Five Times Azazel's Plan Couldn't Work 3/5
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3. Guardian and Defender
Uriel thought his departure from Heaven went unmarked. But Michael knew of it. Anna’s summons had not been as discreet as she thought, and Michael had overheard the entire exchange. Puzzled by the insubordination, he followed Uriel at a safe distance.
Unfortunately, his own desire to escape detection meant that he arrived at the Campbell safe-house just in time to witness Anna being killed by... his future self, occupying his present-day vessel in order to have a very strange conversation with his future vessel about the Apocalypse, which seemed to be already in motion by then.
Michael hid himself carefully and watched the entire scene unfold, stunned by the change in his own demeanor. Thirty-two years were the blink of an eye from the standpoint of eternity. How could he have become so arrogant and manipulative in such a short span of time? What was about to happen to the Winchester family to bring things to such a pass?!
Once everyone involved had returned to his or her right time or place, Michael flew to Lawrence and studied John and Mary, as well as the tiny life Mary bore in her womb. Dean would have no way of remembering this night even by his first birthday, but even though his body was far from fully formed, his spirit was aware enough to startle back from Michael’s presence.
No no please help no bad get back help help... Michael heard.
Fear not, child, he replied gently, and the panicked litany paused. I’m not here to hurt you or your parents. I only want to find out what’s happening.
Not trust, Dean returned. Too bright. Bright hurt.
Michael veiled his power. Better?
Dean clearly didn’t know how to respond, but his silence was skeptical.
Will you show me what happened?
Dean didn’t let down his guard much, but his recall of the evening’s earlier events was almost reflexive. He hadn’t been aware of much other than Mary moving around a lot, but he had sensed Anna and she him. It’s better this way, she had thought to him in passing. Your brother’s too much of a danger-I’m sorry, but it’s better for you to die now, an only child.
Michael was horrified. How could any angel think such a thing, let alone Anna, whose love for humans knew almost no bounds? And what could possibly warrant such action to prevent a crime that had yet to occur?
Dean seemed to sense Michael’s reaction. Not hurt?
No. I won’t hurt you, little one. I won’t hurt your parents, either.
Too bright hurt.
It took a moment to untangle that one, but Michael soon realized that the only category Dean had for Mary’s being knocked out and having her memory of the evening erased was “hurt”-which, by some standards, was actually correct. I will heal what I can, he promised.
Dean didn’t quite understand that one. Good?
Yes, child.
Despite his inability to prevent Michael from doing anything he wished, Dean already had a protective streak that flared to life now, and the tiny fragile body stirred as best it could to match the motion of the soul. Not hurt. NOT.
I promise, Michael replied solemnly. I will not hurt you or your parents.
Dean relaxed somewhat, but Michael got the sense that the child was watching him warily as best he could.
Turning away from Dean for the moment, Michael brushed John’s mind gently and found the memory of the evening’s events already gone. He did the same to Mary and likewise found the memory missing-but there were earlier memories his future self had also tampered with, though they were not wholly erased. Puzzled, he looked closer... and uncovered the nightmarish events of May 2, 1973, when Mary made a deal to trade she knew not what to Azazel in exchange for John’s life.
Michael was furious. The clues were beginning to form a distinct picture that he did not like: a deal involving the second son of his vessel, a deal that would almost certainly involve corrupting the boy to make him a fit vessel for Lucifer. A plot to manipulate both vessels by sending them on a wild goose chase after Anna. Such a plan stank of Zachariah’s manipulation, possibly still higher in the ranks than that-Naomi, even, he could imagine. But again, why would he himself go along with such a monstrous idea?
Not hurt! Dean cried again. Not not NOT!
No, child, Michael returned, turning back to John. Not hurt. I’m not angry with your family, only with mine.
Technically, since John had already consented to possession, Michael could have entered him without difficulty. He chose not to do so because the memory of that consent was gone and he would not take advantage of his vessel’s ignorance. Yet he didn’t need to go all the way in to find the latent traces of his future self’s presence, which were enough to give him insight into what was to come.
And he liked that picture even less. Somehow, between now and then, he would grow weary of man’s inhumanity to man and disillusioned by Father’s obstinate refusal to return. Once Lucifer’s vessel released him, Zachariah would present the situation to Michael as a fait accompli, and Michael would see no alternative but to persuade Dean to consent and allow him to kill Lucifer.
The understanding made Michael heartsick. Yes, however much he hated the idea, he would kill Lucifer when the time came. That was what Father wanted, at least as he understood it, and he would not disobey. But did it have to happen like that?
Yet suddenly, he realized that he had already made that future unlikely. He had promised Dean that he wouldn’t hurt the Winchesters, and he refused to lie to his vessels. And this course of events would unquestionably hurt them. Michael had only to decide whether to abide by the letter of his promise and allow others to do the damage or to abide by the spirit of the promise and prevent the damage altogether.
Upon reflection, that wasn’t much of a choice at all. He knew which way Lucifer would go, which meant the other had to be the right choice. All that remained was to receive John’s renewed consent.
John was deeply asleep, and his dream was far from the surface of consciousness. Yet Michael was able to reach it and appear in it easily enough. John was locked in a nightmare about the fighting around Quang Nam and was startled when Michael dispatched the bulk of his now-imagined enemies.
“Uh, thanks?” John ventured.
Michael smiled. “You’re welcome, John. My name is Michael. I need to talk to you.”
John blinked. “About?”
“You don’t remember this, but I asked you for a favor earlier tonight. I need to ask it of you again.”
“You’re right, I don’t remember. What favor?”
“I need your permission to come in and live in you for a time. For the most part, you won’t even know I’m here. You’ll be in full control of your own body unless and until I am needed. But I believe you will need me soon.”
“I will, huh? Why?”
“To save your family from a threat you can’t fight on your own. A demon.”
John frowned. “Wait, this-this is a dream. You’re not real.”
“This is indeed a dream, but I am most assuredly real. I am an archangel, John, but I cannot hide myself effectively from your enemy unless I hide in you. Will you let me?”
“What about....”
“I will give you privacy when you wish to lie with your wife.” Michael was hardly embarrassed by sex between a husband and wife, but he had no desire to engage in it himself, never mind sire a child.
John looked at him oddly. “Lie with? What are you, some kind of Victorian?”
“No. As I told you, I’m an angel of the Lord.”
“What-I don’t believe in angels. Why the hell am I dreaming that I’m talking to one?”
“Because I’m real. John, there isn’t much time. Will you let me in?”
John ran a hand over his mucky, sweaty dream-face. “You’re an angel.”
“Yes.”
“And there’s some demon coming after my family.”
“Yes.”
“And you want to help.”
“Yes.”
John huffed, looked away, and shook his head. “I still can’t believe it’s real. But what the hell. If it’s not real, I got nothin’ to lose by sayin’ yes. If it is real and you’re telling me the truth, then I need to say yes. But if it’s real and you’re lying....”
“I am the Prince of Angels. I don’t lie. But I can give you no guarantee stronger than my word, in my Father’s name, that I am telling you the truth. You must accept that for what it is-or not.”
John looked at Michael steadily for a long moment. Then he sighed. “What the hell. Yes.”
“Thank you, John.” Michael smiled and withdrew from the dream. All will be well, he thought toward Dean. This will not hurt your father.
Not hurt, Dean repeated, as if holding Michael to his promise.
Michael nodded once and entered John, gaining control of the vessel and relinquishing it at once as he pushed back to the very back of John’s mind. John woke with a start, breathing hard, but Michael didn’t speak to him, only drew in on himself as far as he possibly could to minimize John’s awareness of him.
Damn, John thought as he caught his breath. What a freaky dream. He looked over at Mary and saw that she was sleeping peacefully, then looked around the room and (naturally) saw no sign of Michael. I don’t even remember falling asleep-what the hell happened?
Michael held his peace, and soon John went back to sleep.
Good? Dean thought, sounding worried. Not hurt?
Michael assumed control just enough to use John’s hand to rub Mary’s belly, lightly but enough that Dean could physically sense the touch. Not hurt, he thought back with a gentle smile. Good.
Finally, finally, Dean relaxed. Good yes. And he fell asleep.
The next five years flew past, even from a human perspective. Michael kept his promise to John, leaving his body and standing guard over Dean during times when John and Mary had sex but otherwise remaining in that tiny corner of the back of John’s mind as a silent observer. Rarely did he give in to the urge to try to influence John’s behavior, usually only when John was being unusually pigheaded and hurtful toward Mary and ignoring the way it affected Dean. Yet even then, Michael did no more than whisper a suggestion or two-almost never as strong as a rebuke.
When Mary went into labor on May 2, 1983, however, Michael knew that the time for him to act was drawing near. Sam was a beautiful child, especially seen through John’s eyes, and Michael found it hard to believe that his brothers and sisters could see no more potential in Sam than his supposed role as Lucifer’s vessel. There was so much else for him to do, to be! Michael simply couldn’t let the plan proceed-nor could he sit idly by while John’s relationship with Mary became strained. The more determined John became to leave, even for a short time, the more vocal Michael became in convincing him to stay for the sake of the boys. Persuasion still worked, but Michael knew it was probably best for all of them that his presence would be required only a few more months.
The night of November 2 finally arrived, and Michael bided his time as John and Mary put their sons to bed. Mary chose to go on to bed herself, while John chose to go downstairs to watch one of his favorite movies on television. But as John began to nod off, Michael sensed Azazel’s approach, and he unfolded himself from his hiding place at long last, though he kept his power closely veiled. Once he had control of the vessel, he rose from the couch quietly and switched off the television, then walked up the stairs with John’s usual tread so as not to alarm Mary or Dean.
Azazel appeared just as Michael walked into Sam’s nursery. The demon smirked, supposing him to be John, and tried to throw him against the wall. When that didn’t work, Azazel scowled. “What the hell?”
“Not at all,” Michael returned and snapped his fingers, moving the crib instantly into the master bedroom. Then he unfurled his wings and manifested his sword.
“Michael,” Azazel breathed, wide-eyed. “What-how-y-y-you don’t understand-”
“Oh, I understand my brother’s plan. I disapprove. This ends now.” And before the discussion could continue, Michael rammed his sword through Azazel’s borrowed heart and watched dispassionately as the demon fell and died.
John was, at this point, wide awake and terrified. So were Mary and Dean, who’d been awakened by Azazel’s death cry and came running. “John!” Mary gasped. “What on earth-”
Michael turned to face her. “I’m not John-not at the moment, anyway. He is here and unharmed. But you’d better call the police to come deal with this,” he added, gesturing down at the body.
“What-who is that?”
“The man he was did not deserve this fate, and I regret I could not spare him. But he was possessed... by the yellow-eyed demon, Azazel.”
Mary gasped loudly. “H-he c-c-came-but th-the deal was....”
“The deal was for entrance into your house on the night it was due, and should there be an infant newborn or under the age of six months, he could return on the night the child turned six months old.”
“To-to steal? He said-”
“No, not to steal the boy, though that is what you should tell the police.” Michael glanced down at Dean briefly. “His true purpose is not for a child’s ears. But it involved blood-and had you interrupted, you would have died.”
Dean cried out in distress and hugged Mary with all his might.
Mary struggled for composure for a moment as she hugged Dean as best she could without letting down her guard. When she could, however, she asked, “Who are you? What are you?”
“I am Michael.”
“The archangel?!” both mother and son yelped, and Dean turned his head to look wide-eyed at Michael without letting go of Mary.
“Indeed so.” And Michael showed them the shadows of his wings. “Don’t be afraid,” he added as he veiled his wings again. “My only purpose here was to stop Azazel. John is my vessel, but I will return him to you whole and well once this night is past. Sam will be out of danger then.”
He damn well better be! John exploded. And you’d damn well better tell us how to keep those things out of our house!
“I will set wards,” Michael promised, unable to keep from chuckling. “They need not be visible to be effective.”
Mary sighed. “I should have known it was too good to be true. You can leave the life, but the life never leaves you.”
That startled John. What the hell is she talking about?
Michael ignored him. “Mary, this isn’t simply about hunting. Your family is a unique case-Winchester as well as Campbell. You don’t have to raise your children as hunters; you do have a choice. But that said, teaching them and John some basic means of defense against the supernatural would be wise. You should not leave them unprotected.”
She nodded slowly.
“We can speak more of this later. First, we must deal with the police.” Michael snapped his fingers again, raising wards at the same time he returned the crib and a very distraught Sam to the nursery and caused the window to look like it had been forced open.
Mary nodded more decisively this time. “Can you take them downstairs?” she asked, meaning Dean and Sam. “I can call from the bedroom phone.”
“Sure.” Michael turned and gently retrieved Sam from the crib, then took Dean’s hand and took both children down to the living room while Mary went to call the police.
Sam’s cries quieted somewhat as he rested against Michael’s shoulder, but his mind did not. Michael could hear him trying to make sense of things: Daddy-not Daddy-bright bright, smell wrong, move fast, Daddy hands, Daddy hug-not Daddy-good? Bad feel, bad man... bad man go. Daddy here, Daddy good. Not Daddy. Scared. Want Daddy.
Aw, Sammy, I’m right here, buddy, John thought back, though of course Sam couldn’t hear him. Dammit, Michael, can’t you see he needs me?
Let us get settled, Michael replied. Then you may have control until the police come.
But once they were down in the living room, Dean hesitated to sit down on the couch beside Michael. Instead he stood staring up into Michael’s face, wide-eyed and silent.
Michael smiled gently at him. “Don’t be afraid, Dean.”
“Are you really a angel?” Dean asked so quietly a mortal would barely have heard him.
Michael nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Why are you wearing my daddy?”
“I could not have appeared here in my true form without hurting anyone. My voice would leave you deaf. My face would burn your eyes. And while you don’t remember it now, I promised you a long time ago that I wouldn’t hurt your family.”
“When?”
“Before you were born.”
Dean inched closer. “Is my daddy in Heaven?”
Michael put his free hand on Dean’s head. “No. He’s right here. I need to be the one to talk to the police, but I’ll let him speak to you until then.”
“An’... after that... are you gonna stay?” Michael wasn’t sure whether that question was asked in hope or fear, and he didn’t think Dean was sure, either.
The answer was the same either way, however. “No. I need to go back to Heaven.”
“Oh.” There was definite disappointment then, as well as relief that John would be himself again.
Michael ran his hand down to rest on Dean’s cheek. “But I can send another angel to be your guardian, if you like. You wouldn’t be able to see him, but he would be here. Would you like that?”
Dean’s eyes lit up a little. “I think so. What’s his name?”
“Castiel. He’s been curious about humans for a long time. I think he’d like you.”
“Castyul. Could I call him Cas?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Dean began to smile. “’Kay. That sounds awesome.”
Michael smiled back. “It’s a deal, then. And your father and I are connected now. If ever you need me again, he can call for me, and I’ll come.”
“’Kay. Can I talk to Daddy now?”
“All right.” And Michael withdrew his control.
John gasped as he felt the shift, looking at Dean with eyes as wide as his son’s. Then he looked around wildly, gulping down deep breath after deep breath.
“Daddy?” Dean asked.
John looked back down at him again. “Yeah. Yeah, buddy, it’s me.”
“AAAAH!” cried Sam as Dean yelped “DADDY!” and scrambled into John’s lap.
John crushed both boys against his broad chest, unable to hold back tears. “Oh, Sammy, Deano....”
And Dean hugged back just as fiercely. “Daddy, Daddy, you’re okay, you’re okay!”
“Oh, baby boys... we’re safe, thank God, thank God....”
Mary came in at that point and gasped. “John?!”
John turned to her and sobbed, “Mary....”
“John!” She rushed to the couch and hugged John and both boys at once, and both adults wept together for a moment.
“Are you okay, Daddy?” Dean finally asked.
John swiped at his face to rub away the tears and nodded. “Yeah. Pretty freaked out, but I’m okay.”
“And Michael?” Mary wondered.
“He’s still here. He’ll be back when the cops get here. Mary, this power... I don’t... I can’t get my head around it. I can feel his wings.”
And though Michael wasn’t sure at that moment whether it was by his will or John’s, said wings wrapped protectively about the huddled family.
“John, how... how did he....”
John shook his head. “There was some dream I had a few years back, before Dean was born, where he asked me. I think I said yes-but I d-... I didn’t think it was real.” His eyes widened. “What else is real?”
Now it was Mary’s turn to shake her head as she ran a comforting hand over Dean’s head. “More than you know. So many things I didn’t want you and the boys to have to know about. Oh, John, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault....”
“Shh. Hey.” He pulled her closer and kissed her. “Michael saved us. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
And thus they sat, holding one another and crying quietly, until the police arrived. Then, as Mary went to answer the door, Michael took over again and answered all of the officers’ questions with believable answers. Mary backed his story with a hunter’s practiced ease, and even Dean, when asked why John had killed the intruder, said only, “He was gonna hurt Sammy.”
When the forensics team arrived, however, one member stopped short of coming into the house and volunteered to examine the evidence on the front lawn. Then, once everyone else was out of earshot, she tried to convince Michael to bring Sam outside.
“I think not,” Michael replied. “And don’t think I need my sword to deal with you, Megara.”
The possessed technician hissed, her eyes going black. “Michael!”
“The plan has failed. You will not touch this child.”
“He’s ours! He’s OURS!”
“GO TO HELL!” he commanded, and the demon shrieked and came out, at which point the technician fainted dead away.
John was stunned. Is it always that easy?
Michael chuckled inwardly and moved back toward the living room while one of the coroner’s aides checked on the technician. Only for me. Mortals would need to use an exorcism. And there are few weapons that a mortal can wield that would kill any demon, let alone one as strong as Azazel or Megara. I advise you not to try.
What about... the other things? The things Mary won’t talk about in front of Dean?
Michael paused. John, what is it you truly want? For me to hand you all the answers, or for Mary to work with you and help you learn them on your own?
John pondered that question as the coroner’s team finally removed the body of Azazel’s host from the house. Then, instead of answering it, he asked, It was you, wasn’t it, keeping me here? Making me work things out with Mary?
I didn’t force you. I could have-if necessary, I would have. But you do love her, as you love your sons. You simply needed a different perspective.
I almost lost her tonight. I... I could have... h-how could I have made it without her?
You’d have managed, Michael answered honestly. Not well, perhaps. You would have become a hunter, driven by fear for your children and vengeance over Mary’s death. You would not, of your own accord, have been able to prevent Azazel’s plan for Sam from coming perilously close to fruition. But however much the life would have hurt them, you would have succeeded in raising strong, honorable sons who would, in the end, have done the right thing.
John sighed mentally. I don’t want that. I... I know I’m... not the easiest person to like. Sometimes I... hell, I don’t know how to be a dad and not a DI. I want the boys raised right.
Michael just managed not to tilt his head physically. For that, they need both you and Mary. Neither of you can do as well alone as you both can together.
But I want them safe, too, Michael. So how do I do both? How do I... I mean, you said we don’t have to do this hunting thing, but....
Talk with Mary. Really talk, and listen to what she tells you. Be open and honest with one another. And decide together what to do with what she knows. So long as you both determine to work together come what may, you will do well.
John would have taken a deep breath and let it out again had he been able. So the other stuff-I should learn it from Mary?
And from others. The Campbells are not the only hunters in this country. I believe the owner of Singer Salvage Yard in Sioux Falls would be a good friend to have, professionally as well as for hunting. And John, don’t shield your sons from this knowledge forever. Give them the freedom to choose what to do with what they know, as I am giving you, and don’t burden them too soon. But ignorance will not save them.
John took the mental equivalent of another deep breath. Okay. I’ll do my best.
Michael smiled. Then you’ll do well.
At long last, well after midnight, the police finished their work, returned Michael’s sword to him, and left. Michael helped Mary put the children to bed once more, renewing his promises to Dean to send Castiel and to come to their aid if there was again great need. And finally, he walked with Mary back to the master bedroom.
“I’ll take my leave now,” he told her. “Even should any demon be able to breach these wards, it’s too late for Sam’s blood to be corrupted. You should be safe.”
Mary sighed deeply. “Michael, how can I thank you?”
“Be honest with John. Hold nothing back from him. And choose with him how to live hereafter.”
She nodded. “I just wanted a normal life.”
He smiled. “Normal, to quote one of your comediennes, is only a setting on the dryer.”
That got a smile out of her.
“As I told Dean, there is an open line between John and me now. I will know and come if I am needed. But I doubt the need will be that great. So long as you work together, being honest with one another and serving each other and your children as best you can, you will not need to fear the future.”
After a brief hesitation, she hugged him. “Thank you. Thank you.”
He rubbed her back. “Fare you well, Mary Winchester.” And he departed, leaving his vessel in the arms of his beloved.
Next
3. Guardian and Defender
Uriel thought his departure from Heaven went unmarked. But Michael knew of it. Anna’s summons had not been as discreet as she thought, and Michael had overheard the entire exchange. Puzzled by the insubordination, he followed Uriel at a safe distance.
Unfortunately, his own desire to escape detection meant that he arrived at the Campbell safe-house just in time to witness Anna being killed by... his future self, occupying his present-day vessel in order to have a very strange conversation with his future vessel about the Apocalypse, which seemed to be already in motion by then.
Michael hid himself carefully and watched the entire scene unfold, stunned by the change in his own demeanor. Thirty-two years were the blink of an eye from the standpoint of eternity. How could he have become so arrogant and manipulative in such a short span of time? What was about to happen to the Winchester family to bring things to such a pass?!
Once everyone involved had returned to his or her right time or place, Michael flew to Lawrence and studied John and Mary, as well as the tiny life Mary bore in her womb. Dean would have no way of remembering this night even by his first birthday, but even though his body was far from fully formed, his spirit was aware enough to startle back from Michael’s presence.
No no please help no bad get back help help... Michael heard.
Fear not, child, he replied gently, and the panicked litany paused. I’m not here to hurt you or your parents. I only want to find out what’s happening.
Not trust, Dean returned. Too bright. Bright hurt.
Michael veiled his power. Better?
Dean clearly didn’t know how to respond, but his silence was skeptical.
Will you show me what happened?
Dean didn’t let down his guard much, but his recall of the evening’s earlier events was almost reflexive. He hadn’t been aware of much other than Mary moving around a lot, but he had sensed Anna and she him. It’s better this way, she had thought to him in passing. Your brother’s too much of a danger-I’m sorry, but it’s better for you to die now, an only child.
Michael was horrified. How could any angel think such a thing, let alone Anna, whose love for humans knew almost no bounds? And what could possibly warrant such action to prevent a crime that had yet to occur?
Dean seemed to sense Michael’s reaction. Not hurt?
No. I won’t hurt you, little one. I won’t hurt your parents, either.
Too bright hurt.
It took a moment to untangle that one, but Michael soon realized that the only category Dean had for Mary’s being knocked out and having her memory of the evening erased was “hurt”-which, by some standards, was actually correct. I will heal what I can, he promised.
Dean didn’t quite understand that one. Good?
Yes, child.
Despite his inability to prevent Michael from doing anything he wished, Dean already had a protective streak that flared to life now, and the tiny fragile body stirred as best it could to match the motion of the soul. Not hurt. NOT.
I promise, Michael replied solemnly. I will not hurt you or your parents.
Dean relaxed somewhat, but Michael got the sense that the child was watching him warily as best he could.
Turning away from Dean for the moment, Michael brushed John’s mind gently and found the memory of the evening’s events already gone. He did the same to Mary and likewise found the memory missing-but there were earlier memories his future self had also tampered with, though they were not wholly erased. Puzzled, he looked closer... and uncovered the nightmarish events of May 2, 1973, when Mary made a deal to trade she knew not what to Azazel in exchange for John’s life.
Michael was furious. The clues were beginning to form a distinct picture that he did not like: a deal involving the second son of his vessel, a deal that would almost certainly involve corrupting the boy to make him a fit vessel for Lucifer. A plot to manipulate both vessels by sending them on a wild goose chase after Anna. Such a plan stank of Zachariah’s manipulation, possibly still higher in the ranks than that-Naomi, even, he could imagine. But again, why would he himself go along with such a monstrous idea?
Not hurt! Dean cried again. Not not NOT!
No, child, Michael returned, turning back to John. Not hurt. I’m not angry with your family, only with mine.
Technically, since John had already consented to possession, Michael could have entered him without difficulty. He chose not to do so because the memory of that consent was gone and he would not take advantage of his vessel’s ignorance. Yet he didn’t need to go all the way in to find the latent traces of his future self’s presence, which were enough to give him insight into what was to come.
And he liked that picture even less. Somehow, between now and then, he would grow weary of man’s inhumanity to man and disillusioned by Father’s obstinate refusal to return. Once Lucifer’s vessel released him, Zachariah would present the situation to Michael as a fait accompli, and Michael would see no alternative but to persuade Dean to consent and allow him to kill Lucifer.
The understanding made Michael heartsick. Yes, however much he hated the idea, he would kill Lucifer when the time came. That was what Father wanted, at least as he understood it, and he would not disobey. But did it have to happen like that?
Yet suddenly, he realized that he had already made that future unlikely. He had promised Dean that he wouldn’t hurt the Winchesters, and he refused to lie to his vessels. And this course of events would unquestionably hurt them. Michael had only to decide whether to abide by the letter of his promise and allow others to do the damage or to abide by the spirit of the promise and prevent the damage altogether.
Upon reflection, that wasn’t much of a choice at all. He knew which way Lucifer would go, which meant the other had to be the right choice. All that remained was to receive John’s renewed consent.
John was deeply asleep, and his dream was far from the surface of consciousness. Yet Michael was able to reach it and appear in it easily enough. John was locked in a nightmare about the fighting around Quang Nam and was startled when Michael dispatched the bulk of his now-imagined enemies.
“Uh, thanks?” John ventured.
Michael smiled. “You’re welcome, John. My name is Michael. I need to talk to you.”
John blinked. “About?”
“You don’t remember this, but I asked you for a favor earlier tonight. I need to ask it of you again.”
“You’re right, I don’t remember. What favor?”
“I need your permission to come in and live in you for a time. For the most part, you won’t even know I’m here. You’ll be in full control of your own body unless and until I am needed. But I believe you will need me soon.”
“I will, huh? Why?”
“To save your family from a threat you can’t fight on your own. A demon.”
John frowned. “Wait, this-this is a dream. You’re not real.”
“This is indeed a dream, but I am most assuredly real. I am an archangel, John, but I cannot hide myself effectively from your enemy unless I hide in you. Will you let me?”
“What about....”
“I will give you privacy when you wish to lie with your wife.” Michael was hardly embarrassed by sex between a husband and wife, but he had no desire to engage in it himself, never mind sire a child.
John looked at him oddly. “Lie with? What are you, some kind of Victorian?”
“No. As I told you, I’m an angel of the Lord.”
“What-I don’t believe in angels. Why the hell am I dreaming that I’m talking to one?”
“Because I’m real. John, there isn’t much time. Will you let me in?”
John ran a hand over his mucky, sweaty dream-face. “You’re an angel.”
“Yes.”
“And there’s some demon coming after my family.”
“Yes.”
“And you want to help.”
“Yes.”
John huffed, looked away, and shook his head. “I still can’t believe it’s real. But what the hell. If it’s not real, I got nothin’ to lose by sayin’ yes. If it is real and you’re telling me the truth, then I need to say yes. But if it’s real and you’re lying....”
“I am the Prince of Angels. I don’t lie. But I can give you no guarantee stronger than my word, in my Father’s name, that I am telling you the truth. You must accept that for what it is-or not.”
John looked at Michael steadily for a long moment. Then he sighed. “What the hell. Yes.”
“Thank you, John.” Michael smiled and withdrew from the dream. All will be well, he thought toward Dean. This will not hurt your father.
Not hurt, Dean repeated, as if holding Michael to his promise.
Michael nodded once and entered John, gaining control of the vessel and relinquishing it at once as he pushed back to the very back of John’s mind. John woke with a start, breathing hard, but Michael didn’t speak to him, only drew in on himself as far as he possibly could to minimize John’s awareness of him.
Damn, John thought as he caught his breath. What a freaky dream. He looked over at Mary and saw that she was sleeping peacefully, then looked around the room and (naturally) saw no sign of Michael. I don’t even remember falling asleep-what the hell happened?
Michael held his peace, and soon John went back to sleep.
Good? Dean thought, sounding worried. Not hurt?
Michael assumed control just enough to use John’s hand to rub Mary’s belly, lightly but enough that Dean could physically sense the touch. Not hurt, he thought back with a gentle smile. Good.
Finally, finally, Dean relaxed. Good yes. And he fell asleep.
The next five years flew past, even from a human perspective. Michael kept his promise to John, leaving his body and standing guard over Dean during times when John and Mary had sex but otherwise remaining in that tiny corner of the back of John’s mind as a silent observer. Rarely did he give in to the urge to try to influence John’s behavior, usually only when John was being unusually pigheaded and hurtful toward Mary and ignoring the way it affected Dean. Yet even then, Michael did no more than whisper a suggestion or two-almost never as strong as a rebuke.
When Mary went into labor on May 2, 1983, however, Michael knew that the time for him to act was drawing near. Sam was a beautiful child, especially seen through John’s eyes, and Michael found it hard to believe that his brothers and sisters could see no more potential in Sam than his supposed role as Lucifer’s vessel. There was so much else for him to do, to be! Michael simply couldn’t let the plan proceed-nor could he sit idly by while John’s relationship with Mary became strained. The more determined John became to leave, even for a short time, the more vocal Michael became in convincing him to stay for the sake of the boys. Persuasion still worked, but Michael knew it was probably best for all of them that his presence would be required only a few more months.
The night of November 2 finally arrived, and Michael bided his time as John and Mary put their sons to bed. Mary chose to go on to bed herself, while John chose to go downstairs to watch one of his favorite movies on television. But as John began to nod off, Michael sensed Azazel’s approach, and he unfolded himself from his hiding place at long last, though he kept his power closely veiled. Once he had control of the vessel, he rose from the couch quietly and switched off the television, then walked up the stairs with John’s usual tread so as not to alarm Mary or Dean.
Azazel appeared just as Michael walked into Sam’s nursery. The demon smirked, supposing him to be John, and tried to throw him against the wall. When that didn’t work, Azazel scowled. “What the hell?”
“Not at all,” Michael returned and snapped his fingers, moving the crib instantly into the master bedroom. Then he unfurled his wings and manifested his sword.
“Michael,” Azazel breathed, wide-eyed. “What-how-y-y-you don’t understand-”
“Oh, I understand my brother’s plan. I disapprove. This ends now.” And before the discussion could continue, Michael rammed his sword through Azazel’s borrowed heart and watched dispassionately as the demon fell and died.
John was, at this point, wide awake and terrified. So were Mary and Dean, who’d been awakened by Azazel’s death cry and came running. “John!” Mary gasped. “What on earth-”
Michael turned to face her. “I’m not John-not at the moment, anyway. He is here and unharmed. But you’d better call the police to come deal with this,” he added, gesturing down at the body.
“What-who is that?”
“The man he was did not deserve this fate, and I regret I could not spare him. But he was possessed... by the yellow-eyed demon, Azazel.”
Mary gasped loudly. “H-he c-c-came-but th-the deal was....”
“The deal was for entrance into your house on the night it was due, and should there be an infant newborn or under the age of six months, he could return on the night the child turned six months old.”
“To-to steal? He said-”
“No, not to steal the boy, though that is what you should tell the police.” Michael glanced down at Dean briefly. “His true purpose is not for a child’s ears. But it involved blood-and had you interrupted, you would have died.”
Dean cried out in distress and hugged Mary with all his might.
Mary struggled for composure for a moment as she hugged Dean as best she could without letting down her guard. When she could, however, she asked, “Who are you? What are you?”
“I am Michael.”
“The archangel?!” both mother and son yelped, and Dean turned his head to look wide-eyed at Michael without letting go of Mary.
“Indeed so.” And Michael showed them the shadows of his wings. “Don’t be afraid,” he added as he veiled his wings again. “My only purpose here was to stop Azazel. John is my vessel, but I will return him to you whole and well once this night is past. Sam will be out of danger then.”
He damn well better be! John exploded. And you’d damn well better tell us how to keep those things out of our house!
“I will set wards,” Michael promised, unable to keep from chuckling. “They need not be visible to be effective.”
Mary sighed. “I should have known it was too good to be true. You can leave the life, but the life never leaves you.”
That startled John. What the hell is she talking about?
Michael ignored him. “Mary, this isn’t simply about hunting. Your family is a unique case-Winchester as well as Campbell. You don’t have to raise your children as hunters; you do have a choice. But that said, teaching them and John some basic means of defense against the supernatural would be wise. You should not leave them unprotected.”
She nodded slowly.
“We can speak more of this later. First, we must deal with the police.” Michael snapped his fingers again, raising wards at the same time he returned the crib and a very distraught Sam to the nursery and caused the window to look like it had been forced open.
Mary nodded more decisively this time. “Can you take them downstairs?” she asked, meaning Dean and Sam. “I can call from the bedroom phone.”
“Sure.” Michael turned and gently retrieved Sam from the crib, then took Dean’s hand and took both children down to the living room while Mary went to call the police.
Sam’s cries quieted somewhat as he rested against Michael’s shoulder, but his mind did not. Michael could hear him trying to make sense of things: Daddy-not Daddy-bright bright, smell wrong, move fast, Daddy hands, Daddy hug-not Daddy-good? Bad feel, bad man... bad man go. Daddy here, Daddy good. Not Daddy. Scared. Want Daddy.
Aw, Sammy, I’m right here, buddy, John thought back, though of course Sam couldn’t hear him. Dammit, Michael, can’t you see he needs me?
Let us get settled, Michael replied. Then you may have control until the police come.
But once they were down in the living room, Dean hesitated to sit down on the couch beside Michael. Instead he stood staring up into Michael’s face, wide-eyed and silent.
Michael smiled gently at him. “Don’t be afraid, Dean.”
“Are you really a angel?” Dean asked so quietly a mortal would barely have heard him.
Michael nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Why are you wearing my daddy?”
“I could not have appeared here in my true form without hurting anyone. My voice would leave you deaf. My face would burn your eyes. And while you don’t remember it now, I promised you a long time ago that I wouldn’t hurt your family.”
“When?”
“Before you were born.”
Dean inched closer. “Is my daddy in Heaven?”
Michael put his free hand on Dean’s head. “No. He’s right here. I need to be the one to talk to the police, but I’ll let him speak to you until then.”
“An’... after that... are you gonna stay?” Michael wasn’t sure whether that question was asked in hope or fear, and he didn’t think Dean was sure, either.
The answer was the same either way, however. “No. I need to go back to Heaven.”
“Oh.” There was definite disappointment then, as well as relief that John would be himself again.
Michael ran his hand down to rest on Dean’s cheek. “But I can send another angel to be your guardian, if you like. You wouldn’t be able to see him, but he would be here. Would you like that?”
Dean’s eyes lit up a little. “I think so. What’s his name?”
“Castiel. He’s been curious about humans for a long time. I think he’d like you.”
“Castyul. Could I call him Cas?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Dean began to smile. “’Kay. That sounds awesome.”
Michael smiled back. “It’s a deal, then. And your father and I are connected now. If ever you need me again, he can call for me, and I’ll come.”
“’Kay. Can I talk to Daddy now?”
“All right.” And Michael withdrew his control.
John gasped as he felt the shift, looking at Dean with eyes as wide as his son’s. Then he looked around wildly, gulping down deep breath after deep breath.
“Daddy?” Dean asked.
John looked back down at him again. “Yeah. Yeah, buddy, it’s me.”
“AAAAH!” cried Sam as Dean yelped “DADDY!” and scrambled into John’s lap.
John crushed both boys against his broad chest, unable to hold back tears. “Oh, Sammy, Deano....”
And Dean hugged back just as fiercely. “Daddy, Daddy, you’re okay, you’re okay!”
“Oh, baby boys... we’re safe, thank God, thank God....”
Mary came in at that point and gasped. “John?!”
John turned to her and sobbed, “Mary....”
“John!” She rushed to the couch and hugged John and both boys at once, and both adults wept together for a moment.
“Are you okay, Daddy?” Dean finally asked.
John swiped at his face to rub away the tears and nodded. “Yeah. Pretty freaked out, but I’m okay.”
“And Michael?” Mary wondered.
“He’s still here. He’ll be back when the cops get here. Mary, this power... I don’t... I can’t get my head around it. I can feel his wings.”
And though Michael wasn’t sure at that moment whether it was by his will or John’s, said wings wrapped protectively about the huddled family.
“John, how... how did he....”
John shook his head. “There was some dream I had a few years back, before Dean was born, where he asked me. I think I said yes-but I d-... I didn’t think it was real.” His eyes widened. “What else is real?”
Now it was Mary’s turn to shake her head as she ran a comforting hand over Dean’s head. “More than you know. So many things I didn’t want you and the boys to have to know about. Oh, John, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault....”
“Shh. Hey.” He pulled her closer and kissed her. “Michael saved us. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
And thus they sat, holding one another and crying quietly, until the police arrived. Then, as Mary went to answer the door, Michael took over again and answered all of the officers’ questions with believable answers. Mary backed his story with a hunter’s practiced ease, and even Dean, when asked why John had killed the intruder, said only, “He was gonna hurt Sammy.”
When the forensics team arrived, however, one member stopped short of coming into the house and volunteered to examine the evidence on the front lawn. Then, once everyone else was out of earshot, she tried to convince Michael to bring Sam outside.
“I think not,” Michael replied. “And don’t think I need my sword to deal with you, Megara.”
The possessed technician hissed, her eyes going black. “Michael!”
“The plan has failed. You will not touch this child.”
“He’s ours! He’s OURS!”
“GO TO HELL!” he commanded, and the demon shrieked and came out, at which point the technician fainted dead away.
John was stunned. Is it always that easy?
Michael chuckled inwardly and moved back toward the living room while one of the coroner’s aides checked on the technician. Only for me. Mortals would need to use an exorcism. And there are few weapons that a mortal can wield that would kill any demon, let alone one as strong as Azazel or Megara. I advise you not to try.
What about... the other things? The things Mary won’t talk about in front of Dean?
Michael paused. John, what is it you truly want? For me to hand you all the answers, or for Mary to work with you and help you learn them on your own?
John pondered that question as the coroner’s team finally removed the body of Azazel’s host from the house. Then, instead of answering it, he asked, It was you, wasn’t it, keeping me here? Making me work things out with Mary?
I didn’t force you. I could have-if necessary, I would have. But you do love her, as you love your sons. You simply needed a different perspective.
I almost lost her tonight. I... I could have... h-how could I have made it without her?
You’d have managed, Michael answered honestly. Not well, perhaps. You would have become a hunter, driven by fear for your children and vengeance over Mary’s death. You would not, of your own accord, have been able to prevent Azazel’s plan for Sam from coming perilously close to fruition. But however much the life would have hurt them, you would have succeeded in raising strong, honorable sons who would, in the end, have done the right thing.
John sighed mentally. I don’t want that. I... I know I’m... not the easiest person to like. Sometimes I... hell, I don’t know how to be a dad and not a DI. I want the boys raised right.
Michael just managed not to tilt his head physically. For that, they need both you and Mary. Neither of you can do as well alone as you both can together.
But I want them safe, too, Michael. So how do I do both? How do I... I mean, you said we don’t have to do this hunting thing, but....
Talk with Mary. Really talk, and listen to what she tells you. Be open and honest with one another. And decide together what to do with what she knows. So long as you both determine to work together come what may, you will do well.
John would have taken a deep breath and let it out again had he been able. So the other stuff-I should learn it from Mary?
And from others. The Campbells are not the only hunters in this country. I believe the owner of Singer Salvage Yard in Sioux Falls would be a good friend to have, professionally as well as for hunting. And John, don’t shield your sons from this knowledge forever. Give them the freedom to choose what to do with what they know, as I am giving you, and don’t burden them too soon. But ignorance will not save them.
John took the mental equivalent of another deep breath. Okay. I’ll do my best.
Michael smiled. Then you’ll do well.
At long last, well after midnight, the police finished their work, returned Michael’s sword to him, and left. Michael helped Mary put the children to bed once more, renewing his promises to Dean to send Castiel and to come to their aid if there was again great need. And finally, he walked with Mary back to the master bedroom.
“I’ll take my leave now,” he told her. “Even should any demon be able to breach these wards, it’s too late for Sam’s blood to be corrupted. You should be safe.”
Mary sighed deeply. “Michael, how can I thank you?”
“Be honest with John. Hold nothing back from him. And choose with him how to live hereafter.”
She nodded. “I just wanted a normal life.”
He smiled. “Normal, to quote one of your comediennes, is only a setting on the dryer.”
That got a smile out of her.
“As I told Dean, there is an open line between John and me now. I will know and come if I am needed. But I doubt the need will be that great. So long as you work together, being honest with one another and serving each other and your children as best you can, you will not need to fear the future.”
After a brief hesitation, she hugged him. “Thank you. Thank you.”
He rubbed her back. “Fare you well, Mary Winchester.” And he departed, leaving his vessel in the arms of his beloved.
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