sentiment coming from his lips. “But at the time, you lacked the clearance to know of my existence.”
And something clicked. “You’re... the alien?” she hazarded. She probably should feel more shocked, or at least sound more shocked, but knowing what she did now about the previous summer grounded her somehow.
“I am Tok’ra,” he nodded. “This is my true voice. My name is Dishon. And I am very partial to your apple crumb cake,” he added with a grin that was like Dean’s but also different somehow.
Which explained why he was always asking for it before Sam came back but didn’t afterward. Lisa managed a small smile even as her memories of that summer began sorting themselves into That was Dean, That was Dishon, I’m not sure who that was....
Dishon’s smile faded slightly. “Dean wishes you to know that though we both care for you, I have never considered you more than a very good friend.”
“So when we... ah....”
“I was present, but I was never in control. Dean loves you too much for that. In fact, I was usually dormant to give him privacy.” He paused. “My mate was killed several years ago by a Goa’uld spy. I am not yet ready to give my heart again. But I am very glad that you return Dean’s feelings for you.”
She nodded once, then shook her head. “I... I’m sorry, I’m just... seeing Dean possessed again....”
“It’s not possession, Lisa. I am a symbiote, nothing more. We share this body, and I give him no powers other than health, long life, and the ability to use certain technology. If we may come in, I will show you my true face.”
She hesitated, but something told her that if Dishon had meant her harm, he would have had ample opportunity to hurt her when she didn’t even know he was in Dean the first time. So she took a deep breath and stepped aside. He walked into the living room, looking around cautiously, and stopped to face her where his face couldn’t be seen from any of the windows. She closed the door and followed but kept the couch between them.
“You must promise not to scream,” he said.
She swallowed hard and braced herself against the back of the couch. “Okay. I... I promise.”
Now, she had seen demons’ true forms before, when Meg and her minions had tried to attack the Braedens and Bobby and Gabriel and Castiel had shown up to defend them. The angels had killed Meg, but some of the lesser demons had fled their hosts. So Lisa was braced for smoke to come out of Dean’s mouth when it fell open. She wasn’t expecting the grey snaky thing that poked its head out and flared its gill fins. It quickly bobbed up and down and squeaked once as if waving hello, then retreated back into Dean’s mouth, which closed as his eyes flashed with light briefly.
“Dean’s face is much more handsome,” Dishon remarked with a wry smile.
That startled a laugh out of her. “I... I don’t understand. I thought Dean said you’d taken a new host.”
He nodded. “I had. In fact, I had not expected to see Dean or Sam ever again, though we had promised to write. But today demons attacked the planet where my brother and I were stationed. Somehow the angels got word and brought Sam and Dean back from Atlantis to aid us.”
“But... then why....”
“There was a hellhound,” he said quietly, his eyes sad.
She gasped. Dean had told her about the hellhound attack that killed his friend Jo a couple of years ago, so she didn’t need more details than that. “Is Dean okay?”
“No.” Then and only then did Dishon make any move toward her, but his eyes were deeply troubled. “No, he’s not okay at all. That’s why we’re here. He needs you, Lisa.”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Can... can I....”
“I’ll go to sleep and leave you two in peace until time for us to return to Atlantis. You have my word. And you’ll know, believe me. I won’t hide my voice from you again.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dishon.”
“Goodbye, Lisa.” Then Dean’s head dropped forward again, and when it came back up, his stance changed, almost like Dean was trying to fold in on himself as he ran a hand over his nose and mouth. “Dammit, I should have warned you. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll... I’ll go....” He started toward the door, looking absolutely crushed.
And suddenly Lisa didn’t care about Dishon anymore.
“No, Dean, wait.” She ran to cut him off. “Yes, you should have warned me, and yes, it’s gonna take some getting used to, but don’t you dare run off now.”
He looked down at her miserably. “I didn’t want to upset you like this.”
“Apology accepted.”
“I... I just....”
“Needed to see that I was okay?”
He nodded.
She stepped toward him. “Well, Ben’s at a friend’s house this weekend. So why don’t I show you just how okay I am?”
“Lis, you don’t have to do this,” he whispered. “If you’re not okay with Dishon-”
“Shhh.” She pulled his head down and kissed him. “I’ve missed you.”
His answering kiss was all Dean.
Monday morning arrived too soon for everyone. Ben had been overjoyed to come home Sunday night and find Dean there, but his deep disappointment that Dean wasn’t staying longer was mitigated by Lisa’s decision to see Dean and Sam off at the Gate this time. But O’Neill wanted an intergalactic briefing on this new demonic threat as early in the day on Monday as possible, so Dean arranged for Walter to give the Braedens the five-cent tour of Cheyenne Mountain while he, Sam, Bobby, and the angels were in the meeting.
Dean was so glad to have Dishon for backup when they got to the briefing room. Not only were the usual Homeworld Command brass present, including all of SG-1, but so were representatives of the Tok’ra High Council and the Tollan, leaders from half a dozen of the most populated and powerful Milky Way worlds, Master Bra’tac, a couple of Nox, a couple of Unas, and even a very shy Reole who’d been picked up by ship. And those were just the ones he could see. The briefing room in Atlantis was crammed, too. He could make out Elson and Dimas of Riva, representing the Coalition; Keras from M7G-677; Halling from New Athos; Ladon Radim of the Genii; and Larrin of the Travelers-but there were a bunch of other humans there whom Dean didn’t know, plus Todd, who was probably there to advise Woolsey on how to convince the Wraith that this was a problem.
I hate giving presentations, Dean confided to Dishon, feeling rather claustrophobic.
Courage, my friend, Dishon replied, giving him the mental equivalent of a shoulder squeeze. Think of the many lives you will save.
Once O’Neill and Woolsey had made all the necessary introductions, the first hour or so of the meeting was mainly a lecture on what demons are, what they can do, how to fight them, and so on. The three hunters switched off for that part. Then Gabriel and Cas took over to explain what the demons were up to and why it was a threat to everyone, with Salim and Dishon filling in what the Tok’ra knew as needed. The angels left out most of the history of the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t, much to Dean’s relief, and focused instead on the power vacuum because that seemed to be the part that other races would understand. Daniel had to translate quietly for the Unas, but most of the others looked like they were following along fairly well.
“Any questions?” Gabriel finally asked.
“This all sounds very disturbing,” said Ladon. “But we’ve never encountered these kinds of creatures in our galaxy. So how do we know you’re telling the truth?”
And suddenly there were with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host-um. Well, four more angels, anyway, standing behind Gabe and Cas and looking imperious. Quite a few people gasped, including one of the Tollan.
“Ladon Radim,” said one of the newcomers, a blonde. “Perhaps you would be so good as to inform Col. Sheppard which of your officers was behind the selection of Shiana of the Tribes of Santhal to the Coalition tribunal, knowing full well that she held a vendetta against Atlantis and would not be a just judge.”
Ladon’s eyes widened. “That-that wasn’t-”
“No, it was not your doing, but the officer in question did boast of his cleverness and drink to the demise of Atlantis in your presence. You did not join him in that toast, but you have not punished him for attempting to harm an ally.”
Ladon looked ready to fall through the floor.
“Rachel is one of our liaisons with the Pegasus garrison,” Gabriel explained. “Inias and Samandiriel are overseeing intelligence on the search for Purgatory, and Balthazar is working with Azrael and his garrison to monitor the activities of the Lucian Alliance.”
Ronon frowned. “I saw you. Two weeks ago, on Balar.”
Rachel nodded once. “We were investigating whether the Balarans and the Satedan refugees would be targeted for more than their souls. So far, of the Coalition worlds known to Atlantis last year, only that of the Genii appears to be of potential interest to the Lucian Alliance for its technology.”
“That said,” Sheppard noted, “once the demons and the Alliance get to this galaxy, they won’t be limited to what our people know. And if they get ships, they won’t be limited to worlds with a Stargate.”
“The Alliance does have ships,” Balthazar added, “but not the sort capable of crossing the intergalactic void. Most likely, they’ll cross by Stargate and then raid one of your planets. In the meantime, they’ve already begun targeting inhabited worlds in this galaxy, by Gate and by ship. Vihanta was the first, but it will most certainly not be the last.”
Lya, one of the Nox representatives, tilted her head a little. “I am not sure I understand the need for defense. Many of our worlds are at peace since the fall of the Ori and the Goa’uld. The Alliance is troublesome, but is the danger really so great?”
Dishon grumbled something uncomplimentary about pacifists to Dean. Dean privately agreed.
Master Bra’tac sat forward. “I hesitate to suggest this because I can well imagine the cost. But the Tok’ra have technology that allows memories to be projected for others to see.”
“We have been able to link a memory device to a holographic projector,” one of the Tok’ra councilors admitted. “We brought both in case they were needed.”
Bra’tac nodded, then paused before continuing. “Teal’c tells me that these brothers have been to the realm of the demons.”
Dean shook his head. “No, Bra’tac, you do not want to know. You lived through Erebus, and believe me, Hell is a million times worse.”
Bra’tac paled but didn’t back down. “I do not ask for my own sake, Dean Winchester. I am a warrior, of a people trained for war, and I have fought evil for many years. I need no persuasion. But there are those here who do not know such torment.”
“Dean,” Todd said gravely-and about as gently as a Wraith could possibly sound. “Show them your mother.”
Dean shook his head more vigorously, fighting tears. “No, Todd... don’t....”
Sam put a hand on his arm. “I’ll do it, Dean.”
“Sammy-”
“Yellow-Eyes showed me, remember? At Cold Oak?” Sam’s eyes didn’t look any less pained than Dean felt, but they had that determined edge to them... and Dean found himself remembering the way Sam looked right before he went back to shoot Madison. There was no way Sam was going to let Dean talk him out of doing this himself, and they both knew it.
O’Neill cleared his throat. “Winchester, why don’t you go check on your own guests while we go through this part?”
Bobby rubbed Dean’s back briefly, and Cas nodded. So Dean drew a ragged breath, nodded back, and left the room.
Samandiriel popped into the hall just long enough to say, “They’re touring the infirmary.”
Dean nodded his thanks, and Samandiriel went back to the briefing. Then Dean had Dishon take over, and Dishon got them down the hall and into the elevator before the Tok’ra could get the memory projector set up. Once the elevator was on its way up to 21, Dishon gave control back to Dean, who braced himself against the elevator door.
“Why do they ask, buddy?” he whispered brokenly. “Why do they always gotta ask?”
“It’s a very extraordinary scene / To those who don’t understand,” Dishon quoted. Some things simply have to be seen to be believed.
“Nobody should have to.”
I know. If Dishon had been driving, he would have sighed deeply. I know.
Dean had pulled himself together by the time the elevator arrived, and he’d just stepped out of it when Walter, Ben, and Lisa turned the corner to head down to the commissary. So Dean asked Walter to let him know when he was needed back in the briefing room and took Ben and Lisa to the commissary for Jell-O and a breather.
“Havin’ fun?” he asked Ben as they rode the elevator back down.
Ben nodded. “They won’t let us see any of the cool stuff, though.”
“That’s ’cause the cool stuff is classified, dude.”
“It’s not like I’d tell anyone!”
“Right. How many times have you told the story about the Changeling?”
“But that’s different! The guys in Sioux Falls know about zombies.”
“I know. I was there, remember?”
“When they attacked Uncle Bobby’s house?”
Dean blinked. “Uncle Bobby? Since when is he Uncle Bobby?”
“Since the demon attack,” Lisa explained as they got out on 22. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Mind less if you’d come back with us,” Dean muttered, and she shot him a look that was equal parts amused and annoyed, so he didn’t press.
Armed with pie and Jell-O, the family headed back to one of the tables and had just set everything down when Lya and the Tollan woman who’d gasped at the angels’ arrival rushed in-through the wall. Ben and Lisa jumped, but Dean was more worried about the state the Tollan woman was in, sobbing hysterically into Lya’s shoulder as Lya tried to comfort her.
“Hey,” he said, abandoning his pie and jogging toward the aliens. “You guys okay?”
Lya looked up at him, her wild frizzy hair somehow seeming a lot less trippy and a lot more frazzled given the sorrow in her eyes. “You were right, Dean. Sam’s memories were more terrible than words. But I do not wish I had not asked, for I truly could not have understood otherwise. We have lived too long in peace to believe such evil could threaten us.”
Dean swallowed hard. “You know, you can set wards, use exorcisms. Don’t have to kill to defend yourselves.”
Lya nodded. “We are used to those who kill the body. That can be restored.”
“But not if you lose your soul.”
“No.” She turned her attention back to the Tollan woman. “No, let us avoid that.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“You are kind, but no, thank you.”
Feeling awkward, Dean went back to Ben and Lisa.
“Dean?” Lisa asked quietly. “What... how...”
Dean shook his head. “It’s classified.”
Evidently the Tollan woman’s sudden flight broke up the meeting, or at least the part O’Neill needed the hunters and angels for, because Dean had gotten only three bites into his pie before Bobby was sitting down on the other side of Ben. Gabe and Cas sat down on the other side of him, and while Teal’c checked on the other aliens, Sam sat down next to Dean, looking somewhat the worse for wear.
“Hey,” said Sam, glancing over at Lya. “They okay?”
“Hell with them,” Dean replied. “Are you okay?”
Sam nodded a little. “The... device kinda... got away from me.”
“What’d they see?”
“Mom. And... Meg. And Jess. Maybe Carthage, maybe Famine. And... Hell. A little.”
Dean cursed under his breath in Goa’uld.
“Yeah.”
“I shut it down before it became dangerous, Dean,” Cas stated.
“Why’d you let it go that far?” Dean snapped.
Gabriel looked over at Lya as Teal’c came to join the other humans. “Like she said, they couldn’t have gotten the point otherwise. These people aren’t used to thinking in terms of spiritual danger, not when so many ‘gods’ turned out to be just another race of aliens. Wanton physical destruction is one thing. They can get that; they can defend against that, they think. But Hell is orders of magnitude different.”
“Son,” Bobby said before Dean could say anything else. “It’s done. Let it go.”
Dean sighed and gave Sam his Jell-O. Sam bumped his shoulder in thanks and ate.
Just about the time the family finished, Walter returned with the Tok’ra councilors. The one Dishon recognized as Erastus reached the table first. “I need to speak to Dishon and Salim,” he said.
Cursing inwardly, Dean stepped back, and Sam evidently did the same. “At your service, Master Erastus,” Salim said.
Erastus switched to Goa’uld, but Dean understood as if he spoke English. “Is there any information regarding the demon threat that you have not already given to us?”
“No, my lord,” Dishon replied in the same language. “The Tau’ri have given you a full copy of our report from Vihanta, and there is no more to add. You also have the deposition we gave on the Apocalypse upon our return last year, which includes all that the Tau’ri know of fighting demons.”
“Very well. We do not as yet have permanent hosts for you, but both the High Council and the Tau’ri are amenable to your remaining with your current hosts for the time being and returning with them to Atlantis. If there is information in the Atlantis database that may be of use in this fight, or if you intercept information from the Lucian Alliance, the Tau’ri have agreed to let you transmit it to us. Otherwise, you are to aid the Tau’ri in preparing the defense of the Pegasus Galaxy against the Lucian Alliance and the demons. When the current threat is over, we shall discuss the merits of new permanent hosts versus a long-term assignment to Atlantis.”
“Understood,” the brothers chorused, and Dean gave a mental sigh of relief. He really hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to Dishon so soon or to give up his post in Atlantis.
Erastus nodded once and switched back to English. “Gen. O’Neill wishes Mr. Singer to work with Dr. Jackson to prepare an instructional video to be shared with allied worlds. As for the two of you, it will take time to connect the Zero Point Module to the Stargate to allow you to depart, as the remaining delegations must return to their own worlds first. Col. Carter estimates that it will be ready sometime this afternoon.”
“Understood,” Salim replied.
“Understood,” Dishon echoed. “Thank you.”
Erastus nodded again, and the councilors left to follow Walter to the serving line.
“Does... that mean you’ll still be home for Thanksgiving?” Ben asked, having not followed the conversation at all.
Dishon just smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Ben’s hand. “We hope so, Ben. We hope so.”
The angels left after lunch, and with Bobby hard at work with Daniel on the video, Carter drove the Winchesters and Braedens to a nice park in Colorado Springs to hang out until it was time to go. The sunshine and fresh air did them all good, and Lisa made sure the conversation topics stayed light. The time still went too fast, and before Dean knew it, they were standing at the bottom of the Gate ramp, and he was kissing Lisa goodbye again.
It hurt to walk away when the wormhole connected. He really wished Lisa would agree to move to Atlantis with them-Bobby, too, for that matter, but Bobby had other hunters depending on him and couldn’t just leave.
But the pang couldn’t last for long, because Teyla and Torren were in the Gateroom when the Winchesters returned, and Teyla had that smile like she knew they were going to need some Torren hugs. Torren gasped and with a squeal of “DE-EE-EE-EE-EAN!” ran toward the brothers.
Dean dropped his bag and fell to one knee, arms outstretched. “Hey, TJ!”
Torren barreled into his arms for a laughter-filled hug... then pulled back, wrinkling his nose. “You smell funny, Dean.”
“That’s ’cause I brought back an old friend of mine. You wanna meet him?”
Torren nodded warily.
Dean’s head bobbed. “Greetings, Torren Emmagen,” said Dishon.
Torren’s eyes went wide. “How’d you do that?”
Dishon chuckled. “My name is Dishon of the Tok’ra. I am Dean’s symbiote. This is how I sound when I speak.”
“Whoa,” Torren breathed.
“Hey, Torren,” Sam called. “Don’t I get a hug?”
Dishon released the toddler, who hurried over to Sam for a hug. Sam not only hugged him but picked him up.
“You smell funny, too, Sam,” Torren observed. “Have you got a... a... can you do that?”
Sam’s chuckle morphed into Salim’s. “Greetings, Torren. My name is Salim.”
“How do you talk funny? You don’t talk like Todd, but you don’t talk like Sam, neither.”
Salim considered a moment. “I don’t know. My species always sounds like this when we speak through our hosts.”
“Oh, you’re guests?” At Salim’s confused look, he said, “If you’ve got hosts, then you’re guests, right?”
Salim smiled. “Yes, we are guests in a way-but we often live with our hosts for a very long time.”
“You gonna live with Sam a long time?”
“I don’t know yet. I’d like to.”
“So why are you here?”
Salim’s smile turned sad as he weighed his answer. Teyla edged closer to Dishon.
“... Salim?” Torren looked a little worried.
Salim sighed. “We are here to help our friends make sure the galaxy is safe for little boys to ask questions.”
Torren looked at him for a moment, then hugged him. Salim hugged back almost as if Torren were blood kin.
“The city is safe, isn’t it?” Teyla asked Dishon quietly.
Dishon nodded, but it was Dean who answered. “We’ll try to add extra wards to the shield somehow, but yeah, you guys did a good job. TJ’s safe here.”
Teyla hugged him and whispered, “I’m sorry about your mother. Such pain is seldom quick to heal.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you let me serve you tea on the anniversary?”
Dean’s arms seemed to tighten as much as his throat did. “That’d be awesome,” he choked out.
She rubbed his back for a moment, and he drank in the simple comfort of just having a friend who got it. When he finally let go, she tipped her head forward a bit, and he bent his down to touch foreheads.
“Welcome home,” she said.
“Thanks, Teyla,” he replied and meant it with all his heart.
A/N: Many thanks to Enola for helping me out with the “guests” line, which was apparently something one of En’s friends heard from her son while watching SG-1, and for other general brainstorming on this chapter.
For those of you who don’t know SGA well, Teyla’s people have a mourning ritual where friends of the bereaved serve him or her a memorial tea on the anniversary of the death. I suspect that at this stage, Dean would be more likely to accept that offer as a healthier outlet for his grief than the Winchester standard of too much alcohol and no talking.
Next
Chapter 2
Soul Man
“Souls,” said Salim once everyone was in the conference room and the initial sitrep had been delivered. “It is all about the souls.”
“How do you mean?” O’Neill asked.
“As Gabriel told you, Hell is in chaos. Few remaining demons have the inherent power needed to impose their rule on the others; they require the energy of souls to augment their own. But there are not enough non-demonic souls in Hell to support all the claimants or even to break the impasse. Some have begun searching for a route to Purgatory. Others feared that to do so would attract too much attention, especially from us. But the demon who possessed Mr. Coolidge had another idea: collecting souls at their source before they could be claimed by anyone else-Reapers included. And he and his followers are not particular as to what kind of souls they take. No sentient life form is safe-Goa’uld, Tok’ra, Unas, the Pegasus Asgard, Wraith, even the creatures encountered by Destiny.”
“They may even attempt to force ascended beings back to a plane where those souls can be harvested,” Dishon added.
“Is Vihanta secure?” Landry asked.
“For now. But it may not remain so long. There are few Icarus-class planets known to the Alliance that are stable enough even to attempt dialing Destiny without attracting the attention of the Tau’ri. Vihanta is both the most stable and the only inhabited planet, making it ideal for both the Alliance and the demons.”
“Do you have Gate addresses for the others?”
Dishon handed the data crystal to Landry. “That is all the information we had gathered during our time on Vihanta.”
Landry nodded. “Good. We’ll start working on securing these sites.”
“That should halt any attempt to enter the ship through the Stargate,” Salim allowed. “But that is not the only point of entry for Destiny from this galaxy.”
O’Neill frowned. “You think the demons will try to use the communication stones?”
“As a last resort, yes. Of course, neither we nor they have any idea whether demons can ride the host’s consciousness across such a link, but they may well attempt it.”
O’Neill nodded. “All right. We’ll beef up security at Homeworld Command. Now, you mentioned the Pegasus races. Have there been any attempts to dial into Atlantis?”
Sam stepped forward. “No, sir, and we don’t think they’ll try. Odds are they’ll aim to find a ZPM and dial from the far edge of the Milky Way to the near edge of Pegasus. But I couldn’t begin to guess whether they’d try for the planet that was part of the Gate Bridge or some other one.”
“Or which other one,” Dishon agreed. “Yet they must know that the Pegasus Asgard don’t use the Stargates and confine themselves to dead worlds.”
“So they’d be aiming for a planet where they could get ships.”
“Wraith, Genii, or Travelers.”
“Most likely. Unless there’s more of RepliWeir’s information on other cultures in the SGC’s Earthside system than we know. Hell’s limited to what Coolidge would have access to, and the Coalition doesn’t have too many worlds that are that technologically advanced.”
O’Neill blinked. “RepliWeir?”
“Dean’s term,” Sam and Dishon chorused.
“Oh.-Speaking of Dean....”
Dishon sighed. “He is awake and aware, but he is taking Mary’s death quite hard. He lost a dear friend on Earth the same way, not quite two years ago. And he blames himself, though none of us could have known about the hellhound.”
“Dishon is right, Dean,” said Cas. “Azrael had made no mention of hellhounds. I might have come with you if he had.”
Dean finally came forward at that. “C’mon, Cas. You know it wouldn’t have been smart. Gabriel said as much.”
“Do you really think I would have let you face hellhounds alone if I had known, after what happened in Carthage?”
They locked eyes for a long moment. Then the corners of Dean’s mouth twitched upward a little. “Thanks, dude.”
O’Neill cleared his throat. “Look, you two-four-have some leave coming. Why don’t you take the weekend to go to Sioux Falls and get some rest? If Singer’s got any intel, great, but otherwise, let us work out where to go from here.”
“You sure?” Dean began.
But Gabriel cut his voice off before he could object further, though Sam wasn’t sure whether the objection was going to involve ‘being fine’ or having more intel to offer, neither of which would be true. Instead, once Dean turned an annoyed glare to the Trickster archangel, Gabriel said, “He’s sure, and I don’t want to hear it. Just nod your head and say ‘Thank you,’ Dean.”
That provoked a mischievous sparkle in Dean’s eyes as he nodded, and when Gabriel restored his voice, he parroted, “Thank you, Dean.”
Gabriel slapped a hand over his eyes, and Teal’c actually laughed.
“Walked into that one, didn’t I, big guy?” Gabriel groaned.
“Indeed,” Teal’c replied, still chuckling.
O’Neill was trying not to laugh himself and was about to fail. “Get outta here,” he ordered.
The Winchesters saluted, and the meeting broke up. Cas flitted back to Atlantis to get the brothers’ gear before the Gate shut down. He returned just as Sam, Dean, and Gabriel stepped out of the briefing room, at which point Gabriel snapped his fingers. And suddenly brothers and angels were standing outside Bobby’s house.
Sam sighed. “Face the Music, Part One.”
“We’re not s’posed to be home until Thanksgiving,” Dean agreed, sounding a little plaintive. “He’s gonna know something’s wrong.”
“When do you idjits show up when somethin’ ain’t wrong?” Bobby said gruffly from behind them, and Sam found himself being pulled around into a hug. “Hell, boy, makin’ m’hair stand on end,” he added into Sam’s shoulder before releasing him. “And Salim’s back in there, ain’t he?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, and sorry about the EMF.”
“Save it.” Bobby hugged Dean next. “Aw, hell, son, what is wrong?” he asked as he backed away. “And don’t you dare say you’re fine; ain’t felt you shake like that since-”
“Since Carthage?” Dean offered.
Bobby looked around at all of them. “Get in this house. Too damn hot to stand around outside yakkin’.”
The brothers sighed in unison and followed Bobby into the house, trailed by the angels. Then Bobby got out the whiskey, exchanged greetings with the Tok’ra, and made Cas tell the whole story. Gabriel filled in some commentary, as did Sam, but Dean didn’t even bother to drink anything. He was clearly sliding into shock again.
Bobby nodded slowly once the tale was told, then sighed. “Well, I ain’t got much for you. Startin’ to see some crazy monster activity-had three wraith reports last week-but that might have more to do with this bunch that’s goin’ after Purgatory. But I can check with Rufus and a few other friends, see what they know.”
Gabriel nodded. “Yeah, Purgatory could be a problem if they were actually able to break through. There’s stuff stashed in there that even I’ve never heard of. But that’s not a matter for the SGC.”
“Well, we’re here for the weekend,” said Sam. “Anything you need my help with, Bobby? Any research I can do?”
Bobby shrugged. “Sure I can find somethin’. Dean?”
Dean looked kind of lost until Dishon evidently whispered a suggestion that made his eyes light up. “Actually? I think I’m gonna go for a drive. Haven’t seen my car in way too long.”
Sam smiled at that.
“You want to come, Sammy?”
Say no, Salim whispered suddenly. If Lisa still lives here, I think I know what Dishon is up to.
She does, Sam thought back, catching on, and cleared his throat. “Nah. Not right now. I know you three have a lot to catch up on.”
Dean blinked. “Three?”
“You, Dishon, and the car.”
Dean snorted but smiled anyway.
Bobby tossed him the keys. “You see Lisa, tell her I still owe her for the meatloaf.”
Dean looked a little bewildered at that. “O-kay. Later.” And he left.
“Meatloaf?” Sam, Gabriel, and Cas asked at the same time once the door was closed.
Bobby shrugged. “Had to remind him somehow, didn’t I?”
Sam laughed.
Lisa was just walking in her front door when she heard the rumble of the Impala pull up behind her. She paused just inside the door and turned, expecting Bobby, and startled when Dean, still in uniform, got out of the car and jogged up the walk.
“Hey, Lis!” he called.
“Dean! What-I thought you didn’t get leave until Thanksgiving!”
“We got a weekend pass,” he replied as he got to the doorstep. “Sam’s fine, says hello. And Bobby said to tell you he still owes you for the meatloaf.”
“Oh... that’s... okay.” She had no clue what that was supposed to mean, though it might just have been Bobby’s way of making sure Dean would come see her. But as she looked him over, something felt... off, like he was trying too hard to be cheerful on her behalf. She felt her smile start to fade, and his dimmed slightly as well.
Embarrassed by her scrutiny, he ducked his head and rubbed his neck. “So, um....”
“Dean? What happened?”
He looked at her for a moment, seeming a little lost for words. Then his eyes closed and his head dropped forward briefly, as if he’d fallen asleep for a split second-a gesture she suddenly remembered from the summer before Sam’s return, one she hadn’t seen since-and when he opened his eyes again, something had shifted in them, like the soul looking out wasn’t Dean anymore.
“Hello, Lisa,” said Dean’s voice, which sounded as if he were speaking through one of those voice-distortion toys Ben’s friends used to have.
She couldn’t suppress a startled squeak.
“I regret that we were never formally introduced while I was living with you before,” the weird voice continued, and the expression on Dean’s face matched the sentiment coming from his lips. “But at the time, you lacked the clearance to know of my existence.”
And something clicked. “You’re... the alien?” she hazarded. She probably should feel more shocked, or at least sound more shocked, but knowing what she did now about the previous summer grounded her somehow.
“I am Tok’ra,” he nodded. “This is my true voice. My name is Dishon. And I am very partial to your apple crumb cake,” he added with a grin that was like Dean’s but also different somehow.
Which explained why he was always asking for it before Sam came back but didn’t afterward. Lisa managed a small smile even as her memories of that summer began sorting themselves into That was Dean, That was Dishon, I’m not sure who that was....
Dishon’s smile faded slightly. “Dean wishes you to know that though we both care for you, I have never considered you more than a very good friend.”
“So when we... ah....”
“I was present, but I was never in control. Dean loves you too much for that. In fact, I was usually dormant to give him privacy.” He paused. “My mate was killed several years ago by a Goa’uld spy. I am not yet ready to give my heart again. But I am very glad that you return Dean’s feelings for you.”
She nodded once, then shook her head. “I... I’m sorry, I’m just... seeing Dean possessed again....”
“It’s not possession, Lisa. I am a symbiote, nothing more. We share this body, and I give him no powers other than health, long life, and the ability to use certain technology. If we may come in, I will show you my true face.”
She hesitated, but something told her that if Dishon had meant her harm, he would have had ample opportunity to hurt her when she didn’t even know he was in Dean the first time. So she took a deep breath and stepped aside. He walked into the living room, looking around cautiously, and stopped to face her where his face couldn’t be seen from any of the windows. She closed the door and followed but kept the couch between them.
“You must promise not to scream,” he said.
She swallowed hard and braced herself against the back of the couch. “Okay. I... I promise.”
Now, she had seen demons’ true forms before, when Meg and her minions had tried to attack the Braedens and Bobby and Gabriel and Castiel had shown up to defend them. The angels had killed Meg, but some of the lesser demons had fled their hosts. So Lisa was braced for smoke to come out of Dean’s mouth when it fell open. She wasn’t expecting the grey snaky thing that poked its head out and flared its gill fins. It quickly bobbed up and down and squeaked once as if waving hello, then retreated back into Dean’s mouth, which closed as his eyes flashed with light briefly.
“Dean’s face is much more handsome,” Dishon remarked with a wry smile.
That startled a laugh out of her. “I... I don’t understand. I thought Dean said you’d taken a new host.”
He nodded. “I had. In fact, I had not expected to see Dean or Sam ever again, though we had promised to write. But today demons attacked the planet where my brother and I were stationed. Somehow the angels got word and brought Sam and Dean back from Atlantis to aid us.”
“But... then why....”
“There was a hellhound,” he said quietly, his eyes sad.
She gasped. Dean had told her about the hellhound attack that killed his friend Jo a couple of years ago, so she didn’t need more details than that. “Is Dean okay?”
“No.” Then and only then did Dishon make any move toward her, but his eyes were deeply troubled. “No, he’s not okay at all. That’s why we’re here. He needs you, Lisa.”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Can... can I....”
“I’ll go to sleep and leave you two in peace until time for us to return to Atlantis. You have my word. And you’ll know, believe me. I won’t hide my voice from you again.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dishon.”
“Goodbye, Lisa.” Then Dean’s head dropped forward again, and when it came back up, his stance changed, almost like Dean was trying to fold in on himself as he ran a hand over his nose and mouth. “Dammit, I should have warned you. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll... I’ll go....” He started toward the door, looking absolutely crushed.
And suddenly Lisa didn’t care about Dishon anymore.
“No, Dean, wait.” She ran to cut him off. “Yes, you should have warned me, and yes, it’s gonna take some getting used to, but don’t you dare run off now.”
He looked down at her miserably. “I didn’t want to upset you like this.”
“Apology accepted.”
“I... I just....”
“Needed to see that I was okay?”
He nodded.
She stepped toward him. “Well, Ben’s at a friend’s house this weekend. So why don’t I show you just how okay I am?”
“Lis, you don’t have to do this,” he whispered. “If you’re not okay with Dishon-”
“Shhh.” She pulled his head down and kissed him. “I’ve missed you.”
His answering kiss was all Dean.
Monday morning arrived too soon for everyone. Ben had been overjoyed to come home Sunday night and find Dean there, but his deep disappointment that Dean wasn’t staying longer was mitigated by Lisa’s decision to see Dean and Sam off at the Gate this time. But O’Neill wanted an intergalactic briefing on this new demonic threat as early in the day on Monday as possible, so Dean arranged for Walter to give the Braedens the five-cent tour of Cheyenne Mountain while he, Sam, Bobby, and the angels were in the meeting.
Dean was so glad to have Dishon for backup when they got to the briefing room. Not only were the usual Homeworld Command brass present, including all of SG-1, but so were representatives of the Tok’ra High Council and the Tollan, leaders from half a dozen of the most populated and powerful Milky Way worlds, Master Bra’tac, a couple of Nox, a couple of Unas, and even a very shy Reole who’d been picked up by ship. And those were just the ones he could see. The briefing room in Atlantis was crammed, too. He could make out Elson and Dimas of Riva, representing the Coalition; Keras from M7G-677; Halling from New Athos; Ladon Radim of the Genii; and Larrin of the Travelers-but there were a bunch of other humans there whom Dean didn’t know, plus Todd, who was probably there to advise Woolsey on how to convince the Wraith that this was a problem.
I hate giving presentations, Dean confided to Dishon, feeling rather claustrophobic.
Courage, my friend, Dishon replied, giving him the mental equivalent of a shoulder squeeze. Think of the many lives you will save.
Once O’Neill and Woolsey had made all the necessary introductions, the first hour or so of the meeting was mainly a lecture on what demons are, what they can do, how to fight them, and so on. The three hunters switched off for that part. Then Gabriel and Cas took over to explain what the demons were up to and why it was a threat to everyone, with Salim and Dishon filling in what the Tok’ra knew as needed. The angels left out most of the history of the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t, much to Dean’s relief, and focused instead on the power vacuum because that seemed to be the part that other races would understand. Daniel had to translate quietly for the Unas, but most of the others looked like they were following along fairly well.
“Any questions?” Gabriel finally asked.
“This all sounds very disturbing,” said Ladon. “But we’ve never encountered these kinds of creatures in our galaxy. So how do we know you’re telling the truth?”
And suddenly there were with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host-um. Well, four more angels, anyway, standing behind Gabe and Cas and looking imperious. Quite a few people gasped, including one of the Tollan.
“Ladon Radim,” said one of the newcomers, a blonde. “Perhaps you would be so good as to inform Col. Sheppard which of your officers was behind the selection of Shiana of the Tribes of Santhal to the Coalition tribunal, knowing full well that she held a vendetta against Atlantis and would not be a just judge.”
Ladon’s eyes widened. “That-that wasn’t-”
“No, it was not your doing, but the officer in question did boast of his cleverness and drink to the demise of Atlantis in your presence. You did not join him in that toast, but you have not punished him for attempting to harm an ally.”
Ladon looked ready to fall through the floor.
“Rachel is one of our liaisons with the Pegasus garrison,” Gabriel explained. “Inias and Samandiriel are overseeing intelligence on the search for Purgatory, and Balthazar is working with Azrael and his garrison to monitor the activities of the Lucian Alliance.”
Ronon frowned. “I saw you. Two weeks ago, on Balar.”
Rachel nodded once. “We were investigating whether the Balarans and the Satedan refugees would be targeted for more than their souls. So far, of the Coalition worlds known to Atlantis last year, only that of the Genii appears to be of potential interest to the Lucian Alliance for its technology.”
“That said,” Sheppard noted, “once the demons and the Alliance get to this galaxy, they won’t be limited to what our people know. And if they get ships, they won’t be limited to worlds with a Stargate.”
“The Alliance does have ships,” Balthazar added, “but not the sort capable of crossing the intergalactic void. Most likely, they’ll cross by Stargate and then raid one of your planets. In the meantime, they’ve already begun targeting inhabited worlds in this galaxy, by Gate and by ship. Vihanta was the first, but it will most certainly not be the last.”
Lya, one of the Nox representatives, tilted her head a little. “I am not sure I understand the need for defense. Many of our worlds are at peace since the fall of the Ori and the Goa’uld. The Alliance is troublesome, but is the danger really so great?”
Dishon grumbled something uncomplimentary about pacifists to Dean. Dean privately agreed.
Master Bra’tac sat forward. “I hesitate to suggest this because I can well imagine the cost. But the Tok’ra have technology that allows memories to be projected for others to see.”
“We have been able to link a memory device to a holographic projector,” one of the Tok’ra councilors admitted. “We brought both in case they were needed.”
Bra’tac nodded, then paused before continuing. “Teal’c tells me that these brothers have been to the realm of the demons.”
Dean shook his head. “No, Bra’tac, you do not want to know. You lived through Erebus, and believe me, Hell is a million times worse.”
Bra’tac paled but didn’t back down. “I do not ask for my own sake, Dean Winchester. I am a warrior, of a people trained for war, and I have fought evil for many years. I need no persuasion. But there are those here who do not know such torment.”
“Dean,” Todd said gravely-and about as gently as a Wraith could possibly sound. “Show them your mother.”
Dean shook his head more vigorously, fighting tears. “No, Todd... don’t....”
Sam put a hand on his arm. “I’ll do it, Dean.”
“Sammy-”
“Yellow-Eyes showed me, remember? At Cold Oak?” Sam’s eyes didn’t look any less pained than Dean felt, but they had that determined edge to them... and Dean found himself remembering the way Sam looked right before he went back to shoot Madison. There was no way Sam was going to let Dean talk him out of doing this himself, and they both knew it.
O’Neill cleared his throat. “Winchester, why don’t you go check on your own guests while we go through this part?”
Bobby rubbed Dean’s back briefly, and Cas nodded. So Dean drew a ragged breath, nodded back, and left the room.
Samandiriel popped into the hall just long enough to say, “They’re touring the infirmary.”
Dean nodded his thanks, and Samandiriel went back to the briefing. Then Dean had Dishon take over, and Dishon got them down the hall and into the elevator before the Tok’ra could get the memory projector set up. Once the elevator was on its way up to 21, Dishon gave control back to Dean, who braced himself against the elevator door.
“Why do they ask, buddy?” he whispered brokenly. “Why do they always gotta ask?”
“It’s a very extraordinary scene / To those who don’t understand,” Dishon quoted. Some things simply have to be seen to be believed.
“Nobody should have to.”
I know. If Dishon had been driving, he would have sighed deeply. I know.
Dean had pulled himself together by the time the elevator arrived, and he’d just stepped out of it when Walter, Ben, and Lisa turned the corner to head down to the commissary. So Dean asked Walter to let him know when he was needed back in the briefing room and took Ben and Lisa to the commissary for Jell-O and a breather.
“Havin’ fun?” he asked Ben as they rode the elevator back down.
Ben nodded. “They won’t let us see any of the cool stuff, though.”
“That’s ’cause the cool stuff is classified, dude.”
“It’s not like I’d tell anyone!”
“Right. How many times have you told the story about the Changeling?”
“But that’s different! The guys in Sioux Falls know about zombies.”
“I know. I was there, remember?”
“When they attacked Uncle Bobby’s house?”
Dean blinked. “Uncle Bobby? Since when is he Uncle Bobby?”
“Since the demon attack,” Lisa explained as they got out on 22. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Mind less if you’d come back with us,” Dean muttered, and she shot him a look that was equal parts amused and annoyed, so he didn’t press.
Armed with pie and Jell-O, the family headed back to one of the tables and had just set everything down when Lya and the Tollan woman who’d gasped at the angels’ arrival rushed in-through the wall. Ben and Lisa jumped, but Dean was more worried about the state the Tollan woman was in, sobbing hysterically into Lya’s shoulder as Lya tried to comfort her.
“Hey,” he said, abandoning his pie and jogging toward the aliens. “You guys okay?”
Lya looked up at him, her wild frizzy hair somehow seeming a lot less trippy and a lot more frazzled given the sorrow in her eyes. “You were right, Dean. Sam’s memories were more terrible than words. But I do not wish I had not asked, for I truly could not have understood otherwise. We have lived too long in peace to believe such evil could threaten us.”
Dean swallowed hard. “You know, you can set wards, use exorcisms. Don’t have to kill to defend yourselves.”
Lya nodded. “We are used to those who kill the body. That can be restored.”
“But not if you lose your soul.”
“No.” She turned her attention back to the Tollan woman. “No, let us avoid that.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“You are kind, but no, thank you.”
Feeling awkward, Dean went back to Ben and Lisa.
“Dean?” Lisa asked quietly. “What... how...”
Dean shook his head. “It’s classified.”
Evidently the Tollan woman’s sudden flight broke up the meeting, or at least the part O’Neill needed the hunters and angels for, because Dean had gotten only three bites into his pie before Bobby was sitting down on the other side of Ben. Gabe and Cas sat down on the other side of him, and while Teal’c checked on the other aliens, Sam sat down next to Dean, looking somewhat the worse for wear.
“Hey,” said Sam, glancing over at Lya. “They okay?”
“Hell with them,” Dean replied. “Are you okay?”
Sam nodded a little. “The... device kinda... got away from me.”
“What’d they see?”
“Mom. And... Meg. And Jess. Maybe Carthage, maybe Famine. And... Hell. A little.”
Dean cursed under his breath in Goa’uld.
“Yeah.”
“I shut it down before it became dangerous, Dean,” Cas stated.
“Why’d you let it go that far?” Dean snapped.
Gabriel looked over at Lya as Teal’c came to join the other humans. “Like she said, they couldn’t have gotten the point otherwise. These people aren’t used to thinking in terms of spiritual danger, not when so many ‘gods’ turned out to be just another race of aliens. Wanton physical destruction is one thing. They can get that; they can defend against that, they think. But Hell is orders of magnitude different.”
“Son,” Bobby said before Dean could say anything else. “It’s done. Let it go.”
Dean sighed and gave Sam his Jell-O. Sam bumped his shoulder in thanks and ate.
Just about the time the family finished, Walter returned with the Tok’ra councilors. The one Dishon recognized as Erastus reached the table first. “I need to speak to Dishon and Salim,” he said.
Cursing inwardly, Dean stepped back, and Sam evidently did the same. “At your service, Master Erastus,” Salim said.
Erastus switched to Goa’uld, but Dean understood as if he spoke English. “Is there any information regarding the demon threat that you have not already given to us?”
“No, my lord,” Dishon replied in the same language. “The Tau’ri have given you a full copy of our report from Vihanta, and there is no more to add. You also have the deposition we gave on the Apocalypse upon our return last year, which includes all that the Tau’ri know of fighting demons.”
“Very well. We do not as yet have permanent hosts for you, but both the High Council and the Tau’ri are amenable to your remaining with your current hosts for the time being and returning with them to Atlantis. If there is information in the Atlantis database that may be of use in this fight, or if you intercept information from the Lucian Alliance, the Tau’ri have agreed to let you transmit it to us. Otherwise, you are to aid the Tau’ri in preparing the defense of the Pegasus Galaxy against the Lucian Alliance and the demons. When the current threat is over, we shall discuss the merits of new permanent hosts versus a long-term assignment to Atlantis.”
“Understood,” the brothers chorused, and Dean gave a mental sigh of relief. He really hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to Dishon so soon or to give up his post in Atlantis.
Erastus nodded once and switched back to English. “Gen. O’Neill wishes Mr. Singer to work with Dr. Jackson to prepare an instructional video to be shared with allied worlds. As for the two of you, it will take time to connect the Zero Point Module to the Stargate to allow you to depart, as the remaining delegations must return to their own worlds first. Col. Carter estimates that it will be ready sometime this afternoon.”
“Understood,” Salim replied.
“Understood,” Dishon echoed. “Thank you.”
Erastus nodded again, and the councilors left to follow Walter to the serving line.
“Does... that mean you’ll still be home for Thanksgiving?” Ben asked, having not followed the conversation at all.
Dishon just smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Ben’s hand. “We hope so, Ben. We hope so.”
The angels left after lunch, and with Bobby hard at work with Daniel on the video, Carter drove the Winchesters and Braedens to a nice park in Colorado Springs to hang out until it was time to go. The sunshine and fresh air did them all good, and Lisa made sure the conversation topics stayed light. The time still went too fast, and before Dean knew it, they were standing at the bottom of the Gate ramp, and he was kissing Lisa goodbye again.
It hurt to walk away when the wormhole connected. He really wished Lisa would agree to move to Atlantis with them-Bobby, too, for that matter, but Bobby had other hunters depending on him and couldn’t just leave.
But the pang couldn’t last for long, because Teyla and Torren were in the Gateroom when the Winchesters returned, and Teyla had that smile like she knew they were going to need some Torren hugs. Torren gasped and with a squeal of “DE-EE-EE-EE-EAN!” ran toward the brothers.
Dean dropped his bag and fell to one knee, arms outstretched. “Hey, TJ!”
Torren barreled into his arms for a laughter-filled hug... then pulled back, wrinkling his nose. “You smell funny, Dean.”
“That’s ’cause I brought back an old friend of mine. You wanna meet him?”
Torren nodded warily.
Dean’s head bobbed. “Greetings, Torren Emmagen,” said Dishon.
Torren’s eyes went wide. “How’d you do that?”
Dishon chuckled. “My name is Dishon of the Tok’ra. I am Dean’s symbiote. This is how I sound when I speak.”
“Whoa,” Torren breathed.
“Hey, Torren,” Sam called. “Don’t I get a hug?”
Dishon released the toddler, who hurried over to Sam for a hug. Sam not only hugged him but picked him up.
“You smell funny, too, Sam,” Torren observed. “Have you got a... a... can you do that?”
Sam’s chuckle morphed into Salim’s. “Greetings, Torren. My name is Salim.”
“How do you talk funny? You don’t talk like Todd, but you don’t talk like Sam, neither.”
Salim considered a moment. “I don’t know. My species always sounds like this when we speak through our hosts.”
“Oh, you’re guests?” At Salim’s confused look, he said, “If you’ve got hosts, then you’re guests, right?”
Salim smiled. “Yes, we are guests in a way-but we often live with our hosts for a very long time.”
“You gonna live with Sam a long time?”
“I don’t know yet. I’d like to.”
“So why are you here?”
Salim’s smile turned sad as he weighed his answer. Teyla edged closer to Dishon.
“... Salim?” Torren looked a little worried.
Salim sighed. “We are here to help our friends make sure the galaxy is safe for little boys to ask questions.”
Torren looked at him for a moment, then hugged him. Salim hugged back almost as if Torren were blood kin.
“The city is safe, isn’t it?” Teyla asked Dishon quietly.
Dishon nodded, but it was Dean who answered. “We’ll try to add extra wards to the shield somehow, but yeah, you guys did a good job. TJ’s safe here.”
Teyla hugged him and whispered, “I’m sorry about your mother. Such pain is seldom quick to heal.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you let me serve you tea on the anniversary?”
Dean’s arms seemed to tighten as much as his throat did. “That’d be awesome,” he choked out.
She rubbed his back for a moment, and he drank in the simple comfort of just having a friend who got it. When he finally let go, she tipped her head forward a bit, and he bent his down to touch foreheads.
“Welcome home,” she said.
“Thanks, Teyla,” he replied and meant it with all his heart.
A/N: Many thanks to Enola for helping me out with the “guests” line, which was apparently something one of En’s friends heard from her son while watching SG-1, and for other general brainstorming on this chapter.
For those of you who don’t know SGA well, Teyla’s people have a mourning ritual where friends of the bereaved serve him or her a memorial tea on the anniversary of the death. I suspect that at this stage, Dean would be more likely to accept that offer as a healthier outlet for his grief than the Winchester standard of too much alcohol and no talking.
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