Mirror 2/3
Previous
Chapter 2
Gabriel was on edge. He couldn’t put his finger on why, beyond a general sense of Holy disturbance in the Force, Batman! It was all he could do to show up to work like the regular schmuck-or was that S. Muck?-that he was pretending to be.
His radio beeped.
“Yo,” he replied into it.
“You’re needed on the fourth floor.”
“Right.” He clipped the radio back on his belt and trudged up the stairs.
He could hear the pipes rattling as he approached the room. Tamping down his anxiety-hello, Archangel Gabriel, Power of God-he took a deep breath and opened the door.
The door slammed closed behind him as soon as he was five steps in. And a very familiar sense of power closed around him, meaning he couldn’t leave now even if he wanted to.
He sighed. “Hello, Kali.”
“Loki. I missed you.”
“Missed you, too, toots, but let’s not play games-for once, I’m not in the mood. Do you know what’s going on or don’t you?”
“You feel it, then, too.”
“Of course I do.”
“What is it?”
Gabriel sighed. “I don’t know.”
She gaped at him.
“Kali, this isn’t-” He stopped himself before he could say anything like Dad never said anything about this kind of thing happening, whatever it is. “It’s like something’s tearing at the fabric of reality, only that doesn’t make sense.”
“If that’s so... then there’s someone who might be able to help.”
Gabriel frowned in confusion until he realized who she meant. “Atropos.”
She smiled and vanished.
Gabriel sighed and conjured himself a recliner and a big mug of cocoa. Then, after fortifying himself with the chocolate, he closed his eyes and tried to feel out the cause of the disturbance. It didn’t take long for him to find it. He just... couldn’t quite make sense of it. He thought he knew every being Dad had created, but these....
These were... evil incarnate.
He was still trying to figure out what he was seeing when Kali returned with Atropos. He took Atropos’s hand and fed it into her.
She sighed wearily. “I suspected as much.”
“What ARE they?”
She conjured herself a chair of her own and sat. “They’re leviathans, Loki. Yahweh locked them away in Purgatory long before the rest of us came along.”
“Why are they disturbing us now?” he asked, spreading his hands. “What in all the hells is going on?”
“It’s a long story, but the short version is... the angels finally managed to do what humanity couldn’t quite. They opened the wrong doors one time too many.”
“So how do we fix it?”
“Honestly, Loki, I’m not sure if we can. I mean, one of the fault lines runs all the way back to 1861. But...” She paused and thought for a moment. “No, it might not be too late after all. But there are two humans who are at the center of all this; we need to involve them.”
He nodded and stood, changing from his janitor’s jumpsuit to his usual clothing with a thought. “All right, point me in their direction. We’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Don’t think you’re going anywhere without me,” Kali stated.
Gabriel smiled and pulled her close. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Atropos stood and took Gabriel’s other hand. Then she chanted something in Greek, and suddenly they were standing outside a shabby motel, next to a sleek black ’67 Impala.
Gabriel whistled. “Sharp car....”
“Sharp hunters,” Atropos returned. “Though they’re not feeling so sharp right now; the shockwaves are doing a number on both of them.”
“Shall we?” Kali smiled.
Gabriel smiled back and marched up to the door of the motel room, rapping out a quick shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits. It was opened by a grizzled man with a beard.
Gabriel might be deep undercover, but he wasn’t so far cut off from Heaven that he couldn’t recognize the man or the two younger men in the room behind him. He was surprised, but hid it swiftly. “Bobby Singer?”
“Who wants t’know?” the man growled.
“This is Atropos, this is Kali, and you can call me Loki. We’d like a word.”
“Then say your piece.”
“It concerns the Winchesters. They need to hear it, and we need to get out of this parking lot before we attract attention. Three gods in one place gets kind of conspicuous, if you know what I mean.”
Dean looked at them. “Tres? Dejarlos entrar, Bobby.”
Bobby looked over his shoulder at Dean for a moment, then sized each of them up before stepping aside to let them in. Gabriel rapped his knuckles on the doorframe as he passed, setting wards that the humans wouldn’t be able to see even if they felt their effect.
Both goddesses looked at him and then grinned. Then they all turned to the Winchesters.
Gabriel glanced around the grungy room and sighed. “This won’t do.” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly the room was much cleaner and had much nicer furnishings, including a recliner for Bobby and a couch where the goddesses and Gabriel seated themselves.
Suddenly Bobby had his gun out. “You’re a Trickster.”
Gabriel held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Easy, Singer. Yes, I am a Trickster, but I’m on your side. And there’s a lot more going on here than Dean getting whacked on the head.”
We listen, Dean signed.
“I’ll let you start,” Gabriel said to Atropos. “You take the what, I’ll take the why.”
Atropos nodded. “Fair enough. Sam, Dean, the symptoms you’re experiencing are the result of a serious disruption in the fabric of space-time.”
They all looked at her, and she suddenly had their full attention.
“I’m afraid, given the nature of the problem, I have to begin at the end. In May of 2013, a race of monsters known as leviathans will manage to trace a young cambion named Jesse Turner. Knowing that the forces of Hell will have already attempted to recruit young Turner to be the Antichrist once before, the leviathans will attack him in force to try to kill him. Turner will attempt to defend himself, but he will have spent too much of his life hiding and will not have perfect control of his powers. The result will be something akin to a supernatural nuclear explosion, but its effect will not be limited to that time and place.
“By then, space-time will be weakened from the opening of a number of interdimensional rifts that should never have opened at all. The blast in 2013 will send shockwaves back to a period of significant instability and will essentially mean that the year from May 2010 to May 2011... repeats itself, but with different events. Space-time will buckle and compress, so that a year’s time will both pass and not pass. The shockwaves from that buckling are what we’re feeling now.”
“Wieso?” Dean was back to German again.
“One of the reasons for the instability is that certain humans and certain angels have been meddling in the past. Most of the trips have resulted in closed causality loops, and the only one that resulted in a significant change in history has been undone. But time travel of that sort still bends space-time in a way that it was not meant to bend, and those weaknesses-fault lines, really-cannot be unmade. All of them pass through this year... and your lives in particular.”
“I’ll be 27 in 2010,” Sam suddenly said. “That’s why I think I am, isn’t it?”
“Likely,” Atropos nodded. “And it would account for any memories you might have of things that haven’t happened yet.”
Sam nodded firmly.
“It might... also account for out-of-character behavior,” she added quietly. “You will spend that first part of the loop without your soul.”
Bobby’s eyes went huge and snapped to Sam. “That’s why you act like John!”
Gabriel laughed in spite of himself. “John Winchester did have a soul!”
“That’s not what I mean, you idjit Trickster. I meant that John operated on intellect alone. He shut down all his emotions except revenge after Mary was murdered.”
“Ah. Well, there you do have a point. Without a soul, Sam won’t be capable of experiencing the full human range of emotions or of reasoning rightly; he’ll be similar to a high-functioning sociopath. And the demon blood won’t help matters any.”
“Demon blood?” all three yelped, even though Dean’s was in Spanish.
“Yeah, this is where I take over the explanation. There’s a specific reason those fault lines intersect your lives: you wouldn’t exist as you are now had certain angels not seen fit to manipulate the past to force your lives to fit a particular narrative. Part of that narrative required a predestination paradox. In 2008, Dean was sent back to 1973, supposedly to gain information about the plan Azazel-that’s the yellow-eyed demon-has for Sam and the kids like him, but the angel who gave the order knew that Dean would try to stop Azazel and in so doing would inadvertently draw the demon’s attention to Mary. Azazel then killed your grandparents and your dad and offered your mom a deal: your dad’s life for permission to enter your house in ten years’ time.
“Now, the reason he needed that permission was that Lucifer had charged him with finding a ‘special child’ and infecting that child with demon blood on the night he turned six months old. Luci wants Sam specifically, but he couldn’t tell Azazel that, so Azazel’s been infecting a select few out of each generation. The demon blood produces psychic powers, but it can also result in anger that puts ’roid rage to shame.”
“Yarost,” Dean muttered, glaring at Sam.
“I’m not drinking it anymore!” Sam roared back, then blinked. “Wait, what?! Why the hell did I say that?”
Gabriel just nodded. “Yep. That’s part of the plan-get you hooked on drinking the stuff to amplify your powers and keep you from thinking straight so that you can be goaded into killing Lilith and letting Luci out of his cage.”
“Why are you shootin’ straight with us?” Bobby demanded.
“Because we have to fix this now before the whole damn universe implodes.”
“So how the hell do we fix THIS?” Sam erupted.
“Simple,” said Kali. “We kill Azazel.”
“Good luck there,” Sam scoffed, back to ‘John, Jr.’
“Your father may have relinquished the Colt, but that is hardly the only weapon capable of the task.” She drew a scimitar out of the air and twirled it with seeming carelessness.
Sam was instantly fascinated.
“Kali’s right,” stated Atropos. “Killing Azazel won’t undo the damage to the past, but it will change the future enough to stabilize the present.”
Will stop Sammy’s shifts? Dean signed.
“I can’t promise, but it should. If Azazel dies now, the chain of events that leads to Sam’s soulless year and a half won’t be triggered.”
“But the demon blood?” Bobby asked.
“He’ll still have it, unfortunately. But because the infection is tied to Azazel, the effect will be lessened significantly, and the visions will most likely cease. And again, the chain of events leading to the addiction will be broken. Sam should go back to what you know as normal.”
Do it, signed Dean.
“We’ll need your help,” said Gabriel.
Dean and Sam nodded.
Gabriel nodded back. “Here’s the plan.”
Sam checked the contents of the duffle one last time before leaving the car. He still remembered the list of ingredients John had asked him to get from Bobby, and everything was in place.
The goddesses were hidden and the Trickster was - somewhere.
Dean was back at the motel with Bobby. His balance had started to go shortly after he began slipping into Czech, of all languages. Besides, this was going to work better with Dean not being in the immediate vicinity.
“It’ll work, Dean,” Bobby smiled.
“Hoffentlich,” Dean whispered, barely able to stand the sound of his own voice. “Ich... ich will nicht ihn verlieren, Bobby. Was würde ich ohne ihn tun?”
“You won’t lose him, boy. He’ll come back to us.”
Dean just nodded miserably and tried to fall asleep.
Bobby let him, keeping watch with one eye on the phone and the other on the clock.
Meanwhile, Sam finished the sigil and counted mentally. He struck the match, touched it to the bowl, and recited the incantation.
The fire flared... and there he was, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Howdy, Sam.”
“Hi,” Sam said, smirking as he dropped his bombshell. “Azazel.”
Azazel raised an eyebrow. “You got smart awful fast. How do you know my name?”
He smirked. “An anomaly popped up in my bloodwork. Seems my blood’s not completely human,” he gave the cover story they’d come up with. “And I did research and found out the denizens of Hell and your name was pretty prominent.”
Azazel inclined his head. “So why’d you summon me? You just want to kill me on principle? Or send me home? Good luck with either one.”
“Neither one. I wanna know why my blood is like it is. I wanna know what happened with my dad.”
“Do you?” Azazel began to circle Sam. “Why this sudden curiosity? Why do you care what John did? I killed him just like I had your precious little Jessica killed. Isn’t that all that matters?”
“I care because the Colt went missing just after and that’s too big of a coincidence. Why did you kill my mom? Why did you kill my dad? Why did you kill Jessica? Why the hell am I so special that you gotta kill everyone I love?”
Azazel shook his head. “Sam, Sam, Sam. You always were my favorite. Here, let me show you a little something.”
Sam waited. And a sudden headache drove him to his knees-followed by a vision of Azazel standing over a crib, chanting quietly, then slicing open a vein and dripping blood into a baby’s mouth. The baby began to cry as its eyes flashed gold... and then....
“Oh, G-d,” Sam sobbed. “... that’s me.... What the hell did you DO to me?”
“Better than mother’s milk,” Azazel purred. “I gave you strength, Sam, and power you’ve barely begun to taste. We need you.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Hell, Sam. We need someone to lead the army in the coming war.”
“Is that why you did this to me? To make me a - a general for HELL?”
“Oh, no. Not just that. Sam... if I’m right about you, you are so incredibly special, you have no idea. You aren’t just our leader... you’re the chosen one.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “You sure love talkin’ in riddles. Try speaking plainly.”
“Lucifer, Sam. If I’m right-and I do believe I am-you... are Lucifer’s vessel.”
Those narrow eyes went huge. “... WHAT?” he roared, looking decidedly sick.
“You’re from a rare bloodline, Sam-two rare bloodlines, to be honest-and the fact that you’re the second son is rarer still. You and Dean, you’re the keys. You can start this Apocalypse... and with you, Lucifer will win it all. Dean will never accept Michael; the angels will have to find him a lesser vessel who’d be no match for you even now.”
“I don’t get a say in this?”
Azazel shrugged. “Of course you get a say. Lucifer’s still an angel, y’know, and angels can’t possess humans without permission. But you’ll say yes.”
“I’d rather serve you than him.”
Azazel blinked. “Come again?”
“I would rather serve you than him.”
Azazel stared at him for a moment. “What exactly are you proposing, Sammy?”
“That if this blood makes me so damn special, and if I have to serve someone, I’d rather serve the devil I know than the real Devil.”
“... I work for Lucifer, Sam. I just told you that.”
Sam growled and seemed to slump. He crouched down, his arms dangling between his legs.
“However... I’m willing to... keep an open mind. Name your price.”
He looked up at Azazel. “You leave Dean and Bobby alone.”
Azazel scoffed. “Aiming low, Sam. What else?”
“What else is there?”
“Oh, come on. There’s some other reason you called me.” He studied Sam for a moment. “Something’s wrong with Dean, is that it?”
Sam’s breathing quickened. “... he-he can’t talk right.”
“Can’t talk right? What do you mean?”
“His brain’s been damaged. He can’t speak English and can’t control what language he’s talking in.”
Azazel raised an eyebrow. “You know, your dad didn’t try to bargain with me until Dean was on his deathbed.”
“And Dean thinks he killed Dad because of that,” Sam snorted. Following the idea that just ‘snapped’ into his head, he added, “But not before he told Dean that if he couldn’t save me he’d have to kill me.”
Azazel’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Did he, now? You think Dean will pose a problem if you do pledge your loyalty to me? He always was Daddy’s good little soldier.”
“I know.” Sam put all the disgust of ‘soullessness’ into his voice. “Drives me insane.”
“So why do you want me to heal him?”
“He’s m’brother.” Sam raised his chin. “And I love him.”
“He’s a liability, Sam.”
“How so?”
“You know what he’s like. And even if he does go along with us, he’s your Achilles heel. All the angels would have to do is take him.”
Sam’s eyes closed and he slumps again with a defeated sigh. “I can’t friggin’ win.”
“Ah. I haven’t said no yet.”
Sam raised devastated eyes to him.
“I just want to make sure I’ve got your terms clear. I heal Dean and make sure he and Bobby are left alone, and you’ll pledge your absolute obedience to me and only me. Is that right?”
“Only you. Nobody above you or below you.”
Azazel nodded thoughtfully. “An unusual deal. I’ll need a moment to consider it.”
“Please,” Sam whispered. “I can’t live in this tension anymore.”
And a bowstring twanged from the shadows, and then the demon had an arrow sticking out of his chest, hellfire sparking around the edges of the wound.
Sam stood and watched, smirking.
Azazel’s mouth worked in silent shock before he wheezed, “Y-you....”
But he was cut off by another arrow.
“By the way,” Sam said to the dying demon, “You’ve been conned.”
“Wh-h-how....”
“Why, Azazel... haven’t you learned by now?” the blonde woman with glasses stepped out from around Sam. She smiled at him. “You need to stop trying to control Fate.”
While Azazel struggled for an adequate response to that, a silver sword shimmered into Sam’s right hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged it deep into the demon’s heart and twisted it.
Azazel’s eyes went huge and he seemed to fold in on himself.
“That’s for my mother,” Sam snarled and jerked the sword out again, then watched dispassionately as the demon fell, burning from within.
Kali and Loki walked up. “You doin’ okay there, Samwise?” Loki asked.
Sam looked at him. Then back down to the demon. “And for Dad,” he whispered. “And for Jess.”
Then he swayed, dropped the sword, and collapsed. Gabriel just managed to catch him before he hit the ground.
“... what the...” Kali gasped.
“He’ll be all right,” Atropos said quietly. “Space-time’s knitting itself back together, but since Sam’s suffered such significant effects from the disturbance, he’ll be unconscious until both space-time and his psyche have sorted themselves out.”
“Where’d he get that sword?”
“That,” said Loki, “is a professional secret, toots.” And he, Sam, and the sword vanished.
Kali groaned. “I HATE it when he does that.”
Atropos sighed and shook her head.
Dean shot to his feet - and nearly overbalanced - when Gabriel appeared cradling Sam. “SAMMY!” he yelped.
“Easy, Dean,” Gabriel replied. “It’s done. He’ll be fine when he wakes up.”
“¿Cuando será que?” Dean demanded, his voice shaking.
“When everything is fixed. Lie down.” And Gabriel moved toward the other side of Dean’s bed.
Dean was yelling at him. Every word was a different language.
Gabriel gently lowered Sam onto the bed. “I said lie down, squirt.”
Dean gestured at Gabriel, but his legs just wouldn’t hold him any longer.
With a sigh, Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Dean found himself in bed beside Sam. “He is FINE, Dean. Go back to sleep.”
Dean curled up and put a hand over Sam’s heart and only then did he sleep.
Gabriel shook his head in fond annoyance and walked back around the bed. “I’m not a healer, Singer,” he said without looking at Bobby, “but I’ll do what I can for him.” Then he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair, sending subtle waves of power into the young man’s head.
Dean whimpered.
“Shh. It’s okay, Deano.”
“... hurrrrz....”
Bobby’s eyes flew wide open.
“It’s okay,” Gabriel repeated.
Dean whimpered again and then went still and silent.
Gabriel caressed the top of his head again and then stepped away from the bed.
“... that... that was English,” Bobby gasped. “That was English!”
“Yeah. It was. He’s probably still gonna have a headache when he wakes up, but....”
“But you’ve got him back speaking English....”
Gabriel shrugged. “It’s a start.”
“A start?”
“Bobby, I told you, I’m not a healer. I don’t know how much damage will be left.”
“But Sam - Sam will wake up.”
“Yeah, he will. His brain just needs to sort out what memories are his and what bled through from the timeline we’ve just averted.”
“And then Dean will wake up and we’ll see what’s left.”
“Right.” Gabriel paused. “It is a good sign that he’s speaking English... though if you wanted....” He trailed off with a devious grin.
“What?” Bobby demanded.
“I don’t have to put him all the way back to normal.”
Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
“Oh, I’d restore him to full health, don’t worry. And English would still be his native and default. But how many languages did he curse me out in?”
Bobby rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, mentally counting. He blinked at Gabriel. “Ten.”
Gabriel replied with an eyebrow waggle worthy of Groucho Marx.
“Are you sayin’ you wanna leave him a polyglot?”
“Bingo.”
Bobby began to laugh softly. “That would actually help us out. Huh - a Trickster wanting to help us.”
“Ah. You caught me on a good day.”
“So long as English is his default and he doesn’t lose it again.” Bobby smiled and shook his head. “John would kill me.”
Gabriel chuckled. “Nah, I’m not that cruel. I reserve the right to use the mute button on ’im, though.”
“No.”
“Aw, come on. It wouldn’t be permanent even if I did.”
Bobby just looked at him.
“Oh, fine. Only in extreme emergencies when his life depends on shutting up for five seconds.”
Bobby chuckled. “I’m actually starting to like you.”
That caught Gabriel off-guard for a second. “Really? Funny... I’m starting to like you mooks, too.”
“So let’s see how Dean is when he wakes up and go from there.”
Just then Sam stirred, rolled over, snuggled closer to Dean, and stilled again. Seconds later he was snoring softly.
Gabriel’s eyebrows rose.
Bobby smiled a little. “Oh, yeah. Sam will be fine.”
“So that’s natural for him?”
“Maybe not since he left for college, but when they were little, they’d curl up together like that all the time.”
Gabriel nodded and watched the brothers sleep.
They were still asleep when Kali and Atropos returned. Gabriel smiled at them.
“I have disposed of the corpse,” Kali informed him.
“Good,” Gabriel nodded. He looked at Atropos. “And the demon inside is truly gone.”
Atropos gave him a knowing look. “Yes, it’s gone. And I still have the job Yahweh gave me, and I seriously doubt anyone will be letting the leviathans out for at least the next decade.”
He nodded. “Then I think our job here is mostly done.”
“Mostly?” the goddesses chorused.
“It’ll be completely done when these two muttonheads are okay again.” He paused. “And there’s someone else I need to talk to.” He hugged Kali. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
Kali huffed. “You’ll see me when I want you to.” But she kissed him before she vanished.
He turned back to Atropos. “Thank you, Milady.”
“And thank you... Loki.” She gave him that knowing look again before leaving.
With that, he turned to Bobby.
“You stickin’ around?” Bobby asked.
“In a while. I want to make sure these mooks are okay, like I said.” He snapped his fingers and vanished.
Bobby sighed, somewhat at a loss as to what to make of it all. Then he went over to the bed and drew the covers over his sleeping boys.
When Gabriel returned, he was smiling.
Bobby raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“His mind is waking up.” Gabriel put a hand on Dean’s forehead and raised the other one. “I’m waking him up now.”
“Ge’y’r damn han’offm’head,” Dean grumbled into Sam’s shoulder.
Gabriel chuckled and snapped his fingers. Then he winked at Bobby and vanished.
Dean turned enough to squint one eye at Bobby. “Is he gone?”
“He’s gone.”
“’S it over?”
“When Sam wakes up, we’ll know.”
Dean nodded.
“How you doing?”
Dean groaned. “Habe noch ’ne Kopf... schmerz. Um. Did... did I just speak German?”
“You did,” Bobby groaned.
“’Cause that sounded like German.”
His eyes widened. “You can hear the difference now? Did you do that on purpose?”
“I can hear the difference, but I didn’t do it on purpose... it’s like the thought just formed that way, and that’s how it came out.”
Bobby snarled out, “He said English would be your default.”
“It is, it’s just... hell, don’t tell me your gears don’t stick when you’ve been translatin’ too long.”
Staring at him in disbelief, Bobby suddenly chuckled and Dean could see him relax. “Point taken.”
Dean managed a weak smile. “Good. Café, por favor.”
“A la mesa, idioto.”
Dean groaned again and started to roll away from Sam.
Sam protested.
Dean immediately stopped and rolled back to him. “Sammy?”
His eyes slowly opened.
“Hey. You okay in there, dude?”
“... Dean?”
“Yeah.”
“I can understand you....”
“You should. I’m speakin’ English.”
Sam laughed softly.
“How are you?”
“My head hurts.”
“Really? That makes two of us.”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one concussed.”
“Dude, you got whammied with four years of memories that hadn’t happened yet. I think you’ve got a reason.”
Sam hummed and closed his eyes.
“Speakin’ of memories....”
“Yeah?”
Dean swallowed, unsure how to ask his question. “You... remember Stanford now?”
A slight smile curved his lips. “Yeah.”
“You remember how old you are?”
“Dude, I’m 23.”
“And... the demon chick?”
Sam shivered, his eyes opening. “Doesn’t exist.”
Dean let out a quiet sigh of relief, his head tilting forward a little so that his forehead met Sam’s. “Awesome.”
“That future... it’s gone.”
A tear slipped down Dean’s cheek.
Sam frowned, reaching up. “Hey... what’s this?”
Dean sounded wrecked when he whispered, “The last thing Dad said to me... he s-said....”
“I know. That was.... That was in the memories. You told me eventually.”
“But if that future’s gone, then... then it doesn’t matter. You’re safe.”
“I’m safe.” Sam beamed. “And you’re safe.”
Another tear slipped out. “Sammy, you have no idea... it’s been killing me to keep this from you, to even have to think about having to kill you.”
“Wait, what?” Bobby yelped. “KILL him?”
Dean nodded, but Sam replied for him. “Dad told Dean that if he couldn’t save me, he’d have to kill me. Guess he knew more about the demon blood than he told anyone.”
Bobby shook his head. “That damned fool!”
“Bobby, it’s over,” Dean said. “Nothin’s coming for us now. Nothin’s gonna turn Sam darkside. So can we just... get over our headaches and maybe go on vacation or something?”
“I’ll get the aspirin.”
“And my coffee?” That came out a little whinier than Dean intended.
“And your coffee, whiny brat,” Bobby teased.
Dean snorted and dredged up an insult in Japanese.
Bobby shot back in kind and then headed to the bathroom to get the aspirin.
When Dean turned back, Sam was staring at him with eyes so wide he had a wild mental image of them rolling out of their sockets and rolling away screaming.
“What?”
“You... j-just....”
Dean smirked.
Sam’s jaw lowered as realization seemed to slam into him. “Omig-d!” he gasped. “You’re - You’re still a polyglot!”
“I’ll polyglot you,” Dean grumbled good-naturedly-in English this time.
“And you still....” Sam suddenly grabbed him and hugged him.
“Gah! Concussion!” But Dean hugged him back.
Bobby returned with the pills and coffee.
“Okay, you giant girl, lemme breathe,” Dean rumbled into Sam’s ear.
Sam pulled back, grinning so large his dimples were showing.
Dean smiled back wearily. “We good?”
“We’re good.”
Dean patted Sam’s shoulder, rolled onto his back, and eased himself upright with a groan. Bobby handed him the aspirin, which he took with a grateful nod and washed down with the coffee.
Sam took some, too.
“I’m serious, dude,” Dean said after he finished his mug of coffee. “Let’s go to the Grand Canyon. Go back to New York, look up Sarah, see if she’s still single. Hell, there’s a chick in Indiana I’d love to see again-yoga instructor, Lisa Braeden. Bendiest weekend of my life.”
Sam held up a hand. “I don’t want to know any more about that weekend, thank you.” Then he found himself frowning deeply. “On second thought, seeing her is a good thing.”
Dean frowned. “Why?”
“You were there nearly eight years ago, right?”
Dean’s frown deepened. “Dude, what are you ‘remembering’? You’re not-” His eyes went wide. “You’re not saying... I’ve got a kid?!”
Sam shrugged. “Little boy.”
Dean’s eyes slid shut as he cursed quietly in Russian. “How’d we find out? Something come after them?”
“Yeah. ’Bout a year from now.”
Dean exhaled slowly. “Okay. So we got time to hit the Grand Canyon first.”
Sam laughed. “We got time.”
Dean looked over at him then. “Would... would you be okay? I mean, settling down, retiring? Maybe you could even go back to school-Cicero’s not that far from Indianapolis.”
“And what would I major in?” Sam spread his hands. “Dude, that ship SAILED.”
“So? I just... I am so incredibly tired, Sam, and it’s not just the concussion. But I don’t know if I can quit without you.”
“And I don’t know if I can quit hunting all together. It’s like you said awhile back - it’s like Dad wants us to pick up where he left off.”
“So... maybe we compromise. Weekend hunts, that kind of thing. I can’t just let you take off alone.”
Sam smiled. “And I don’t think you’re tired of hunting. You told me once you’d not last a month in ‘normal’ without trying to blow your brains out. I think you’re tired of the weight Dad put on you. Dean - that weight’s GONE.”
Dean shook his head. “No, dude. I mean, yeah, the whole ‘save you or kill you’ bit, that’s gone, but... Dad made a damn deal to save my life. Hell, I should have died back in April when I got electrocuted. That doesn’t just go away, Sam.”
“Then allow me to ease your burden,” a strange voice said.
Three heads snapped to face the new arrival. “Who the hell are you?” Dean growled.
“My name is Castiel,” the stranger nodded.
“And what the hell are you?”
“I am an angel of the Lord,” the man with the unnatural-looking blue eyes answered.
“There’s...” no such thing, Dean started to say before he remembered what Atropos and Loki had said. “Why are you here?”
“To speak to you, Dean. You carry twin burdens unnecessarily.”
“What do you mean?”
“May I sit?”
“Sure,” Sam replied before Dean could object. “Here, let me-” He started to get up, but a wave of vertigo forced him to sink back down on the bed.
Castiel sat beside him and nodded. “You will be all right.” He turned to Dean. “You bear the burden of thinking you are on borrowed time.”
“I am. Two people have died for me.”
“And more have been saved by the fact you exist.”
Dean’s gaze fell to his lap. “That won’t bring back Dad. Or Mom.”
“No. But they are together now.”
Dean looked up, frowning in confusion-then frowned deeper as his fists clenched. “No. No, don’t you dare tell me Mom’s in Hell.”
Castiel frowned, then his eyes went wide in comprehension. “No, of course not! I am telling you that when Azazel was destroyed, his deals were undone as the threads unraveled. We were able to rescue your father from Hell, and he is with Mary Campbell Winchester in Heaven.”
Anger faded back into confusion as Dean’s fists relaxed. “What? But-how-why....”
“It was a holy deal with an unholy creature - and thus able to be undone.”
Sam frowned. “A holy deal?”
“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “One made from the strongest of loves - that sacrificial love of a parent for a child.”
Dean searched Castiel’s face. “You got Dad out... but... why? Why do you care?”
“I ... do not understand.”
“Good things don’t just happen. Not to us.”
“They do. All the time. You are just too blinded by grief and depression to see them.”
Dean scoffed.
“And about the repair with your heart-”
Dean looked at him.
“It truly was not your time to go. The man the Reaper killed is in Heaven with his family.”
Dean’s voice shook a little as he asked, “What about Layla? She believed.”
A smile touched the angel’s lips. “Layla lives.”
Dean’s eyes went wide. “She... does?”
“She does. She is happily married and currently pregnant with twins.”
“But....”
“Yes?”
“The... the brain cancer....”
“It was never cancer. She was misdiagnosed.”
Dean’s mouth fell open.
“She moved from her mother, got a second opinion, and found it is smaller than she was told and benign.”
Dean managed to close his mouth before running a shaking hand over it, fighting tears.
Castiel put a hand on his arm. “She LIVES, Dean.”
Dean’s eyes closed, and he swallowed convulsively.
The angel waited.
“Why?” Dean finally croaked. “Why me? Why us? What’s so damn special about this family?”
Sam opened his mouth, but Castiel answered. “You are descendants of hunters that stretch back to the foundation of this country - and before. You have a fabled and strong bloodline that makes you attractive to the supernatural.”
Dean frowned. “Dad was from a family of mechanics.”
“The Campbells are hunters.”
Both brothers stared at Castiel.
“Your mother left the life to marry your father.”
“So that’s what he meant,” Sam whispered.
“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “That’s what he meant.”
“Wait,” Dean demanded. “That’s what who meant?”
“Loki,” Sam said. “A Trickster who healed us.”
Dean’s eyes slipped shut. “I’m gonna blame this on the concussion, but I have no damn clue what you’re talking about, Sam.”
Sam told him the short version of what Azazel had said.
Dean frowned a little, even with his eyes closed. “Well, there’s gotta be something special about Dad’s line, too, then....” Then he snorted. “Hell, I’m just makin’ my headache worse tryin’ to make sense of all this.”
Sam looked at Castiel, who gazed back at him. Then Sam took a deep breath. “Dad’s bloodline makes us - specially adapted - to helping people. Apparently we... we heal faster than normal people.”
Dean’s eyes opened just enough to let him glare at Sam. “You know more than you’re telling, and one day I will get it out of you.”
“All right, fine,” Sam sighed. “It also makes us super-attractive to two major players of the Apocalypse in the future-that-was-wiped-out. But that’s a moot point now.”
“Your brother is correct,” Castiel said. “And that is the entire truth of it.”
Dean sighed and let his eyes close again. “Swell. So can we take our damn vacation or not?”
“In the morning.” He leaned forward and brushed his hand over the top of Dean’s head. “For tonight, rest.”
Dean sighed again, sagged, and slowly tilted sideways until his head came to rest on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam looked at him, then up at Castiel.
“He will rest now.” The angel turned to Bobby. “As for you....”
“Yeah?” Bobby returned.
“John Winchester may be gone.” He stood. “But they do not lack a father. Thanks to you. Be blessed.”
“I am,” Bobby breathed. “Every damn day.”
A nod, and the three were alone.
Bobby let out a long, slow exhale. “Well. You hungry, Sam?”
“Actually, Bobby? I think I’d like to just rest here awhile.” Sam beamed. “We’ve got a trip to the Grand Canyon to set out on tomorrow.”
“I meant carry-outs, idjit,” Bobby replied with a smile.
Sam smiled, his eyes slowly closing. “Sure. Anything.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a few.” And Bobby slipped out quietly, sending a silent prayer of thanks to a God who apparently did exist after all.
Sam curled up with his sleeping brother and his last thought before sleep submerged him was a prayer of sheer gratitude that they were both finally and permanently safe - and that his memories of four years of hell were now nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
Next
Chapter 2
Gabriel was on edge. He couldn’t put his finger on why, beyond a general sense of Holy disturbance in the Force, Batman! It was all he could do to show up to work like the regular schmuck-or was that S. Muck?-that he was pretending to be.
His radio beeped.
“Yo,” he replied into it.
“You’re needed on the fourth floor.”
“Right.” He clipped the radio back on his belt and trudged up the stairs.
He could hear the pipes rattling as he approached the room. Tamping down his anxiety-hello, Archangel Gabriel, Power of God-he took a deep breath and opened the door.
The door slammed closed behind him as soon as he was five steps in. And a very familiar sense of power closed around him, meaning he couldn’t leave now even if he wanted to.
He sighed. “Hello, Kali.”
“Loki. I missed you.”
“Missed you, too, toots, but let’s not play games-for once, I’m not in the mood. Do you know what’s going on or don’t you?”
“You feel it, then, too.”
“Of course I do.”
“What is it?”
Gabriel sighed. “I don’t know.”
She gaped at him.
“Kali, this isn’t-” He stopped himself before he could say anything like Dad never said anything about this kind of thing happening, whatever it is. “It’s like something’s tearing at the fabric of reality, only that doesn’t make sense.”
“If that’s so... then there’s someone who might be able to help.”
Gabriel frowned in confusion until he realized who she meant. “Atropos.”
She smiled and vanished.
Gabriel sighed and conjured himself a recliner and a big mug of cocoa. Then, after fortifying himself with the chocolate, he closed his eyes and tried to feel out the cause of the disturbance. It didn’t take long for him to find it. He just... couldn’t quite make sense of it. He thought he knew every being Dad had created, but these....
These were... evil incarnate.
He was still trying to figure out what he was seeing when Kali returned with Atropos. He took Atropos’s hand and fed it into her.
She sighed wearily. “I suspected as much.”
“What ARE they?”
She conjured herself a chair of her own and sat. “They’re leviathans, Loki. Yahweh locked them away in Purgatory long before the rest of us came along.”
“Why are they disturbing us now?” he asked, spreading his hands. “What in all the hells is going on?”
“It’s a long story, but the short version is... the angels finally managed to do what humanity couldn’t quite. They opened the wrong doors one time too many.”
“So how do we fix it?”
“Honestly, Loki, I’m not sure if we can. I mean, one of the fault lines runs all the way back to 1861. But...” She paused and thought for a moment. “No, it might not be too late after all. But there are two humans who are at the center of all this; we need to involve them.”
He nodded and stood, changing from his janitor’s jumpsuit to his usual clothing with a thought. “All right, point me in their direction. We’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Don’t think you’re going anywhere without me,” Kali stated.
Gabriel smiled and pulled her close. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Atropos stood and took Gabriel’s other hand. Then she chanted something in Greek, and suddenly they were standing outside a shabby motel, next to a sleek black ’67 Impala.
Gabriel whistled. “Sharp car....”
“Sharp hunters,” Atropos returned. “Though they’re not feeling so sharp right now; the shockwaves are doing a number on both of them.”
“Shall we?” Kali smiled.
Gabriel smiled back and marched up to the door of the motel room, rapping out a quick shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits. It was opened by a grizzled man with a beard.
Gabriel might be deep undercover, but he wasn’t so far cut off from Heaven that he couldn’t recognize the man or the two younger men in the room behind him. He was surprised, but hid it swiftly. “Bobby Singer?”
“Who wants t’know?” the man growled.
“This is Atropos, this is Kali, and you can call me Loki. We’d like a word.”
“Then say your piece.”
“It concerns the Winchesters. They need to hear it, and we need to get out of this parking lot before we attract attention. Three gods in one place gets kind of conspicuous, if you know what I mean.”
Dean looked at them. “Tres? Dejarlos entrar, Bobby.”
Bobby looked over his shoulder at Dean for a moment, then sized each of them up before stepping aside to let them in. Gabriel rapped his knuckles on the doorframe as he passed, setting wards that the humans wouldn’t be able to see even if they felt their effect.
Both goddesses looked at him and then grinned. Then they all turned to the Winchesters.
Gabriel glanced around the grungy room and sighed. “This won’t do.” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly the room was much cleaner and had much nicer furnishings, including a recliner for Bobby and a couch where the goddesses and Gabriel seated themselves.
Suddenly Bobby had his gun out. “You’re a Trickster.”
Gabriel held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Easy, Singer. Yes, I am a Trickster, but I’m on your side. And there’s a lot more going on here than Dean getting whacked on the head.”
We listen, Dean signed.
“I’ll let you start,” Gabriel said to Atropos. “You take the what, I’ll take the why.”
Atropos nodded. “Fair enough. Sam, Dean, the symptoms you’re experiencing are the result of a serious disruption in the fabric of space-time.”
They all looked at her, and she suddenly had their full attention.
“I’m afraid, given the nature of the problem, I have to begin at the end. In May of 2013, a race of monsters known as leviathans will manage to trace a young cambion named Jesse Turner. Knowing that the forces of Hell will have already attempted to recruit young Turner to be the Antichrist once before, the leviathans will attack him in force to try to kill him. Turner will attempt to defend himself, but he will have spent too much of his life hiding and will not have perfect control of his powers. The result will be something akin to a supernatural nuclear explosion, but its effect will not be limited to that time and place.
“By then, space-time will be weakened from the opening of a number of interdimensional rifts that should never have opened at all. The blast in 2013 will send shockwaves back to a period of significant instability and will essentially mean that the year from May 2010 to May 2011... repeats itself, but with different events. Space-time will buckle and compress, so that a year’s time will both pass and not pass. The shockwaves from that buckling are what we’re feeling now.”
“Wieso?” Dean was back to German again.
“One of the reasons for the instability is that certain humans and certain angels have been meddling in the past. Most of the trips have resulted in closed causality loops, and the only one that resulted in a significant change in history has been undone. But time travel of that sort still bends space-time in a way that it was not meant to bend, and those weaknesses-fault lines, really-cannot be unmade. All of them pass through this year... and your lives in particular.”
“I’ll be 27 in 2010,” Sam suddenly said. “That’s why I think I am, isn’t it?”
“Likely,” Atropos nodded. “And it would account for any memories you might have of things that haven’t happened yet.”
Sam nodded firmly.
“It might... also account for out-of-character behavior,” she added quietly. “You will spend that first part of the loop without your soul.”
Bobby’s eyes went huge and snapped to Sam. “That’s why you act like John!”
Gabriel laughed in spite of himself. “John Winchester did have a soul!”
“That’s not what I mean, you idjit Trickster. I meant that John operated on intellect alone. He shut down all his emotions except revenge after Mary was murdered.”
“Ah. Well, there you do have a point. Without a soul, Sam won’t be capable of experiencing the full human range of emotions or of reasoning rightly; he’ll be similar to a high-functioning sociopath. And the demon blood won’t help matters any.”
“Demon blood?” all three yelped, even though Dean’s was in Spanish.
“Yeah, this is where I take over the explanation. There’s a specific reason those fault lines intersect your lives: you wouldn’t exist as you are now had certain angels not seen fit to manipulate the past to force your lives to fit a particular narrative. Part of that narrative required a predestination paradox. In 2008, Dean was sent back to 1973, supposedly to gain information about the plan Azazel-that’s the yellow-eyed demon-has for Sam and the kids like him, but the angel who gave the order knew that Dean would try to stop Azazel and in so doing would inadvertently draw the demon’s attention to Mary. Azazel then killed your grandparents and your dad and offered your mom a deal: your dad’s life for permission to enter your house in ten years’ time.
“Now, the reason he needed that permission was that Lucifer had charged him with finding a ‘special child’ and infecting that child with demon blood on the night he turned six months old. Luci wants Sam specifically, but he couldn’t tell Azazel that, so Azazel’s been infecting a select few out of each generation. The demon blood produces psychic powers, but it can also result in anger that puts ’roid rage to shame.”
“Yarost,” Dean muttered, glaring at Sam.
“I’m not drinking it anymore!” Sam roared back, then blinked. “Wait, what?! Why the hell did I say that?”
Gabriel just nodded. “Yep. That’s part of the plan-get you hooked on drinking the stuff to amplify your powers and keep you from thinking straight so that you can be goaded into killing Lilith and letting Luci out of his cage.”
“Why are you shootin’ straight with us?” Bobby demanded.
“Because we have to fix this now before the whole damn universe implodes.”
“So how the hell do we fix THIS?” Sam erupted.
“Simple,” said Kali. “We kill Azazel.”
“Good luck there,” Sam scoffed, back to ‘John, Jr.’
“Your father may have relinquished the Colt, but that is hardly the only weapon capable of the task.” She drew a scimitar out of the air and twirled it with seeming carelessness.
Sam was instantly fascinated.
“Kali’s right,” stated Atropos. “Killing Azazel won’t undo the damage to the past, but it will change the future enough to stabilize the present.”
Will stop Sammy’s shifts? Dean signed.
“I can’t promise, but it should. If Azazel dies now, the chain of events that leads to Sam’s soulless year and a half won’t be triggered.”
“But the demon blood?” Bobby asked.
“He’ll still have it, unfortunately. But because the infection is tied to Azazel, the effect will be lessened significantly, and the visions will most likely cease. And again, the chain of events leading to the addiction will be broken. Sam should go back to what you know as normal.”
Do it, signed Dean.
“We’ll need your help,” said Gabriel.
Dean and Sam nodded.
Gabriel nodded back. “Here’s the plan.”
Sam checked the contents of the duffle one last time before leaving the car. He still remembered the list of ingredients John had asked him to get from Bobby, and everything was in place.
The goddesses were hidden and the Trickster was - somewhere.
Dean was back at the motel with Bobby. His balance had started to go shortly after he began slipping into Czech, of all languages. Besides, this was going to work better with Dean not being in the immediate vicinity.
“It’ll work, Dean,” Bobby smiled.
“Hoffentlich,” Dean whispered, barely able to stand the sound of his own voice. “Ich... ich will nicht ihn verlieren, Bobby. Was würde ich ohne ihn tun?”
“You won’t lose him, boy. He’ll come back to us.”
Dean just nodded miserably and tried to fall asleep.
Bobby let him, keeping watch with one eye on the phone and the other on the clock.
Meanwhile, Sam finished the sigil and counted mentally. He struck the match, touched it to the bowl, and recited the incantation.
The fire flared... and there he was, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Howdy, Sam.”
“Hi,” Sam said, smirking as he dropped his bombshell. “Azazel.”
Azazel raised an eyebrow. “You got smart awful fast. How do you know my name?”
He smirked. “An anomaly popped up in my bloodwork. Seems my blood’s not completely human,” he gave the cover story they’d come up with. “And I did research and found out the denizens of Hell and your name was pretty prominent.”
Azazel inclined his head. “So why’d you summon me? You just want to kill me on principle? Or send me home? Good luck with either one.”
“Neither one. I wanna know why my blood is like it is. I wanna know what happened with my dad.”
“Do you?” Azazel began to circle Sam. “Why this sudden curiosity? Why do you care what John did? I killed him just like I had your precious little Jessica killed. Isn’t that all that matters?”
“I care because the Colt went missing just after and that’s too big of a coincidence. Why did you kill my mom? Why did you kill my dad? Why did you kill Jessica? Why the hell am I so special that you gotta kill everyone I love?”
Azazel shook his head. “Sam, Sam, Sam. You always were my favorite. Here, let me show you a little something.”
Sam waited. And a sudden headache drove him to his knees-followed by a vision of Azazel standing over a crib, chanting quietly, then slicing open a vein and dripping blood into a baby’s mouth. The baby began to cry as its eyes flashed gold... and then....
“Oh, G-d,” Sam sobbed. “... that’s me.... What the hell did you DO to me?”
“Better than mother’s milk,” Azazel purred. “I gave you strength, Sam, and power you’ve barely begun to taste. We need you.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Hell, Sam. We need someone to lead the army in the coming war.”
“Is that why you did this to me? To make me a - a general for HELL?”
“Oh, no. Not just that. Sam... if I’m right about you, you are so incredibly special, you have no idea. You aren’t just our leader... you’re the chosen one.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “You sure love talkin’ in riddles. Try speaking plainly.”
“Lucifer, Sam. If I’m right-and I do believe I am-you... are Lucifer’s vessel.”
Those narrow eyes went huge. “... WHAT?” he roared, looking decidedly sick.
“You’re from a rare bloodline, Sam-two rare bloodlines, to be honest-and the fact that you’re the second son is rarer still. You and Dean, you’re the keys. You can start this Apocalypse... and with you, Lucifer will win it all. Dean will never accept Michael; the angels will have to find him a lesser vessel who’d be no match for you even now.”
“I don’t get a say in this?”
Azazel shrugged. “Of course you get a say. Lucifer’s still an angel, y’know, and angels can’t possess humans without permission. But you’ll say yes.”
“I’d rather serve you than him.”
Azazel blinked. “Come again?”
“I would rather serve you than him.”
Azazel stared at him for a moment. “What exactly are you proposing, Sammy?”
“That if this blood makes me so damn special, and if I have to serve someone, I’d rather serve the devil I know than the real Devil.”
“... I work for Lucifer, Sam. I just told you that.”
Sam growled and seemed to slump. He crouched down, his arms dangling between his legs.
“However... I’m willing to... keep an open mind. Name your price.”
He looked up at Azazel. “You leave Dean and Bobby alone.”
Azazel scoffed. “Aiming low, Sam. What else?”
“What else is there?”
“Oh, come on. There’s some other reason you called me.” He studied Sam for a moment. “Something’s wrong with Dean, is that it?”
Sam’s breathing quickened. “... he-he can’t talk right.”
“Can’t talk right? What do you mean?”
“His brain’s been damaged. He can’t speak English and can’t control what language he’s talking in.”
Azazel raised an eyebrow. “You know, your dad didn’t try to bargain with me until Dean was on his deathbed.”
“And Dean thinks he killed Dad because of that,” Sam snorted. Following the idea that just ‘snapped’ into his head, he added, “But not before he told Dean that if he couldn’t save me he’d have to kill me.”
Azazel’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Did he, now? You think Dean will pose a problem if you do pledge your loyalty to me? He always was Daddy’s good little soldier.”
“I know.” Sam put all the disgust of ‘soullessness’ into his voice. “Drives me insane.”
“So why do you want me to heal him?”
“He’s m’brother.” Sam raised his chin. “And I love him.”
“He’s a liability, Sam.”
“How so?”
“You know what he’s like. And even if he does go along with us, he’s your Achilles heel. All the angels would have to do is take him.”
Sam’s eyes closed and he slumps again with a defeated sigh. “I can’t friggin’ win.”
“Ah. I haven’t said no yet.”
Sam raised devastated eyes to him.
“I just want to make sure I’ve got your terms clear. I heal Dean and make sure he and Bobby are left alone, and you’ll pledge your absolute obedience to me and only me. Is that right?”
“Only you. Nobody above you or below you.”
Azazel nodded thoughtfully. “An unusual deal. I’ll need a moment to consider it.”
“Please,” Sam whispered. “I can’t live in this tension anymore.”
And a bowstring twanged from the shadows, and then the demon had an arrow sticking out of his chest, hellfire sparking around the edges of the wound.
Sam stood and watched, smirking.
Azazel’s mouth worked in silent shock before he wheezed, “Y-you....”
But he was cut off by another arrow.
“By the way,” Sam said to the dying demon, “You’ve been conned.”
“Wh-h-how....”
“Why, Azazel... haven’t you learned by now?” the blonde woman with glasses stepped out from around Sam. She smiled at him. “You need to stop trying to control Fate.”
While Azazel struggled for an adequate response to that, a silver sword shimmered into Sam’s right hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged it deep into the demon’s heart and twisted it.
Azazel’s eyes went huge and he seemed to fold in on himself.
“That’s for my mother,” Sam snarled and jerked the sword out again, then watched dispassionately as the demon fell, burning from within.
Kali and Loki walked up. “You doin’ okay there, Samwise?” Loki asked.
Sam looked at him. Then back down to the demon. “And for Dad,” he whispered. “And for Jess.”
Then he swayed, dropped the sword, and collapsed. Gabriel just managed to catch him before he hit the ground.
“... what the...” Kali gasped.
“He’ll be all right,” Atropos said quietly. “Space-time’s knitting itself back together, but since Sam’s suffered such significant effects from the disturbance, he’ll be unconscious until both space-time and his psyche have sorted themselves out.”
“Where’d he get that sword?”
“That,” said Loki, “is a professional secret, toots.” And he, Sam, and the sword vanished.
Kali groaned. “I HATE it when he does that.”
Atropos sighed and shook her head.
Dean shot to his feet - and nearly overbalanced - when Gabriel appeared cradling Sam. “SAMMY!” he yelped.
“Easy, Dean,” Gabriel replied. “It’s done. He’ll be fine when he wakes up.”
“¿Cuando será que?” Dean demanded, his voice shaking.
“When everything is fixed. Lie down.” And Gabriel moved toward the other side of Dean’s bed.
Dean was yelling at him. Every word was a different language.
Gabriel gently lowered Sam onto the bed. “I said lie down, squirt.”
Dean gestured at Gabriel, but his legs just wouldn’t hold him any longer.
With a sigh, Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Dean found himself in bed beside Sam. “He is FINE, Dean. Go back to sleep.”
Dean curled up and put a hand over Sam’s heart and only then did he sleep.
Gabriel shook his head in fond annoyance and walked back around the bed. “I’m not a healer, Singer,” he said without looking at Bobby, “but I’ll do what I can for him.” Then he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair, sending subtle waves of power into the young man’s head.
Dean whimpered.
“Shh. It’s okay, Deano.”
“... hurrrrz....”
Bobby’s eyes flew wide open.
“It’s okay,” Gabriel repeated.
Dean whimpered again and then went still and silent.
Gabriel caressed the top of his head again and then stepped away from the bed.
“... that... that was English,” Bobby gasped. “That was English!”
“Yeah. It was. He’s probably still gonna have a headache when he wakes up, but....”
“But you’ve got him back speaking English....”
Gabriel shrugged. “It’s a start.”
“A start?”
“Bobby, I told you, I’m not a healer. I don’t know how much damage will be left.”
“But Sam - Sam will wake up.”
“Yeah, he will. His brain just needs to sort out what memories are his and what bled through from the timeline we’ve just averted.”
“And then Dean will wake up and we’ll see what’s left.”
“Right.” Gabriel paused. “It is a good sign that he’s speaking English... though if you wanted....” He trailed off with a devious grin.
“What?” Bobby demanded.
“I don’t have to put him all the way back to normal.”
Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
“Oh, I’d restore him to full health, don’t worry. And English would still be his native and default. But how many languages did he curse me out in?”
Bobby rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, mentally counting. He blinked at Gabriel. “Ten.”
Gabriel replied with an eyebrow waggle worthy of Groucho Marx.
“Are you sayin’ you wanna leave him a polyglot?”
“Bingo.”
Bobby began to laugh softly. “That would actually help us out. Huh - a Trickster wanting to help us.”
“Ah. You caught me on a good day.”
“So long as English is his default and he doesn’t lose it again.” Bobby smiled and shook his head. “John would kill me.”
Gabriel chuckled. “Nah, I’m not that cruel. I reserve the right to use the mute button on ’im, though.”
“No.”
“Aw, come on. It wouldn’t be permanent even if I did.”
Bobby just looked at him.
“Oh, fine. Only in extreme emergencies when his life depends on shutting up for five seconds.”
Bobby chuckled. “I’m actually starting to like you.”
That caught Gabriel off-guard for a second. “Really? Funny... I’m starting to like you mooks, too.”
“So let’s see how Dean is when he wakes up and go from there.”
Just then Sam stirred, rolled over, snuggled closer to Dean, and stilled again. Seconds later he was snoring softly.
Gabriel’s eyebrows rose.
Bobby smiled a little. “Oh, yeah. Sam will be fine.”
“So that’s natural for him?”
“Maybe not since he left for college, but when they were little, they’d curl up together like that all the time.”
Gabriel nodded and watched the brothers sleep.
They were still asleep when Kali and Atropos returned. Gabriel smiled at them.
“I have disposed of the corpse,” Kali informed him.
“Good,” Gabriel nodded. He looked at Atropos. “And the demon inside is truly gone.”
Atropos gave him a knowing look. “Yes, it’s gone. And I still have the job Yahweh gave me, and I seriously doubt anyone will be letting the leviathans out for at least the next decade.”
He nodded. “Then I think our job here is mostly done.”
“Mostly?” the goddesses chorused.
“It’ll be completely done when these two muttonheads are okay again.” He paused. “And there’s someone else I need to talk to.” He hugged Kali. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
Kali huffed. “You’ll see me when I want you to.” But she kissed him before she vanished.
He turned back to Atropos. “Thank you, Milady.”
“And thank you... Loki.” She gave him that knowing look again before leaving.
With that, he turned to Bobby.
“You stickin’ around?” Bobby asked.
“In a while. I want to make sure these mooks are okay, like I said.” He snapped his fingers and vanished.
Bobby sighed, somewhat at a loss as to what to make of it all. Then he went over to the bed and drew the covers over his sleeping boys.
When Gabriel returned, he was smiling.
Bobby raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“His mind is waking up.” Gabriel put a hand on Dean’s forehead and raised the other one. “I’m waking him up now.”
“Ge’y’r damn han’offm’head,” Dean grumbled into Sam’s shoulder.
Gabriel chuckled and snapped his fingers. Then he winked at Bobby and vanished.
Dean turned enough to squint one eye at Bobby. “Is he gone?”
“He’s gone.”
“’S it over?”
“When Sam wakes up, we’ll know.”
Dean nodded.
“How you doing?”
Dean groaned. “Habe noch ’ne Kopf... schmerz. Um. Did... did I just speak German?”
“You did,” Bobby groaned.
“’Cause that sounded like German.”
His eyes widened. “You can hear the difference now? Did you do that on purpose?”
“I can hear the difference, but I didn’t do it on purpose... it’s like the thought just formed that way, and that’s how it came out.”
Bobby snarled out, “He said English would be your default.”
“It is, it’s just... hell, don’t tell me your gears don’t stick when you’ve been translatin’ too long.”
Staring at him in disbelief, Bobby suddenly chuckled and Dean could see him relax. “Point taken.”
Dean managed a weak smile. “Good. Café, por favor.”
“A la mesa, idioto.”
Dean groaned again and started to roll away from Sam.
Sam protested.
Dean immediately stopped and rolled back to him. “Sammy?”
His eyes slowly opened.
“Hey. You okay in there, dude?”
“... Dean?”
“Yeah.”
“I can understand you....”
“You should. I’m speakin’ English.”
Sam laughed softly.
“How are you?”
“My head hurts.”
“Really? That makes two of us.”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one concussed.”
“Dude, you got whammied with four years of memories that hadn’t happened yet. I think you’ve got a reason.”
Sam hummed and closed his eyes.
“Speakin’ of memories....”
“Yeah?”
Dean swallowed, unsure how to ask his question. “You... remember Stanford now?”
A slight smile curved his lips. “Yeah.”
“You remember how old you are?”
“Dude, I’m 23.”
“And... the demon chick?”
Sam shivered, his eyes opening. “Doesn’t exist.”
Dean let out a quiet sigh of relief, his head tilting forward a little so that his forehead met Sam’s. “Awesome.”
“That future... it’s gone.”
A tear slipped down Dean’s cheek.
Sam frowned, reaching up. “Hey... what’s this?”
Dean sounded wrecked when he whispered, “The last thing Dad said to me... he s-said....”
“I know. That was.... That was in the memories. You told me eventually.”
“But if that future’s gone, then... then it doesn’t matter. You’re safe.”
“I’m safe.” Sam beamed. “And you’re safe.”
Another tear slipped out. “Sammy, you have no idea... it’s been killing me to keep this from you, to even have to think about having to kill you.”
“Wait, what?” Bobby yelped. “KILL him?”
Dean nodded, but Sam replied for him. “Dad told Dean that if he couldn’t save me, he’d have to kill me. Guess he knew more about the demon blood than he told anyone.”
Bobby shook his head. “That damned fool!”
“Bobby, it’s over,” Dean said. “Nothin’s coming for us now. Nothin’s gonna turn Sam darkside. So can we just... get over our headaches and maybe go on vacation or something?”
“I’ll get the aspirin.”
“And my coffee?” That came out a little whinier than Dean intended.
“And your coffee, whiny brat,” Bobby teased.
Dean snorted and dredged up an insult in Japanese.
Bobby shot back in kind and then headed to the bathroom to get the aspirin.
When Dean turned back, Sam was staring at him with eyes so wide he had a wild mental image of them rolling out of their sockets and rolling away screaming.
“What?”
“You... j-just....”
Dean smirked.
Sam’s jaw lowered as realization seemed to slam into him. “Omig-d!” he gasped. “You’re - You’re still a polyglot!”
“I’ll polyglot you,” Dean grumbled good-naturedly-in English this time.
“And you still....” Sam suddenly grabbed him and hugged him.
“Gah! Concussion!” But Dean hugged him back.
Bobby returned with the pills and coffee.
“Okay, you giant girl, lemme breathe,” Dean rumbled into Sam’s ear.
Sam pulled back, grinning so large his dimples were showing.
Dean smiled back wearily. “We good?”
“We’re good.”
Dean patted Sam’s shoulder, rolled onto his back, and eased himself upright with a groan. Bobby handed him the aspirin, which he took with a grateful nod and washed down with the coffee.
Sam took some, too.
“I’m serious, dude,” Dean said after he finished his mug of coffee. “Let’s go to the Grand Canyon. Go back to New York, look up Sarah, see if she’s still single. Hell, there’s a chick in Indiana I’d love to see again-yoga instructor, Lisa Braeden. Bendiest weekend of my life.”
Sam held up a hand. “I don’t want to know any more about that weekend, thank you.” Then he found himself frowning deeply. “On second thought, seeing her is a good thing.”
Dean frowned. “Why?”
“You were there nearly eight years ago, right?”
Dean’s frown deepened. “Dude, what are you ‘remembering’? You’re not-” His eyes went wide. “You’re not saying... I’ve got a kid?!”
Sam shrugged. “Little boy.”
Dean’s eyes slid shut as he cursed quietly in Russian. “How’d we find out? Something come after them?”
“Yeah. ’Bout a year from now.”
Dean exhaled slowly. “Okay. So we got time to hit the Grand Canyon first.”
Sam laughed. “We got time.”
Dean looked over at him then. “Would... would you be okay? I mean, settling down, retiring? Maybe you could even go back to school-Cicero’s not that far from Indianapolis.”
“And what would I major in?” Sam spread his hands. “Dude, that ship SAILED.”
“So? I just... I am so incredibly tired, Sam, and it’s not just the concussion. But I don’t know if I can quit without you.”
“And I don’t know if I can quit hunting all together. It’s like you said awhile back - it’s like Dad wants us to pick up where he left off.”
“So... maybe we compromise. Weekend hunts, that kind of thing. I can’t just let you take off alone.”
Sam smiled. “And I don’t think you’re tired of hunting. You told me once you’d not last a month in ‘normal’ without trying to blow your brains out. I think you’re tired of the weight Dad put on you. Dean - that weight’s GONE.”
Dean shook his head. “No, dude. I mean, yeah, the whole ‘save you or kill you’ bit, that’s gone, but... Dad made a damn deal to save my life. Hell, I should have died back in April when I got electrocuted. That doesn’t just go away, Sam.”
“Then allow me to ease your burden,” a strange voice said.
Three heads snapped to face the new arrival. “Who the hell are you?” Dean growled.
“My name is Castiel,” the stranger nodded.
“And what the hell are you?”
“I am an angel of the Lord,” the man with the unnatural-looking blue eyes answered.
“There’s...” no such thing, Dean started to say before he remembered what Atropos and Loki had said. “Why are you here?”
“To speak to you, Dean. You carry twin burdens unnecessarily.”
“What do you mean?”
“May I sit?”
“Sure,” Sam replied before Dean could object. “Here, let me-” He started to get up, but a wave of vertigo forced him to sink back down on the bed.
Castiel sat beside him and nodded. “You will be all right.” He turned to Dean. “You bear the burden of thinking you are on borrowed time.”
“I am. Two people have died for me.”
“And more have been saved by the fact you exist.”
Dean’s gaze fell to his lap. “That won’t bring back Dad. Or Mom.”
“No. But they are together now.”
Dean looked up, frowning in confusion-then frowned deeper as his fists clenched. “No. No, don’t you dare tell me Mom’s in Hell.”
Castiel frowned, then his eyes went wide in comprehension. “No, of course not! I am telling you that when Azazel was destroyed, his deals were undone as the threads unraveled. We were able to rescue your father from Hell, and he is with Mary Campbell Winchester in Heaven.”
Anger faded back into confusion as Dean’s fists relaxed. “What? But-how-why....”
“It was a holy deal with an unholy creature - and thus able to be undone.”
Sam frowned. “A holy deal?”
“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “One made from the strongest of loves - that sacrificial love of a parent for a child.”
Dean searched Castiel’s face. “You got Dad out... but... why? Why do you care?”
“I ... do not understand.”
“Good things don’t just happen. Not to us.”
“They do. All the time. You are just too blinded by grief and depression to see them.”
Dean scoffed.
“And about the repair with your heart-”
Dean looked at him.
“It truly was not your time to go. The man the Reaper killed is in Heaven with his family.”
Dean’s voice shook a little as he asked, “What about Layla? She believed.”
A smile touched the angel’s lips. “Layla lives.”
Dean’s eyes went wide. “She... does?”
“She does. She is happily married and currently pregnant with twins.”
“But....”
“Yes?”
“The... the brain cancer....”
“It was never cancer. She was misdiagnosed.”
Dean’s mouth fell open.
“She moved from her mother, got a second opinion, and found it is smaller than she was told and benign.”
Dean managed to close his mouth before running a shaking hand over it, fighting tears.
Castiel put a hand on his arm. “She LIVES, Dean.”
Dean’s eyes closed, and he swallowed convulsively.
The angel waited.
“Why?” Dean finally croaked. “Why me? Why us? What’s so damn special about this family?”
Sam opened his mouth, but Castiel answered. “You are descendants of hunters that stretch back to the foundation of this country - and before. You have a fabled and strong bloodline that makes you attractive to the supernatural.”
Dean frowned. “Dad was from a family of mechanics.”
“The Campbells are hunters.”
Both brothers stared at Castiel.
“Your mother left the life to marry your father.”
“So that’s what he meant,” Sam whispered.
“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “That’s what he meant.”
“Wait,” Dean demanded. “That’s what who meant?”
“Loki,” Sam said. “A Trickster who healed us.”
Dean’s eyes slipped shut. “I’m gonna blame this on the concussion, but I have no damn clue what you’re talking about, Sam.”
Sam told him the short version of what Azazel had said.
Dean frowned a little, even with his eyes closed. “Well, there’s gotta be something special about Dad’s line, too, then....” Then he snorted. “Hell, I’m just makin’ my headache worse tryin’ to make sense of all this.”
Sam looked at Castiel, who gazed back at him. Then Sam took a deep breath. “Dad’s bloodline makes us - specially adapted - to helping people. Apparently we... we heal faster than normal people.”
Dean’s eyes opened just enough to let him glare at Sam. “You know more than you’re telling, and one day I will get it out of you.”
“All right, fine,” Sam sighed. “It also makes us super-attractive to two major players of the Apocalypse in the future-that-was-wiped-out. But that’s a moot point now.”
“Your brother is correct,” Castiel said. “And that is the entire truth of it.”
Dean sighed and let his eyes close again. “Swell. So can we take our damn vacation or not?”
“In the morning.” He leaned forward and brushed his hand over the top of Dean’s head. “For tonight, rest.”
Dean sighed again, sagged, and slowly tilted sideways until his head came to rest on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam looked at him, then up at Castiel.
“He will rest now.” The angel turned to Bobby. “As for you....”
“Yeah?” Bobby returned.
“John Winchester may be gone.” He stood. “But they do not lack a father. Thanks to you. Be blessed.”
“I am,” Bobby breathed. “Every damn day.”
A nod, and the three were alone.
Bobby let out a long, slow exhale. “Well. You hungry, Sam?”
“Actually, Bobby? I think I’d like to just rest here awhile.” Sam beamed. “We’ve got a trip to the Grand Canyon to set out on tomorrow.”
“I meant carry-outs, idjit,” Bobby replied with a smile.
Sam smiled, his eyes slowly closing. “Sure. Anything.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a few.” And Bobby slipped out quietly, sending a silent prayer of thanks to a God who apparently did exist after all.
Sam curled up with his sleeping brother and his last thought before sleep submerged him was a prayer of sheer gratitude that they were both finally and permanently safe - and that his memories of four years of hell were now nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
Next