The Grandfather Paradox 3/?
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Chapter 3
Reeling in the Years
The car was almost silent as Castiel finished his tale, aside from Mary weeping quietly into John’s shoulder. John looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or kill something. And Henry... was just baffled, though his heart felt like a baseball with the cover knocked off.
Finally, John shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, as if his voice were protesting being used. “But all this... what guarantee do we have that any of it’s true? How do we know you are who you say you are?”
“You can’t know,” Castiel said simply, reminding Henry of a book he’d never gotten to read to John, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. “You can only believe-or not. But I can give you one further token, if I may, if Mary will move aside.”
Mary sniffled and scooted back a little way.
“Thank you,” Castiel told her. Then he reached across the seat to touch a point on John’s right side. “This is where you were wounded.”
John acknowledged the statement with a slight nod.
Castiel put both hands over that spot and pulled, causing John to gasp. “Hold out your hands.”
Bewildered, John held out his hands, cupped together. Castiel moved his own fists over John’s and released a double handful of dull grey shards.
Mary gasped. “Is that shrapnel?”
“Yes.” Castiel began sifting through the pile. “Most of the pieces would either have worked their way out on their own or become lodged in places where they could do no significant damage.” Then he pulled out one narrow, jagged piece that looked like a particularly nasty flechette, still bearing a reddish tinge. “But this one would eventually have found your heart. It would not be enough to kill on its own, but the damage it would cause would be enough to put you at risk of a fatal heart attack.” With that, he immolated it, ending that threat to John’s life forever.
There was a stunned pause before Henry asked quietly, “So now that you’ve told us... what do we do? How do we stop it?”
“The future is already changing,” Castiel replied. “Lilith cannot escape from Hell unless the Devil’s Gate is opened, and the only way that will happen is if Meg or some other demon takes up where Azazel left off. Without Lilith, Lucifer’s cage cannot be opened. But I have no way of knowing whether Meg will try again in this generation-the future is still too unsettled to be foreseen.”
Henry shot a worried look at the kids; Mary had accepted the mess of shrapnel from John and was curled against his chest once more. “Well, then... I hate to ask, but... should John and Mary not marry?”
Castiel shook his head. “No, they must wed. Their union was predestined. No effort has been spared to bring them together.”
John’s arms tightened around Mary even as he closed his eyes in evident relief.
“What is imperative,” Castiel continued, “is ensuring that neither John nor Mary can be forced into a deal. For that, we’ll need the assistance of the Men of Letters.”
“How?” John asked. “They’re all dead.”
“Not all. Larry Ganem lives.”
“What?!” the humans all gasped.
“He assumed the identity of the commander of his brother’s infantry unit in the First World War. The other man is dead and was buried under Larry’s name. Larry is now in Lebanon, Kansas, awaiting Henry’s return. He will be able to tell you of a place where you three may dwell in safety until the danger is past.”
“Where in Lebanon?” Henry asked.
Castiel hesitated. “I believe I should come with you. I can give you directions once we reach the town.”
Mary sniffled and wiped her cheek on her shoulder. “We can’t go back to Lawrence, though, can we?”
Castiel shook his head again. “It would be too dangerous. I’m sorry.”
John drew in a deep breath. “I... b-before we go, I need to make a phone call. Shouldn’t take... five minutes.”
“All right,” Castiel allowed. “But your father should go with you.”
Henry nodded. “Let’s go, son.”
John rubbed Mary’s back a little, and she finally sat up again and slid over toward her door. Then John and Henry got out and walked over to a pay phone that stood outside the mall. While Henry kept an eye out for unexpected company, John picked up the phone, put in a few coins, and dialed.
“Mom?”
The question startled Henry-but then he realized it shouldn’t have. Of course John wouldn’t be willing to disappear without at least bidding Millie farewell.
“Hi. ... Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry about that. I would have called sooner, but.... Look, Mom, something’s happened. I, um... me and Mary, we’re with Pops. ... I-I know-will you let me finish? ... He’s-he’s fine. It’s complicated. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. ... Mom! ... Something’s happened, and-the three of us, we’re probably gonna have to go into Witness Protection for a while. ... No, ma’am, I don’t. I can’t tell you anything. I’m sorry. I... I just... would you give Mr. Woodson my regrets? ... I-I dunno. I’m sorry. ... Love you, too, Mom. Bye.” John hung up the phone quietly and took a moment to collect himself before stepping out of the booth.
“Mr. Woodson?” Henry asked.
John took a deep breath and let it out again. “He runs a garage there in Lawrence. I... was supposed to have an interview with him on Monday.”
Henry put a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, son. I’m proud of you.”
John lost his composure at that, and Henry pulled him into a hug until the sobs subsided.
“Think you’re good to drive now?” Henry asked at last.
John sniffled, nodded, and stepped back, spine ramrod straight-all Marine, all business. “Yes, sir.”
“All right, then. Let’s get out of here.”
Once they were back in the car, John took a moment to have Mary help him get his bearings and plot a course. Then they headed north out of Topeka, past the Nebraska state line, and stopped at the Pawnee County Courthouse so the kids could get married right away. Both of them wept for what might have been, as did Henry, but somehow Castiel’s presence made even their tiny civil ceremony seem divinely blessed.
The detour added an hour or two to the drive time, but they still reached Lebanon in time for a late lunch. After they ate, Castiel gave John directions to a two-story house on the eastern end of town. Here Henry took the lead, marched up to the door, and pushed the doorbell.
The woman who answered the door was indeed Larry’s wife, and she gasped loudly at seeing Henry.
“Afternoon, Meredith,” Henry said with a wry smile. “Is Larry home?”
Meredith drew in a ragged breath and stepped aside, beckoning to the travelers. “Come in. Come in.”
Henry led the way into the living room, where Larry sat in a wingback chair with a white-knuckled grip on its arms, eyes wide but unseeing. “Can it be?” Larry asked quietly. “After all these years... can it be?”
“Hi, Larry,” Henry said with a small smile, stepping up to the chair. “It’s Henry Winchester.”
“Henry....” Larry held up his trembling right hand. “L-let me see you?”
“Sure.” Henry knelt beside the chair and guided Larry’s hand to his cheek, holding still as his mentor’s fingers gingerly swept over his features.
Larry drew a ragged breath and closed his eyes. “Thank God. Thank God! I knew you’d gotten out alive somehow. But-but how? Why, you haven’t aged a day.”
“I would love to tell you all about it, my friend, but we may not have much time.”
“I understand. Do you still have the box?”
“I do.”
“Inside the box is the key to everything the Men of Letters have collected for a thousand years. And the collection’s in the safest place on earth, warded against every evil thing, impervious to any entry except with the key.”
Henry sighed in relief. “Wonderful. How do I get there?”
Larry felt for a notepad on the end table beside his chair, pulled it over to the arm of the chair, and wrote a series of numbers on it. Then he tore off the top page and held it out to Henry, who took it. “Take the key to these coordinates. But you must promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“When you get there, throw the key inside, lock the door, and walk away.”
Henry felt himself go pale. “No. I-I can’t do that.”
Larry found Henry’s shoulder without much difficulty. “Henry, listen to me. We cannot let Abaddon have the knowledge that’s stored in that place.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
The others had hung back, but now Castiel, clearly impatient, stepped forward to stand beside Henry. “There is little risk of Abaddon finding us here.”
Larry’s eyes went wide. “Who’s that?”
“This is the angel Castiel,” Henry replied. “He helped me find you.”
Larry nodded slowly, then shook his head decisively. “Little risk is not no risk, Castiel. Abaddon must not get that key.”
“Larry, you don’t understand. My children need protection, training in the ways of the Letters! If this place is so safe, we can stay there-you could even come with us, help us.”
Larry shook his head even more emphatically. “No, no, no. It’s too dangerous. This house may be watched-”
With an annoyed huff, Castiel pressed two fingers to the center of Larry’s forehead, sending him instantly into a deep sleep.
Meredith gasped and hurried forward. “What did you do?!”
For answer, Castiel pressed his fingers to the center of her forehead, and she sagged backward into John’s arms, likewise deeply asleep.
“What was that for?” John asked as he and Mary hustled Meredith onto the couch.
“A necessary precaution,” Castiel replied. “They will not remember our visit when they wake. Let’s go.”
“He could have helped us,” Henry protested as he stood.
Castiel stepped closer to Henry, their noses less than an inch apart as the angel’s unblinking blue eyes bored into Henry’s. “No one must know we were here. No one, not even the staunchest potential ally, can be trusted-not until the plan for John’s children has been stopped. Even those whom demons cannot reach, the other angels could still use against us.”
Mary took a deep breath and said, “So we really are in Witness Protection.”
Castiel took a step backward and turned to her. “After a fashion, yes. Even I am.”
John settled a blanket over Meredith and straightened. “All right, then. Let’s go check out the safest place on earth.”
“I’m sure you two know how to locate coordinates on a map,” Henry said as the travelers started for the door, “but do you have a map that shows latitude and longitude?”
Before John could answer, Castiel said, “Let me see the coordinates.”
Henry dutifully handed over the paper Larry had given him.
“Huh,” said Castiel. “So great was his fear of discovery, I hadn’t thought he would dare to live so close.”
“What do you mean?”
“This place is only a mile outside the city limits, on the other side of town.”
“May I?” Mary asked before taking the paper from Castiel and blinking. “You’re right. Dad once worked a case in this area, and the coordinates were only a few minutes different from these.”
“Sounds like you’re our navigator, then, Cas,” John said, opening the front door.
Castiel paused mid-stride for a second, looking... wistful? “Yes,” he agreed quietly. “I suppose I am.”
“You don’t... mind that nickname?” Mary asked meekly.
And that was definitely the ghost of a fond smile. “No. No, I don’t mind it at all.”
Henry decided to ask questions later and made sure to lock the door behind him on the way out.
With Castiel-Cas-navigating, John drove out of town to a point near what might be an abandoned power plant. Whatever it was stood high on the hill above their destination, a dingy-looking door set in a bricked archway at the bottom of a short flight of stairs.
“Sure doesn’t look like much from outside,” John noted with a frown as they got out of the car.
“Good camouflage,” Mary noted. “If the Men of Letters didn’t want anyone to know this was here, they wouldn’t want it to look like some grand Masonic temple or anything. Just-”
“The cleft of the rock that shadows a dry, thirsty land,” Henry quoted, a little surprised that the analogy had come to mind.
Cas looked surprised, too, but all he said was, “May Father’s hand truly cover us here.”
Henry drew a deep breath and produced the box that had been hiding in his coat pocket for the better part of a day. It took only a couple of tries to get it open, and then he led the kids down the stairs to the door and tried the key in the lock. The space beyond was dark, but John had thought to bring a flashlight, so Henry let him lead the way inside and locate a fuse box. For his own part, Henry wasn’t sure what to make of the little he could see, but the air smelled remarkably fresh for a place that had been closed up for a decade and a half. And Mary seemed to relax a little, just knowing they were in a safe place.
Cas definitely relaxed. “Good, good,” Henry heard him murmur. “Larry was correct. No evil thing can breach these wards. We’ll be safe here.”
John found the main switch just then and turned on the lights, revealing a command center that probably dated from Henry’s father’s time. That didn’t explain the scent of leather and old books that kept tickling Henry’s nose, however, so he proceeded down the staircase and across the central room to a large open doorway, where he found what he could only describe as a slice of heaven on earth: a fabulous, beautiful library. He couldn’t suppress a gasp of wonder.
“Sweet,” Mary breathed behind him.
“I like this place,” Cas declared, and Henry turned to find the angel looking around with a slight satisfied smile. “It’s orderly.”
“And defensible,” John noted, coming down the stairs to join them. “Think we could survive World War III down here. Just wish it had some windows and a garage.”
Henry frowned a little. “Surely there’s a garage somewhere. It wouldn’t make sense to park on the street, especially if anyone stayed here for any length of time.”
“Guess we ought to try to find it, then, that and a kitchen.”
So the four of them set out on a cursory look through the place, finding not only the kitchen and-after a long search-the garage and its entrance, but also file rooms, laboratories, storage rooms, bedrooms and bathrooms, a laundromat, a gymnasium, and even a firing range. Most of the parking spots in the garage were taken, but there was space enough in the center of the room that John was able to park his car comfortably.
It wasn’t until after supper, cooked from the kitchen’s ample store of non-perishables, that any of the humans realized that they hadn’t brought more with them than the clothes on their backs. And Mary wilted visibly at the thought of having to wear the same clothes for a third day running.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Castiel promised.
Mary nodded and sniffled. “Okay. Thank you.”
Henry ran a hand over his face at the same time John scrubbed wearily at his stubble, and both sighed in unison.
“You kids must be beat,” Henry said. “None of us got much sleep last night. Why don’t we go choose bedrooms?”
The kids nodded, and after clearing the dishes, the Winchesters left Castiel in the kitchen and headed back to the bedroom wing. After a brief examination of each room, John finally decided on the one at the far end of the hall, and Henry offered to take the one at the opposite end just to give the newlyweds some privacy. Mary nodded her acceptance, trudged into the room John had chosen, and paused at the foot of the bed as she finally broke down.
John went to her and pulled her into a comforting hug. “Shh,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.” After a moment of this, he kissed her tenderly.
And something in the air shifted, as if a spell had been activated.
“John,” Mary gasped raggedly, desperately.
John kissed her again while her mouth was still open, hungrily, passionately. Her hands scrabbled at his back and finally found purchase on his collar. Henry discreetly pulled the door to-and a moment later, he heard fabric tearing.
Disturbed, Henry started down the hall toward the library. It wasn’t that he minded the kids enjoying their wedding night in the usual fashion, though admittedly he was still adjusting to the idea that his little boy was now a grown, married man. But something more than natural passion was at work here.
“Cupids.”
Henry turned to find Cas walking beside him, looking straight ahead. “I’m sorry?”
“Cupids. They’re-”
“The lowest rank of angels, I know. What about them?”
Cas finally turned that intense gaze of his to meet Henry’s eyes. “As I said, no effort was spared to bring John and Mary together. Their hearts bear a cupid’s mark, linking them together body and soul, will they, nill they. Even if they had tried to break up over the knowledge of Lucifer’s plan, sooner or later they would have reunited, with or without the assistance of the angels.” He glanced over his shoulder briefly. “Only death can part them now.”
Henry ran a hand over his mouth, unsure how to react. If the plotting and engineering went that deep....
“I don’t think they need to know that,” Cas continued, lowering his voice. “They may sense that something about their relationship is forced, but it will be far safer for all concerned if we help them to grow together now.”
Henry sighed. “Yes, you’re probably right.” He paused. “I can’t go home now, can I?”
“No. You would not be able to change the course of the last fifteen years. Too much depends on John having to grow up without you. Even if you should return, you would be killed, if not instantly, then very soon. I’m sorry.”
Henry sighed again, more heavily. “I think I may sleep in the library tonight.”
Castiel gave him a pitying look and touched his forehead. He woke ten hours later in a bed, presumably in the bedroom he’d chosen; there was a shaving kit on the dresser, and the closet was filled with clothes that would fit him.
Settling in took most of the summer, and not just in terms of dividing chores and decorating spaces. There were boundary questions to be settled, of course, and questions of what the humans could-and should-be doing during their ten-year seclusion. John nearly came to blows with Cas the first time Cas tried to nix a supply run; Mary finally got John to agree to the compromise of taking Cas with him. The next time John wanted to go out, to take Mary on a date in Mankato, Cas neither objected nor let on that he was tagging along as an invisible bodyguard. Henry, meanwhile, had his hands full trying to sort out some kind of abbreviated training curriculum to bring both kids up to speed on the Letters without requiring the ceremonial side that had delayed Henry’s initiation. He also needed to research what secrets had been withheld from him pending his final initiation, any lore that might be useful in continuing to keep the kids off the radar, and anything they might need to know to live safely in the midst of so many powerful treasures.
By August, however, the family had settled into a routine. Weekday mornings were for lectures and discussions, as well as the occasional presentation Henry assigned to the kids. Afternoons John and Mary studied together while Henry did his own research. And after an early supper, at least three days a week, came sparring lessons. John had a great deal to contribute here, given his Marine training, but Mary also taught both men specific combat techniques for fighting various kinds of monsters. Henry found himself learning quite a lot, as well as gaining musculature he’d never known he had.
John and Mary often went to the gym to spar without Henry, though. And it didn’t take long for him to figure out that if one of their sessions went long, they’d switched to... ahem... a very different kind of wrestling style.
Not that Henry minded, of course. More often than not, he wasn’t paying any attention to them while they were down there. After Cas weighed in on a lecture with more information than the Letters or the Campbells had had on a specific subject, Henry set himself the task of recording everything Cas was willing to share-not just about their family, but about everything. And Cas seemed glad to have something to do other than standing guard, so the two of them often sat up well past midnight talking. Henry then spent most of his Saturdays at the typewriter, typing up his shorthand notes into a form that later generations could read more easily, and updating his personal journal.
When Henry found himself needing reading glasses shortly before Christmas, Cas confirmed that the years he’d missed were catching up to him. Henry wasn’t sure that was usual, but the Letters’ library didn’t seem to have any information on anyone else becoming stuck in the future and surviving long enough for that sort of thing to happen.
The holidays were hard, for obvious reasons, but by Thanksgiving Mary had begun calling Henry “Papa” (she didn’t like “Pops”) and was willing to accept the fatherly comfort and concern he offered her. John, meanwhile, insisted on decking all the halls on December 1 with Christmas decorations he’d found in a storeroom, and after having watched the family prepare Thanksgiving dinner, Cas surprised them all with a Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Mary cried and kissed his cheek, which visibly embarrassed him.
All things considered, then, the Winchester family was in about the best shape possible as their new life in the Men of Letters’ fantastic hideaway carried them into 1974. Both John and Mary were absorbing their training well and discovering their aptitudes in the various fields of study that the Letters encouraged, and Henry found himself both reacquainted with his grown son and considering Mary as much his daughter as if she were his own flesh and blood. They were growing; they were healing; they were happy.
Then, one evening toward the end of April, John and Mary had worn themselves out in the gym and retired early while Henry sat up talking with Cas in the library. Somewhere around midnight, Henry had just opened his mouth to ask a question when Cas suddenly sat up ramrod straight with a look of deep shock and utter confusion, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance beyond Henry’s shoulder.
“... Wait,” Cas breathed. “It’s... it’s too soon....”
“Cas?” Henry prompted. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“Dean.”
It took a second for Henry to place the name of Mary’s hunter friend, the one who’d gone missing the night her parents died. “Dean? He’s here?!”
Cas’ confusion didn’t lessen, though. “In a... way.”
“What do you mean?”
Cas finally turned his eyes back to Henry. “He’s just been conceived.”
Next
Chapter 3
Reeling in the Years
The car was almost silent as Castiel finished his tale, aside from Mary weeping quietly into John’s shoulder. John looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or kill something. And Henry... was just baffled, though his heart felt like a baseball with the cover knocked off.
Finally, John shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, as if his voice were protesting being used. “But all this... what guarantee do we have that any of it’s true? How do we know you are who you say you are?”
“You can’t know,” Castiel said simply, reminding Henry of a book he’d never gotten to read to John, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. “You can only believe-or not. But I can give you one further token, if I may, if Mary will move aside.”
Mary sniffled and scooted back a little way.
“Thank you,” Castiel told her. Then he reached across the seat to touch a point on John’s right side. “This is where you were wounded.”
John acknowledged the statement with a slight nod.
Castiel put both hands over that spot and pulled, causing John to gasp. “Hold out your hands.”
Bewildered, John held out his hands, cupped together. Castiel moved his own fists over John’s and released a double handful of dull grey shards.
Mary gasped. “Is that shrapnel?”
“Yes.” Castiel began sifting through the pile. “Most of the pieces would either have worked their way out on their own or become lodged in places where they could do no significant damage.” Then he pulled out one narrow, jagged piece that looked like a particularly nasty flechette, still bearing a reddish tinge. “But this one would eventually have found your heart. It would not be enough to kill on its own, but the damage it would cause would be enough to put you at risk of a fatal heart attack.” With that, he immolated it, ending that threat to John’s life forever.
There was a stunned pause before Henry asked quietly, “So now that you’ve told us... what do we do? How do we stop it?”
“The future is already changing,” Castiel replied. “Lilith cannot escape from Hell unless the Devil’s Gate is opened, and the only way that will happen is if Meg or some other demon takes up where Azazel left off. Without Lilith, Lucifer’s cage cannot be opened. But I have no way of knowing whether Meg will try again in this generation-the future is still too unsettled to be foreseen.”
Henry shot a worried look at the kids; Mary had accepted the mess of shrapnel from John and was curled against his chest once more. “Well, then... I hate to ask, but... should John and Mary not marry?”
Castiel shook his head. “No, they must wed. Their union was predestined. No effort has been spared to bring them together.”
John’s arms tightened around Mary even as he closed his eyes in evident relief.
“What is imperative,” Castiel continued, “is ensuring that neither John nor Mary can be forced into a deal. For that, we’ll need the assistance of the Men of Letters.”
“How?” John asked. “They’re all dead.”
“Not all. Larry Ganem lives.”
“What?!” the humans all gasped.
“He assumed the identity of the commander of his brother’s infantry unit in the First World War. The other man is dead and was buried under Larry’s name. Larry is now in Lebanon, Kansas, awaiting Henry’s return. He will be able to tell you of a place where you three may dwell in safety until the danger is past.”
“Where in Lebanon?” Henry asked.
Castiel hesitated. “I believe I should come with you. I can give you directions once we reach the town.”
Mary sniffled and wiped her cheek on her shoulder. “We can’t go back to Lawrence, though, can we?”
Castiel shook his head again. “It would be too dangerous. I’m sorry.”
John drew in a deep breath. “I... b-before we go, I need to make a phone call. Shouldn’t take... five minutes.”
“All right,” Castiel allowed. “But your father should go with you.”
Henry nodded. “Let’s go, son.”
John rubbed Mary’s back a little, and she finally sat up again and slid over toward her door. Then John and Henry got out and walked over to a pay phone that stood outside the mall. While Henry kept an eye out for unexpected company, John picked up the phone, put in a few coins, and dialed.
“Mom?”
The question startled Henry-but then he realized it shouldn’t have. Of course John wouldn’t be willing to disappear without at least bidding Millie farewell.
“Hi. ... Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry about that. I would have called sooner, but.... Look, Mom, something’s happened. I, um... me and Mary, we’re with Pops. ... I-I know-will you let me finish? ... He’s-he’s fine. It’s complicated. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. ... Mom! ... Something’s happened, and-the three of us, we’re probably gonna have to go into Witness Protection for a while. ... No, ma’am, I don’t. I can’t tell you anything. I’m sorry. I... I just... would you give Mr. Woodson my regrets? ... I-I dunno. I’m sorry. ... Love you, too, Mom. Bye.” John hung up the phone quietly and took a moment to collect himself before stepping out of the booth.
“Mr. Woodson?” Henry asked.
John took a deep breath and let it out again. “He runs a garage there in Lawrence. I... was supposed to have an interview with him on Monday.”
Henry put a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, son. I’m proud of you.”
John lost his composure at that, and Henry pulled him into a hug until the sobs subsided.
“Think you’re good to drive now?” Henry asked at last.
John sniffled, nodded, and stepped back, spine ramrod straight-all Marine, all business. “Yes, sir.”
“All right, then. Let’s get out of here.”
Once they were back in the car, John took a moment to have Mary help him get his bearings and plot a course. Then they headed north out of Topeka, past the Nebraska state line, and stopped at the Pawnee County Courthouse so the kids could get married right away. Both of them wept for what might have been, as did Henry, but somehow Castiel’s presence made even their tiny civil ceremony seem divinely blessed.
The detour added an hour or two to the drive time, but they still reached Lebanon in time for a late lunch. After they ate, Castiel gave John directions to a two-story house on the eastern end of town. Here Henry took the lead, marched up to the door, and pushed the doorbell.
The woman who answered the door was indeed Larry’s wife, and she gasped loudly at seeing Henry.
“Afternoon, Meredith,” Henry said with a wry smile. “Is Larry home?”
Meredith drew in a ragged breath and stepped aside, beckoning to the travelers. “Come in. Come in.”
Henry led the way into the living room, where Larry sat in a wingback chair with a white-knuckled grip on its arms, eyes wide but unseeing. “Can it be?” Larry asked quietly. “After all these years... can it be?”
“Hi, Larry,” Henry said with a small smile, stepping up to the chair. “It’s Henry Winchester.”
“Henry....” Larry held up his trembling right hand. “L-let me see you?”
“Sure.” Henry knelt beside the chair and guided Larry’s hand to his cheek, holding still as his mentor’s fingers gingerly swept over his features.
Larry drew a ragged breath and closed his eyes. “Thank God. Thank God! I knew you’d gotten out alive somehow. But-but how? Why, you haven’t aged a day.”
“I would love to tell you all about it, my friend, but we may not have much time.”
“I understand. Do you still have the box?”
“I do.”
“Inside the box is the key to everything the Men of Letters have collected for a thousand years. And the collection’s in the safest place on earth, warded against every evil thing, impervious to any entry except with the key.”
Henry sighed in relief. “Wonderful. How do I get there?”
Larry felt for a notepad on the end table beside his chair, pulled it over to the arm of the chair, and wrote a series of numbers on it. Then he tore off the top page and held it out to Henry, who took it. “Take the key to these coordinates. But you must promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“When you get there, throw the key inside, lock the door, and walk away.”
Henry felt himself go pale. “No. I-I can’t do that.”
Larry found Henry’s shoulder without much difficulty. “Henry, listen to me. We cannot let Abaddon have the knowledge that’s stored in that place.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
The others had hung back, but now Castiel, clearly impatient, stepped forward to stand beside Henry. “There is little risk of Abaddon finding us here.”
Larry’s eyes went wide. “Who’s that?”
“This is the angel Castiel,” Henry replied. “He helped me find you.”
Larry nodded slowly, then shook his head decisively. “Little risk is not no risk, Castiel. Abaddon must not get that key.”
“Larry, you don’t understand. My children need protection, training in the ways of the Letters! If this place is so safe, we can stay there-you could even come with us, help us.”
Larry shook his head even more emphatically. “No, no, no. It’s too dangerous. This house may be watched-”
With an annoyed huff, Castiel pressed two fingers to the center of Larry’s forehead, sending him instantly into a deep sleep.
Meredith gasped and hurried forward. “What did you do?!”
For answer, Castiel pressed his fingers to the center of her forehead, and she sagged backward into John’s arms, likewise deeply asleep.
“What was that for?” John asked as he and Mary hustled Meredith onto the couch.
“A necessary precaution,” Castiel replied. “They will not remember our visit when they wake. Let’s go.”
“He could have helped us,” Henry protested as he stood.
Castiel stepped closer to Henry, their noses less than an inch apart as the angel’s unblinking blue eyes bored into Henry’s. “No one must know we were here. No one, not even the staunchest potential ally, can be trusted-not until the plan for John’s children has been stopped. Even those whom demons cannot reach, the other angels could still use against us.”
Mary took a deep breath and said, “So we really are in Witness Protection.”
Castiel took a step backward and turned to her. “After a fashion, yes. Even I am.”
John settled a blanket over Meredith and straightened. “All right, then. Let’s go check out the safest place on earth.”
“I’m sure you two know how to locate coordinates on a map,” Henry said as the travelers started for the door, “but do you have a map that shows latitude and longitude?”
Before John could answer, Castiel said, “Let me see the coordinates.”
Henry dutifully handed over the paper Larry had given him.
“Huh,” said Castiel. “So great was his fear of discovery, I hadn’t thought he would dare to live so close.”
“What do you mean?”
“This place is only a mile outside the city limits, on the other side of town.”
“May I?” Mary asked before taking the paper from Castiel and blinking. “You’re right. Dad once worked a case in this area, and the coordinates were only a few minutes different from these.”
“Sounds like you’re our navigator, then, Cas,” John said, opening the front door.
Castiel paused mid-stride for a second, looking... wistful? “Yes,” he agreed quietly. “I suppose I am.”
“You don’t... mind that nickname?” Mary asked meekly.
And that was definitely the ghost of a fond smile. “No. No, I don’t mind it at all.”
Henry decided to ask questions later and made sure to lock the door behind him on the way out.
With Castiel-Cas-navigating, John drove out of town to a point near what might be an abandoned power plant. Whatever it was stood high on the hill above their destination, a dingy-looking door set in a bricked archway at the bottom of a short flight of stairs.
“Sure doesn’t look like much from outside,” John noted with a frown as they got out of the car.
“Good camouflage,” Mary noted. “If the Men of Letters didn’t want anyone to know this was here, they wouldn’t want it to look like some grand Masonic temple or anything. Just-”
“The cleft of the rock that shadows a dry, thirsty land,” Henry quoted, a little surprised that the analogy had come to mind.
Cas looked surprised, too, but all he said was, “May Father’s hand truly cover us here.”
Henry drew a deep breath and produced the box that had been hiding in his coat pocket for the better part of a day. It took only a couple of tries to get it open, and then he led the kids down the stairs to the door and tried the key in the lock. The space beyond was dark, but John had thought to bring a flashlight, so Henry let him lead the way inside and locate a fuse box. For his own part, Henry wasn’t sure what to make of the little he could see, but the air smelled remarkably fresh for a place that had been closed up for a decade and a half. And Mary seemed to relax a little, just knowing they were in a safe place.
Cas definitely relaxed. “Good, good,” Henry heard him murmur. “Larry was correct. No evil thing can breach these wards. We’ll be safe here.”
John found the main switch just then and turned on the lights, revealing a command center that probably dated from Henry’s father’s time. That didn’t explain the scent of leather and old books that kept tickling Henry’s nose, however, so he proceeded down the staircase and across the central room to a large open doorway, where he found what he could only describe as a slice of heaven on earth: a fabulous, beautiful library. He couldn’t suppress a gasp of wonder.
“Sweet,” Mary breathed behind him.
“I like this place,” Cas declared, and Henry turned to find the angel looking around with a slight satisfied smile. “It’s orderly.”
“And defensible,” John noted, coming down the stairs to join them. “Think we could survive World War III down here. Just wish it had some windows and a garage.”
Henry frowned a little. “Surely there’s a garage somewhere. It wouldn’t make sense to park on the street, especially if anyone stayed here for any length of time.”
“Guess we ought to try to find it, then, that and a kitchen.”
So the four of them set out on a cursory look through the place, finding not only the kitchen and-after a long search-the garage and its entrance, but also file rooms, laboratories, storage rooms, bedrooms and bathrooms, a laundromat, a gymnasium, and even a firing range. Most of the parking spots in the garage were taken, but there was space enough in the center of the room that John was able to park his car comfortably.
It wasn’t until after supper, cooked from the kitchen’s ample store of non-perishables, that any of the humans realized that they hadn’t brought more with them than the clothes on their backs. And Mary wilted visibly at the thought of having to wear the same clothes for a third day running.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Castiel promised.
Mary nodded and sniffled. “Okay. Thank you.”
Henry ran a hand over his face at the same time John scrubbed wearily at his stubble, and both sighed in unison.
“You kids must be beat,” Henry said. “None of us got much sleep last night. Why don’t we go choose bedrooms?”
The kids nodded, and after clearing the dishes, the Winchesters left Castiel in the kitchen and headed back to the bedroom wing. After a brief examination of each room, John finally decided on the one at the far end of the hall, and Henry offered to take the one at the opposite end just to give the newlyweds some privacy. Mary nodded her acceptance, trudged into the room John had chosen, and paused at the foot of the bed as she finally broke down.
John went to her and pulled her into a comforting hug. “Shh,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.” After a moment of this, he kissed her tenderly.
And something in the air shifted, as if a spell had been activated.
“John,” Mary gasped raggedly, desperately.
John kissed her again while her mouth was still open, hungrily, passionately. Her hands scrabbled at his back and finally found purchase on his collar. Henry discreetly pulled the door to-and a moment later, he heard fabric tearing.
Disturbed, Henry started down the hall toward the library. It wasn’t that he minded the kids enjoying their wedding night in the usual fashion, though admittedly he was still adjusting to the idea that his little boy was now a grown, married man. But something more than natural passion was at work here.
“Cupids.”
Henry turned to find Cas walking beside him, looking straight ahead. “I’m sorry?”
“Cupids. They’re-”
“The lowest rank of angels, I know. What about them?”
Cas finally turned that intense gaze of his to meet Henry’s eyes. “As I said, no effort was spared to bring John and Mary together. Their hearts bear a cupid’s mark, linking them together body and soul, will they, nill they. Even if they had tried to break up over the knowledge of Lucifer’s plan, sooner or later they would have reunited, with or without the assistance of the angels.” He glanced over his shoulder briefly. “Only death can part them now.”
Henry ran a hand over his mouth, unsure how to react. If the plotting and engineering went that deep....
“I don’t think they need to know that,” Cas continued, lowering his voice. “They may sense that something about their relationship is forced, but it will be far safer for all concerned if we help them to grow together now.”
Henry sighed. “Yes, you’re probably right.” He paused. “I can’t go home now, can I?”
“No. You would not be able to change the course of the last fifteen years. Too much depends on John having to grow up without you. Even if you should return, you would be killed, if not instantly, then very soon. I’m sorry.”
Henry sighed again, more heavily. “I think I may sleep in the library tonight.”
Castiel gave him a pitying look and touched his forehead. He woke ten hours later in a bed, presumably in the bedroom he’d chosen; there was a shaving kit on the dresser, and the closet was filled with clothes that would fit him.
Settling in took most of the summer, and not just in terms of dividing chores and decorating spaces. There were boundary questions to be settled, of course, and questions of what the humans could-and should-be doing during their ten-year seclusion. John nearly came to blows with Cas the first time Cas tried to nix a supply run; Mary finally got John to agree to the compromise of taking Cas with him. The next time John wanted to go out, to take Mary on a date in Mankato, Cas neither objected nor let on that he was tagging along as an invisible bodyguard. Henry, meanwhile, had his hands full trying to sort out some kind of abbreviated training curriculum to bring both kids up to speed on the Letters without requiring the ceremonial side that had delayed Henry’s initiation. He also needed to research what secrets had been withheld from him pending his final initiation, any lore that might be useful in continuing to keep the kids off the radar, and anything they might need to know to live safely in the midst of so many powerful treasures.
By August, however, the family had settled into a routine. Weekday mornings were for lectures and discussions, as well as the occasional presentation Henry assigned to the kids. Afternoons John and Mary studied together while Henry did his own research. And after an early supper, at least three days a week, came sparring lessons. John had a great deal to contribute here, given his Marine training, but Mary also taught both men specific combat techniques for fighting various kinds of monsters. Henry found himself learning quite a lot, as well as gaining musculature he’d never known he had.
John and Mary often went to the gym to spar without Henry, though. And it didn’t take long for him to figure out that if one of their sessions went long, they’d switched to... ahem... a very different kind of wrestling style.
Not that Henry minded, of course. More often than not, he wasn’t paying any attention to them while they were down there. After Cas weighed in on a lecture with more information than the Letters or the Campbells had had on a specific subject, Henry set himself the task of recording everything Cas was willing to share-not just about their family, but about everything. And Cas seemed glad to have something to do other than standing guard, so the two of them often sat up well past midnight talking. Henry then spent most of his Saturdays at the typewriter, typing up his shorthand notes into a form that later generations could read more easily, and updating his personal journal.
When Henry found himself needing reading glasses shortly before Christmas, Cas confirmed that the years he’d missed were catching up to him. Henry wasn’t sure that was usual, but the Letters’ library didn’t seem to have any information on anyone else becoming stuck in the future and surviving long enough for that sort of thing to happen.
The holidays were hard, for obvious reasons, but by Thanksgiving Mary had begun calling Henry “Papa” (she didn’t like “Pops”) and was willing to accept the fatherly comfort and concern he offered her. John, meanwhile, insisted on decking all the halls on December 1 with Christmas decorations he’d found in a storeroom, and after having watched the family prepare Thanksgiving dinner, Cas surprised them all with a Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Mary cried and kissed his cheek, which visibly embarrassed him.
All things considered, then, the Winchester family was in about the best shape possible as their new life in the Men of Letters’ fantastic hideaway carried them into 1974. Both John and Mary were absorbing their training well and discovering their aptitudes in the various fields of study that the Letters encouraged, and Henry found himself both reacquainted with his grown son and considering Mary as much his daughter as if she were his own flesh and blood. They were growing; they were healing; they were happy.
Then, one evening toward the end of April, John and Mary had worn themselves out in the gym and retired early while Henry sat up talking with Cas in the library. Somewhere around midnight, Henry had just opened his mouth to ask a question when Cas suddenly sat up ramrod straight with a look of deep shock and utter confusion, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance beyond Henry’s shoulder.
“... Wait,” Cas breathed. “It’s... it’s too soon....”
“Cas?” Henry prompted. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“Dean.”
It took a second for Henry to place the name of Mary’s hunter friend, the one who’d gone missing the night her parents died. “Dean? He’s here?!”
Cas’ confusion didn’t lessen, though. “In a... way.”
“What do you mean?”
Cas finally turned his eyes back to Henry. “He’s just been conceived.”
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