The Consequences of Prophesy Part Two
Part One
June 21, 1983
“Come on, Sammy,” four year old Dean Winchester said.
Seven week old Sammy gurgled, and waved his hand around, but beyond that, the newborn didn’t do anything
Dean laughed anyway. Sammy gurgled again. Mary leaned over them both. “Come on, Dean. It’s time for you and Sammy to go to bed.”
“Ok, Mommy,” Dean said. “Can I help get him ready?”
Mary smiled. “Of course, and then we’ll get you ready.”
Dean “helped” his mother get Sammy ready for bed before getting ready for bed himself.
Mary tucked him into bed and returned downstairs. Dean waited a minute or two before sneaking out of his room, and down the hall into Sammy’s nursery. He did this every night, and he wasn’t going to miss a night. He had to watch Sammy go to sleep, and make sure the monster in the closet didn’t get his brother before Sammy was asleep.
He had to be a big brother to Sammy. He entered the room and screamed.
The three men who were gathered around Sammy’s crib whirled around.
“The other boy,” one of them snarled.
Dean, instinctively, knew that they were here to hurt Sammy. “Leave Sammy alone!” he shouted.
“Shut him up,” the one who was apparently the leader said.
The oldest of the men reached out to grab the four year old. “Poor kid. Older brother to the antichrist. We should probably put him out of his misery too.”
Dean ducked, just like he did when John tried to get him to take a bath. The man had managed to get a grip on Dean’s left shoulder, and pain bloomed even as he escaped. Dean ran between the legs of the man and clambered up the side of the crib, just as Mary appeared in the door way.
The men were distracted from the boys as John appeared beside her.
Dean folding himself around Sammy, who was crying now. Dean began to cry too. His shoulder hurt so much, and he was so scared.
Mary launched herself at the men with a wild yell. Dean watched, wide eyed, as John, again, followed her lead. The fight was brutal, but his parents were winning.
Dean just barely heard the front door crash open and more people run up the stairs.
John was ready to meet them, trusting Mary to handle the ones already in the nursery.
Dean whimpered as one of the two remaining men got behind Mary and grabbed her head. The loud crack echoed through the room.
The man turned to his companion. “Kill them,” he said, nodding at the crib. “Better kill the older boy, just to be safe, like Jeff suggested.”
Dean clutched Sammy to him, even though it hurt his shoulder, and Sammy screamed in pain. He wouldn’t let the other man hurt Sammy.
“Please,” the little boy whimpered. “Don’t hurt Sammy.”
The man hesitated. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said. “But…”
“You’re not going to touch them.”
Dean looked up. His father stood at the doorway. “Daddy!” Dean yelled.
John flicked his gaze to Dean for an instant. “Protect your brother, Dean,” he ordered, before turning his attention to the men still in the room. He saw Mary on the floor and sighed. “I see I was too late,” he said. Dean’s eyes widened as his Dad’s eyes turned yellow.
The men brought their guns up, but John just gestured, and they both hit the wall.
Dean gasped. His dad was a superhero! He had to be!
Sammy had quieted, and one hand grasped Dean’s finger. Both boys were wide eyed as they watched John deal with the attackers. “You are fools,” he said. “That baby there? He’s innocent. Completely human. He could have been a Hunter, you know. You attacked an innocent family. But now they have my attention, thanks to you, and yes, I think I can use him, and his older brother. Of course, I’ll need their father’s permission, but I think John will give it to me, especially after you Hunters killed his wife for nothing.”
“You’re lying!” One of the men said.
John laughed. “Not really,” he said. “Little Sammy, there? He’s just a little baby. Can’t even hold his head up yet. He’s human. His brother? The one you were going to kill just in case? He’s also completely human. Just two little boys you Hunters thought were a danger. They certainly aren’t yet, but I think I can make them into a danger to all Hunters. But you know what, boys? I wouldn’t even be here tonight if it weren’t for you Hunters.”
“Demons lie!” the other said.
“Not when the truth hurts more,” John said. He chuckled, low and intense, and that made the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. His dad didn’t sound like that. “I think killing one of you should make a point. Those boys- they’re off limits.”
John flicked his hand and the leader’s neck twisted. John allowed him to fall, before turning his attention to the last of the men. “You are really a fool,” he said. “But you’re young, and I bet that you haven’t been Hunting long. You’re going to go to prison, now, and you’ll probably get out in…” he shrugged. “Well, before you’re ninety, at least,” he finished. “I suggest you stay away from Hunting and Hunters. It’s because of them that you went after an innocent little baby. He flicked his hand again, but this time, the man’s head just bounced off the wall, and John allowed him to crumple to the ground unconscious.
John turned to look at the crib. “Dean, it’s alright. You’re safe now,” he said. He reached in and began to check both boys out. Sammy screamed when John pressed gently on the baby’s ribs, and John pulled back.
“Broken ribs,” he said quietly. “What about you, Dean?”
“My shoulder hurts,” Dean said warily. This wasn’t his dad. “Who are you?”
John chuckled. “Smart kid,” he said. “I’m glad I got to see that. Don’t worry, I’m here to help.”
“You hurt those men.”
“They were going to hurt your brother,” John said.
Dean stared at him. “Why are your eyes yellow?”
John blinked and his eyes were normal again. Dean stared at him. “Dean, I need you to keep quiet about that,” he said. “The police are coming.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Just say that your mother and father managed to stop these men, but not before they hurt your mother,” John said. He knelt down and gathered Mary in his arms. “Oh, Mary, your husband would be weeping right now,” he said softly as he bowed his head. “He is weeping, though he can’t show it. I’ll give you the honor that he can’t right now. He’ll be able to, tomorrow.”
The police entered the room then. Dean shrank back, pulling Sammy, who was still whimpering, back with him. But the ordeal was over- or perhaps it was just beginning.
July 1, 1983
John Winchester looked up at the knock to the door of the hotel room he was staying in with his two sons. He hadn’t been able to stay in the house where his wife had been killed, and he’d had to get away from the media frenzy that had begun. At least he’d managed to keep his son’s names away from the press. He was just glad the press hadn’t gone looking for the names, or if they had, they’d respected the fact that the boys were minors.
John looked out of the peephole. An unfamiliar, middle-aged man stood there. John opened the door, but kept the chain up. The man smiled. “Howdy, John,” he said. “I told you I’d come see you, once things were a little more settled.” His eyes flared yellow for just a moment.
John froze for an instant, and then fumbled with the chain. “Yes,” he said shakily. “You… thank you. You saved my boys,” he said.
The man smiled. “I did,” he said. He stepped in to the room and glanced around. Dean and Sammy were both asleep in the crib the hotel had provided. The man frowned as he saw the cast on Dean’s shoulder and the way Sammy’s ribs were bound. “Are they going to be alright?”
“Sammy has two broken ribs and Dean’s left shoulder was cracked, but they’re both alive,” John said.
The man brushed Dean’s hair back and the little boy sighed and curled around his brother as the man ran his hand over the baby’s head. “They’ll be fine, then,” he said.
John nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “But I don’t know…”
The man smiled. “First off, my name is Azazel, John. I’m afraid I have a lot to tell you, and you’re probably not going to like most of it.”
John sighed. “The men who killed Mary…” he paused and changed tactics. “The survivor is claiming that Sammy’s going to end the world. He’s yelling that I’m a demon and Dean’s in danger. No one is taking him seriously, thank God, but it’s hard to deal with.”
“Well, you’re not a demon, Dean isn’t in any danger from you, and little Sammy is only going to end the world if he wants to. And even then, things are a bit more complicated then that,” Azazel said, amused.
“But you’re a demon,” John said. “And you possessed me that night, didn’t you?”
Azazel chuckled. “I see that your boy gets his intelligence from more then just his mother. Yes, I am, and yes I did. I let you stay awake for it so you would know what was going on, what happened to the Hunters.”
John sighed. “God,” he muttered.
“Oh, he’s around somewhere,” Azazel said. “Probably none too pleased with the Hunters, but he’s around.”
John sat down on the bed hard. “So, demons exist, so does God. What about angels? Satan?”
Azazel laughed. “Angels exist. I was the son of an angel and a human woman. Satan much prefers Lucifer- he’s my father, before you ask.” The demon sat down next to John.
John laughed hollowly. “Of course,” he said.
Azazel sighed. “This might be a mistake,” he said quietly. “But I believe that you can understand what I’m about to tell you.”
John took a deep breath. Panic later, marine! He told himself. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll listen.”
Azazel sighed and brought his hands together. “Your boys have potential,” he said. “They’re both very special, and like it or not, they’re going to be involved in the coming events. Now, if the Hunters hadn’t attacked you, I suspect they would have become Hunters themselves.”
“What? They would have become people willing to attack infants?” John said.
“No,” Azazel said. “Not all Hunters are the same, John. There are those who would have been appalled to hear of this attack- those who are appalled. Your sons, I think, would have been excellent Hunters. And they probably would have been a big problem for me as they got older.”
“Why are you telling me this?” John asked. “I mean, I’m no expert, but demons always want things from humans, in the stories, anyway.”
Azazel nodded. “Yes, we do,” he said. “I see you’ve been looking for answers.”
John shrugged. “When I can,” he said. “I haven’t found much that I believe, though.”
Azazel sighed. “To answer the question you’re not asking, yes, I do want something from you.” He paused, as if trying to decide how to say something. “I am searching for children, special children,” he started.
John looked at him sharply. “You just said my sons were special,” he said.
Azazel nodded. “Very good, John,” he said. “Yes, they are.” He leaned back. “I admit, Sammy meets my needs rather more then Dean, simply because he is a newborn, but they both have that… spark, that sense to them.” He studied John. “You do as well, and so did Mary,” he said frankly. “I’m not surprised to see they both have it so strongly.”
John closed his eyes. “Your needs?” he rumbled, once he opened his eyes and stared at Azazel.
The demon laughed. “Relax, John, I’m not here to take Sammy. I just… Sammy could be very powerful one day.”
John looked away. “Then why are you telling me all this?” he asked. “I doubt it’s out of the goodness of your heart.”
Azazel laughed, throwing his head back in what looked like genuine delight. “Oh, no, nothing like that. You see, I’d like to return here, or wherever you’re staying, if you’re not back in your home by then, on the night Sammy turns six months old. There is a ritual that I’ve performed before on likely children. It’s best done on the night they turn six months old. But I need their parent’s permission.”
“And parents just give you their permission?”
Azazel shook his head. “Of course not, John!” he said. “I make deals with young adults, ones that will probably have children that have potential. I give them something they want and, ten years later, I return and perform the ritual on the infants.”
John narrowed his eyes. “Sammy won’t be an infant in ten years.”
“But I did save him already, without making a deal with you,” Azazel pointed out. “Anyway, ten years ago, I made a deal with Mary.”
“What?” John asked.
Azazel nodded. “Do you remember the night her parents died?”
John frowned. That night was rather fuzzy, but he essentially remembered it. “Pretty much, yes,” he said.
“I bet it’s pretty hard to remember, though,” he said. “You see, John, you died that night too.”
“What?”
“Mary had just lost everything. Her parents, you, her hopes for the future. I offered to bring you back in exchange for a favor in ten years.”
John didn’t say anything for a long time. “I died?” he finally asked.
“You were only gone for a couple of minutes, at the most,” Azazel offered. “You can think of it as if you received a supernatural version of CPR.”
John buried his head in his hands. He would not fall apart in front of the demon. After a long time just sitting there, he looked up. Azazel was over by the crib again, staring down at the boys.
“Why are you telling me this?” John asked.
Azazel looked over at him. “Mary gave me her permission- implicit though it was. But that permission was revoked with her death. I need yours.”
John took a deep breath. “What do you do?”
Azazel frowned at him. “Is that important?”
“Before I give you permission, I want to know what you want to do to my son.”
Azazel sighed. “John, I said Sammy had potential,” he said. “What I want to do is something that will, once he grows up, help that potential become a reality.”
John was not stupid; he knew when he was being given the run around, even by a demon. He forced down all fear, astonishment, worry, and everything else that would keep him from protecting his son. “What do you do?”
Azazel sighed again. “Stubborn,” he muttered. “Is this really necessary, John?”
“Yes,” John said. “We are talking about my son.”
Azazel shook his head and chuckled briefly. “You, my friend, are dangerous. I think it’s a good thing you didn’t become a Hunter.”
John stared at him.
“It’s very simple. Most humans need some sort of event to realize their potential, be it regular, normal potential, or the type of potential that your sons have. In the case of supernatural potential, that event is often traumatic. What I do is provide a trigger.” He frowned. “I feed the child a few drops of my blood, in effect adopting them and gifting them with a measure of power to awaken their own.”
John stared at him. “You…”
“Yes, John, you heard me correctly.”
John shuddered. “What does it do to the children?” He glared at the demon. “Tell me everything. I’m not going to let anyone do anything to my son that might hurt him.”
Azazel held up his hands. “It won’t hurt him, John, I promise.” He shook his head. “Hunters would say that it damns him, however. But then, Hunters tried to kill both your sons for some reason.”
“Why did they do that?” John asked, allowing himself to be sidetracked for a moment.
“I don’t know, but I will find out,” Azazel promised. “I’m curious, since there’s no reason your family should have been targeted. Anyway, it will awaken his power, but only when he’s an adult and ready for it- twenty one or twenty two. Beyond that, might make him a little more prone to anger then he’d normally be, but it shouldn’t do much more then that if he doesn’t want it to.”
“And if he does?” John rumbled. He studied the demon. Azazel seemed to be telling the truth, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
Azazel shrugged. “It might do nothing. If he wanted it to, it might lead him to find a way to become a demon himself- or at least, partially a demon. No one can become a full demon without going to Hell.”
John nodded slowly. “Any other drawbacks?”
Azazel shook his head. “If he’s found out, he’ll be Hunted, but that’s already happening. Depending on his powers, this may help protect him.”
John nodded slowly. “What about Dean?” he asked.
Azazel looked over at the crib, startled. “Dean?” he asked.
“You did say he had potential as well. And those men were going to kill him, just because he got in the way.”
Azazel smirked slightly. “Yes and just based on what I’ve seen, Dean is going to continue to “get in the way” of anyone who comes after Sammy.”
John nodded, a slight smile curling his lips.
“But I’m not sure it’d be a good idea,” Azazel said. “Dean’s potential is… very different. If I hadn’t taken a good look at him last week, I might have missed it. Besides which, he’s older. I’ve never given this gift to a child above the age of one. But I could do it.” Azazel smirked. “I would have done it, if he was younger or the ten years were up earlier.”
John nodded once. He stared at the crib his sons slept in. They had had to sedate Dean to prevent him from panicking at the hospital when they’d separated the boys to be checked out. Sammy had screamed during the entire time, until Dean had been brought in. “They’re already so close,” he whispered.
“They shared a very traumatic experience, even if Sammy never remembers it.”
John looked over at Azazel. “If you do this, it’ll protect them?”
“It will help,” Azazel said. “There’s no guarantee, I’m afraid.”
John closed his eyes. “I’ll let you do it,” he said. “To both of them.”
Azazel smiled.
November 2, 1983
Sammy and Dean had both settled down to sleep easily enough, but John had been too nervous to even think about going to bed.
He sat down only to jump back up a second later and start pacing. Sammy was six months old today. Azazel should be coming back tonight sometime.
The doorbell rang. John jumped, startled nearly out of his wits.
He laughed at himself and headed for the door. “Howdy, John,” the man on the doorstop said as he opened it.
John frowned at him until his eyes flashed yellow. “You look different,” he said as he let the demon in.
Azazel nodded. “I’m a demon, John. My previous host was wanted by the police for several murders. I had to leave him eventually. This one is simply an ordinary, lonely man. I’ll return him to his home with no memory of tonight.”
“Do you have to change… hosts… often?” John asked. He’d spent a lot of time researching demons, but most of what he’d found was odd, and probably written by Hunters.
“No, but I prefer not to take them for too long. I’m more powerful then other demons and most humans have trouble containing me for long periods of time,” Azazel said. “I think you’d have no troubles, but like I said, you have that spark.”
He looked around. “Are the boys asleep?”
John sighed. “They’re in bed. Dean’s been having a lot of nightmares lately, so he may be awake. And Sammy…” John shook his head. “It’s almost as if he knows something is going to happen.”
Azazel smiled. “That wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. He nodded decisively. “Sammy first, I think,” he said.
John tensed up. “Right,” he stammered. He couldn’t believe that he was actually doing this. Still, he turned and led the demon up the stairs.
Azazel shook his head at him. “Relax, John, this won’t hurt your children. I’ll be surprised if they wake up.”
John took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just…”
Azazel chuckled as he entered the nursery. “There’s a reason I tend to do this without explaining things to the parents first,” he said quietly.
John leaned over the crib. Sammy was awake, and he babbled up at his father. “He’s awake,” John said.
Azazel leaned over, a small knife in his left hand. “Well, that will make this a little simpler,” he said. “Hey there, Sammy,” he said quietly as he cut his wrist.
John watched, eyes wide, as three or four drops of blood dripped down to land on Sammy’s parted lips.
Sammy had gone quiet and was staring up at Azazel.
The demon nodded as the last drop hit Sammy’s mouth and ran his hand over his wrist.
John leaned down to check on Sammy, who grinned and started to babble at John again.
“He’ll be fine,” Azazel said. “And unless you tell him, he’ll never know it happened.” The demon reached down and traced Sammy’s face. “He’s got such potential,” he said.
Sammy reached up and grabbed the demon’s finger. The demon laughed. “Now, I should probably go see Dean,” he said. “This will be interesting.”
He hesitated out in the hall, however. “Which room is Dean’s?” he asked.
For some reason, that made John smile, but he pointed out Dean’s door without saying anything.
Azazel entered Dean’s room silently. The four year old was fast asleep, but his lips were parted as he snored quietly.
Azazel didn’t say anything as he cut his wrist again and allowed the blood to fall into Dean’s mouth.
John watched from the doorway. He could only hope that this was the right thing to do. The demon healed his wrist and ruffled Dean’s hair gently. The little boy rolled into the touch, still asleep.
Azazel smiled down at Dean, then left his room and gestured down the stairs.
John headed for the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of whisky that he’d bought just for tonight. “Would you like some?” he asked.
“Certainly,” Azazel said.
John set the bottle down and pulled out two glasses. Azazel studied the bottle before smiling. “You have good taste, John,” he said.
John poured them both generous measures of the whisky. “I bought it for tonight,” John admitted. “Though I wasn’t sure if I was going to drink it if you did or didn’t show up.” He tossed back his shot. “So, it’s done,” he said after a moment. “What next?”
Azazel downed his shot and grinned. “Excellent,” he said. “You raise your sons,” he said. “You don’t have to tell them about tonight. In fact, you probably shouldn’t tell them. Sammy might think that what happened to his mother was his fault. It wasn’t, by the way. That was purely the Hunters.”
“What about Hunters?” John asked. “I’ve been doing a bit of research, and there are a lot of them around.”
Azazel nodded. “Yes, there are, but I’m keeping my eye on them. If they decide to come after Sammy again, I’ll warn you. Luckily, none of them seem to know why your attackers came after you in the first place.” He snorted. “I’m still trying to figure that one out too, actually.”
John nodded and poured two more shots.
Azazel savored this one, and John copied him. “John, before I go, I wanted to talk to you about Mary,” he said.
“What about her?” John asked. “She made a deal with you, didn’t she?”
Azazel nodded. “There’s a bit more to it,” he said. “She was a Hunter, once.”
John froze. “What?” he croaked.
“She wanted out of that life. That’s part of why she made a deal, you know. Because she wanted to get away from her Hunting roots.”
John sat back. “I never…”
“No,” Azazel said. “She wouldn’t have told you, because there was no reason for you to know. She never planned to need the information again. She couldn’t have known that Hunters would attack you. Hunters leave, sometimes. This is the first time that I know of where a former Hunter was attacked by other Hunters. There’s no reason…” he shook his head. “I wonder if that’s a reason they attacked, because she was a former Hunter.”
They sat in silence for a long time.
“I need to go,” the demon said eventually.
John nodded. “Good luck,” he said. “With… whatever you’re doing.”
Azazel grinned. “You’re a brave and interesting man, John Winchester,” he said. “Raise the boys well.”
June 22, 1985
John laughed, his deep chuckles a counterpoint to Sammy and Dean’s high pitched giggles.
John was mowing his lawn. Dean was helping by pushing the mower and Sammy sat on the driveway, watching them both.
Azazel sighed as he watched. It had been a year and a half since he had gifted the Winchester boys, and he was grateful to see that they all seemed to be recovering from Mary’s loss. He’d kept a closer eye on them then on the rest of his chosen children, just because Hunters had already recognized them as a threat.
He hated to take this normalcy away from Dean and Sammy so soon. It would have been useful if they had remained away from everything, so that when they learned what they had, they’d be in awe.
His current host was a teenaged boy who had run away from home about two months ago. He didn’t look too out of place around the neighborhood, thankfully.
John noticed him watching and eyed him for just a moment. Azazel sighed and crossed the street. John really was very perceptive for a human.
John stopped the lawnmower right next to Azazel. “Any particular reason you’re watching us?” he asked.
Dean looked up at Azazel with narrowed eyes. Sammy stood up and toddled over to them, staring at Azazel. “Yellow!” he declared.
Azazel looked down at Sammy in astonishment. “I… what?”
“Yellow!” Sammy said more forcefully.
Dean tilted his head, frowning.
John glanced down at Sammy, then at Azazel. “Azazel?” he asked cautiously.
The demon nodded, still staring at Sammy. “Amazing,” he murmured.
“What is it?” John asked. “Did Sammy…?”
“I believe he just might have,” Azazel said.
Dean leaned forward and tugged on John’s shirt. “Daddy? Who’s that?”
John looked down. “He’s a friend, Dean,” he said. “Though I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Azazel nodded down at Dean. “Hello, Dean. I haven’t seen you in a couple of years now. You’ve certainly grown.”
The boy stared at him solemnly. “You’re different,” he said bluntly.
John sighed. “Dean, be nice,” he chided gently.
“No, John, Dean’s right,” Azazel said. The demon sighed. “I have bad news. I found out why the Hunters attacked you two years ago. Worse, some of the other Hunters found out why. They’re coming here, John.”
John took a step back. Azazel watched him carefully. “How long?”
Azazel sighed. “Two days, at the most. You need to take your sons and go.”
John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Right,” he said as he opened them. “Dean, get Sammy into the house. I’ll put the lawn mower away, and then we’ll get read to go on a trip.”
Azazel watched as John did as he said. “Do you want to come in?” John asked.
Azazel shook his head, but handed John a slip of paper. “Go here. It’s a safe house my family maintains. They’ll know you’re coming, and you’ll be safe there for a while.”
John glanced at the paper before shoving it in his pocket. “Thank you,” he said.
Azazel nodded. “Oh, and wear this,” he said, handing John a small charm necklace. “It shows that you’re under my protection. The boys are fine, but you’ll need it.”
John looked at it strangely but put it on.
Azazel just nodded at him and walked down the street. As soon as he was out of John’s sight, he found a deserted alley and left his host. The boy would be fine in a few hours, if confused why he was in Kansas and not California.
Azazel went back to the Winchester house and watched, invisible, until he saw that John was taking his warning seriously.
Azazel left, thinking about the prophesy he’d learned. The one that he knew didn’t actually have any power, but clearly the Hunters had believed it, and if they kept it up, they’d make it come true. Not that Azazel minded if that happened, he just didn’t like the idea of losing Sammy Winchester before he could really use him.
June 25, 1985
John stared up at the large house- a mansion, really- as he got out of the Impala. Automatically, he got Sammy out of his car seat as Dean jumped down next to him. “We’re here, Daddy?” Dean asked.
John nodded. “We’ll be staying here for a bit, Dean,” he said. “Come on Sammy,” he continued as he put the wiggling toddler down.
“Daddy, big house,” Sammy said.
“Yes, it is,” John said. “What do you think, bud?”
“Yellow man’s been here,” Sammy said. “An’ it won’t hurt us.”
John shook his head and turned back to close the doors of the car. He didn’t know how Sammy knew Azazel had yellow eyes.
The front door opened. John turned around slowly, carefully. He eyed the man and woman who stood on the porch. The woman- she looked to be in her early twenties, with dark hair and eyes- bounded down. “You’re John, I take it?” she said. “And this would be Sammy and Dean.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said. “You are?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Well, howdy, then. Call me Beth. I’m Azazel’s daughter. This is my brother.”
“Call me Tom,” the man said.
John blinked. “Azazel has children?” he managed. Then he sighed. “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know. Dean, no, stay with your brother,” he called as Dean began to wander over to the lawn.
“Daddy can’t Sammy and I explore?”
“We have to get everything out of the car first, son,” John said. “And then I want you two to take a nap. We’ll see after that.”
“No nap!” Sammy said. “I’m not tired!”
“Alright, buddy, but I want you to lay down for a bit,” John said.
Sammy frowned at John but nodded obediently.
Beth came around and grabbed a couple of the duffle bags out of the trunk of the Impala. “They’re cuter then I expected,” she said conversationally. “And how do you get a two year old to obey you like that?”
John sighed. “Lots of bribes,” he said with a smile.
Dean stared up at Beth. “Why are you all black inside?” he asked.
She blinked down at him before staring at John. John shrugged. “I just see an attractive woman. My sons are… different. It’s something Azazel did, I think.”
“It’s never worked so well,” Beth said. “Father has been trying for a while now, but nothing’s ever come of it. Maybe it’s because you’re not frightened by it?” she ended with a question.
John shrugged. “I don’t even understand it,” he protested.
Tom came around and grabbed the rest of the bags. “Maybe this time, it’ll work.”
John sighed. “What exactly is he trying to do?”
Beth shrugged. “He won’t tell us. But ten or fifteen years ago, he started trying harder. We don’t know why.”
John sighed. “Great, just great,” he muttered.
“Daddy, what are you talking about?” Dean asked.
John forced a smile. “Grown up stuff, sport. I’ll explain when you’re older.”
Dean frowned at him.
Beth smirked down at the two boys. “I like them,” she said.
November 2, 1991
“Dad, why are we moving again?” Dean asked.
John sighed. “Because we have to, Dean,” he said.
“Why?” Sam asked.
John turned to the eight year old. Sam was standing near the window, frowning. It looked like his sons were in agreement on this one. They didn’t want to leave.
“Sammy, we’re moving because we have to be safe.”
“Safe from what?” Dean demanded. “We move all the time and you never tell us why.”
Azazel, who was currently in the body of a matronly old woman (something that had made John laugh the first time he’d seen this host), chuckled. “There are people in this world who are dangerous,” Azazel said.
Sam favored Azazel with a completely unimpressed look. “I know that,” he said flatly. “I want to know who’s chasing us.”
John sighed. “Can it wait until we’re somewhere safe?” he asked. “I don’t want either of you hurt.”
Sam nodded. After a moment, Dean did too.
“Good. Get the rest of the stuff from the bathroom, and then head to the car. We leave in ten.”
Dean turned and headed for the bathroom while Sam went into the room he and Dean shared to grab the last small duffle.
As soon as he heard the front door close behind them and he knew they couldn’t hear, John closed his eyes and started to curse.
Azazel waited until John stopped before speaking. “I’m sorry, John,” the demon said.
“It’s not your fault,” John said. “It’s those damn Hunters again.”
The demon nodded. “I think you should head back to the safe house for a few months. It always takes them longer to find out after you head there.”
John sighed and nodded. “I want to get this group off our tails. It only took them three months to find us again this time.”
“Going to the safe house will help,” Azazel said. “It took them nearly three years to find you again after the last time you went there.”
John nodded. “If we’re not careful they’re both going to be held back a year,” he muttered.
Azazel didn’t say anything for a long moment as Sam passed though the room again. “I don’t understand why you insist on schooling.”
“Several reasons,” John said. “The biggest one is the fact that we blend in better if they’re in school. And, well, Mary would have insisted on it.”
“Ah,” Azazel said.
“I’m going to have to tell them about the blood,” John said. “And everything that happened when Mary was killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
John sighed. “I knew this day would come eventually. They’re both too smart and suspicious for me to put it off forever.”
November 7, 1991
John paced back and forth as his sons watched him. Beth, still in the same host, was also watching in amusement. There was no one else in the house with them right now.
John knew that the majority of the demons around weren’t quite sure what to think of him and his sons, and how they were protected by Azazel. Beth, at least, seemed to like the boys. The rest of them just tolerated them.
His sons knew a lot of things about demons and Azazel, but he’d never told them about Hunters and why demons protected them.
John sighed. Yeah, he had to do this, but he didn’t have to like it. Sammy was going to think that it was all his fault, he just knew.
“Dad?” Sam asked.
John realized that he was staring out the window, lost in thought. He turned back around and looked at Dean. “Dean, do you remember the night your Mom died?”
Dean frowned. “Yeah,” he said. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
John sighed. “Everything,” he said. “Alright, Sammy, first off, don’t do anything until I’m finished,” he said.
Sam frowned at John before nodding.
John took a deep breath and began to explain everything. It took nearly an hour before he was satisfied that they both understood what the Hunters were.
Sam was trying not to cry, John could see. “They attacked because of me?” he asked.
John shook his head. “No,” he said. “Never because of you. If they were better Hunters, they would have known that the book of prophesies they found was a fraud. No prophesy from that book has ever come true unless someone set out to prevent it from happening.”
“But they killed Mom because she was protecting me,” Sam protested.
“She was protecting both of you,” John said. “And they killed Mary because they were stupid and misguided. It is not your fault, Sammy, do you understand me?”
Sam nodded slowly, eyes wide. John wasn’t sure his son believed him.
March 21, 2001
Sam tore into his room at the mansion. He and his family had returned after they’d been found by Hunters yet again. Once they got there, he’d been told that several large envelopes had arrived for him. He stared at the small pile on his bed and started slowly sorting them out. He didn’t open them just yet. He shouldn’t be so nervous. If it was bad news, he wouldn’t have gotten large envelopes. Right?
Slowly, Sam opened the first envelope. Purposefully, he put off the one from his first choice college to last. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if he got in or not.
As he read the letters- most of them acceptance letters, though there were a few rejection notices, he grew more and more nervous. Finally, all that was left was the one to Stanford. Slowly, he opened it and pulled out the letter. He read it once, then again. “They’re giving me a full ride,” he whispered. He read it again.
“Hey, dude, mind telling me what’s going on?”
Sam jumped at Dean’s voice. His brother was staring at him from the door.
“I’ve been… planning,” Sam finally said. “I need- I can’t just rely on everyone to protect me, and I need to do something that no one would expect,” he said. “And… I want to do it, too.”
“Do what?” John asked as he came up behind Dean.
Sam deflated. “I’ve been applying to colleges,” he said.
Dean frowned. “But… that won’t matter, not in six or seven years.”
“I know!” Sam said. “But no one would think I’d do it, and I love school, and this way you’re not always Hunted, and you can have your own lives, and I can find out if I can live on my own, and I don’t…”
“Alright, kiddo, enough,” John said.
Sam took a deep breath. “I just wanted to do something on my own for once,” he said quietly. “So I could prove that I’m not just a burden.”
John sighed. “You’re not a burden, Sam,” he said. “You’re my son, and I’m supposed to take care of you.” He shook his head. “So, where did you apply? And who accepted you?”
Sam looked at the pile. “A lot of schools,” he said. “And most of them accepted me.”
He swallowed. “Stanford offered me a full ride.”
Dean grinned. “Go Sammy!” he yelled. “Are you going?”
Sam looked down. “I want to,” he said.
John closed his eyes. “You won’t be protected,” he said.
Sam nodded. “But no one would expect me to go to college,” he said. “After all- I’m supposed to be about 25 when I end the world, according to that bogus prophesy. Why would I go to college?”
John chucked. Tina- formerly Beth, but she was in a new body and using a new name- appeared behind him. “So, our own Boy King is going to college?” she asked.
Sam grimaced. “I hate that title,” he grumbled.
“Well, are you?” Tina asked.
Sam shrugged. “I want to,” he said.
John frowned. “I don’t like this, Sammy. You should have mentioned this beforehand.”
“I didn’t think it would matter,” Sam whispered. “I can’t believe they accepted me.” He held the Stanford letter close to his chest. “I can’t believe…”
Dean reached over and ruffled his brother’s hair. Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and pushed it away. “Stop that,” he said.
“Make me,” Dean said.
Sam stood up. He was already two inches taller then his brother, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t done growing. John moved between his sons before things could degenerate into a wrestling match. “Let me see the letter, Sammy,” he said.
Sam handed it over, along with the letter about his scholarship.
John read them slowly, smiling slowly. “You got into Stanford,” he finally said. “And got a full ride scholarship, too.”
Sam nodded. Tina grabbed the paper next and whistled. “That’s scary,” she said. “I mean, AC here is way too smart if he managed that.”
Sam scowled at the demon. “Whatever you say, she who can’t decide on a name.”
“Hey, I use my hosts’ names. Makes it easier,” she said. Tina grinned. “Come on, smarty pants. Azazel will want to know about this.”
Dean grinned and grabbed the letter. “I’m going to go tell him!” he shouted and ran out of the room, heading for the ritual room, where they could contact Azazel, still holding the letter.
“Hey! That’s mine. And I want to be the one to tell him!” Sam ran after him.
Present Day
Sam sighed and sat up. He had a lot to do today, and he was probably going to be tied up in explaining everything all day. Plus, everyone would want to talk to him.
It was going to be a long day.
Dean sat at the kitchen table, fiddling with his cereal and reading the newspaper. He and Sam had been at the mansion for three weeks now, and he was starting to get a bit bored.
Sam wasn’t recovering well from leaving Jess behind. Jess hadn’t called yet, not that Dean was aware of, anyway, but Azazel’s daughter, now going by Meg, had called to say that Jess was doing well enough.
Dean sighed. He needed to distract Sam from moping about the house. Dean frowned as he flipped through the paper. He and Sam were mostly just staying here in an attempt to get off the Hunter’s radar. No Hunter had ever found this house, after all, and it had always been a safe refuge when they were kids.
Sam wandered in, talking on his cell phone. “No, we haven’t heard from Azazel either. Or Dad for that matter,” he added.
Dean looked up. Sam glanced at him and mouthed “Meg”.
Dean nodded. He listened to Sam’s side of the conversation with half an ear. He gathered that Meg didn’t have any news for Sam, but maybe Sam was getting some information Dean wasn’t.
Dean frowned as he read about several disappearances in Lost Creek, Colorado.
Sam sat down across from him as he ended the call. “What is it?” Sam asked.
“Maybe a Wendigo,” Dean said. “But I’d be surprised to see one in Colorado.”
Sam frowned. “Maybe it migrated.”
Dean snorted. “Well, if it is a Wendigo, then it’s probably back in hibernation by now,” he said. “Too bad. Guess no Hunter’s are going to get to it.”
Sam shrugged.
Dean sighed. “Not much else is going on,” he said, waving his hands at the stack of newspapers. “Some of the Hunters have been chasing the demons Azazel sent out.”
Sam nodded and leaned forward. “What about the other chosen?”
Dean blinked. “You know, I have been giving them much thought. Yeah, they’re probably experiencing their powers for the first time, just like you.”
Sam nodded. “What about you?”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I mean, I know I’m technically one of the chosen, but I was a little older when it happened. I might not show any signs.”
Sam sighed. “I was just hoping one of us would do better then prophetic dreams.”
Dean smirked. “Not very flashy, is it?”
Sam scowled.
Dean nodded. “You’ll get something else eventually. And sooner rather then later. Just don’t fight it.”
“I know, Dean. I had that talk with Azazel when I was fourteen.”
“Better that talk then the one we had with Dad,” Dean countered. They both shuddered.
“Anyway,” Sam said, apparently determined to drag this conversation back on track. “If I’m getting those dreams, then what else is going on?”
Dean nodded. “We probably should take a look at the other chosen,” he said. “I mean, they aren’t the favorites, but who knows?”
Sam looked up. “There’s, what, about fifty in this generation? And that’s only if they’ve all made it to adulthood.”
“Something like that,” Dean agreed. “Of course, we don’t know about all of them, but we can keep an eye on the ones we do know about.”
Sam actually smiled. “I’ll get started, look them up. You do know what this means, right?”
Dean grinned in response. “Road trip!” he announced gleefully. “Anyway, once you have a location on a few of them, we’ll head out.”
Sam nodded. “Sure. Some of them might not be in America, of course.”
“So let’s stick to the ones that are,” Dean said. “At least for now.”
Sam nodded. “I think… hmmm…” He got up and headed for where he’d left his laptop.
Dean smirked. At least Sam was distracted. His smirk faded as he looked down at the table. He had wondered why he wasn’t showing any powers, but he didn’t particularly care. Maybe his powers were more subtle. After all, prophetic dreams were a lot more subtle then telekinesis. Maybe he would get something similar. Or maybe the ritual just hadn’t worked on him- he was older when it had happened, like he’d said. Azazel hadn’t been all that sure if he’d show any powers when he’d talked with Dean about the matter.
Dean picked up his dishes and dropped them in the sink. He and Sam were probably going to be crossing the country a couple of times. It would be a good idea to make sure the Impala was ready to go.
Dean whistled as he headed for the garage. He’d have to keep Sam busy, but he was sure that would be easy enough to do. A road trip would do nicely. It would be a good idea for Sam to check out the competition.
Jess sat in the café, working on a paper. She couldn’t help but look across the table every few minutes. Normally, Sam would be right there, working on his own homework.
Their friends hadn’t really understood why he’d left, but they at least knew that he thought he was putting her in danger. She didn’t like it. She returned to her paper. She had to get it finished before the next class in two days.
“You know, I wasn’t going to say anything to you, but your bad mood isn’t helping me.”
Jess looked up, startled. The blond woman she’d seen around campus a few times in the past weeks had slid into the other side of the booth.
Jess scowled. “Who are you?” she asked snappishly. She didn’t want to socialize.
The woman smiled at her. “Call me Meg,” she said. “I think Sam told you I’d be here to make sure the Hunters don’t go after you again.”
“You’re Sam’s friend?” Jess asked. “You know what’s out there.”
Meg smiled wickedly. “I do,” she said. “Of course I do. I’m part of what’s out there, believe it or not.”
Jess blinked. “You’re a…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
The woman smiled at her, and her eyes filled with black. Jess’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “How do you do that?” she asked.
Meg blinked. When she opened her eyes again, they were normal.
“You want to know how I do that? You aren’t scared?”
“Well, of course I do,” Jess said. “I’m pre-med, and what you just did shouldn’t be biologically possible.”
Meg blinked in shock. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting,” she admitted.
Jess favored her with a flat stare. “What, did you expect me to scream? Please. It’s a nice trick, but you already said you’re here to keep me from getting hurt.”
Meg started chuckling. “I like you,” she said. “And of course it’s biologically impossible, but I’m a demon. We don’t have to follow the rules of biology.”
Jess glanced at her paper, then saved and shut down her computer. She could finish it later. “Can you tell me about demons?” she asked.
Meg smiled. “Why not?” she asked. “But not here. I know the perfect place.”
Jess looked around the nightclub. “Sam took me here all the time,” she said. “We never had to wait in line. I figured it was because he knew the bouncer.”
“He did,” Meg said. “Tom is my brother,” she said. “Our family runs the place, to give Sam a safe haven while he was in school.”
Jess frowned. “You mean…?”
“Sam despises willful blindness. At school, a lot of the professors in his courses had seen things that can’t be explained by scientific means, and they refused to believe that something else might have caused them. He needed somewhere to vent. Plus, this allowed us to make sure he remained safe.”
“From Hunters,” Jess said.
“Yes,” Meg replied. “Not that it did a lot of good,” she said.
“Why are they after him?”
Meg shrugged. “When he was a baby, some Hunters found a bogus prophesy that said a child would become a leader of a demonic army. And yes, that prophesy is bogus, before you ask. They decided that Sam matched the circumstances from that prophesy and that they would deal with him before it happened.”
“So that much is true,” Jess said.
“Of course it is,” Meg said. She led Jess through the empty club to a back room. “Before Sam met you, he spent a lot more time here, or at the previous club,” she said. “He was one of the few people to even know about the back room here.”
Jess snorted. “Figures,” she said.
Meg grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the mini-fridge. She handed one to Jess and sat down. “Come on, what questions do you have?”
“You’re a demon.” Jess said. “That means you’re a fallen angel, right?”
“No, actually,” Meg said. “Very few demons were once angels. Even Azazel, the demon I consider my father, was a nephilim- only half angel. I was human once, a long time ago.”
Jess frowned. “Azazel is the demon that’s helping Sam, right?”
Meg nodded.
“What do you mean, you consider him your father?”
Meg shrugged. “He’s not literally my father,” she said. “Like I said, I was human. I did something to anger God, and I was sent to Hell. I don’t remember what happened, it was too long ago. But Azazel taught me how to survive in Hell, how to thrive. So he’s the only father I remember, really. He’s already got plans for his next two children, beyond Tom and I,” she said.
Jess nodded. “Who?” she asked.
“Who else?” Meg asked. “Sam and Dean, of course. When they die, they’re probably going to go to Hell. So my father wants to be the one to guide them through becoming demons.”
Jess frowned. “I see,” she said. She didn’t, but she was going to try to understand. “What about Mr. Winchester?”
Meg smiled. “You mean John?” she asked. “I think there are a few others interested in him.”
“And me?” Jess asked.
Meg studied her. “You aren’t going to Hell,” she said. “Not yet, not certainly.”
“But I will if I still stay with Sam,” Jess said.
Meg frowned. “Yes, that’s likely,” she said. “But Sam left…”
“To keep me safe, the moron,” Jess hissed. “He had to know that…”
Meg started laughing. “No wonder Sam loves you!” she said.
Jess stopped, her rant derailed.
Meg smiled. “I think we should spend a lot of time together, girl. I like you.”
Part Three
June 21, 1983
“Come on, Sammy,” four year old Dean Winchester said.
Seven week old Sammy gurgled, and waved his hand around, but beyond that, the newborn didn’t do anything
Dean laughed anyway. Sammy gurgled again. Mary leaned over them both. “Come on, Dean. It’s time for you and Sammy to go to bed.”
“Ok, Mommy,” Dean said. “Can I help get him ready?”
Mary smiled. “Of course, and then we’ll get you ready.”
Dean “helped” his mother get Sammy ready for bed before getting ready for bed himself.
Mary tucked him into bed and returned downstairs. Dean waited a minute or two before sneaking out of his room, and down the hall into Sammy’s nursery. He did this every night, and he wasn’t going to miss a night. He had to watch Sammy go to sleep, and make sure the monster in the closet didn’t get his brother before Sammy was asleep.
He had to be a big brother to Sammy. He entered the room and screamed.
The three men who were gathered around Sammy’s crib whirled around.
“The other boy,” one of them snarled.
Dean, instinctively, knew that they were here to hurt Sammy. “Leave Sammy alone!” he shouted.
“Shut him up,” the one who was apparently the leader said.
The oldest of the men reached out to grab the four year old. “Poor kid. Older brother to the antichrist. We should probably put him out of his misery too.”
Dean ducked, just like he did when John tried to get him to take a bath. The man had managed to get a grip on Dean’s left shoulder, and pain bloomed even as he escaped. Dean ran between the legs of the man and clambered up the side of the crib, just as Mary appeared in the door way.
The men were distracted from the boys as John appeared beside her.
Dean folding himself around Sammy, who was crying now. Dean began to cry too. His shoulder hurt so much, and he was so scared.
Mary launched herself at the men with a wild yell. Dean watched, wide eyed, as John, again, followed her lead. The fight was brutal, but his parents were winning.
Dean just barely heard the front door crash open and more people run up the stairs.
John was ready to meet them, trusting Mary to handle the ones already in the nursery.
Dean whimpered as one of the two remaining men got behind Mary and grabbed her head. The loud crack echoed through the room.
The man turned to his companion. “Kill them,” he said, nodding at the crib. “Better kill the older boy, just to be safe, like Jeff suggested.”
Dean clutched Sammy to him, even though it hurt his shoulder, and Sammy screamed in pain. He wouldn’t let the other man hurt Sammy.
“Please,” the little boy whimpered. “Don’t hurt Sammy.”
The man hesitated. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said. “But…”
“You’re not going to touch them.”
Dean looked up. His father stood at the doorway. “Daddy!” Dean yelled.
John flicked his gaze to Dean for an instant. “Protect your brother, Dean,” he ordered, before turning his attention to the men still in the room. He saw Mary on the floor and sighed. “I see I was too late,” he said. Dean’s eyes widened as his Dad’s eyes turned yellow.
The men brought their guns up, but John just gestured, and they both hit the wall.
Dean gasped. His dad was a superhero! He had to be!
Sammy had quieted, and one hand grasped Dean’s finger. Both boys were wide eyed as they watched John deal with the attackers. “You are fools,” he said. “That baby there? He’s innocent. Completely human. He could have been a Hunter, you know. You attacked an innocent family. But now they have my attention, thanks to you, and yes, I think I can use him, and his older brother. Of course, I’ll need their father’s permission, but I think John will give it to me, especially after you Hunters killed his wife for nothing.”
“You’re lying!” One of the men said.
John laughed. “Not really,” he said. “Little Sammy, there? He’s just a little baby. Can’t even hold his head up yet. He’s human. His brother? The one you were going to kill just in case? He’s also completely human. Just two little boys you Hunters thought were a danger. They certainly aren’t yet, but I think I can make them into a danger to all Hunters. But you know what, boys? I wouldn’t even be here tonight if it weren’t for you Hunters.”
“Demons lie!” the other said.
“Not when the truth hurts more,” John said. He chuckled, low and intense, and that made the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. His dad didn’t sound like that. “I think killing one of you should make a point. Those boys- they’re off limits.”
John flicked his hand and the leader’s neck twisted. John allowed him to fall, before turning his attention to the last of the men. “You are really a fool,” he said. “But you’re young, and I bet that you haven’t been Hunting long. You’re going to go to prison, now, and you’ll probably get out in…” he shrugged. “Well, before you’re ninety, at least,” he finished. “I suggest you stay away from Hunting and Hunters. It’s because of them that you went after an innocent little baby. He flicked his hand again, but this time, the man’s head just bounced off the wall, and John allowed him to crumple to the ground unconscious.
John turned to look at the crib. “Dean, it’s alright. You’re safe now,” he said. He reached in and began to check both boys out. Sammy screamed when John pressed gently on the baby’s ribs, and John pulled back.
“Broken ribs,” he said quietly. “What about you, Dean?”
“My shoulder hurts,” Dean said warily. This wasn’t his dad. “Who are you?”
John chuckled. “Smart kid,” he said. “I’m glad I got to see that. Don’t worry, I’m here to help.”
“You hurt those men.”
“They were going to hurt your brother,” John said.
Dean stared at him. “Why are your eyes yellow?”
John blinked and his eyes were normal again. Dean stared at him. “Dean, I need you to keep quiet about that,” he said. “The police are coming.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Just say that your mother and father managed to stop these men, but not before they hurt your mother,” John said. He knelt down and gathered Mary in his arms. “Oh, Mary, your husband would be weeping right now,” he said softly as he bowed his head. “He is weeping, though he can’t show it. I’ll give you the honor that he can’t right now. He’ll be able to, tomorrow.”
The police entered the room then. Dean shrank back, pulling Sammy, who was still whimpering, back with him. But the ordeal was over- or perhaps it was just beginning.
July 1, 1983
John Winchester looked up at the knock to the door of the hotel room he was staying in with his two sons. He hadn’t been able to stay in the house where his wife had been killed, and he’d had to get away from the media frenzy that had begun. At least he’d managed to keep his son’s names away from the press. He was just glad the press hadn’t gone looking for the names, or if they had, they’d respected the fact that the boys were minors.
John looked out of the peephole. An unfamiliar, middle-aged man stood there. John opened the door, but kept the chain up. The man smiled. “Howdy, John,” he said. “I told you I’d come see you, once things were a little more settled.” His eyes flared yellow for just a moment.
John froze for an instant, and then fumbled with the chain. “Yes,” he said shakily. “You… thank you. You saved my boys,” he said.
The man smiled. “I did,” he said. He stepped in to the room and glanced around. Dean and Sammy were both asleep in the crib the hotel had provided. The man frowned as he saw the cast on Dean’s shoulder and the way Sammy’s ribs were bound. “Are they going to be alright?”
“Sammy has two broken ribs and Dean’s left shoulder was cracked, but they’re both alive,” John said.
The man brushed Dean’s hair back and the little boy sighed and curled around his brother as the man ran his hand over the baby’s head. “They’ll be fine, then,” he said.
John nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “But I don’t know…”
The man smiled. “First off, my name is Azazel, John. I’m afraid I have a lot to tell you, and you’re probably not going to like most of it.”
John sighed. “The men who killed Mary…” he paused and changed tactics. “The survivor is claiming that Sammy’s going to end the world. He’s yelling that I’m a demon and Dean’s in danger. No one is taking him seriously, thank God, but it’s hard to deal with.”
“Well, you’re not a demon, Dean isn’t in any danger from you, and little Sammy is only going to end the world if he wants to. And even then, things are a bit more complicated then that,” Azazel said, amused.
“But you’re a demon,” John said. “And you possessed me that night, didn’t you?”
Azazel chuckled. “I see that your boy gets his intelligence from more then just his mother. Yes, I am, and yes I did. I let you stay awake for it so you would know what was going on, what happened to the Hunters.”
John sighed. “God,” he muttered.
“Oh, he’s around somewhere,” Azazel said. “Probably none too pleased with the Hunters, but he’s around.”
John sat down on the bed hard. “So, demons exist, so does God. What about angels? Satan?”
Azazel laughed. “Angels exist. I was the son of an angel and a human woman. Satan much prefers Lucifer- he’s my father, before you ask.” The demon sat down next to John.
John laughed hollowly. “Of course,” he said.
Azazel sighed. “This might be a mistake,” he said quietly. “But I believe that you can understand what I’m about to tell you.”
John took a deep breath. Panic later, marine! He told himself. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll listen.”
Azazel sighed and brought his hands together. “Your boys have potential,” he said. “They’re both very special, and like it or not, they’re going to be involved in the coming events. Now, if the Hunters hadn’t attacked you, I suspect they would have become Hunters themselves.”
“What? They would have become people willing to attack infants?” John said.
“No,” Azazel said. “Not all Hunters are the same, John. There are those who would have been appalled to hear of this attack- those who are appalled. Your sons, I think, would have been excellent Hunters. And they probably would have been a big problem for me as they got older.”
“Why are you telling me this?” John asked. “I mean, I’m no expert, but demons always want things from humans, in the stories, anyway.”
Azazel nodded. “Yes, we do,” he said. “I see you’ve been looking for answers.”
John shrugged. “When I can,” he said. “I haven’t found much that I believe, though.”
Azazel sighed. “To answer the question you’re not asking, yes, I do want something from you.” He paused, as if trying to decide how to say something. “I am searching for children, special children,” he started.
John looked at him sharply. “You just said my sons were special,” he said.
Azazel nodded. “Very good, John,” he said. “Yes, they are.” He leaned back. “I admit, Sammy meets my needs rather more then Dean, simply because he is a newborn, but they both have that… spark, that sense to them.” He studied John. “You do as well, and so did Mary,” he said frankly. “I’m not surprised to see they both have it so strongly.”
John closed his eyes. “Your needs?” he rumbled, once he opened his eyes and stared at Azazel.
The demon laughed. “Relax, John, I’m not here to take Sammy. I just… Sammy could be very powerful one day.”
John looked away. “Then why are you telling me all this?” he asked. “I doubt it’s out of the goodness of your heart.”
Azazel laughed, throwing his head back in what looked like genuine delight. “Oh, no, nothing like that. You see, I’d like to return here, or wherever you’re staying, if you’re not back in your home by then, on the night Sammy turns six months old. There is a ritual that I’ve performed before on likely children. It’s best done on the night they turn six months old. But I need their parent’s permission.”
“And parents just give you their permission?”
Azazel shook his head. “Of course not, John!” he said. “I make deals with young adults, ones that will probably have children that have potential. I give them something they want and, ten years later, I return and perform the ritual on the infants.”
John narrowed his eyes. “Sammy won’t be an infant in ten years.”
“But I did save him already, without making a deal with you,” Azazel pointed out. “Anyway, ten years ago, I made a deal with Mary.”
“What?” John asked.
Azazel nodded. “Do you remember the night her parents died?”
John frowned. That night was rather fuzzy, but he essentially remembered it. “Pretty much, yes,” he said.
“I bet it’s pretty hard to remember, though,” he said. “You see, John, you died that night too.”
“What?”
“Mary had just lost everything. Her parents, you, her hopes for the future. I offered to bring you back in exchange for a favor in ten years.”
John didn’t say anything for a long time. “I died?” he finally asked.
“You were only gone for a couple of minutes, at the most,” Azazel offered. “You can think of it as if you received a supernatural version of CPR.”
John buried his head in his hands. He would not fall apart in front of the demon. After a long time just sitting there, he looked up. Azazel was over by the crib again, staring down at the boys.
“Why are you telling me this?” John asked.
Azazel looked over at him. “Mary gave me her permission- implicit though it was. But that permission was revoked with her death. I need yours.”
John took a deep breath. “What do you do?”
Azazel frowned at him. “Is that important?”
“Before I give you permission, I want to know what you want to do to my son.”
Azazel sighed. “John, I said Sammy had potential,” he said. “What I want to do is something that will, once he grows up, help that potential become a reality.”
John was not stupid; he knew when he was being given the run around, even by a demon. He forced down all fear, astonishment, worry, and everything else that would keep him from protecting his son. “What do you do?”
Azazel sighed again. “Stubborn,” he muttered. “Is this really necessary, John?”
“Yes,” John said. “We are talking about my son.”
Azazel shook his head and chuckled briefly. “You, my friend, are dangerous. I think it’s a good thing you didn’t become a Hunter.”
John stared at him.
“It’s very simple. Most humans need some sort of event to realize their potential, be it regular, normal potential, or the type of potential that your sons have. In the case of supernatural potential, that event is often traumatic. What I do is provide a trigger.” He frowned. “I feed the child a few drops of my blood, in effect adopting them and gifting them with a measure of power to awaken their own.”
John stared at him. “You…”
“Yes, John, you heard me correctly.”
John shuddered. “What does it do to the children?” He glared at the demon. “Tell me everything. I’m not going to let anyone do anything to my son that might hurt him.”
Azazel held up his hands. “It won’t hurt him, John, I promise.” He shook his head. “Hunters would say that it damns him, however. But then, Hunters tried to kill both your sons for some reason.”
“Why did they do that?” John asked, allowing himself to be sidetracked for a moment.
“I don’t know, but I will find out,” Azazel promised. “I’m curious, since there’s no reason your family should have been targeted. Anyway, it will awaken his power, but only when he’s an adult and ready for it- twenty one or twenty two. Beyond that, might make him a little more prone to anger then he’d normally be, but it shouldn’t do much more then that if he doesn’t want it to.”
“And if he does?” John rumbled. He studied the demon. Azazel seemed to be telling the truth, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
Azazel shrugged. “It might do nothing. If he wanted it to, it might lead him to find a way to become a demon himself- or at least, partially a demon. No one can become a full demon without going to Hell.”
John nodded slowly. “Any other drawbacks?”
Azazel shook his head. “If he’s found out, he’ll be Hunted, but that’s already happening. Depending on his powers, this may help protect him.”
John nodded slowly. “What about Dean?” he asked.
Azazel looked over at the crib, startled. “Dean?” he asked.
“You did say he had potential as well. And those men were going to kill him, just because he got in the way.”
Azazel smirked slightly. “Yes and just based on what I’ve seen, Dean is going to continue to “get in the way” of anyone who comes after Sammy.”
John nodded, a slight smile curling his lips.
“But I’m not sure it’d be a good idea,” Azazel said. “Dean’s potential is… very different. If I hadn’t taken a good look at him last week, I might have missed it. Besides which, he’s older. I’ve never given this gift to a child above the age of one. But I could do it.” Azazel smirked. “I would have done it, if he was younger or the ten years were up earlier.”
John nodded once. He stared at the crib his sons slept in. They had had to sedate Dean to prevent him from panicking at the hospital when they’d separated the boys to be checked out. Sammy had screamed during the entire time, until Dean had been brought in. “They’re already so close,” he whispered.
“They shared a very traumatic experience, even if Sammy never remembers it.”
John looked over at Azazel. “If you do this, it’ll protect them?”
“It will help,” Azazel said. “There’s no guarantee, I’m afraid.”
John closed his eyes. “I’ll let you do it,” he said. “To both of them.”
Azazel smiled.
November 2, 1983
Sammy and Dean had both settled down to sleep easily enough, but John had been too nervous to even think about going to bed.
He sat down only to jump back up a second later and start pacing. Sammy was six months old today. Azazel should be coming back tonight sometime.
The doorbell rang. John jumped, startled nearly out of his wits.
He laughed at himself and headed for the door. “Howdy, John,” the man on the doorstop said as he opened it.
John frowned at him until his eyes flashed yellow. “You look different,” he said as he let the demon in.
Azazel nodded. “I’m a demon, John. My previous host was wanted by the police for several murders. I had to leave him eventually. This one is simply an ordinary, lonely man. I’ll return him to his home with no memory of tonight.”
“Do you have to change… hosts… often?” John asked. He’d spent a lot of time researching demons, but most of what he’d found was odd, and probably written by Hunters.
“No, but I prefer not to take them for too long. I’m more powerful then other demons and most humans have trouble containing me for long periods of time,” Azazel said. “I think you’d have no troubles, but like I said, you have that spark.”
He looked around. “Are the boys asleep?”
John sighed. “They’re in bed. Dean’s been having a lot of nightmares lately, so he may be awake. And Sammy…” John shook his head. “It’s almost as if he knows something is going to happen.”
Azazel smiled. “That wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. He nodded decisively. “Sammy first, I think,” he said.
John tensed up. “Right,” he stammered. He couldn’t believe that he was actually doing this. Still, he turned and led the demon up the stairs.
Azazel shook his head at him. “Relax, John, this won’t hurt your children. I’ll be surprised if they wake up.”
John took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just…”
Azazel chuckled as he entered the nursery. “There’s a reason I tend to do this without explaining things to the parents first,” he said quietly.
John leaned over the crib. Sammy was awake, and he babbled up at his father. “He’s awake,” John said.
Azazel leaned over, a small knife in his left hand. “Well, that will make this a little simpler,” he said. “Hey there, Sammy,” he said quietly as he cut his wrist.
John watched, eyes wide, as three or four drops of blood dripped down to land on Sammy’s parted lips.
Sammy had gone quiet and was staring up at Azazel.
The demon nodded as the last drop hit Sammy’s mouth and ran his hand over his wrist.
John leaned down to check on Sammy, who grinned and started to babble at John again.
“He’ll be fine,” Azazel said. “And unless you tell him, he’ll never know it happened.” The demon reached down and traced Sammy’s face. “He’s got such potential,” he said.
Sammy reached up and grabbed the demon’s finger. The demon laughed. “Now, I should probably go see Dean,” he said. “This will be interesting.”
He hesitated out in the hall, however. “Which room is Dean’s?” he asked.
For some reason, that made John smile, but he pointed out Dean’s door without saying anything.
Azazel entered Dean’s room silently. The four year old was fast asleep, but his lips were parted as he snored quietly.
Azazel didn’t say anything as he cut his wrist again and allowed the blood to fall into Dean’s mouth.
John watched from the doorway. He could only hope that this was the right thing to do. The demon healed his wrist and ruffled Dean’s hair gently. The little boy rolled into the touch, still asleep.
Azazel smiled down at Dean, then left his room and gestured down the stairs.
John headed for the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of whisky that he’d bought just for tonight. “Would you like some?” he asked.
“Certainly,” Azazel said.
John set the bottle down and pulled out two glasses. Azazel studied the bottle before smiling. “You have good taste, John,” he said.
John poured them both generous measures of the whisky. “I bought it for tonight,” John admitted. “Though I wasn’t sure if I was going to drink it if you did or didn’t show up.” He tossed back his shot. “So, it’s done,” he said after a moment. “What next?”
Azazel downed his shot and grinned. “Excellent,” he said. “You raise your sons,” he said. “You don’t have to tell them about tonight. In fact, you probably shouldn’t tell them. Sammy might think that what happened to his mother was his fault. It wasn’t, by the way. That was purely the Hunters.”
“What about Hunters?” John asked. “I’ve been doing a bit of research, and there are a lot of them around.”
Azazel nodded. “Yes, there are, but I’m keeping my eye on them. If they decide to come after Sammy again, I’ll warn you. Luckily, none of them seem to know why your attackers came after you in the first place.” He snorted. “I’m still trying to figure that one out too, actually.”
John nodded and poured two more shots.
Azazel savored this one, and John copied him. “John, before I go, I wanted to talk to you about Mary,” he said.
“What about her?” John asked. “She made a deal with you, didn’t she?”
Azazel nodded. “There’s a bit more to it,” he said. “She was a Hunter, once.”
John froze. “What?” he croaked.
“She wanted out of that life. That’s part of why she made a deal, you know. Because she wanted to get away from her Hunting roots.”
John sat back. “I never…”
“No,” Azazel said. “She wouldn’t have told you, because there was no reason for you to know. She never planned to need the information again. She couldn’t have known that Hunters would attack you. Hunters leave, sometimes. This is the first time that I know of where a former Hunter was attacked by other Hunters. There’s no reason…” he shook his head. “I wonder if that’s a reason they attacked, because she was a former Hunter.”
They sat in silence for a long time.
“I need to go,” the demon said eventually.
John nodded. “Good luck,” he said. “With… whatever you’re doing.”
Azazel grinned. “You’re a brave and interesting man, John Winchester,” he said. “Raise the boys well.”
June 22, 1985
John laughed, his deep chuckles a counterpoint to Sammy and Dean’s high pitched giggles.
John was mowing his lawn. Dean was helping by pushing the mower and Sammy sat on the driveway, watching them both.
Azazel sighed as he watched. It had been a year and a half since he had gifted the Winchester boys, and he was grateful to see that they all seemed to be recovering from Mary’s loss. He’d kept a closer eye on them then on the rest of his chosen children, just because Hunters had already recognized them as a threat.
He hated to take this normalcy away from Dean and Sammy so soon. It would have been useful if they had remained away from everything, so that when they learned what they had, they’d be in awe.
His current host was a teenaged boy who had run away from home about two months ago. He didn’t look too out of place around the neighborhood, thankfully.
John noticed him watching and eyed him for just a moment. Azazel sighed and crossed the street. John really was very perceptive for a human.
John stopped the lawnmower right next to Azazel. “Any particular reason you’re watching us?” he asked.
Dean looked up at Azazel with narrowed eyes. Sammy stood up and toddled over to them, staring at Azazel. “Yellow!” he declared.
Azazel looked down at Sammy in astonishment. “I… what?”
“Yellow!” Sammy said more forcefully.
Dean tilted his head, frowning.
John glanced down at Sammy, then at Azazel. “Azazel?” he asked cautiously.
The demon nodded, still staring at Sammy. “Amazing,” he murmured.
“What is it?” John asked. “Did Sammy…?”
“I believe he just might have,” Azazel said.
Dean leaned forward and tugged on John’s shirt. “Daddy? Who’s that?”
John looked down. “He’s a friend, Dean,” he said. “Though I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Azazel nodded down at Dean. “Hello, Dean. I haven’t seen you in a couple of years now. You’ve certainly grown.”
The boy stared at him solemnly. “You’re different,” he said bluntly.
John sighed. “Dean, be nice,” he chided gently.
“No, John, Dean’s right,” Azazel said. The demon sighed. “I have bad news. I found out why the Hunters attacked you two years ago. Worse, some of the other Hunters found out why. They’re coming here, John.”
John took a step back. Azazel watched him carefully. “How long?”
Azazel sighed. “Two days, at the most. You need to take your sons and go.”
John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Right,” he said as he opened them. “Dean, get Sammy into the house. I’ll put the lawn mower away, and then we’ll get read to go on a trip.”
Azazel watched as John did as he said. “Do you want to come in?” John asked.
Azazel shook his head, but handed John a slip of paper. “Go here. It’s a safe house my family maintains. They’ll know you’re coming, and you’ll be safe there for a while.”
John glanced at the paper before shoving it in his pocket. “Thank you,” he said.
Azazel nodded. “Oh, and wear this,” he said, handing John a small charm necklace. “It shows that you’re under my protection. The boys are fine, but you’ll need it.”
John looked at it strangely but put it on.
Azazel just nodded at him and walked down the street. As soon as he was out of John’s sight, he found a deserted alley and left his host. The boy would be fine in a few hours, if confused why he was in Kansas and not California.
Azazel went back to the Winchester house and watched, invisible, until he saw that John was taking his warning seriously.
Azazel left, thinking about the prophesy he’d learned. The one that he knew didn’t actually have any power, but clearly the Hunters had believed it, and if they kept it up, they’d make it come true. Not that Azazel minded if that happened, he just didn’t like the idea of losing Sammy Winchester before he could really use him.
June 25, 1985
John stared up at the large house- a mansion, really- as he got out of the Impala. Automatically, he got Sammy out of his car seat as Dean jumped down next to him. “We’re here, Daddy?” Dean asked.
John nodded. “We’ll be staying here for a bit, Dean,” he said. “Come on Sammy,” he continued as he put the wiggling toddler down.
“Daddy, big house,” Sammy said.
“Yes, it is,” John said. “What do you think, bud?”
“Yellow man’s been here,” Sammy said. “An’ it won’t hurt us.”
John shook his head and turned back to close the doors of the car. He didn’t know how Sammy knew Azazel had yellow eyes.
The front door opened. John turned around slowly, carefully. He eyed the man and woman who stood on the porch. The woman- she looked to be in her early twenties, with dark hair and eyes- bounded down. “You’re John, I take it?” she said. “And this would be Sammy and Dean.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said. “You are?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Well, howdy, then. Call me Beth. I’m Azazel’s daughter. This is my brother.”
“Call me Tom,” the man said.
John blinked. “Azazel has children?” he managed. Then he sighed. “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know. Dean, no, stay with your brother,” he called as Dean began to wander over to the lawn.
“Daddy can’t Sammy and I explore?”
“We have to get everything out of the car first, son,” John said. “And then I want you two to take a nap. We’ll see after that.”
“No nap!” Sammy said. “I’m not tired!”
“Alright, buddy, but I want you to lay down for a bit,” John said.
Sammy frowned at John but nodded obediently.
Beth came around and grabbed a couple of the duffle bags out of the trunk of the Impala. “They’re cuter then I expected,” she said conversationally. “And how do you get a two year old to obey you like that?”
John sighed. “Lots of bribes,” he said with a smile.
Dean stared up at Beth. “Why are you all black inside?” he asked.
She blinked down at him before staring at John. John shrugged. “I just see an attractive woman. My sons are… different. It’s something Azazel did, I think.”
“It’s never worked so well,” Beth said. “Father has been trying for a while now, but nothing’s ever come of it. Maybe it’s because you’re not frightened by it?” she ended with a question.
John shrugged. “I don’t even understand it,” he protested.
Tom came around and grabbed the rest of the bags. “Maybe this time, it’ll work.”
John sighed. “What exactly is he trying to do?”
Beth shrugged. “He won’t tell us. But ten or fifteen years ago, he started trying harder. We don’t know why.”
John sighed. “Great, just great,” he muttered.
“Daddy, what are you talking about?” Dean asked.
John forced a smile. “Grown up stuff, sport. I’ll explain when you’re older.”
Dean frowned at him.
Beth smirked down at the two boys. “I like them,” she said.
November 2, 1991
“Dad, why are we moving again?” Dean asked.
John sighed. “Because we have to, Dean,” he said.
“Why?” Sam asked.
John turned to the eight year old. Sam was standing near the window, frowning. It looked like his sons were in agreement on this one. They didn’t want to leave.
“Sammy, we’re moving because we have to be safe.”
“Safe from what?” Dean demanded. “We move all the time and you never tell us why.”
Azazel, who was currently in the body of a matronly old woman (something that had made John laugh the first time he’d seen this host), chuckled. “There are people in this world who are dangerous,” Azazel said.
Sam favored Azazel with a completely unimpressed look. “I know that,” he said flatly. “I want to know who’s chasing us.”
John sighed. “Can it wait until we’re somewhere safe?” he asked. “I don’t want either of you hurt.”
Sam nodded. After a moment, Dean did too.
“Good. Get the rest of the stuff from the bathroom, and then head to the car. We leave in ten.”
Dean turned and headed for the bathroom while Sam went into the room he and Dean shared to grab the last small duffle.
As soon as he heard the front door close behind them and he knew they couldn’t hear, John closed his eyes and started to curse.
Azazel waited until John stopped before speaking. “I’m sorry, John,” the demon said.
“It’s not your fault,” John said. “It’s those damn Hunters again.”
The demon nodded. “I think you should head back to the safe house for a few months. It always takes them longer to find out after you head there.”
John sighed and nodded. “I want to get this group off our tails. It only took them three months to find us again this time.”
“Going to the safe house will help,” Azazel said. “It took them nearly three years to find you again after the last time you went there.”
John nodded. “If we’re not careful they’re both going to be held back a year,” he muttered.
Azazel didn’t say anything for a long moment as Sam passed though the room again. “I don’t understand why you insist on schooling.”
“Several reasons,” John said. “The biggest one is the fact that we blend in better if they’re in school. And, well, Mary would have insisted on it.”
“Ah,” Azazel said.
“I’m going to have to tell them about the blood,” John said. “And everything that happened when Mary was killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
John sighed. “I knew this day would come eventually. They’re both too smart and suspicious for me to put it off forever.”
November 7, 1991
John paced back and forth as his sons watched him. Beth, still in the same host, was also watching in amusement. There was no one else in the house with them right now.
John knew that the majority of the demons around weren’t quite sure what to think of him and his sons, and how they were protected by Azazel. Beth, at least, seemed to like the boys. The rest of them just tolerated them.
His sons knew a lot of things about demons and Azazel, but he’d never told them about Hunters and why demons protected them.
John sighed. Yeah, he had to do this, but he didn’t have to like it. Sammy was going to think that it was all his fault, he just knew.
“Dad?” Sam asked.
John realized that he was staring out the window, lost in thought. He turned back around and looked at Dean. “Dean, do you remember the night your Mom died?”
Dean frowned. “Yeah,” he said. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
John sighed. “Everything,” he said. “Alright, Sammy, first off, don’t do anything until I’m finished,” he said.
Sam frowned at John before nodding.
John took a deep breath and began to explain everything. It took nearly an hour before he was satisfied that they both understood what the Hunters were.
Sam was trying not to cry, John could see. “They attacked because of me?” he asked.
John shook his head. “No,” he said. “Never because of you. If they were better Hunters, they would have known that the book of prophesies they found was a fraud. No prophesy from that book has ever come true unless someone set out to prevent it from happening.”
“But they killed Mom because she was protecting me,” Sam protested.
“She was protecting both of you,” John said. “And they killed Mary because they were stupid and misguided. It is not your fault, Sammy, do you understand me?”
Sam nodded slowly, eyes wide. John wasn’t sure his son believed him.
March 21, 2001
Sam tore into his room at the mansion. He and his family had returned after they’d been found by Hunters yet again. Once they got there, he’d been told that several large envelopes had arrived for him. He stared at the small pile on his bed and started slowly sorting them out. He didn’t open them just yet. He shouldn’t be so nervous. If it was bad news, he wouldn’t have gotten large envelopes. Right?
Slowly, Sam opened the first envelope. Purposefully, he put off the one from his first choice college to last. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if he got in or not.
As he read the letters- most of them acceptance letters, though there were a few rejection notices, he grew more and more nervous. Finally, all that was left was the one to Stanford. Slowly, he opened it and pulled out the letter. He read it once, then again. “They’re giving me a full ride,” he whispered. He read it again.
“Hey, dude, mind telling me what’s going on?”
Sam jumped at Dean’s voice. His brother was staring at him from the door.
“I’ve been… planning,” Sam finally said. “I need- I can’t just rely on everyone to protect me, and I need to do something that no one would expect,” he said. “And… I want to do it, too.”
“Do what?” John asked as he came up behind Dean.
Sam deflated. “I’ve been applying to colleges,” he said.
Dean frowned. “But… that won’t matter, not in six or seven years.”
“I know!” Sam said. “But no one would think I’d do it, and I love school, and this way you’re not always Hunted, and you can have your own lives, and I can find out if I can live on my own, and I don’t…”
“Alright, kiddo, enough,” John said.
Sam took a deep breath. “I just wanted to do something on my own for once,” he said quietly. “So I could prove that I’m not just a burden.”
John sighed. “You’re not a burden, Sam,” he said. “You’re my son, and I’m supposed to take care of you.” He shook his head. “So, where did you apply? And who accepted you?”
Sam looked at the pile. “A lot of schools,” he said. “And most of them accepted me.”
He swallowed. “Stanford offered me a full ride.”
Dean grinned. “Go Sammy!” he yelled. “Are you going?”
Sam looked down. “I want to,” he said.
John closed his eyes. “You won’t be protected,” he said.
Sam nodded. “But no one would expect me to go to college,” he said. “After all- I’m supposed to be about 25 when I end the world, according to that bogus prophesy. Why would I go to college?”
John chucked. Tina- formerly Beth, but she was in a new body and using a new name- appeared behind him. “So, our own Boy King is going to college?” she asked.
Sam grimaced. “I hate that title,” he grumbled.
“Well, are you?” Tina asked.
Sam shrugged. “I want to,” he said.
John frowned. “I don’t like this, Sammy. You should have mentioned this beforehand.”
“I didn’t think it would matter,” Sam whispered. “I can’t believe they accepted me.” He held the Stanford letter close to his chest. “I can’t believe…”
Dean reached over and ruffled his brother’s hair. Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and pushed it away. “Stop that,” he said.
“Make me,” Dean said.
Sam stood up. He was already two inches taller then his brother, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t done growing. John moved between his sons before things could degenerate into a wrestling match. “Let me see the letter, Sammy,” he said.
Sam handed it over, along with the letter about his scholarship.
John read them slowly, smiling slowly. “You got into Stanford,” he finally said. “And got a full ride scholarship, too.”
Sam nodded. Tina grabbed the paper next and whistled. “That’s scary,” she said. “I mean, AC here is way too smart if he managed that.”
Sam scowled at the demon. “Whatever you say, she who can’t decide on a name.”
“Hey, I use my hosts’ names. Makes it easier,” she said. Tina grinned. “Come on, smarty pants. Azazel will want to know about this.”
Dean grinned and grabbed the letter. “I’m going to go tell him!” he shouted and ran out of the room, heading for the ritual room, where they could contact Azazel, still holding the letter.
“Hey! That’s mine. And I want to be the one to tell him!” Sam ran after him.
Present Day
Sam sighed and sat up. He had a lot to do today, and he was probably going to be tied up in explaining everything all day. Plus, everyone would want to talk to him.
It was going to be a long day.
Dean sat at the kitchen table, fiddling with his cereal and reading the newspaper. He and Sam had been at the mansion for three weeks now, and he was starting to get a bit bored.
Sam wasn’t recovering well from leaving Jess behind. Jess hadn’t called yet, not that Dean was aware of, anyway, but Azazel’s daughter, now going by Meg, had called to say that Jess was doing well enough.
Dean sighed. He needed to distract Sam from moping about the house. Dean frowned as he flipped through the paper. He and Sam were mostly just staying here in an attempt to get off the Hunter’s radar. No Hunter had ever found this house, after all, and it had always been a safe refuge when they were kids.
Sam wandered in, talking on his cell phone. “No, we haven’t heard from Azazel either. Or Dad for that matter,” he added.
Dean looked up. Sam glanced at him and mouthed “Meg”.
Dean nodded. He listened to Sam’s side of the conversation with half an ear. He gathered that Meg didn’t have any news for Sam, but maybe Sam was getting some information Dean wasn’t.
Dean frowned as he read about several disappearances in Lost Creek, Colorado.
Sam sat down across from him as he ended the call. “What is it?” Sam asked.
“Maybe a Wendigo,” Dean said. “But I’d be surprised to see one in Colorado.”
Sam frowned. “Maybe it migrated.”
Dean snorted. “Well, if it is a Wendigo, then it’s probably back in hibernation by now,” he said. “Too bad. Guess no Hunter’s are going to get to it.”
Sam shrugged.
Dean sighed. “Not much else is going on,” he said, waving his hands at the stack of newspapers. “Some of the Hunters have been chasing the demons Azazel sent out.”
Sam nodded and leaned forward. “What about the other chosen?”
Dean blinked. “You know, I have been giving them much thought. Yeah, they’re probably experiencing their powers for the first time, just like you.”
Sam nodded. “What about you?”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I mean, I know I’m technically one of the chosen, but I was a little older when it happened. I might not show any signs.”
Sam sighed. “I was just hoping one of us would do better then prophetic dreams.”
Dean smirked. “Not very flashy, is it?”
Sam scowled.
Dean nodded. “You’ll get something else eventually. And sooner rather then later. Just don’t fight it.”
“I know, Dean. I had that talk with Azazel when I was fourteen.”
“Better that talk then the one we had with Dad,” Dean countered. They both shuddered.
“Anyway,” Sam said, apparently determined to drag this conversation back on track. “If I’m getting those dreams, then what else is going on?”
Dean nodded. “We probably should take a look at the other chosen,” he said. “I mean, they aren’t the favorites, but who knows?”
Sam looked up. “There’s, what, about fifty in this generation? And that’s only if they’ve all made it to adulthood.”
“Something like that,” Dean agreed. “Of course, we don’t know about all of them, but we can keep an eye on the ones we do know about.”
Sam actually smiled. “I’ll get started, look them up. You do know what this means, right?”
Dean grinned in response. “Road trip!” he announced gleefully. “Anyway, once you have a location on a few of them, we’ll head out.”
Sam nodded. “Sure. Some of them might not be in America, of course.”
“So let’s stick to the ones that are,” Dean said. “At least for now.”
Sam nodded. “I think… hmmm…” He got up and headed for where he’d left his laptop.
Dean smirked. At least Sam was distracted. His smirk faded as he looked down at the table. He had wondered why he wasn’t showing any powers, but he didn’t particularly care. Maybe his powers were more subtle. After all, prophetic dreams were a lot more subtle then telekinesis. Maybe he would get something similar. Or maybe the ritual just hadn’t worked on him- he was older when it had happened, like he’d said. Azazel hadn’t been all that sure if he’d show any powers when he’d talked with Dean about the matter.
Dean picked up his dishes and dropped them in the sink. He and Sam were probably going to be crossing the country a couple of times. It would be a good idea to make sure the Impala was ready to go.
Dean whistled as he headed for the garage. He’d have to keep Sam busy, but he was sure that would be easy enough to do. A road trip would do nicely. It would be a good idea for Sam to check out the competition.
Jess sat in the café, working on a paper. She couldn’t help but look across the table every few minutes. Normally, Sam would be right there, working on his own homework.
Their friends hadn’t really understood why he’d left, but they at least knew that he thought he was putting her in danger. She didn’t like it. She returned to her paper. She had to get it finished before the next class in two days.
“You know, I wasn’t going to say anything to you, but your bad mood isn’t helping me.”
Jess looked up, startled. The blond woman she’d seen around campus a few times in the past weeks had slid into the other side of the booth.
Jess scowled. “Who are you?” she asked snappishly. She didn’t want to socialize.
The woman smiled at her. “Call me Meg,” she said. “I think Sam told you I’d be here to make sure the Hunters don’t go after you again.”
“You’re Sam’s friend?” Jess asked. “You know what’s out there.”
Meg smiled wickedly. “I do,” she said. “Of course I do. I’m part of what’s out there, believe it or not.”
Jess blinked. “You’re a…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
The woman smiled at her, and her eyes filled with black. Jess’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “How do you do that?” she asked.
Meg blinked. When she opened her eyes again, they were normal.
“You want to know how I do that? You aren’t scared?”
“Well, of course I do,” Jess said. “I’m pre-med, and what you just did shouldn’t be biologically possible.”
Meg blinked in shock. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting,” she admitted.
Jess favored her with a flat stare. “What, did you expect me to scream? Please. It’s a nice trick, but you already said you’re here to keep me from getting hurt.”
Meg started chuckling. “I like you,” she said. “And of course it’s biologically impossible, but I’m a demon. We don’t have to follow the rules of biology.”
Jess glanced at her paper, then saved and shut down her computer. She could finish it later. “Can you tell me about demons?” she asked.
Meg smiled. “Why not?” she asked. “But not here. I know the perfect place.”
Jess looked around the nightclub. “Sam took me here all the time,” she said. “We never had to wait in line. I figured it was because he knew the bouncer.”
“He did,” Meg said. “Tom is my brother,” she said. “Our family runs the place, to give Sam a safe haven while he was in school.”
Jess frowned. “You mean…?”
“Sam despises willful blindness. At school, a lot of the professors in his courses had seen things that can’t be explained by scientific means, and they refused to believe that something else might have caused them. He needed somewhere to vent. Plus, this allowed us to make sure he remained safe.”
“From Hunters,” Jess said.
“Yes,” Meg replied. “Not that it did a lot of good,” she said.
“Why are they after him?”
Meg shrugged. “When he was a baby, some Hunters found a bogus prophesy that said a child would become a leader of a demonic army. And yes, that prophesy is bogus, before you ask. They decided that Sam matched the circumstances from that prophesy and that they would deal with him before it happened.”
“So that much is true,” Jess said.
“Of course it is,” Meg said. She led Jess through the empty club to a back room. “Before Sam met you, he spent a lot more time here, or at the previous club,” she said. “He was one of the few people to even know about the back room here.”
Jess snorted. “Figures,” she said.
Meg grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the mini-fridge. She handed one to Jess and sat down. “Come on, what questions do you have?”
“You’re a demon.” Jess said. “That means you’re a fallen angel, right?”
“No, actually,” Meg said. “Very few demons were once angels. Even Azazel, the demon I consider my father, was a nephilim- only half angel. I was human once, a long time ago.”
Jess frowned. “Azazel is the demon that’s helping Sam, right?”
Meg nodded.
“What do you mean, you consider him your father?”
Meg shrugged. “He’s not literally my father,” she said. “Like I said, I was human. I did something to anger God, and I was sent to Hell. I don’t remember what happened, it was too long ago. But Azazel taught me how to survive in Hell, how to thrive. So he’s the only father I remember, really. He’s already got plans for his next two children, beyond Tom and I,” she said.
Jess nodded. “Who?” she asked.
“Who else?” Meg asked. “Sam and Dean, of course. When they die, they’re probably going to go to Hell. So my father wants to be the one to guide them through becoming demons.”
Jess frowned. “I see,” she said. She didn’t, but she was going to try to understand. “What about Mr. Winchester?”
Meg smiled. “You mean John?” she asked. “I think there are a few others interested in him.”
“And me?” Jess asked.
Meg studied her. “You aren’t going to Hell,” she said. “Not yet, not certainly.”
“But I will if I still stay with Sam,” Jess said.
Meg frowned. “Yes, that’s likely,” she said. “But Sam left…”
“To keep me safe, the moron,” Jess hissed. “He had to know that…”
Meg started laughing. “No wonder Sam loves you!” she said.
Jess stopped, her rant derailed.
Meg smiled. “I think we should spend a lot of time together, girl. I like you.”
Part Three