Unexpected Destinies Chapter 150
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 3,606
Summary: Dean's arrival at the Campbell family compound.
PRESENT
The irony that the thing making him pause now was the same thing which used to drive him so relentlessly wasn't lost on Dean and it only served to drive home once more just how much things had changed in the last year.
Family.
It had been the source of so much emotion over the years. Love, grief, hope, terror, comfort, panic, relief, anger, safety and, of course, unimaginable pain. For someone who'd always abhorred chick flick moments as much as he had, it was almost a surprise to Dean that he'd always clung to his family the way that he had.
Of course there were different definitions of family, Dean now understood. There was the one that he'd had before- his father and Sam- the kind of family which you didn't choose; the kind that just was, bound by blood. For the longest time that had been the only kind of family that he'd known. A child didn't think of the fact that this bond didn't exist between their parents after all and even when Bobby had slowly joined their family unit in his mind it hadn't altered anything as Dad had been the one to bring the other hunter in.
Over the past few months that had all changed though. It had taken far longer than it really should have, but eventually it had dawned on Dean that there was another kind of family. The family that you chose and made for yourself; the kind that wasn't just decided for you by fate or the decisions of your parents. It was the kind of family that he'd come to care about most and to which he now clung. Sure, Michael and Raphael or any of Castiel's countless other siblings and relations weren't something that he could choose, and there were definitely ones in there who he'd far rather not be related to even if just by bonding. The important connection, though- his husband- had been entirely his choice and that was what was important.
The realization that Castiel and he were a family in their own right, along with his two new friends, had been a revelation and one of which the awe still hadn't quite faded. Nor would whatever happened here over the course of the next week impact that family any.
That thought fortified Dean enough to shoulder his duffel and approach the house. The gravel crunched oddly beneath his feet and when he looked down he saw large chunks of rock salt mixed in with the small stones. The discovery made him smile and eased more of the tension. If this was the kind of work his mom's family did then he could definitely see them getting along with each other. Well, at least now that Christian was gone anyway. Though the guy had never been more than an annoying and obnoxious ass to his face, the mere fact that Bobby had been as glad as he was when Christian had left was more than enough for him as it told him all that he needed to know.
"Dean."
The voice made him look up and Dean smiled when he saw his grandfather standing in the now opened doorway. "Samuel."
"Please, call me grandpa or grandfather or any other variation thereof."
"Pops?" Dean tried to cover the sudden little frisson of unease that he felt.
"If that strikes your fancy," Samuel replied, pulling him close into a hug when he got within arm's reach of the man. "I'm glad that you're finally here."
"Uh, thanks."
Awkwardly, Dean returned the hug, pulling back as soon as he could politely do so. He couldn't quite remember the man being so touchy feely before, though, to be fair, Samuel hadn't known who he was the first time that they'd met. Hell, he'd be cautious about any new hunter who sudden turned up, especially if he had a daughter and the guy was spending time with her.
"Dean, there you are, I was beginning to think that you weren't going to show up," Bobby said as he stepped into the hall from a side room.
"What, and leave you guys hanging?" Dean asked.
"Well you never know what might have come up in Egypt or Azerbaijan."
"Azerba what?"
"Azerbaijan, it's a little country in Eurasia, formerly part of the Soviet Union."
"Nope, sorry, not been there yet."
"Yet he says," Samuel laughed, closing the front door. "Come on, Gulliver, I'll show you where to put your stuff."
"Not seen any tiny people yet either."
"I sense a but in there," Bobby commented, following them down the hall towards the staircase.
"Well there was this pixie infestation a few months back."
"Pixie?" Samuel demanded, turning to look at him in disbelief.
"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "And before you ask, no, I didn't actually see them as Michael smote them all before I could."
"Welcome to the Winchester world," Bobby told Samuel. "You still sure you want in?"
"It'll keep me from getting bored if nothing else," Samuel replied though Dean didn't fail to notice the quick glance his grandfather shot his way.
"So how's Sam doing?" Dean asked as they reached the second floor. "Is he ready for tonight?"
"Yes, he's sleeping just now as the last few spells took a lot out of him," Bobby stated. "But he's ready. He really wants Lucifer's all access backstage pass revoked so he can get out of the house."
"Yes, your brother has been going a bit stir crazy," Samuel added.
Dean couldn't help but snort at that. He'd seen his brother confined indoors before and it was never pretty. For all that Sam could spend hours in front of a computer screen or looking through a book, the moment that his little brother wasn't allowed out, Sam couldn't focus worth a damn. He strongly suspected that it had to do with his brother's innate inability to take being told what to do. The best way to ensure that Sam would do something was to tell him that he wasn't allowed to do it.
It didn't pass Dean by that they were leading him straight past several empty bedrooms for the one at the very end of the hall, well away from the ones that had clothes or unmade beds in them. Were they expecting him to have Castiel over at night or was this just an attempt to give him some space and privacy? His thoughts leaned towards the former option when they entered the room and he saw that it had a double bed.
"Here you go," Samuel said. "This should have everything you need and there's a bathroom you can use next door."
"It's great, thanks," Dean replied, dropping his duffel onto the bed. "So, where's the kitchen?"
Bobby laughed and looked at Samuel as they left the room. "If you thought that Sam ate a ton, wait until you see what Dean can pack away."
"Hey!"
"You can't be serious," Samuel replied.
"Oh, I am, it's a miracle that he isn't a lot heavier."
"Standing right here," Dean stated, scowling.
"What, are you really gonna try and claim that you don't enjoy eating?" Bobby questioned.
"I have a healthy appetite."
"That sounds like a justification to me," Samuel commented.
"If you wanna talk about obscene portions then you should have seen Sam's during his growth spurt. He went from below average to freak in no time flat."
"I remember that," Bobby chuckled. "The idjit couldn't take a step without stumbling over his own two feet."
"I wasn't quite that bad," a sleep roughed voice protested.
"Hello, Sam," Dean greeted, turning to face his brother where Sam stood in a doorway that had been closed before. "Sorry if we woke you."
Sam shrugged. "S'okay. I probably shouldn't sleep any longer if I want to get any tonight. Do you have everything that we need?"
"No, Mike and Raph are going to bring it all over tonight."
"Are you sure that they'll show?"
"Yes, Sam, of course I'm sure," Dean replied firmly, bristling slightly at the implication. "They're on our side and want this as much as we do."
His brother looked like he wanted to protest that statement, but Bobby must have made a gesture behind his back as Sam subsided ungracefully. Dean forced himself to let it go and instead followed his grandfather and Bobby back downstairs. He was given a brief tour of the rest of the compound and he made sure to ask about defenses and made a mental note to check both the armory and the library later though he knew that Bobby was already making his way through the latter.
"Hello, Dean," Gwen greeted when they got to the back porch to find her sitting there, sharpening a wide assortment of blades with a whetstone. "It's good to see you again."
"And you," Dean replied. "Nice machete."
"Thanks, it's my favorite. Bagged my first vampire with it."
The response made Dean smile and he thought that he could definitely get to like her if this was any indication of what she was like.
/
It took all of the control that Samuel had to keep his hands to himself and to remain where he was. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about having his oldest grandson nearby made him want to reach out and touch Dean. Almost as if he didn't quite believe that this was real and that the boy would vanish if he wasn't careful, like some ephemeral ghost in those cheesy movies that Deanna used to love so much before she learned the truth of what was really out there.
As it was, Samuel was able to restrain himself but only just and that mostly because he was pretty sure that he'd already partially weirded Mary's firstborn out earlier with his overly familiar behavior. The problem was that the boy looked so much like his mother and he kept seeing his precious Mary in him. More than once he'd found himself noticing something about Dean out of the corner of his eye that was so achingly like his daughter that it hurt and yet he couldn't help himself from looking for more. The way that Dean laughed was just like Mary's laugh and he couldn't help but wonder if watching his son grow up hadn't been the worst form of torture for John, always seeing his dead wife while also having the proof that she lived on in their sons.
Samuel knew that he really should be getting to the kitchen as it was his turn to make dinner, but he couldn't seem to pull himself away either. They'd all convened in the dining room to go over the notes that Dean had on the spell and he'd use that as his excuse if anyone asked why he hadn't gotten started yet. After all this was far more important than food and they still had enough bread left for sandwiches if it came to that.
"I don't get why we need hemlock in the potion to be administered on the fourth day," Gwen said, frowning at the page of notes she was studying. "Won't that kill Sam?"
"No, don't worry, I already asked the same question," Dean replied. "It's apparently necessary to help stabilize the Abramelin oil and the demon tears as they would normally form a very unstable concoction."
"Did you just say demon tears?" Bobby demanded.
"Yep. Michael looked far too gleeful at the thought of collecting that particular ingredient for it to be anything other than what it sounds like."
"Did you ask him how he intended to go about collecting them?" Gwen asked.
"Nope."
"Pity 'cause I'd really like to know that particular trick."
Dean laughed and Samuel found his eyes once again drawn back to the boy. Or not boy, really, but he couldn't help but think of both Dean and Sam in that way. To him they were boys; Mary's boys. He wondered what she would think of them if she could see them both now. He knew that she wouldn't be happy that John had raised them as hunters but given the circumstances he really didn't think that she could fault her husband all that much. John had been right in thinking that Azazel had further plans for Sam and would one day be back. If the man hadn't raised the boys as hunters then they'd have been sitting ducks and would probably both be dead now. Or worse.
The thought made Samuel shudder, thinking back on everything that the books had mentioned about the other children, what had happened to them and what that yellow eyed son of bitch had intended for his youngest grandson. He almost regretted the fact that Dean had killed Azazel as he really would have liked to have done it himself. He'd had his chance though and had failed and that was something that he'd have to live with, knowing that he could have stopped it all before Mary had ever been forced to make a deal to save her boyfriend's life.
"Well you can always ask him when he comes by later," Dean said, drawing Samuel's attention back to the others once more.
"That's an awful lot of hemlock, though," Sam stated. "You sure it won't just kill me?"
"Relax, the crushed bezoar will neutralize the toxic effects of the hemlock."
"Crushed bezoar?" Bobby repeated. "You mean that's real?"
"Are you really still surprised at anything having a basis in reality anymore? After everything that we've seen?" Dean questioned.
"What, you gonna tell me you believe in the tooth fairy now too?"
"Honestly? I wouldn't be astonished to learn that there's something in there. Some grain of truth."
"We can hardly believe what we do know at this point," Samuel pointed out. "So why not things that even us hunters used to think were nothing but pure myth or legend?"
The ringing of Dean's cell phone should have been the perfect excuse for Samuel to leave the room and get started on dinner, but he ignored that and focused on his grandson's notes while trying not think about whether Dean's handwriting was similar to Mary's or not.
"Hello," Dean greeted, not that Samuel was listening or anything. "Padre Mancini, come sta?"
Samuel's head jerked up to stare at his eldest grandson the moment that the foreign words registered. Was that Spanish? No, though his Spanish was rusty at best, he knew enough to know that while padre could definitely be Spanish, the rest wasn't. So what on Earth was it? He hadn't realized that Dean could speak another language. Turning to look at Sam, intending to ask his other grandson, he discovered that whatever language Dean was speaking, it was a newly acquired skill as the look of pure astonishment on Sam's face clearly said that the boy hadn't known that his brother could speak it. A quick glance at Bobby further confirmed his suspicions and he wondered when Dean had possibly found the time to learn a new language with everything else that the boy had been dealing with in the last year. Because know it Dean did as the words were rolling off his grandson's tongue far too quickly and fluently to signify anything other than extreme proficiency.
"Is that Italian?" Gwen asked in a whisper.
"It definitely sounds like it," Bobby said.
"Since when does Dean speak Italian?" Sam demanded.
Samuel raised an eyebrow. "If you don't know then how do you expect any of us to?"
Sam threw him an annoyed look and Samuel felt his shoulders stiffen. Unusual circumstances or not, he was still the boy's grandfather and deserved a certain level of respect.
"Non si preoccupi, mi prenderò cura di lui," Dean said, then paused before continuing. "Anche lei. Arrivederci, Padre Mancini."
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded the moment Dean closed his cell phone.
"Huh?" Dean questioned, turning back around to face them.
"Since when do you speak Italian?"
"Oh, uh, since Michael downloaded it into my brain."
"Since Michael-" Sam cut off, clearly too stunned to speak.
"They can do that?" Gwen inquired. "Download a language, just like that?"
"It's a little more complicated and painful than it sounds, but essentially, yes," Dean confirmed.
"Why didn't Cas ever mention this before?" Sam asked. "You know, like when we were going through tomes and tomes of archaic Latin lore?"
"I don't know, you'd have to ask him. Maybe he didn't think it was necessary."
"Forget about necessary, he had to have known that I'd love that!"
"Why did you need to know Italian?" Bobby asked.
It wasn't until the other hunter spoke, his voice far quieter, that Samuel realized just how much Sam had raised his voice. Dean's had escalated in response, probably an automatic reaction to having his... his lover criticized and he hadn't realized how loud they'd gotten until now. Despite the lack of volume, Bobby's question instantly captured his attention due its nature. Just why had Dean needed to know Italian anyway? It wasn't like Latin which any real hunter needed in order to survive these days, let alone excel and as far as global languages were concerned Italian was hardly even a blip on the radar. The fact that the question seemed to make Dean wince only served to intrigue him even more.
"Because it was the only language that everyone present at the Vatican that day knew well enough to be able to follow the conversation, so it was easier for me to learn Italian than for them to translate everything that Mike or I said," Dean replied.
Wait, did his grandson really just say what Samuel thought that Dean had said?
"Did you just say the Vatican?" Samuel demanded in stunned disbelief.
"Yeah."
"The Vatican? As in the head of the Roman Catholic Church?" Sam questioned, a hint of what sounded suspiciously like hysteria in his voice. "You went to the Vatican?"
"More than once actually," Dean replied.
"Why?"
"Because we needed something that they had and once they realized what was going on, they offered to help us in any way that they could."
"You're working with the Vatican?" Bobby demanded. "You?"
Dean snorted. "Yeah, who'd have thought, right? But what can I say, they've got amazing resources. Wait until I show you some of the books that they lent us."
"You have books from the Vatican?" Sam questioned and Samuel thought the boy sounded close to fainting. "From their archives?"
"No, Sammy, from their kitchen. Of course the books come from their archives."
"We're just a little surprised, Dean," Gwen stated. "This is... huge, I mean come on, the Vatican?"
"Okay, sorry, you're right. It is a big deal, I've just gotten used to it by now I guess."
"You've gotten used to being able to waltz right into the Vatican and receive their help?" Samuel asked, shaking his head. Only his grandson. He was starting to see what Bobby had been trying to warn him about when it came to the Winchesters. "Wait, are they providing any kind of financial aid? Rumor is that they're wealthy on a rather un-Christian like scale."
"Well I can't say anything about what they might have, but yeah, they've given me a credit card that supposedly doesn't have a limit on it," Dean replied.
"Supposedly?"
"It's not like I've gone out and tested it or anything."
"You haven't?" Sam asked, the surprise and disbelief in his voice making something ugly twist in Samuel's gut. "I'd have thought that you'd have gone on a bender or two with it, perhaps rack up reams of porn and erotica charges."
The emotions that flashed across Dean's face came too hard and fast for Samuel to catch them all but he was pretty sure that there was pain and anger in there before the slate was wiped clean and Mary's firstborn stared at his brother with cold eyes. The result was so unnerving that he couldn't help but wonder if this was what Dean had been like in Hell during the last decade of his time there. Was that the face that the souls that Dean had tortured had seen? He shoved the thought aside ruthlessly, not wanting to think about either it or of Dean being in Hell at all. The mere thought of what had been done to his grandson was enough to make him physically ill if he let it.
"No, Sam," Dean replied, voice as emotionless as his face. "I would not jeopardize such a powerful connection for something so stupid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to pass on a message."
With that Dean stepped away from the dining room table and moved towards the window. It was only a few feet away so when his grandson started speaking again, Samuel had absolutely no trouble hearing the words.
"Hey, Mike, the next time you ask someone to do something for you that requires them letting you know when it's ready, you actually have to give them your phone number. Otherwise they're not gonna be able to, you know, get back to you about it. They can't just magically pull your number out of a hat and it's not exactly listed anywhere. Anyway, Father Mancini just called to say that they have that halcyon thingy we need and you can pick it up whenever you want."
"Uh, Dean?" Gwen inquired when his grandson rejoined them.
"There's a special bond between an angel and their vessel," Dean explained. "If I call to Mike then he can hear me."
Translations:
Padre Mancini, come sta? - Father Mancini, how are you?
Non si preoccupi, mi prenderò cura di lui - Don't worry, I'll take care of him.
Anche lei. Arrivederci, Padre Mancini - You too. Goodbye, Father Mancini.
A.N.: Sorry that this chapter is so late but I've had the worst trouble with it. Absolutely nothing went according to plan and then suddenly the Vatican revelation was in there and I'm still not sure that I like how it happened. I only hope that it hasn't disappointed anyone!
Chapter 151
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 3,606
Summary: Dean's arrival at the Campbell family compound.
PRESENT
The irony that the thing making him pause now was the same thing which used to drive him so relentlessly wasn't lost on Dean and it only served to drive home once more just how much things had changed in the last year.
Family.
It had been the source of so much emotion over the years. Love, grief, hope, terror, comfort, panic, relief, anger, safety and, of course, unimaginable pain. For someone who'd always abhorred chick flick moments as much as he had, it was almost a surprise to Dean that he'd always clung to his family the way that he had.
Of course there were different definitions of family, Dean now understood. There was the one that he'd had before- his father and Sam- the kind of family which you didn't choose; the kind that just was, bound by blood. For the longest time that had been the only kind of family that he'd known. A child didn't think of the fact that this bond didn't exist between their parents after all and even when Bobby had slowly joined their family unit in his mind it hadn't altered anything as Dad had been the one to bring the other hunter in.
Over the past few months that had all changed though. It had taken far longer than it really should have, but eventually it had dawned on Dean that there was another kind of family. The family that you chose and made for yourself; the kind that wasn't just decided for you by fate or the decisions of your parents. It was the kind of family that he'd come to care about most and to which he now clung. Sure, Michael and Raphael or any of Castiel's countless other siblings and relations weren't something that he could choose, and there were definitely ones in there who he'd far rather not be related to even if just by bonding. The important connection, though- his husband- had been entirely his choice and that was what was important.
The realization that Castiel and he were a family in their own right, along with his two new friends, had been a revelation and one of which the awe still hadn't quite faded. Nor would whatever happened here over the course of the next week impact that family any.
That thought fortified Dean enough to shoulder his duffel and approach the house. The gravel crunched oddly beneath his feet and when he looked down he saw large chunks of rock salt mixed in with the small stones. The discovery made him smile and eased more of the tension. If this was the kind of work his mom's family did then he could definitely see them getting along with each other. Well, at least now that Christian was gone anyway. Though the guy had never been more than an annoying and obnoxious ass to his face, the mere fact that Bobby had been as glad as he was when Christian had left was more than enough for him as it told him all that he needed to know.
"Dean."
The voice made him look up and Dean smiled when he saw his grandfather standing in the now opened doorway. "Samuel."
"Please, call me grandpa or grandfather or any other variation thereof."
"Pops?" Dean tried to cover the sudden little frisson of unease that he felt.
"If that strikes your fancy," Samuel replied, pulling him close into a hug when he got within arm's reach of the man. "I'm glad that you're finally here."
"Uh, thanks."
Awkwardly, Dean returned the hug, pulling back as soon as he could politely do so. He couldn't quite remember the man being so touchy feely before, though, to be fair, Samuel hadn't known who he was the first time that they'd met. Hell, he'd be cautious about any new hunter who sudden turned up, especially if he had a daughter and the guy was spending time with her.
"Dean, there you are, I was beginning to think that you weren't going to show up," Bobby said as he stepped into the hall from a side room.
"What, and leave you guys hanging?" Dean asked.
"Well you never know what might have come up in Egypt or Azerbaijan."
"Azerba what?"
"Azerbaijan, it's a little country in Eurasia, formerly part of the Soviet Union."
"Nope, sorry, not been there yet."
"Yet he says," Samuel laughed, closing the front door. "Come on, Gulliver, I'll show you where to put your stuff."
"Not seen any tiny people yet either."
"I sense a but in there," Bobby commented, following them down the hall towards the staircase.
"Well there was this pixie infestation a few months back."
"Pixie?" Samuel demanded, turning to look at him in disbelief.
"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "And before you ask, no, I didn't actually see them as Michael smote them all before I could."
"Welcome to the Winchester world," Bobby told Samuel. "You still sure you want in?"
"It'll keep me from getting bored if nothing else," Samuel replied though Dean didn't fail to notice the quick glance his grandfather shot his way.
"So how's Sam doing?" Dean asked as they reached the second floor. "Is he ready for tonight?"
"Yes, he's sleeping just now as the last few spells took a lot out of him," Bobby stated. "But he's ready. He really wants Lucifer's all access backstage pass revoked so he can get out of the house."
"Yes, your brother has been going a bit stir crazy," Samuel added.
Dean couldn't help but snort at that. He'd seen his brother confined indoors before and it was never pretty. For all that Sam could spend hours in front of a computer screen or looking through a book, the moment that his little brother wasn't allowed out, Sam couldn't focus worth a damn. He strongly suspected that it had to do with his brother's innate inability to take being told what to do. The best way to ensure that Sam would do something was to tell him that he wasn't allowed to do it.
It didn't pass Dean by that they were leading him straight past several empty bedrooms for the one at the very end of the hall, well away from the ones that had clothes or unmade beds in them. Were they expecting him to have Castiel over at night or was this just an attempt to give him some space and privacy? His thoughts leaned towards the former option when they entered the room and he saw that it had a double bed.
"Here you go," Samuel said. "This should have everything you need and there's a bathroom you can use next door."
"It's great, thanks," Dean replied, dropping his duffel onto the bed. "So, where's the kitchen?"
Bobby laughed and looked at Samuel as they left the room. "If you thought that Sam ate a ton, wait until you see what Dean can pack away."
"Hey!"
"You can't be serious," Samuel replied.
"Oh, I am, it's a miracle that he isn't a lot heavier."
"Standing right here," Dean stated, scowling.
"What, are you really gonna try and claim that you don't enjoy eating?" Bobby questioned.
"I have a healthy appetite."
"That sounds like a justification to me," Samuel commented.
"If you wanna talk about obscene portions then you should have seen Sam's during his growth spurt. He went from below average to freak in no time flat."
"I remember that," Bobby chuckled. "The idjit couldn't take a step without stumbling over his own two feet."
"I wasn't quite that bad," a sleep roughed voice protested.
"Hello, Sam," Dean greeted, turning to face his brother where Sam stood in a doorway that had been closed before. "Sorry if we woke you."
Sam shrugged. "S'okay. I probably shouldn't sleep any longer if I want to get any tonight. Do you have everything that we need?"
"No, Mike and Raph are going to bring it all over tonight."
"Are you sure that they'll show?"
"Yes, Sam, of course I'm sure," Dean replied firmly, bristling slightly at the implication. "They're on our side and want this as much as we do."
His brother looked like he wanted to protest that statement, but Bobby must have made a gesture behind his back as Sam subsided ungracefully. Dean forced himself to let it go and instead followed his grandfather and Bobby back downstairs. He was given a brief tour of the rest of the compound and he made sure to ask about defenses and made a mental note to check both the armory and the library later though he knew that Bobby was already making his way through the latter.
"Hello, Dean," Gwen greeted when they got to the back porch to find her sitting there, sharpening a wide assortment of blades with a whetstone. "It's good to see you again."
"And you," Dean replied. "Nice machete."
"Thanks, it's my favorite. Bagged my first vampire with it."
The response made Dean smile and he thought that he could definitely get to like her if this was any indication of what she was like.
/
It took all of the control that Samuel had to keep his hands to himself and to remain where he was. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about having his oldest grandson nearby made him want to reach out and touch Dean. Almost as if he didn't quite believe that this was real and that the boy would vanish if he wasn't careful, like some ephemeral ghost in those cheesy movies that Deanna used to love so much before she learned the truth of what was really out there.
As it was, Samuel was able to restrain himself but only just and that mostly because he was pretty sure that he'd already partially weirded Mary's firstborn out earlier with his overly familiar behavior. The problem was that the boy looked so much like his mother and he kept seeing his precious Mary in him. More than once he'd found himself noticing something about Dean out of the corner of his eye that was so achingly like his daughter that it hurt and yet he couldn't help himself from looking for more. The way that Dean laughed was just like Mary's laugh and he couldn't help but wonder if watching his son grow up hadn't been the worst form of torture for John, always seeing his dead wife while also having the proof that she lived on in their sons.
Samuel knew that he really should be getting to the kitchen as it was his turn to make dinner, but he couldn't seem to pull himself away either. They'd all convened in the dining room to go over the notes that Dean had on the spell and he'd use that as his excuse if anyone asked why he hadn't gotten started yet. After all this was far more important than food and they still had enough bread left for sandwiches if it came to that.
"I don't get why we need hemlock in the potion to be administered on the fourth day," Gwen said, frowning at the page of notes she was studying. "Won't that kill Sam?"
"No, don't worry, I already asked the same question," Dean replied. "It's apparently necessary to help stabilize the Abramelin oil and the demon tears as they would normally form a very unstable concoction."
"Did you just say demon tears?" Bobby demanded.
"Yep. Michael looked far too gleeful at the thought of collecting that particular ingredient for it to be anything other than what it sounds like."
"Did you ask him how he intended to go about collecting them?" Gwen asked.
"Nope."
"Pity 'cause I'd really like to know that particular trick."
Dean laughed and Samuel found his eyes once again drawn back to the boy. Or not boy, really, but he couldn't help but think of both Dean and Sam in that way. To him they were boys; Mary's boys. He wondered what she would think of them if she could see them both now. He knew that she wouldn't be happy that John had raised them as hunters but given the circumstances he really didn't think that she could fault her husband all that much. John had been right in thinking that Azazel had further plans for Sam and would one day be back. If the man hadn't raised the boys as hunters then they'd have been sitting ducks and would probably both be dead now. Or worse.
The thought made Samuel shudder, thinking back on everything that the books had mentioned about the other children, what had happened to them and what that yellow eyed son of bitch had intended for his youngest grandson. He almost regretted the fact that Dean had killed Azazel as he really would have liked to have done it himself. He'd had his chance though and had failed and that was something that he'd have to live with, knowing that he could have stopped it all before Mary had ever been forced to make a deal to save her boyfriend's life.
"Well you can always ask him when he comes by later," Dean said, drawing Samuel's attention back to the others once more.
"That's an awful lot of hemlock, though," Sam stated. "You sure it won't just kill me?"
"Relax, the crushed bezoar will neutralize the toxic effects of the hemlock."
"Crushed bezoar?" Bobby repeated. "You mean that's real?"
"Are you really still surprised at anything having a basis in reality anymore? After everything that we've seen?" Dean questioned.
"What, you gonna tell me you believe in the tooth fairy now too?"
"Honestly? I wouldn't be astonished to learn that there's something in there. Some grain of truth."
"We can hardly believe what we do know at this point," Samuel pointed out. "So why not things that even us hunters used to think were nothing but pure myth or legend?"
The ringing of Dean's cell phone should have been the perfect excuse for Samuel to leave the room and get started on dinner, but he ignored that and focused on his grandson's notes while trying not think about whether Dean's handwriting was similar to Mary's or not.
"Hello," Dean greeted, not that Samuel was listening or anything. "Padre Mancini, come sta?"
Samuel's head jerked up to stare at his eldest grandson the moment that the foreign words registered. Was that Spanish? No, though his Spanish was rusty at best, he knew enough to know that while padre could definitely be Spanish, the rest wasn't. So what on Earth was it? He hadn't realized that Dean could speak another language. Turning to look at Sam, intending to ask his other grandson, he discovered that whatever language Dean was speaking, it was a newly acquired skill as the look of pure astonishment on Sam's face clearly said that the boy hadn't known that his brother could speak it. A quick glance at Bobby further confirmed his suspicions and he wondered when Dean had possibly found the time to learn a new language with everything else that the boy had been dealing with in the last year. Because know it Dean did as the words were rolling off his grandson's tongue far too quickly and fluently to signify anything other than extreme proficiency.
"Is that Italian?" Gwen asked in a whisper.
"It definitely sounds like it," Bobby said.
"Since when does Dean speak Italian?" Sam demanded.
Samuel raised an eyebrow. "If you don't know then how do you expect any of us to?"
Sam threw him an annoyed look and Samuel felt his shoulders stiffen. Unusual circumstances or not, he was still the boy's grandfather and deserved a certain level of respect.
"Non si preoccupi, mi prenderò cura di lui," Dean said, then paused before continuing. "Anche lei. Arrivederci, Padre Mancini."
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded the moment Dean closed his cell phone.
"Huh?" Dean questioned, turning back around to face them.
"Since when do you speak Italian?"
"Oh, uh, since Michael downloaded it into my brain."
"Since Michael-" Sam cut off, clearly too stunned to speak.
"They can do that?" Gwen inquired. "Download a language, just like that?"
"It's a little more complicated and painful than it sounds, but essentially, yes," Dean confirmed.
"Why didn't Cas ever mention this before?" Sam asked. "You know, like when we were going through tomes and tomes of archaic Latin lore?"
"I don't know, you'd have to ask him. Maybe he didn't think it was necessary."
"Forget about necessary, he had to have known that I'd love that!"
"Why did you need to know Italian?" Bobby asked.
It wasn't until the other hunter spoke, his voice far quieter, that Samuel realized just how much Sam had raised his voice. Dean's had escalated in response, probably an automatic reaction to having his... his lover criticized and he hadn't realized how loud they'd gotten until now. Despite the lack of volume, Bobby's question instantly captured his attention due its nature. Just why had Dean needed to know Italian anyway? It wasn't like Latin which any real hunter needed in order to survive these days, let alone excel and as far as global languages were concerned Italian was hardly even a blip on the radar. The fact that the question seemed to make Dean wince only served to intrigue him even more.
"Because it was the only language that everyone present at the Vatican that day knew well enough to be able to follow the conversation, so it was easier for me to learn Italian than for them to translate everything that Mike or I said," Dean replied.
Wait, did his grandson really just say what Samuel thought that Dean had said?
"Did you just say the Vatican?" Samuel demanded in stunned disbelief.
"Yeah."
"The Vatican? As in the head of the Roman Catholic Church?" Sam questioned, a hint of what sounded suspiciously like hysteria in his voice. "You went to the Vatican?"
"More than once actually," Dean replied.
"Why?"
"Because we needed something that they had and once they realized what was going on, they offered to help us in any way that they could."
"You're working with the Vatican?" Bobby demanded. "You?"
Dean snorted. "Yeah, who'd have thought, right? But what can I say, they've got amazing resources. Wait until I show you some of the books that they lent us."
"You have books from the Vatican?" Sam questioned and Samuel thought the boy sounded close to fainting. "From their archives?"
"No, Sammy, from their kitchen. Of course the books come from their archives."
"We're just a little surprised, Dean," Gwen stated. "This is... huge, I mean come on, the Vatican?"
"Okay, sorry, you're right. It is a big deal, I've just gotten used to it by now I guess."
"You've gotten used to being able to waltz right into the Vatican and receive their help?" Samuel asked, shaking his head. Only his grandson. He was starting to see what Bobby had been trying to warn him about when it came to the Winchesters. "Wait, are they providing any kind of financial aid? Rumor is that they're wealthy on a rather un-Christian like scale."
"Well I can't say anything about what they might have, but yeah, they've given me a credit card that supposedly doesn't have a limit on it," Dean replied.
"Supposedly?"
"It's not like I've gone out and tested it or anything."
"You haven't?" Sam asked, the surprise and disbelief in his voice making something ugly twist in Samuel's gut. "I'd have thought that you'd have gone on a bender or two with it, perhaps rack up reams of porn and erotica charges."
The emotions that flashed across Dean's face came too hard and fast for Samuel to catch them all but he was pretty sure that there was pain and anger in there before the slate was wiped clean and Mary's firstborn stared at his brother with cold eyes. The result was so unnerving that he couldn't help but wonder if this was what Dean had been like in Hell during the last decade of his time there. Was that the face that the souls that Dean had tortured had seen? He shoved the thought aside ruthlessly, not wanting to think about either it or of Dean being in Hell at all. The mere thought of what had been done to his grandson was enough to make him physically ill if he let it.
"No, Sam," Dean replied, voice as emotionless as his face. "I would not jeopardize such a powerful connection for something so stupid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to pass on a message."
With that Dean stepped away from the dining room table and moved towards the window. It was only a few feet away so when his grandson started speaking again, Samuel had absolutely no trouble hearing the words.
"Hey, Mike, the next time you ask someone to do something for you that requires them letting you know when it's ready, you actually have to give them your phone number. Otherwise they're not gonna be able to, you know, get back to you about it. They can't just magically pull your number out of a hat and it's not exactly listed anywhere. Anyway, Father Mancini just called to say that they have that halcyon thingy we need and you can pick it up whenever you want."
"Uh, Dean?" Gwen inquired when his grandson rejoined them.
"There's a special bond between an angel and their vessel," Dean explained. "If I call to Mike then he can hear me."
Translations:
Padre Mancini, come sta? - Father Mancini, how are you?
Non si preoccupi, mi prenderò cura di lui - Don't worry, I'll take care of him.
Anche lei. Arrivederci, Padre Mancini - You too. Goodbye, Father Mancini.
A.N.: Sorry that this chapter is so late but I've had the worst trouble with it. Absolutely nothing went according to plan and then suddenly the Vatican revelation was in there and I'm still not sure that I like how it happened. I only hope that it hasn't disappointed anyone!
Chapter 151