Gilgamesh Wulfenbach and the Men of Letters 4/?
Previous | Master Post
Chapter 4
Speak in Clouded Clues
“A month and a half?!” Sam and Dean echoed incredulously, coming to a halt beside the Impala.
Kevin nodded. “Sorry it took so long.”
After Agatha had assigned a minion to take Cas and Kevin’s gear to the castle, Dean had volunteered to drive Tarvek and Wulfenbach-who now insisted they call him Gil-to Sturmhalten, but since there were still some things the kids had to do at the cathedral and then at the castle before they could leave, Dean was just going to put the sniper rifle away. He almost forgot that purpose, though, in light of what Cas and Kevin had just told them. “Dude, we got here at sunrise this morning. The sun hasn’t even completely set yet! How the hell-”
“Evidently time passes much more slowly here,” Cas explained.
Sam shook his head. “It’s like Narnia in reverse.”
Dean sighed and opened the trunk.
“We would have been here sooner,” Kevin continued, “but there weren’t any records in Charlie’s computer, so we had to search the files by hand, and it took a week for us to even find the room where the journal was hidden. And when we found it, the whole thing was in some weird mashup of German, Latin, and Romanian, and encrypted to boot. Plus, there are parts in some language even Cas has never seen before.”
Dean put the rifle back in its case and closed the trunk. “Wait, what journal?”
“Barry Heterodyne’s journal,” Cas replied. “We brought a copy of it with us. He’s Agatha’s uncle.”
“Is?”
“He visited our world in 1945, just after the end of World War II. But in this world, I suspect that visit was no more than a year ago.”
“That’s no guarantee he came back here,” Sam noted, “or that he’s still alive if he did.”
Dean nodded. “Shouldn’t get Agatha’s hopes up.”
“Anyway,” Kevin resumed, “once we did get it deciphered, we had to rebuild the gateway and recalibrate it and all. I guess we’re lucky there’s some sort of portal device in the cathedral’s crypt for the gateway to connect to-no telling where we would have ended up otherwise.”
Sam frowned. “See, that’s the weird thing. It spat us out at Mamma Gkika’s. Why would Barry design the portal robot to do that if the cathedral has a device it could have connected to? Even assuming the Doom Bell had opened a rift, dropping us in the open had to have taken a hell of a lot more energy.”
Before anyone could come up with an answer, Theo and Sleipnir arrived, he carrying a basket of food on the side opposite where he’d been shot in the shoulder by Vole, she carrying a table and folding chairs. “Mamma’s compliments,” she said, setting the table down. “Everyone’s headed back to the castle, but Gil and Sturmvoraus should be finished there about the time we finish eating.”
The Americans all made noises of pleased agreement, and soon they were sitting down to a pleasant picnic, though Sam whispered something to Kevin-probably to warn him not to look too closely at the food. Dean, quite frankly, was too hungry to care what Jägers considered fit food for humans and dug into his sandwich without hesitation, and either it wasn’t too weird or he was hungrier than he thought, because it tasted really good. And Theo and Sleipnir did most of the talking, explaining their relationship to each other (recently eloped), to Agatha (Theo’s cousin), and to Gil (schoolmates), along with some long-winded story about Andronicus Valois and Euphrosynia Heterodyne that somehow explained why Tarvek wanted to marry Agatha. Dean didn’t really care, so he tuned that part out, knowing Sam would pay attention enough for both of them. He was trying to figure out how to apologize to Cas for kicking him out of the bunker and how much, if anything, he should say about Zeke-er, Gadreel.
Maybe he should just keep calling Gadreel “Zeke.” Aside from the identity scam, the angel had kept his word... so far. Then again, the situation might have looked different if they hadn’t gotten pulled into this world. Oh, hell, Dean didn’t know.
Cas finished eating around the same time Dean did, so when there was a break in the conversation, Dean asked Cas to walk a short way from the table with him so they could talk. “Hey, so,” he began quietly once they were out of Sam’s earshot, “I, uh... how’s your arm?”
Cas looked down at the air cast Kevin had explained on the way from the cathedral. “It’s healing. Slowly, but well enough for a human. I should be able to begin therapy exercises in another week or two.”
“Good, good.” Dean sighed. “Listen, Cas, back at the bunker... sorry I told you to go.”
“You weren’t entirely wrong, Dean. Ephraim was drawn by my pain. He could just as easily have been drawn to the bunker.”
“Sounds like you handled him okay even without me, though. I’m proud of you.”
Cas smiled a little.
“And... thanks. Y’know, for looking after Kevin and everything.”
“I’m glad he needed me, to be honest. After talking with Ephraim, I was uncertain as to what I should do. The angels are in great trouble, but if Kevin were unprotected, far worse would certainly come once Metatron realized his error.”
“Yeah, well, let’s not get hung up on the what ifs. He’s safe here, and so are you.”
“For the moment, though I wonder whether I ought to return.”
“No, dude. We’re here to help Agatha, but whatever’s going on in Sturmhalten, it sounds like it’s gonna take both Sam and me. You and Kevin need to stay here, help out with the cleanup, maybe give Agatha advice. She’s got the Jäger generals and Krosp, but she could probably use a higher perspective, if you know what I mean.”
“Krosp?”
“King of Cats. He’s a construct-it’s a long story.” And Dean hadn’t heard it, so he couldn’t explain.
Cas sighed. “Dean, I failed at being an angel. I failed as a hunter. Working at Gas’n’Sip was a chance at some quiet human dignity, but... I don’t deserve to be in charge of anything more than that.”
“Who said anything about being in charge? You’re a consultant.”
“Since when is my advice worth taking?”
Dean put a hand on his buddy’s shoulder. “Since you realized you don’t know it all.”
Cas blinked, considering that statement.
“Besides, somebody’s gotta keep Kevin away from those barmaids at Mamma’s. He tell you what happened to him in Branson?”
“No.” But from the amused sparkle in his eyes, Cas could guess. “He did say he’d been sick.”
“King-sized hangover, man. He’d been down for three days when we left. I don’t even know how the hell he got so wasted to begin with. Point is, the kid’s an amateur. Mamma’s girls dress up like Jägers on purpose-they’d put Kevin in the hospital without even trying.”
Cas actually chuckled.
Sam walked over to them at that point. “Hey, so Sleipnir thinks we need to try to find some period clothes just so the Wulfenbach forces don’t freak out when they see us-not so much because of the difference in style as because we ‘look common.’” He didn’t use air quotes, and he barely refrained from rolling his eyes, but his disgust with the implied insult was plain enough in both his tone and his expression.
Dean frowned. “Dude, Dad was a mechanic.”
“Yeah, but Henry wasn’t. Look, you know I’m good with plaid and jeans, and the Castle Wulfenbach crew has already seen me in this, but she’s got a point. The Men of Letters were the elite. At least one of us ought to... look like we’ve got some authority. I mean, we’re not gonna have time to buy anything for me, but Theo said he might have something you could borrow.”
Dean was about to object again when he suddenly remembered a suit of clothes he’d hidden under the Impala’s back seat and forgotten about. He went to see if the clothes were still there, and finding that they were, he pulled them out triumphantly. Even the hat was only slightly dusty.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“You said authority.” Dean put on the cowboy hat and held up the stack of clothes to display the tin star still pinned to the lapel of the vest. “I carry a badge.”
Sam did roll his eyes at that.
Curious, the others came over to investigate. “Is that for real?” Kevin asked.
“Yup,” Dean replied. “Back in 1861, I used to be sheriff of Sunrise, Wyoming.”
“For what,” Sam countered, “six hours?!”
“Hey, it’s a real badge, Sam.”
“You know what? Fine. At least it’s not your Moondoor costume or your Untouchables suit.”
“I look damn good in that suit, and you know it. And I’ll be lucky if I ever get to wear it again.”
“Why, don’t you have that stashed in the car somewhere?”
“Hell, no. It’s hanging up in my room at home.”
Sam huffed and rolled his eyes again. Dean did know what the real problem was, and they were going to have the discussion Sam wanted soon-but not right here and right now. Here and now, he was going to keep giving Sam something else to be annoyed about.
So he turned to Theo and Sleipnir. “You guys know of someplace where I can change?”
“Uh, sure,” said Theo. “We’ve got a room at the inn a few blocks from here. I’ll show you.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
As they left, both Kevin and Sleipnir started asking Sam all about the trip to Sunrise, where Sam had had to convince Samuel Colt to let them borrow his gun that could kill (almost) anything and Dean had used it to kill a phoenix-only for their time to run out before they could collect the phoenix ash they needed to kill the Mother of All Monsters, though Colt came through in the end and arranged for a bottle of ash to be held by a parcel delivery service and delivered to Bobby’s house in 2012. Given the sketchy dealings Cas had been involved in at the time as part of his attempt to stop Raphael from restarting the Apocalypse, Dean was just as glad not to have to explain in front of Cas. Instead, since Theo was also curious, Dean gave him the shortened and cleaned-up version.
“Wow!” Theo said as Dean finished, just about the time they got to the inn. “That’s as exciting as a Heterodyne story! This gun, though... is it a death ray?”
Dean snorted. “Nah, just a revolver, but it’s charmed to kill monsters and demons-even the kind where you have to jump up and down three times, roll a head of cabbage, and giggle.” At Theo’s odd look, he shrugged. “Joke.”
“Ah.”
“So these Heterodyne stories-are they, like, dime novels or something?”
“A step or two above dime novels in quality, but essentially, yes. They’re the mostly true exploits of Bill and Barry Heterodyne, with their sidekick Klaus Wulfenbach and their constructs Punch and Judy. The Heterodyne Boys travel all over, winning hearts and fighting evil. Bill always ends up with Lucrezia Mongfish, and Barry always woos the High Priestess of whatever.”
Dean frowned. “Lu-the Lucrezia Mongfish?”
“Strange but true. Aunt Lucrezia really was the villain’s beautiful daughter who tried to go straight... at least for a few years. How long she’d been The Other before the night she disappeared is anyone’s guess. That part’s not common knowledge and definitely doesn’t get into the stories.”
“Wish Chuck had left a few things out of ours,” Dean muttered.
Theo blinked. “Pardon?”
“Ah, we had books written about us a few years back, series called Supernatural, probably about the same level of quality. Except ours were true. Angels tapped a prophet to write what they called ‘the Winchester Gospels.’ He’d published, like, sixty of the damn things before we found out about it. Then he got through the end of the Apocalypse and disappeared, and his ex put ’em all on the Internet-uh, it’s a... huge network of information.” Dean decided not to mention that Chuck Shurley’s aforementioned ex, Becky Rosen, had also had a major thing for Sam. There were some buttons that weren’t worth pushing right now.
Being a spark, however, Theo was more interested in hearing about the Internet anyway, so they talked computers as they made their way up to the DuMedds’ room and Dean ducked behind a folding screen to get changed. They were debating the merits of fiberoptic cable over copper wire when someone knocked on the door.
“Dean, are you decent?” Sleipnir called from the other side.
Dean looked down at himself with a start to find that he had, in fact, finished dressing without even realizing it, down to fitting his M1911 into the holster of the gun belt somehow. “Uh, yeah,” he called back. “C’mon in.”
Sleipnir came in carrying a small flask of some purply-pinkish stuff that didn’t exactly look like Pepto-Bismol, but though she looked like she was about to give Theo a peck on the cheek, she whistled appreciatively as Dean came out from behind the screen. “Now that looks American!”
Embarrassed, Dean ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. Theo cleared his throat.
Sleipnir kissed him and brought the flask over to Dean. “Here’s the anti-wasp potion. Sturmvoraus is pretty sure the Lucrezias won’t have had time to make another spark wasp, but Gil figures better safe than sorry. Sam’s already taken his dose, and Agatha’s treating Cas and Kevin now.”
Dean started to object that he wasn’t a spark, but that would probably make the potion more necessary than less. So he sighed and accepted the flask.
“Oh, and just so you know, it’s got a hell of a kick.”
“Thanks.” Dean tossed the stuff back, gagged at the taste-and suddenly felt like he was being electrocuted. He had just dismissed the worry about what this shock would do to his heart, once almost fatally damaged by a line-of-duty taser accident, with the memory that his angel-repaired heart was no longer in that kind of danger when the feeling passed and he collapsed. Immediately after that, he felt two brass fingers press against his forehead, and relief and refreshment swept over him.
“How are you?” Gadreel asked as Dean’s eyes focused on him.
“Better. Thanks.” Dean held up a hand, and the angel helped him to his feet. “Didn’t hear you come in,” he added, ducking back behind the screen long enough to gather up his other clothes.
“I did not use the door.”
“Oh, so you have got your wings back.”
“In a... way. The waters of the Dyne seem to be undoing Metatron’s curse by degrees-but its power may also be tying my grace to this world.” Gadreel wasn’t using Sam’s voice, but Dean could almost picture Sam’s worried expression as Gadreel looked down and away from him. “I am not sure whether that is good or bad.”
Theo frowned. “Wait, did you drink more?”
Gadreel nodded. “It was necessary to regain the use of my wings to prevent the baron from activating the stasis bomb. The clank’s wings are quite functional, but they are far too slow for the speed I needed to avoid the drop armor’s defenses.”
“Stasis bomb?”
“The device he intended to activate would have placed Mechanicsburg in a bubble wherein time stopped. The consequences could have been disastrous.”
Theo gulped, and Sleipnir put both her arms around his waist as he wrapped his good arm around her shoulders.
But Dean’s eyes narrowed as he considered the implications of Gadreel’s revelation about the water. “So you’re saying that even if we get that thing in the cathedral set up so we can go home....”
“Even assuming that too much time has not passed for return to be wise... I may not be able to leave this world again. But Dean, exile here is far preferable to Heaven’s prison in our world, especially since there is work for me to do here that may help me regain my honor. Many are wounded; I can help heal. Much is destroyed; I can help restore. And Agatha seems to think I might fit in here.”
“You’re stayin’ here, then. I mean, while me and Sam take Gil and Tarvek to Sturmhalten.”
“If you have no objections.”
“Dude, you don’t owe me a thing. You wanna heal people to pay your debts, start with Theo here. But sooner or later, you are gonna have to face up to Cas. I ain’t doin’ that for you.” Dean picked up his fallen hat, put it on, and started for the door.
“Can you not-”
“No. We’ve already wasted enough time. Sooner we get Gil to Sturmhalten, the better chance we have of headin’ Anevka off at the pass.” And with a nod to Theo and a touch of the hat to Sleipnir, Dean left.
He arrived back at the square to find the streetlights coming on, Cas and Kevin slowly coming around from their dose of anti-wasp potion, Gil and Sam poring over a map that was spread out on the Impala’s trunk, and Tarvek hugging Agatha goodbye. Someone had stuck a flag with the Wulfenbach winged-tower badge on the Impala’s radio antenna, which was probably the easiest way to avoid getting shot at. By the time Dean had said goodbye to Kevin and Cas, Sam was calling him over to check out the map, and Tarvek was trying to convince the weasels, which were still following him around, to stay with Violetta.
“Nice,” Gil said as he stepped away from the car and Dean approached it. Then he saw the badge and shook his head. “Why couldn’t the Jägers have given me a badge instead of a flaming hat?” But before Dean could do more than chuckle, Gil walked off.
“So get this,” Sam said as Dean walked up to him. “Sturmhalten’s only, like, sixty miles from here. The good news is, it’s a pretty straight shot; we hang a right at Mulverschtag, but that’s the only turnoff. The bad news is, we have to go over the mountains here”-he pointed to a pass marked on the map-“to get out of this valley, then another steep ascent to Balan’s Gap to get to Sturmhalten... and it’s a cobblestone road.”
Dean opened the trunk just far enough and just long enough to toss his other clothes in, then returned his attention to the map. “What kind of cobblestones?”
“Gil said they’re flat, but the passes haven’t been open long enough for maintenance crews to check for winter damage yet. But since it looks like that’s the direction the baron ordered his forces to retreat, he doesn’t think the road will be impassible.”
“Great. Well, they’ve got, what, two hours’ head start?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“So we should catch up to the rearguard in... ten, twenty miles?”
“Depending on how fast they’re running, how bad the bottleneck at the first pass is, and how fast we drive.”
“Mm, true.” Dean rubbed his chin and tried to calculate what the most effective speed would be, assuming that the Jägers pursuing the Wulfenbach troops to the pass would recognize the car and let them through but the troops themselves wouldn’t.
His train of thought was interrupted by a barely audible but breathless “Gil....”
“Shh,” was the only reply.
Dean looked at Sam. Sam looked at Dean, cleared his throat, and went to get Tarvek. But since heading toward the driver’s side would have meant walking toward Gil and Agatha, Dean opted to continue pretending to study the map.
“I don’t know what state Wulfenbach is in,” Gil said after a moment. “We haven’t been back that I remember. Father said the castle was unsalvageable and the town had been devastated, but I don’t know if the cathedral’s still standing or if the family crypt is still useable. I’ll ask Boris, but... if... if we can’t....”
“Then we’ll bury him here,” Agatha replied. “I think my father and Uncle Barry would want that.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Gil sighed. “I have to go. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Gil... be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Guess I’d better tell the castle to let you guys leave town.”
“I’d appreciate it. And so would Dean,” Gil added, raising his voice slightly.
Dean took that as his cue to fold up the map. “Hey, can I help it if you two decided to make out within earshot?”
Agatha giggled.
Dean turned to see Gil looking like he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused, but still with one arm around Agatha’s shoulders, while she had one arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder. Both were blushing slightly, and Dean chuckled in spite of himself. “Don’t worry, Agatha. We’ll keep him safe for you.”
Gil’s eyes narrowed even further, but Agatha giggled again. “Thank you.”
Dean smiled at her, took a deep breath, and met Gil’s eyes. “Ready?”
Gil sighed. “I suppose so.” He pressed a kiss on Agatha’s temple before letting her go and walking back toward the car while Dean went around to the back door on the driver’s side. “I don’t need a bodyguard,” he growled quietly as he approached Dean.
Dean huffed and opened the door. “You and Sam. Get in the car.”
Gil snorted but obeyed, and Dean closed the door behind him.
Sam finished saying goodbye to Cas and Kevin at that point and ushered Tarvek over to the car, holding the back door while Tarvek hesitated briefly before getting in. Then both brothers got in the front seat in tandem and closed their doors at the same time, and Dean started the car.
And something in the back seat squeaked in surprise.
Dean looked back sharply to spy a small fuzzy face peeking out from behind Tarvek’s coat collar. “No weasels in the car!” he thundered.
“Dook?” asked the weasel, all wide-eyed innocence.
“I tried-” Tarvek began.
But Gil interrupted, “He might prove useful. So might the wasp eater.”
“Oh, thank you very much.”
The weasel wrapped itself around Tarvek’s neck and trilled happily.
“Gil’s got a point, Dean,” said Sam. “We know Sturmhalten’s full of revenants, but unless the Vespiary Squad tested all of the Wulfenbach troops, we need the wasp eater for detection.”
Dean sighed. “Fine. Just keep it off my seats.”
“It seems happy enough where it is,” Tarvek noted, absently scratching it behind the ears.
Dean decided not to comment and backed carefully out of the spot where he’d parked and onto the street. Getting through the first few turns in the deepening gloom was a bit tricky, even with the streetlights shining, but once he passed Mamma Gkika’s, he was on familiar enough ground that he could get to the gate without difficulty. The gate was blocked by a thick wall of massive thorny tendrils, but as the car approached, the blockage untangled itself-presumably at Agatha’s command-and retreated enough that the car could pass through unimpeded.
Just as they cleared the hedge and Dean eased the speed up to 50, he heard a slight snore and glanced in the rearview mirror to see the rival princes both sacked out. Even the weasel was asleep. That was a good thing, since he didn’t really want an audience for the conversation he needed to have with Sam. Still, Dean had to judge his timing carefully-he wanted to get this over with, but he knew Sam needed to be in the mood to talk.
They were about a mile out of town when Sam sighed and turned his head to look out his window rather than the windshield. That was Dean’s cue.
“I wanted to tell you, Sam,” he said quietly.
Sam frowned and looked at him. “What?”
“About Gadreel. As soon as we left the hospital, I was gonna tell you. But Gadreel said you could kick him out, and if you did that too soon, you’d die.”
“And you believed him.”
“Not like I had any choice, or any reason to think he was lyin’. Cas had said he was okay.”
“But that was when you thought he was Ezekiel.”
“Dammit, I had him in a holy fire trap. How the hell was I to know he’d give me the wrong name?”
“Dean, did you even once think about how wrong this could have gone?”
“Yes.”
Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Good things don’t just happen, not to us. And yeah, I knew possession would be the last thing you’d want. So yeah, I worried about it. And I hated lyin’ to you. But I just... I couldn’t take it, little brother. I couldn’t watch you die again.”
Sam sighed heavily and looked out the window again. But several seconds later, he said in an even lower voice, “I know what you mean.”
Dean blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.
“Von Blitzengaard,” Sam explained. “I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if that knife had hit you.” He shook his head. “I dunno what I would have done, but it wouldn’t have been pretty.”
“Probably woulda run over a bunch of weasels and married their keeper.”
“Dude, will you drop that? I’m sorry I didn’t look for you. Okay? And I should have been there for Kevin. Just... I thought you were dead. I was really messed up, made a lot of mistakes. And your bringing it up all the time doesn’t help.”
Dean sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”
A wounded silence fell over the car that went on for what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute. Truth be told, Dean wasn’t at all sure what he had meant by that wisecrack, which wasn’t even very good as a joke. Last year he probably had harped too much on the fact that Sam’s reaction to Dean and Cas getting zapped into Purgatory while cleaning up the worst of the mess Cas had made fighting Raphael was to ditch all of his phones, thereby also abandoning Kevin to Crowley’s custody, and drive aimlessly but recklessly toward all points not Seattle until he’d hit a dog and hooked up with the vet. Part of the problem was that Sam hadn’t said much more than that about the year Dean had been missing until just now. But Dean didn’t think he’d brought it up since his apology that had talked Sam out of killing himself by finishing the third trial. Maybe it was still too soon, or maybe Dean’s own mistakes were still too fresh in Sam’s mind.
“We can’t keep doin’ this,” Sam finally said in a barely audible voice.
“I know,” Dean replied. After another, less tense pause, he added, “So I guess we gotta stop gettin’ ourselves killed.”
Sam huffed and smiled, and Dean smiled back, but they both knew it wasn’t really a joke. Still, it had cleared the air enough for the silence to be comfortable again.
Then Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the barest glimmer of moonlight reflecting off Gil’s half-open eyes. But he decided not to call the kid on eavesdropping-turn about was fair play, after all.
Next
Chapter 4
Speak in Clouded Clues
“A month and a half?!” Sam and Dean echoed incredulously, coming to a halt beside the Impala.
Kevin nodded. “Sorry it took so long.”
After Agatha had assigned a minion to take Cas and Kevin’s gear to the castle, Dean had volunteered to drive Tarvek and Wulfenbach-who now insisted they call him Gil-to Sturmhalten, but since there were still some things the kids had to do at the cathedral and then at the castle before they could leave, Dean was just going to put the sniper rifle away. He almost forgot that purpose, though, in light of what Cas and Kevin had just told them. “Dude, we got here at sunrise this morning. The sun hasn’t even completely set yet! How the hell-”
“Evidently time passes much more slowly here,” Cas explained.
Sam shook his head. “It’s like Narnia in reverse.”
Dean sighed and opened the trunk.
“We would have been here sooner,” Kevin continued, “but there weren’t any records in Charlie’s computer, so we had to search the files by hand, and it took a week for us to even find the room where the journal was hidden. And when we found it, the whole thing was in some weird mashup of German, Latin, and Romanian, and encrypted to boot. Plus, there are parts in some language even Cas has never seen before.”
Dean put the rifle back in its case and closed the trunk. “Wait, what journal?”
“Barry Heterodyne’s journal,” Cas replied. “We brought a copy of it with us. He’s Agatha’s uncle.”
“Is?”
“He visited our world in 1945, just after the end of World War II. But in this world, I suspect that visit was no more than a year ago.”
“That’s no guarantee he came back here,” Sam noted, “or that he’s still alive if he did.”
Dean nodded. “Shouldn’t get Agatha’s hopes up.”
“Anyway,” Kevin resumed, “once we did get it deciphered, we had to rebuild the gateway and recalibrate it and all. I guess we’re lucky there’s some sort of portal device in the cathedral’s crypt for the gateway to connect to-no telling where we would have ended up otherwise.”
Sam frowned. “See, that’s the weird thing. It spat us out at Mamma Gkika’s. Why would Barry design the portal robot to do that if the cathedral has a device it could have connected to? Even assuming the Doom Bell had opened a rift, dropping us in the open had to have taken a hell of a lot more energy.”
Before anyone could come up with an answer, Theo and Sleipnir arrived, he carrying a basket of food on the side opposite where he’d been shot in the shoulder by Vole, she carrying a table and folding chairs. “Mamma’s compliments,” she said, setting the table down. “Everyone’s headed back to the castle, but Gil and Sturmvoraus should be finished there about the time we finish eating.”
The Americans all made noises of pleased agreement, and soon they were sitting down to a pleasant picnic, though Sam whispered something to Kevin-probably to warn him not to look too closely at the food. Dean, quite frankly, was too hungry to care what Jägers considered fit food for humans and dug into his sandwich without hesitation, and either it wasn’t too weird or he was hungrier than he thought, because it tasted really good. And Theo and Sleipnir did most of the talking, explaining their relationship to each other (recently eloped), to Agatha (Theo’s cousin), and to Gil (schoolmates), along with some long-winded story about Andronicus Valois and Euphrosynia Heterodyne that somehow explained why Tarvek wanted to marry Agatha. Dean didn’t really care, so he tuned that part out, knowing Sam would pay attention enough for both of them. He was trying to figure out how to apologize to Cas for kicking him out of the bunker and how much, if anything, he should say about Zeke-er, Gadreel.
Maybe he should just keep calling Gadreel “Zeke.” Aside from the identity scam, the angel had kept his word... so far. Then again, the situation might have looked different if they hadn’t gotten pulled into this world. Oh, hell, Dean didn’t know.
Cas finished eating around the same time Dean did, so when there was a break in the conversation, Dean asked Cas to walk a short way from the table with him so they could talk. “Hey, so,” he began quietly once they were out of Sam’s earshot, “I, uh... how’s your arm?”
Cas looked down at the air cast Kevin had explained on the way from the cathedral. “It’s healing. Slowly, but well enough for a human. I should be able to begin therapy exercises in another week or two.”
“Good, good.” Dean sighed. “Listen, Cas, back at the bunker... sorry I told you to go.”
“You weren’t entirely wrong, Dean. Ephraim was drawn by my pain. He could just as easily have been drawn to the bunker.”
“Sounds like you handled him okay even without me, though. I’m proud of you.”
Cas smiled a little.
“And... thanks. Y’know, for looking after Kevin and everything.”
“I’m glad he needed me, to be honest. After talking with Ephraim, I was uncertain as to what I should do. The angels are in great trouble, but if Kevin were unprotected, far worse would certainly come once Metatron realized his error.”
“Yeah, well, let’s not get hung up on the what ifs. He’s safe here, and so are you.”
“For the moment, though I wonder whether I ought to return.”
“No, dude. We’re here to help Agatha, but whatever’s going on in Sturmhalten, it sounds like it’s gonna take both Sam and me. You and Kevin need to stay here, help out with the cleanup, maybe give Agatha advice. She’s got the Jäger generals and Krosp, but she could probably use a higher perspective, if you know what I mean.”
“Krosp?”
“King of Cats. He’s a construct-it’s a long story.” And Dean hadn’t heard it, so he couldn’t explain.
Cas sighed. “Dean, I failed at being an angel. I failed as a hunter. Working at Gas’n’Sip was a chance at some quiet human dignity, but... I don’t deserve to be in charge of anything more than that.”
“Who said anything about being in charge? You’re a consultant.”
“Since when is my advice worth taking?”
Dean put a hand on his buddy’s shoulder. “Since you realized you don’t know it all.”
Cas blinked, considering that statement.
“Besides, somebody’s gotta keep Kevin away from those barmaids at Mamma’s. He tell you what happened to him in Branson?”
“No.” But from the amused sparkle in his eyes, Cas could guess. “He did say he’d been sick.”
“King-sized hangover, man. He’d been down for three days when we left. I don’t even know how the hell he got so wasted to begin with. Point is, the kid’s an amateur. Mamma’s girls dress up like Jägers on purpose-they’d put Kevin in the hospital without even trying.”
Cas actually chuckled.
Sam walked over to them at that point. “Hey, so Sleipnir thinks we need to try to find some period clothes just so the Wulfenbach forces don’t freak out when they see us-not so much because of the difference in style as because we ‘look common.’” He didn’t use air quotes, and he barely refrained from rolling his eyes, but his disgust with the implied insult was plain enough in both his tone and his expression.
Dean frowned. “Dude, Dad was a mechanic.”
“Yeah, but Henry wasn’t. Look, you know I’m good with plaid and jeans, and the Castle Wulfenbach crew has already seen me in this, but she’s got a point. The Men of Letters were the elite. At least one of us ought to... look like we’ve got some authority. I mean, we’re not gonna have time to buy anything for me, but Theo said he might have something you could borrow.”
Dean was about to object again when he suddenly remembered a suit of clothes he’d hidden under the Impala’s back seat and forgotten about. He went to see if the clothes were still there, and finding that they were, he pulled them out triumphantly. Even the hat was only slightly dusty.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“You said authority.” Dean put on the cowboy hat and held up the stack of clothes to display the tin star still pinned to the lapel of the vest. “I carry a badge.”
Sam did roll his eyes at that.
Curious, the others came over to investigate. “Is that for real?” Kevin asked.
“Yup,” Dean replied. “Back in 1861, I used to be sheriff of Sunrise, Wyoming.”
“For what,” Sam countered, “six hours?!”
“Hey, it’s a real badge, Sam.”
“You know what? Fine. At least it’s not your Moondoor costume or your Untouchables suit.”
“I look damn good in that suit, and you know it. And I’ll be lucky if I ever get to wear it again.”
“Why, don’t you have that stashed in the car somewhere?”
“Hell, no. It’s hanging up in my room at home.”
Sam huffed and rolled his eyes again. Dean did know what the real problem was, and they were going to have the discussion Sam wanted soon-but not right here and right now. Here and now, he was going to keep giving Sam something else to be annoyed about.
So he turned to Theo and Sleipnir. “You guys know of someplace where I can change?”
“Uh, sure,” said Theo. “We’ve got a room at the inn a few blocks from here. I’ll show you.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
As they left, both Kevin and Sleipnir started asking Sam all about the trip to Sunrise, where Sam had had to convince Samuel Colt to let them borrow his gun that could kill (almost) anything and Dean had used it to kill a phoenix-only for their time to run out before they could collect the phoenix ash they needed to kill the Mother of All Monsters, though Colt came through in the end and arranged for a bottle of ash to be held by a parcel delivery service and delivered to Bobby’s house in 2012. Given the sketchy dealings Cas had been involved in at the time as part of his attempt to stop Raphael from restarting the Apocalypse, Dean was just as glad not to have to explain in front of Cas. Instead, since Theo was also curious, Dean gave him the shortened and cleaned-up version.
“Wow!” Theo said as Dean finished, just about the time they got to the inn. “That’s as exciting as a Heterodyne story! This gun, though... is it a death ray?”
Dean snorted. “Nah, just a revolver, but it’s charmed to kill monsters and demons-even the kind where you have to jump up and down three times, roll a head of cabbage, and giggle.” At Theo’s odd look, he shrugged. “Joke.”
“Ah.”
“So these Heterodyne stories-are they, like, dime novels or something?”
“A step or two above dime novels in quality, but essentially, yes. They’re the mostly true exploits of Bill and Barry Heterodyne, with their sidekick Klaus Wulfenbach and their constructs Punch and Judy. The Heterodyne Boys travel all over, winning hearts and fighting evil. Bill always ends up with Lucrezia Mongfish, and Barry always woos the High Priestess of whatever.”
Dean frowned. “Lu-the Lucrezia Mongfish?”
“Strange but true. Aunt Lucrezia really was the villain’s beautiful daughter who tried to go straight... at least for a few years. How long she’d been The Other before the night she disappeared is anyone’s guess. That part’s not common knowledge and definitely doesn’t get into the stories.”
“Wish Chuck had left a few things out of ours,” Dean muttered.
Theo blinked. “Pardon?”
“Ah, we had books written about us a few years back, series called Supernatural, probably about the same level of quality. Except ours were true. Angels tapped a prophet to write what they called ‘the Winchester Gospels.’ He’d published, like, sixty of the damn things before we found out about it. Then he got through the end of the Apocalypse and disappeared, and his ex put ’em all on the Internet-uh, it’s a... huge network of information.” Dean decided not to mention that Chuck Shurley’s aforementioned ex, Becky Rosen, had also had a major thing for Sam. There were some buttons that weren’t worth pushing right now.
Being a spark, however, Theo was more interested in hearing about the Internet anyway, so they talked computers as they made their way up to the DuMedds’ room and Dean ducked behind a folding screen to get changed. They were debating the merits of fiberoptic cable over copper wire when someone knocked on the door.
“Dean, are you decent?” Sleipnir called from the other side.
Dean looked down at himself with a start to find that he had, in fact, finished dressing without even realizing it, down to fitting his M1911 into the holster of the gun belt somehow. “Uh, yeah,” he called back. “C’mon in.”
Sleipnir came in carrying a small flask of some purply-pinkish stuff that didn’t exactly look like Pepto-Bismol, but though she looked like she was about to give Theo a peck on the cheek, she whistled appreciatively as Dean came out from behind the screen. “Now that looks American!”
Embarrassed, Dean ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. Theo cleared his throat.
Sleipnir kissed him and brought the flask over to Dean. “Here’s the anti-wasp potion. Sturmvoraus is pretty sure the Lucrezias won’t have had time to make another spark wasp, but Gil figures better safe than sorry. Sam’s already taken his dose, and Agatha’s treating Cas and Kevin now.”
Dean started to object that he wasn’t a spark, but that would probably make the potion more necessary than less. So he sighed and accepted the flask.
“Oh, and just so you know, it’s got a hell of a kick.”
“Thanks.” Dean tossed the stuff back, gagged at the taste-and suddenly felt like he was being electrocuted. He had just dismissed the worry about what this shock would do to his heart, once almost fatally damaged by a line-of-duty taser accident, with the memory that his angel-repaired heart was no longer in that kind of danger when the feeling passed and he collapsed. Immediately after that, he felt two brass fingers press against his forehead, and relief and refreshment swept over him.
“How are you?” Gadreel asked as Dean’s eyes focused on him.
“Better. Thanks.” Dean held up a hand, and the angel helped him to his feet. “Didn’t hear you come in,” he added, ducking back behind the screen long enough to gather up his other clothes.
“I did not use the door.”
“Oh, so you have got your wings back.”
“In a... way. The waters of the Dyne seem to be undoing Metatron’s curse by degrees-but its power may also be tying my grace to this world.” Gadreel wasn’t using Sam’s voice, but Dean could almost picture Sam’s worried expression as Gadreel looked down and away from him. “I am not sure whether that is good or bad.”
Theo frowned. “Wait, did you drink more?”
Gadreel nodded. “It was necessary to regain the use of my wings to prevent the baron from activating the stasis bomb. The clank’s wings are quite functional, but they are far too slow for the speed I needed to avoid the drop armor’s defenses.”
“Stasis bomb?”
“The device he intended to activate would have placed Mechanicsburg in a bubble wherein time stopped. The consequences could have been disastrous.”
Theo gulped, and Sleipnir put both her arms around his waist as he wrapped his good arm around her shoulders.
But Dean’s eyes narrowed as he considered the implications of Gadreel’s revelation about the water. “So you’re saying that even if we get that thing in the cathedral set up so we can go home....”
“Even assuming that too much time has not passed for return to be wise... I may not be able to leave this world again. But Dean, exile here is far preferable to Heaven’s prison in our world, especially since there is work for me to do here that may help me regain my honor. Many are wounded; I can help heal. Much is destroyed; I can help restore. And Agatha seems to think I might fit in here.”
“You’re stayin’ here, then. I mean, while me and Sam take Gil and Tarvek to Sturmhalten.”
“If you have no objections.”
“Dude, you don’t owe me a thing. You wanna heal people to pay your debts, start with Theo here. But sooner or later, you are gonna have to face up to Cas. I ain’t doin’ that for you.” Dean picked up his fallen hat, put it on, and started for the door.
“Can you not-”
“No. We’ve already wasted enough time. Sooner we get Gil to Sturmhalten, the better chance we have of headin’ Anevka off at the pass.” And with a nod to Theo and a touch of the hat to Sleipnir, Dean left.
He arrived back at the square to find the streetlights coming on, Cas and Kevin slowly coming around from their dose of anti-wasp potion, Gil and Sam poring over a map that was spread out on the Impala’s trunk, and Tarvek hugging Agatha goodbye. Someone had stuck a flag with the Wulfenbach winged-tower badge on the Impala’s radio antenna, which was probably the easiest way to avoid getting shot at. By the time Dean had said goodbye to Kevin and Cas, Sam was calling him over to check out the map, and Tarvek was trying to convince the weasels, which were still following him around, to stay with Violetta.
“Nice,” Gil said as he stepped away from the car and Dean approached it. Then he saw the badge and shook his head. “Why couldn’t the Jägers have given me a badge instead of a flaming hat?” But before Dean could do more than chuckle, Gil walked off.
“So get this,” Sam said as Dean walked up to him. “Sturmhalten’s only, like, sixty miles from here. The good news is, it’s a pretty straight shot; we hang a right at Mulverschtag, but that’s the only turnoff. The bad news is, we have to go over the mountains here”-he pointed to a pass marked on the map-“to get out of this valley, then another steep ascent to Balan’s Gap to get to Sturmhalten... and it’s a cobblestone road.”
Dean opened the trunk just far enough and just long enough to toss his other clothes in, then returned his attention to the map. “What kind of cobblestones?”
“Gil said they’re flat, but the passes haven’t been open long enough for maintenance crews to check for winter damage yet. But since it looks like that’s the direction the baron ordered his forces to retreat, he doesn’t think the road will be impassible.”
“Great. Well, they’ve got, what, two hours’ head start?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“So we should catch up to the rearguard in... ten, twenty miles?”
“Depending on how fast they’re running, how bad the bottleneck at the first pass is, and how fast we drive.”
“Mm, true.” Dean rubbed his chin and tried to calculate what the most effective speed would be, assuming that the Jägers pursuing the Wulfenbach troops to the pass would recognize the car and let them through but the troops themselves wouldn’t.
His train of thought was interrupted by a barely audible but breathless “Gil....”
“Shh,” was the only reply.
Dean looked at Sam. Sam looked at Dean, cleared his throat, and went to get Tarvek. But since heading toward the driver’s side would have meant walking toward Gil and Agatha, Dean opted to continue pretending to study the map.
“I don’t know what state Wulfenbach is in,” Gil said after a moment. “We haven’t been back that I remember. Father said the castle was unsalvageable and the town had been devastated, but I don’t know if the cathedral’s still standing or if the family crypt is still useable. I’ll ask Boris, but... if... if we can’t....”
“Then we’ll bury him here,” Agatha replied. “I think my father and Uncle Barry would want that.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Gil sighed. “I have to go. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Gil... be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Guess I’d better tell the castle to let you guys leave town.”
“I’d appreciate it. And so would Dean,” Gil added, raising his voice slightly.
Dean took that as his cue to fold up the map. “Hey, can I help it if you two decided to make out within earshot?”
Agatha giggled.
Dean turned to see Gil looking like he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused, but still with one arm around Agatha’s shoulders, while she had one arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder. Both were blushing slightly, and Dean chuckled in spite of himself. “Don’t worry, Agatha. We’ll keep him safe for you.”
Gil’s eyes narrowed even further, but Agatha giggled again. “Thank you.”
Dean smiled at her, took a deep breath, and met Gil’s eyes. “Ready?”
Gil sighed. “I suppose so.” He pressed a kiss on Agatha’s temple before letting her go and walking back toward the car while Dean went around to the back door on the driver’s side. “I don’t need a bodyguard,” he growled quietly as he approached Dean.
Dean huffed and opened the door. “You and Sam. Get in the car.”
Gil snorted but obeyed, and Dean closed the door behind him.
Sam finished saying goodbye to Cas and Kevin at that point and ushered Tarvek over to the car, holding the back door while Tarvek hesitated briefly before getting in. Then both brothers got in the front seat in tandem and closed their doors at the same time, and Dean started the car.
And something in the back seat squeaked in surprise.
Dean looked back sharply to spy a small fuzzy face peeking out from behind Tarvek’s coat collar. “No weasels in the car!” he thundered.
“Dook?” asked the weasel, all wide-eyed innocence.
“I tried-” Tarvek began.
But Gil interrupted, “He might prove useful. So might the wasp eater.”
“Oh, thank you very much.”
The weasel wrapped itself around Tarvek’s neck and trilled happily.
“Gil’s got a point, Dean,” said Sam. “We know Sturmhalten’s full of revenants, but unless the Vespiary Squad tested all of the Wulfenbach troops, we need the wasp eater for detection.”
Dean sighed. “Fine. Just keep it off my seats.”
“It seems happy enough where it is,” Tarvek noted, absently scratching it behind the ears.
Dean decided not to comment and backed carefully out of the spot where he’d parked and onto the street. Getting through the first few turns in the deepening gloom was a bit tricky, even with the streetlights shining, but once he passed Mamma Gkika’s, he was on familiar enough ground that he could get to the gate without difficulty. The gate was blocked by a thick wall of massive thorny tendrils, but as the car approached, the blockage untangled itself-presumably at Agatha’s command-and retreated enough that the car could pass through unimpeded.
Just as they cleared the hedge and Dean eased the speed up to 50, he heard a slight snore and glanced in the rearview mirror to see the rival princes both sacked out. Even the weasel was asleep. That was a good thing, since he didn’t really want an audience for the conversation he needed to have with Sam. Still, Dean had to judge his timing carefully-he wanted to get this over with, but he knew Sam needed to be in the mood to talk.
They were about a mile out of town when Sam sighed and turned his head to look out his window rather than the windshield. That was Dean’s cue.
“I wanted to tell you, Sam,” he said quietly.
Sam frowned and looked at him. “What?”
“About Gadreel. As soon as we left the hospital, I was gonna tell you. But Gadreel said you could kick him out, and if you did that too soon, you’d die.”
“And you believed him.”
“Not like I had any choice, or any reason to think he was lyin’. Cas had said he was okay.”
“But that was when you thought he was Ezekiel.”
“Dammit, I had him in a holy fire trap. How the hell was I to know he’d give me the wrong name?”
“Dean, did you even once think about how wrong this could have gone?”
“Yes.”
Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Good things don’t just happen, not to us. And yeah, I knew possession would be the last thing you’d want. So yeah, I worried about it. And I hated lyin’ to you. But I just... I couldn’t take it, little brother. I couldn’t watch you die again.”
Sam sighed heavily and looked out the window again. But several seconds later, he said in an even lower voice, “I know what you mean.”
Dean blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.
“Von Blitzengaard,” Sam explained. “I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if that knife had hit you.” He shook his head. “I dunno what I would have done, but it wouldn’t have been pretty.”
“Probably woulda run over a bunch of weasels and married their keeper.”
“Dude, will you drop that? I’m sorry I didn’t look for you. Okay? And I should have been there for Kevin. Just... I thought you were dead. I was really messed up, made a lot of mistakes. And your bringing it up all the time doesn’t help.”
Dean sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”
A wounded silence fell over the car that went on for what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute. Truth be told, Dean wasn’t at all sure what he had meant by that wisecrack, which wasn’t even very good as a joke. Last year he probably had harped too much on the fact that Sam’s reaction to Dean and Cas getting zapped into Purgatory while cleaning up the worst of the mess Cas had made fighting Raphael was to ditch all of his phones, thereby also abandoning Kevin to Crowley’s custody, and drive aimlessly but recklessly toward all points not Seattle until he’d hit a dog and hooked up with the vet. Part of the problem was that Sam hadn’t said much more than that about the year Dean had been missing until just now. But Dean didn’t think he’d brought it up since his apology that had talked Sam out of killing himself by finishing the third trial. Maybe it was still too soon, or maybe Dean’s own mistakes were still too fresh in Sam’s mind.
“We can’t keep doin’ this,” Sam finally said in a barely audible voice.
“I know,” Dean replied. After another, less tense pause, he added, “So I guess we gotta stop gettin’ ourselves killed.”
Sam huffed and smiled, and Dean smiled back, but they both knew it wasn’t really a joke. Still, it had cleared the air enough for the silence to be comfortable again.
Then Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the barest glimmer of moonlight reflecting off Gil’s half-open eyes. But he decided not to call the kid on eavesdropping-turn about was fair play, after all.
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