Fic - Vow
So this is what happens after 9 hours in the car and procrastinating when I should be preparing for summer school! This is what I imagine would happen if the Black Dagger Brotherhood encountered the Winchesters...
Title - Vow
Characters - BDB: Tohrment, Lassiter (everone else mentioned in passing); Dean & Sam Winchester
Word Count - 2,600
Jesus Christ - what the hell happened out there?
Almost 24 hours later, Tohr didn’t have a clear answer to that question. Half of their fighting force was out of commission after a brutal encounter with an unusually large force of lessers; although Doc Jane and Manny had saved Rhage’s life, it was still unclear if they could save his arm; the two human males who had been swept up in the melee were basically under house arrest and now Lassiter was up his ass and more cranked than Tohr had ever seen him.
The angel was actually on the verge of pulling his black and blonde hair out as he paced around Tohr’s office.
“If you could just, somehow, get him out of the room I could attend to the one who’s hurt.”
The “him” in question was the human hunter who hadn’t been injured - well, less injured than his brother; at least he was still conscious. And he was stuck to his brother’s side like any of the rest of them would be in the same situation. The human was unarmed, outnumbered and completely surrounded, yet he gave off a territorial vibe that made his intentions very clear - he was going to go down fighting if anyone tried to get past him.
Tohr crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against his desk. The scenario made no sense and Lassiter refused to come clean.
“Why can’t you just do,” Tohr wiggled his fingers in Lassiter’s direction, “some angel mojo and put him to sleep?”
Lassiter stopped his pacing. His face took on an unusually somber expression; Tohr could smell the tang of sadness and the sharp edge of guilt rolling forth from the angel. What the hell?
“They’ve been through enough.” Lassiter’s voice was rough with emotion and he wouldn’t meet Tohr’s eyes. “No more tricks or deception…it’s not right.”
There was a whole lot of something there that Tohr just didn’t have time to sort through. “What happens if you don’t get in there?”
Lassiter raised his eyes. “He’ll throw a blood clot from the wound in his leg. Jane can’t stop it. It will kill him.”
Tohr pulled himself up off of his desk and dropped his arms. “Let’s go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was too much that Tohrment didn’t know about what had gone down the night before, but one thing was very clear - the humans were the only reason Rhage was still breathing. For that, the Brotherhood owed them.
On patrol the Brothers ran into unusual confluence of more than one unit of lessers. It was probably a result of poor communication after more restructuring in the upper levels of the Lessening Society. Whatever the reason, the set of lessers Z and Rhage had been following ran into a second set of lessers on patrol. Ten lessers were not too much for the Brothers to handle, but both units called for backup and things quickly spiraled out of control.
By the time Tohr, Butch and Vishous joined the fight, the lesser ranks had swelled to over twenty, but Rhage had unleashed the Beast. The tide should’ve turned in their favor at that point but that’s when one lesser threw back its head and appeared to swallow its own face with all the teeth and fangs it sprouted. Tohr, like everyone else in the alley, couldn’t help but be shocked into stillness by the appearance of the creature - it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Even the other lessers were stunned by the monster in their midst.
The creature, understanding that the greatest threat was the Beast, latched onto the iridescent green dragon and just about ripped its arm off. Rhage immediately shifted back into his own form, blood gushing everywhere. That’s when those two crazy humans ran into the fray to face the monster down. They were armed with fire-extinguishers for fuck’s sake! But whatever those tanks were loaded with was anathema to the grotesque creature. The humans hurt it bad enough for it to release Rhage completely and they took it out by chopping off its head, but the battle with the lessers still raged around them and the taller human was injured in the fight.
In the aftermath there was no choice but to bring the humans back to the compound. They couldn’t split their forces by taking the humans to a hospital of their own kind and risk losing contact with them. Almost as important as healing the injured human was getting information from the other about the strange and frightening enemy they faced.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tohr was not surprised to see so many bodies crowding the hallway of the Brotherhood’s underground clinic. Z was standing like a sentry outside of Rhage’s room, looking far too much like his old self to be a comfort to anyone. Seated on the floor near Z’s feet was Manny, his head slumped over his knees and his hands hanging loose between them; from what Jane said, Manny worked brilliantly and had given Rhage the best shot for keeping his arm.
Glancing into Rhage’s room as they passed, Tohr saw the immobile form of his brother swathed in bandages across his broad chest and down his arm. Mary didn’t look toward the movement in the hallway, all of her focus, all of her energy was for her hellren. She looked gray and diminished to Tohr; he swallowed hard and refused to let his thoughts dwell on the fact that if they lost the Brother, they’d lose Mary too.
Tohr’s shitkickers propelled him swiftly down the remaining length of the hallway. John Matthew, Blaylock and Quinn were loitering between Rhage’s room and the room with the humans in it, but far enough away to be out of the human’s line of sight. The presence of anyone without some sort of medical function put the human on edge, and the last thing they needed was for him to go off the deep end. Tohr nodded at the boys in acknowledgement but didn’t pause to chat. He didn’t want to be derailed.
Walking toward Tohr from the direction of the mansion were Wrath, Beth and George. It wasn’t Tohr’s intention to get Wrath involved in this, but his appearance was serendipitous, so Tohr decided to take advantage.
George paused before the open door, allowing Tohr to approach Wrath. Wrath reached out his right arm to Tohr. “My brother,” he said in greeting.
Tohr grasped his arm warmly in return. “My lord.” He tipped his head toward Beth. “My queen.”
“Have there been any changes?”
Tohr shook his head automatically although Wrath would be unable to see the gesture. “Rhage is as stable as Doc Jane and Manny can make him. Now we’re on wait-and-see. Butch sucked the life out of more lessers than he ever has in one sitting; V is doing what he can to help him out. And Lassiter needs some face time with the humans.”
Wrath’s expression changed from one of concern to slight surprise. His eyebrows rose even higher as Tohr continued to speak.
“My lord, I would ask a boon.”
“What do you need, my brother?”
“Things may get a little heavy with the human. I ask that you keep them out in the hallway.” Tohr nodded his head to the right indicating the boys and Z.
Wrath’s eyebrows drew down behind his dark sunglasses. “Whatever you need, Tohr.”
Tohr nodded his thanks, and then he stepped into the room with Lassiter tight on his heels.
The human, sitting in the wide chair next to the bed looked up warily. He rose to his feet, probably not as swiftly as he would have liked, and tried to hide a wince as he favored his right side.
“How’s he doing?” Tohr nodded toward the figure on the bed, but moved no further into the room. He could smell suspicion and anxiety rolling off the human in waves, but he made a good show of hiding it.
“Holding his own.” The human’s voice was rough; he reminded Tohr a little of Butch.
Tohr could feel Lassiter practically vibrating with tension behind him. The injured human was running out of time.
“What do you say we help him so he’s more than holding his own?” Tohr kept his voice low and reasonable. He gestured to Lassiter and stepped slightly to the side so the human could get a look at him.
Tohr tried to see Lassiter the way an outsider would. He was tall, solidly built and his blonde and black hair gave that mane of Phury’s a run for its money. He was dressed in casual camel slacks and a black cashmere sweater. He certainly wouldn’t pass for a doctor, but Tohr thought he looked almost harmless.
That was not what the human thought. For the human there was recognition.
Tohr couldn’t follow the cavalcade of rushing thoughts and emotions emanating from the human until the man landed on one solid idea - ANGEL.
Like nothing else in the past 24 hours - lessers, crazy face-eating monsters, the Beast, being kidnapped by aggressive leather wearing, weapon packing males - being faced with Lassiter revitalized the human until he was overflowing with aggressive hostility toward the angel and extreme protectiveness toward the human on the bed. His brother.
Of course.
Lassiter held his hands out before him, pleading, appeasing. “Dean Winchester…”
“You don’t touch him..” Dean moved closer to the foot of the bed, giving himself a little more room to maneuver. Tohr didn’t miss how he scanned the room for something to use as a weapon. He had to respect that.
Though their voices weren’t raised, the tone got the attention of those in the hallway. Tohr knew he could count on Wrath to keep the others at bay.
“Hunter,” Tohr addressed Dean, “your brother has very little time left. Lassiter can help him.”
Tohr could hear the human’s heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He knew the man was feeling outgunned and cornered.
“If he needs a doctor, get the doctor!” Dean demanded.
“There’s a clot in his leg, Dean Winchester. If it shakes loose there is nothing that the doctor can do. Please,” Lassiter pleaded, “let me help Sam.”
Tohr did not understand the standoff between the two others in the room. He could not fathom why Lassiter spoke with such reverence to the human and refused to act without permission. He never asked permission of anyone else! And why, knowing that his brother was in imminent danger did the human reject the help of an angel? How often did a miracle on legs literally walk into a room?
“Hunter.” Tohr drew the human’s attention back to himself as he approached slowly. He drew a dagger out of its holder with his left hand and held it, hilt out. Tohr pushed the dagger into the man’s unresisting grip as he gracefully sank to his knees before him and held his hands out to his sides defenseless. He spoke in the Old Language.
On my honor, your brother will come to no harm within these walls. I pledge my life for the angel’s surety that his only intention is to heal.
Tohr heard the gasps from the doorway but he didn’t look away from the man before him. The human looked completely stunned. Even though he did not understand the words Tohr used, the intention was clear. Tohr knelt a little taller and exposed his throat to his own dagger.
“Take care of his brother, Lassiter.”
Dean shifted his weight slightly and placed his left hand on Tohr’s shoulder. It wasn’t clear if he was trying to hold Tohr in place or keep himself from falling over. But his grip on the dagger was secure; the pressure at Tohr’s throat was steady.
“Just the leg. Just take care of the leg.” Dean ground out.
Lassiter moved swiftly toward the far side of the bed. Unfortunately that gave the onlookers in the hallway a much better view of what was going on with Dean and Tohr. An explosion of frozen air pushed through the room and in spite of Wrath’s words there were sounds of a struggle.
Tohr kept his gaze steadily on the human’s face. The hunter, meanwhile, only had eyes for the angel. The work was done in a matter of seconds. Lassiter heaved an audible sigh of relief. “It is done.”
Dean swallowed tightly. His grip convulsed on Tohr’s shoulder but the blade didn’t move.
“Wake him up.” Dean ordered.
Lassiter glanced at Tohr. Tohr nodded. The scrambling noises in the hallway increased and Tohr’s heart broke a little at the sounds he knew only John Matthew could make. A whistle sounded loud and clear - John Matthew’s signal for Do you need help?
Tohr swallowed, but wasn’t able to whistle back.
Movement from the bed got Tohr’s attention. He turned to look and so did Dean. The other man hadn’t fully roused to consciousness when he started asking, “Dean?”
The blade at Tohr’s neck slid a little to the right resting on his shoulder. He could feel the human trembling so he placed his hand on Dean’s wrist to steady him.
“Sammy? You awake, Sam?”
Sam rubbed his eyes and rolled in the direction of Dean’s voice. When he opened his eyes, he could not comprehend the tableau he saw. “Dean? What the hell?!” Sam sat up in alarm and it was immediately obvious that it was a bad idea. He groaned, curled into himself and fell back onto the pillow.
There was frantic movement in the hallway. It sounded like Jane had jumped into the fray. Thank Jesus V was busy with Butch.
Lassiter’s hands shot up in the air like he was being arrested. “The leg! You said to just take care of the leg!”
Tohr could feel relief as it rushed through the human. The sound of his brother’s voice was like a balm to him.
Dean, very obviously, took a large step back away from Tohr and closer to the bed. With the ease of someone practiced in handling weapons, Dean reversed his grip on the dagger and held it hilt first toward Tohrment. Tohr rose from the floor, took the dagger in his left hand and looked into his face. The man had the most expressive eyes. His relief and gratitude were palpable, and it was clear to Tohr that he was on the verge of utter collapse.
With his right hand Tohr grasped the smaller man by the back of his neck and pulled him into his shoulder. “Be at ease between these walls, Hunter. No harm shall come to you or your brother here.”
Dean took a deep breath, nodded against his shoulder and choked out, “Thanks.”
Tohr released Dean, and gave Sam a smack on the leg as he headed out toward the assembly in the hall. Lassiter had already vanished from the room. Wrath was an imposing figure in the doorway, but Tohr slid past him angling immediately for John Matthew who was still caught up between Quinn and Blay.
Just as he had with the human, Tohr grasped John Matthew by the back of his neck and pulled his head toward his shoulder. “I’m sorry I scared you, son. I was never in any danger.”
John Matthew pulled away and made the universal sign for “Fuck you”. Then he lurched forward and grabbed Tohr in a bone crushing hug.
“You want to explain just what the hell happened in there, Tohrment?” Wrath’s eyes blazed behind his shades.
Tohr looked into the room. Sam had shifted to make room for Dean on the bed. Their heads were bent together as they spoke in hushed tones. Tohr couldn’t see the future like V, but he had the very strong feeling that something important had just been set right.
Title - Vow
Characters - BDB: Tohrment, Lassiter (everone else mentioned in passing); Dean & Sam Winchester
Word Count - 2,600
Jesus Christ - what the hell happened out there?
Almost 24 hours later, Tohr didn’t have a clear answer to that question. Half of their fighting force was out of commission after a brutal encounter with an unusually large force of lessers; although Doc Jane and Manny had saved Rhage’s life, it was still unclear if they could save his arm; the two human males who had been swept up in the melee were basically under house arrest and now Lassiter was up his ass and more cranked than Tohr had ever seen him.
The angel was actually on the verge of pulling his black and blonde hair out as he paced around Tohr’s office.
“If you could just, somehow, get him out of the room I could attend to the one who’s hurt.”
The “him” in question was the human hunter who hadn’t been injured - well, less injured than his brother; at least he was still conscious. And he was stuck to his brother’s side like any of the rest of them would be in the same situation. The human was unarmed, outnumbered and completely surrounded, yet he gave off a territorial vibe that made his intentions very clear - he was going to go down fighting if anyone tried to get past him.
Tohr crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against his desk. The scenario made no sense and Lassiter refused to come clean.
“Why can’t you just do,” Tohr wiggled his fingers in Lassiter’s direction, “some angel mojo and put him to sleep?”
Lassiter stopped his pacing. His face took on an unusually somber expression; Tohr could smell the tang of sadness and the sharp edge of guilt rolling forth from the angel. What the hell?
“They’ve been through enough.” Lassiter’s voice was rough with emotion and he wouldn’t meet Tohr’s eyes. “No more tricks or deception…it’s not right.”
There was a whole lot of something there that Tohr just didn’t have time to sort through. “What happens if you don’t get in there?”
Lassiter raised his eyes. “He’ll throw a blood clot from the wound in his leg. Jane can’t stop it. It will kill him.”
Tohr pulled himself up off of his desk and dropped his arms. “Let’s go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was too much that Tohrment didn’t know about what had gone down the night before, but one thing was very clear - the humans were the only reason Rhage was still breathing. For that, the Brotherhood owed them.
On patrol the Brothers ran into unusual confluence of more than one unit of lessers. It was probably a result of poor communication after more restructuring in the upper levels of the Lessening Society. Whatever the reason, the set of lessers Z and Rhage had been following ran into a second set of lessers on patrol. Ten lessers were not too much for the Brothers to handle, but both units called for backup and things quickly spiraled out of control.
By the time Tohr, Butch and Vishous joined the fight, the lesser ranks had swelled to over twenty, but Rhage had unleashed the Beast. The tide should’ve turned in their favor at that point but that’s when one lesser threw back its head and appeared to swallow its own face with all the teeth and fangs it sprouted. Tohr, like everyone else in the alley, couldn’t help but be shocked into stillness by the appearance of the creature - it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Even the other lessers were stunned by the monster in their midst.
The creature, understanding that the greatest threat was the Beast, latched onto the iridescent green dragon and just about ripped its arm off. Rhage immediately shifted back into his own form, blood gushing everywhere. That’s when those two crazy humans ran into the fray to face the monster down. They were armed with fire-extinguishers for fuck’s sake! But whatever those tanks were loaded with was anathema to the grotesque creature. The humans hurt it bad enough for it to release Rhage completely and they took it out by chopping off its head, but the battle with the lessers still raged around them and the taller human was injured in the fight.
In the aftermath there was no choice but to bring the humans back to the compound. They couldn’t split their forces by taking the humans to a hospital of their own kind and risk losing contact with them. Almost as important as healing the injured human was getting information from the other about the strange and frightening enemy they faced.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tohr was not surprised to see so many bodies crowding the hallway of the Brotherhood’s underground clinic. Z was standing like a sentry outside of Rhage’s room, looking far too much like his old self to be a comfort to anyone. Seated on the floor near Z’s feet was Manny, his head slumped over his knees and his hands hanging loose between them; from what Jane said, Manny worked brilliantly and had given Rhage the best shot for keeping his arm.
Glancing into Rhage’s room as they passed, Tohr saw the immobile form of his brother swathed in bandages across his broad chest and down his arm. Mary didn’t look toward the movement in the hallway, all of her focus, all of her energy was for her hellren. She looked gray and diminished to Tohr; he swallowed hard and refused to let his thoughts dwell on the fact that if they lost the Brother, they’d lose Mary too.
Tohr’s shitkickers propelled him swiftly down the remaining length of the hallway. John Matthew, Blaylock and Quinn were loitering between Rhage’s room and the room with the humans in it, but far enough away to be out of the human’s line of sight. The presence of anyone without some sort of medical function put the human on edge, and the last thing they needed was for him to go off the deep end. Tohr nodded at the boys in acknowledgement but didn’t pause to chat. He didn’t want to be derailed.
Walking toward Tohr from the direction of the mansion were Wrath, Beth and George. It wasn’t Tohr’s intention to get Wrath involved in this, but his appearance was serendipitous, so Tohr decided to take advantage.
George paused before the open door, allowing Tohr to approach Wrath. Wrath reached out his right arm to Tohr. “My brother,” he said in greeting.
Tohr grasped his arm warmly in return. “My lord.” He tipped his head toward Beth. “My queen.”
“Have there been any changes?”
Tohr shook his head automatically although Wrath would be unable to see the gesture. “Rhage is as stable as Doc Jane and Manny can make him. Now we’re on wait-and-see. Butch sucked the life out of more lessers than he ever has in one sitting; V is doing what he can to help him out. And Lassiter needs some face time with the humans.”
Wrath’s expression changed from one of concern to slight surprise. His eyebrows rose even higher as Tohr continued to speak.
“My lord, I would ask a boon.”
“What do you need, my brother?”
“Things may get a little heavy with the human. I ask that you keep them out in the hallway.” Tohr nodded his head to the right indicating the boys and Z.
Wrath’s eyebrows drew down behind his dark sunglasses. “Whatever you need, Tohr.”
Tohr nodded his thanks, and then he stepped into the room with Lassiter tight on his heels.
The human, sitting in the wide chair next to the bed looked up warily. He rose to his feet, probably not as swiftly as he would have liked, and tried to hide a wince as he favored his right side.
“How’s he doing?” Tohr nodded toward the figure on the bed, but moved no further into the room. He could smell suspicion and anxiety rolling off the human in waves, but he made a good show of hiding it.
“Holding his own.” The human’s voice was rough; he reminded Tohr a little of Butch.
Tohr could feel Lassiter practically vibrating with tension behind him. The injured human was running out of time.
“What do you say we help him so he’s more than holding his own?” Tohr kept his voice low and reasonable. He gestured to Lassiter and stepped slightly to the side so the human could get a look at him.
Tohr tried to see Lassiter the way an outsider would. He was tall, solidly built and his blonde and black hair gave that mane of Phury’s a run for its money. He was dressed in casual camel slacks and a black cashmere sweater. He certainly wouldn’t pass for a doctor, but Tohr thought he looked almost harmless.
That was not what the human thought. For the human there was recognition.
Tohr couldn’t follow the cavalcade of rushing thoughts and emotions emanating from the human until the man landed on one solid idea - ANGEL.
Like nothing else in the past 24 hours - lessers, crazy face-eating monsters, the Beast, being kidnapped by aggressive leather wearing, weapon packing males - being faced with Lassiter revitalized the human until he was overflowing with aggressive hostility toward the angel and extreme protectiveness toward the human on the bed. His brother.
Of course.
Lassiter held his hands out before him, pleading, appeasing. “Dean Winchester…”
“You don’t touch him..” Dean moved closer to the foot of the bed, giving himself a little more room to maneuver. Tohr didn’t miss how he scanned the room for something to use as a weapon. He had to respect that.
Though their voices weren’t raised, the tone got the attention of those in the hallway. Tohr knew he could count on Wrath to keep the others at bay.
“Hunter,” Tohr addressed Dean, “your brother has very little time left. Lassiter can help him.”
Tohr could hear the human’s heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He knew the man was feeling outgunned and cornered.
“If he needs a doctor, get the doctor!” Dean demanded.
“There’s a clot in his leg, Dean Winchester. If it shakes loose there is nothing that the doctor can do. Please,” Lassiter pleaded, “let me help Sam.”
Tohr did not understand the standoff between the two others in the room. He could not fathom why Lassiter spoke with such reverence to the human and refused to act without permission. He never asked permission of anyone else! And why, knowing that his brother was in imminent danger did the human reject the help of an angel? How often did a miracle on legs literally walk into a room?
“Hunter.” Tohr drew the human’s attention back to himself as he approached slowly. He drew a dagger out of its holder with his left hand and held it, hilt out. Tohr pushed the dagger into the man’s unresisting grip as he gracefully sank to his knees before him and held his hands out to his sides defenseless. He spoke in the Old Language.
On my honor, your brother will come to no harm within these walls. I pledge my life for the angel’s surety that his only intention is to heal.
Tohr heard the gasps from the doorway but he didn’t look away from the man before him. The human looked completely stunned. Even though he did not understand the words Tohr used, the intention was clear. Tohr knelt a little taller and exposed his throat to his own dagger.
“Take care of his brother, Lassiter.”
Dean shifted his weight slightly and placed his left hand on Tohr’s shoulder. It wasn’t clear if he was trying to hold Tohr in place or keep himself from falling over. But his grip on the dagger was secure; the pressure at Tohr’s throat was steady.
“Just the leg. Just take care of the leg.” Dean ground out.
Lassiter moved swiftly toward the far side of the bed. Unfortunately that gave the onlookers in the hallway a much better view of what was going on with Dean and Tohr. An explosion of frozen air pushed through the room and in spite of Wrath’s words there were sounds of a struggle.
Tohr kept his gaze steadily on the human’s face. The hunter, meanwhile, only had eyes for the angel. The work was done in a matter of seconds. Lassiter heaved an audible sigh of relief. “It is done.”
Dean swallowed tightly. His grip convulsed on Tohr’s shoulder but the blade didn’t move.
“Wake him up.” Dean ordered.
Lassiter glanced at Tohr. Tohr nodded. The scrambling noises in the hallway increased and Tohr’s heart broke a little at the sounds he knew only John Matthew could make. A whistle sounded loud and clear - John Matthew’s signal for Do you need help?
Tohr swallowed, but wasn’t able to whistle back.
Movement from the bed got Tohr’s attention. He turned to look and so did Dean. The other man hadn’t fully roused to consciousness when he started asking, “Dean?”
The blade at Tohr’s neck slid a little to the right resting on his shoulder. He could feel the human trembling so he placed his hand on Dean’s wrist to steady him.
“Sammy? You awake, Sam?”
Sam rubbed his eyes and rolled in the direction of Dean’s voice. When he opened his eyes, he could not comprehend the tableau he saw. “Dean? What the hell?!” Sam sat up in alarm and it was immediately obvious that it was a bad idea. He groaned, curled into himself and fell back onto the pillow.
There was frantic movement in the hallway. It sounded like Jane had jumped into the fray. Thank Jesus V was busy with Butch.
Lassiter’s hands shot up in the air like he was being arrested. “The leg! You said to just take care of the leg!”
Tohr could feel relief as it rushed through the human. The sound of his brother’s voice was like a balm to him.
Dean, very obviously, took a large step back away from Tohr and closer to the bed. With the ease of someone practiced in handling weapons, Dean reversed his grip on the dagger and held it hilt first toward Tohrment. Tohr rose from the floor, took the dagger in his left hand and looked into his face. The man had the most expressive eyes. His relief and gratitude were palpable, and it was clear to Tohr that he was on the verge of utter collapse.
With his right hand Tohr grasped the smaller man by the back of his neck and pulled him into his shoulder. “Be at ease between these walls, Hunter. No harm shall come to you or your brother here.”
Dean took a deep breath, nodded against his shoulder and choked out, “Thanks.”
Tohr released Dean, and gave Sam a smack on the leg as he headed out toward the assembly in the hall. Lassiter had already vanished from the room. Wrath was an imposing figure in the doorway, but Tohr slid past him angling immediately for John Matthew who was still caught up between Quinn and Blay.
Just as he had with the human, Tohr grasped John Matthew by the back of his neck and pulled his head toward his shoulder. “I’m sorry I scared you, son. I was never in any danger.”
John Matthew pulled away and made the universal sign for “Fuck you”. Then he lurched forward and grabbed Tohr in a bone crushing hug.
“You want to explain just what the hell happened in there, Tohrment?” Wrath’s eyes blazed behind his shades.
Tohr looked into the room. Sam had shifted to make room for Dean on the bed. Their heads were bent together as they spoke in hushed tones. Tohr couldn’t see the future like V, but he had the very strong feeling that something important had just been set right.