"The Apostle of Tarsus II: Faithfully, Chapters 8-9" Supernatural/Miracles, Rated R
Title: The Apostle of Tarsus II: Faithfully (Chapters 8-12)
Fandoms: Supernatural/Miracles X-over
Pairings: Sam Winchester/Theresa Callan, Dean/OFC
Rating: Adult (R)
Word Count: 24,055 total
Warnings: A few Het sex scenes that are graphic in an R-rated way. Language. Brief drug references. Sequel to " The Apostle of Tarsus Chps 1-7."
Summary: Sometimes, when I think of what Castiel did to us, I want to kill him. But most days, I thank him.
Author's Notes: I decided to release a part II of this story instead of waiting for the entire thing to be done because it was getting pretty long, and also because of season 8 of SPN. They've introduced a character that is referenced in my story, but our interpretations of that character will be VERY different. I wanted to make it clear that I came up with my interpretation years ago, which is why we write that character so differently. Eventually, there will be a part III.
Yes, "Cochise" is a Cheers reference. ;)
(Of course, the following lyric by Journey is supposed to be "a music man," but I think you'll understand why I made the small change.)
They say that the road ain't no place to start a family
Right down the line it's been you and me
And loving a hunting man ain't always what it's supposed to be
Oh girl, you stand by me
I'm forever yours
Faithfully...
Chapter 8: The Ledge
Word Count: 5,149
Something I learned from the conversation that followed: My brother is far more cynical and prone to be suspicious of others' motives than I am. I kind of already knew that, but our talk about how Castiel had fooled me brought it home more than ever. As I went through all the things Castiel had told me and listened to Dean shoot it all down, I realized that I had been too anxious to help, too anxious to believe. Maybe it was the instant affinity I had felt with my son, the adult version of him anyway, that kept me from questioning Cas's story. Anything I could have done to help Paul, I would have done.
My head in my hands, I groaned, "I guess now we know why Cas didn't send you back too."
"Damn straight." Dean let out a sigh. "So tell me, how old did this child version of Alva Keel look?"
Another thing I had missed... "God, Dean, I am such an idiot," I replied, running my hands through my hair. "That man out there told us that he was in college in 1985, right?"
"Yeah."
"Which, if you assume he was of normal college age, makes him born sometime in the mid-1960s. If it had been 1978 when I met him, he should have been in his lower teens."
"...But the kid didn't look that old, did he?"
"No," I groaned. "The kid I met couldn't have been older than ten. Maybe... eight or so."
Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Cas really put one over on you."
"Don't remind me."
Dean continued, "I can see why he didn't send me back with you. The Eagles thing, and the billboard... both things you wouldn't really pick up on, but me - "
"You practically have Animal House memorized."
"Yeah," Dean laughed. He clapped his hands together. "Well, this is pretty intense, Sammy, but it's not hopeless. The fact is, your girl is pregnant with your child, and you deserve to be with them. You have a right to raise your kid. We've just got to convince Castiel to take us back to 1972."
I looked at him. "Is that all?" I said sarcastically.
Standing up, Dean came over to me and put both hands on my shoulders. "Sammy, I am not letting this go, okay? Castiel cannot use my baby brother as a sperm donor and just get away with it. That little jerk is taking us back to 1972 or I'm going to ram his head up his ass and dropkick him back to Heaven." Tears came to my eyes, to which Dean caught me up in a hug. "I'm going to fix it, okay? We'll get you back to Theresa."
"Are you sure, Dean? It's so much to ask of you," I said. "It's a whole different world. Years before you and me were even born."
Dean shrugged. "Sammy, this is the woman you want to marry. It's your son, my nephew. They're our family now. I can't be unhappy as long as I'm with my family."
To that, I hugged him gratefully. "Thank you, Dean. I don't know what I would have done if you had said you wouldn't come back with me."
We discussed what this would mean for the coming Apocalypse. It was decided that going back to 1972 would be a good course of action because Lucifer and Michael couldn't fight, causing the destruction of civilization, if they didn't have their vessels. Whether or not they would find us in the past would remain to be seen.
*****
Castiel was out for a few hours. The members of SQ left us alone while we talked, but after a while, they grew anxious and impatient. I think they were worried that I had done something to put Cas in his current condition. As if he knew, Castiel fought his way to consciousness and asked to be taken to Dean and I. Mr. Keel and Evelyn brought the angel to us.
Paul stayed away on purpose. I could feel it. I had freaked him out, and he didn't think I was safe now. But that was something I could fix.
The first thing Castiel said when they brought him in the room was, "Dean. Sam. I want to talk to you."
Dean took Cas by the arm. "It's okay, I've got him."
"Do you want us to leave, Castiel?" Evelyn asked. She glanced at me, accusation in her eyes.
"Yes, it's alright," he replied.
He was unsteady on his feet, but awake. Castiel looked like hell, though. Dean waited for Mr. Keel and Evelyn to leave, then brought Cas closer to a nearby dusty armchair. With a snap of his arm, he flung Castiel into the chair roughly. It took Cas by surprise; he landed in a poof of dust with a grunt, then just looked up at Dean and straightened himself in the seat, a look of confusion on his tired face.
"Oh, sorry. Guess I don't know my own strength," Dean said with a snide little shrug.
Castiel's eyes shifted awkwardly. "You're angry."
Leaning down until they were eye to eye, Dean spoke with such intensity that his anger could not be denied. "What tipped you off?"
Usually, only demons and angels like Zachariah receive such a steely look from my brother. Castiel wasn't used to being in this position. "I'm sorry, Dean. Sam. But it had to be done."
Dean continued glaring at him for another five or so seconds, five or so very tense seconds where the only sound in the room was Dean's furious breathing. Then he straightened up. "You know, I could almost understand what you did. You needed Sam to hook up with this woman, you needed Paul Callan to be conceived. It was all to save the world. That's some pretty intense shit. It was the way you went about it that I can't abide by. If I didn't think it would hurt Sam more than it would hurt you, I'd hold you down right now and let him beat the shit out of you for how you handled this.
"Cas, did you ever think it might've been better if you'd just told Sam the truth?"
"Things were never meant to go this far," Castiel responded. It was the first time I'd seen guilt on his face since I'd found out what he'd been up to. "What if I had told Sam the truth? Do you think anything would have turned out differently? Do you think it would have been possible for Sam to impregnate Theresa Callan and then just leave if he had known everything?" He grew more frustrated, his voice strained. "We're working with a very precarious balance here, Dean. Paul Callan must be born. All we know is that in no alternate universe does Theresa wind up with Sam. Her name is always Theresa Callan. She dies unmarried. Her son grows up in an orphanage. What could happen if we allow that to change? Are you willing to take those chances with the lives of everyone on this planet? Well I'm sorry, but I'm not." Cas pounded his fist on the arm of the chair, kicking up a fresh cloud of dust.
It took Dean a few seconds to digest what he'd just heard. "You're saying that there are alternate universes with Sams and Theresas and Deans in them?"
"Yes."
"And in none of those universes does this end happily for my brother?"
"Exactly."
"So you're thinking that if you allow Sam and Theresa to be together, it will somehow fuck up this balance you're trying to preserve."
Castiel nodded.
"Cas..." Circling the room as he spoke, Dean did something he's very good at - he talked us down off the ledge. "Do you remember when we were trapped in the Beautiful Room together, just waiting for the Apocalypse to begin, and you wouldn't let me out to stop Sam from freeing Lucifer? Do you remember the lesson I taught you there?"
Castiel gave it some thought. "You taught me about the value of freedom."
"Yes. I told you that I'd rather have Sam and all the pain that love can bring than Paradise any day. We as humans take the good with the bad just to have the freedom to make our own decisions. My feelings on that haven't changed.
"I don't care what's happened in all these other universes. The world may have been saved there, but that doesn't mean it can't be saved here too. It doesn't mean we can't create a new example, a universe where Theresa becomes a Winchester and Sam helps raise his child." Dean squeezed the angel's shoulder. "You rebelled for a reason, Cas. You can't keep being afraid of taking chances. It's what life on Earth is all about."
With an anguished expression and a long sigh, Castiel thought it over. "Joshua said it was up to me. I just want to make the right decision."
I came over to him then, placing my hand over his and squeezing it. "Castiel, please... I want to be with Theresa and Paul. Please take the chance." I would get down on my knees and beg if I had to.
Looking down at my hand, Cas's expression was as troubled as I've ever seen it. So full of sorrow and uncertainty. He looked up at Dean. "You believe in this so much that you're willing to make the sacrifice of living in a time you've never known?"
With great sincerity, Dean nodded and said, "Yes."
Cas folded his hands, thinking, trying to come up with every possible scenario. "What about Theresa? She said she didn't want to see you anymore."
I nodded. "That doesn't mean we can't change her mind."
With a confident smile, Dean added, "I'm Michael's vessel. I can convince her Sammy is okay."
Castiel knew our logic was sound; there wasn't anything else he could say that would sway us. "Theresa is a devout Catholic... the words of the vessel of Michael would hold a great deal of weight with her." Once more, he sighed. "Alright. We can try it." He looked at me. "But if Theresa rejects you, you have to agree to come back to 2010."
"It's agreed," I said with relief.
I was lying, though. If Theresa rejected me, I would stay and keep trying to convince her to take me back. I would never leave my son and the woman I love like the Sams of those other dimensions. Nothing would be allowed to break me.
I knew what would happen to Theresa and Paul if I gave up.
*****
There were many things to consider before heading back to 1972. This would be, as far as we knew, for the rest of our lives. All of Dad's storage spaces, gone. Everything in them, gone. We wouldn't be there to pay the bills anymore. Maybe we could convince Cas to take us back to empty them out before it was too late - he had all of time at his disposal - but we had to leave assuming that we may never see some of those things again.
When I thought of Tress and our son, it didn't matter. I would leave it all behind for them.
We would not see the Bobby we knew again. That hurt most of all.
But there was one family member we might be able to take; we just had to convince Castiel that it was worth the effort. "You want me to transport your car back to 1972?"
Sheepishly, Dean replied, "Yeah?"
Cas glared at him for a moment. "It means that much to you?"
"That and more." Dean ran a hand over the Impala's hood. "She's like a family member."
"But I've already worn myself out taking Sam through time. You, your brother, and a car..." Castiel shook his head, grumbling to himself.
Shrugging, Dean said, "We could always wait until you feel better..."
Cas shook his head again. "No, no... it's too dangerous for Sam to be around his adult son for too long. Nothing can upset - "
"The balance, yeah, I know. We don't want adult Paul to know too much about his own destiny. Who knows when the Apocalypse will actually happen, huh?"
Castiel nodded. "Yes. Alright... we'll go today... and I'll try to transport your car back as well."
The look on his face... he had never carried anything but people through time, and that could lay him up for a day or more. "Cas, are you sure you'll be okay if you take the car with us?"
His face said it all. Eyes wide, eyebrows up, and a cynical twist to his mouth... "Do you want me to lie to you?"
"So it's risky."
To that, Castiel let out a little chuckle. "I've found that everything with you two involves a bit of risk." He smiled sincerely at me. "But I think I owe it to you to try."
I grinned back. "We'll make sure we have a room ready for you once we get there."
The corners of Cas's smile turned up a little more.
I added, "Thank you, Castiel."
He looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry I had to deceive you. I never meant to hurt you, Sam. Or Theresa."
"I know." I came over and gave him a pat on the shoulder.
Before we left, Castiel said we had five minutes to say goodbye to the members of SQ. And of course, he cautioned me on what to say. I knew the risks, and I knew exactly what to say to my son.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Evelyn asked Castiel. "Maybe you shouldn't travel right now."
He waved off her concern. "Don't worry, I'll be alright." Cas tried to smile. "Angels are built pretty tough."
"Do you really have to go? We've still got an Apocalypse to deal with," Mr. Keel reminded us.
"Don't worry about that either, Mr. Keel," I responded. "We'll take care of it."
"We're hoping to head it off at the pass," added Dean.
It seemed Paul had relaxed a bit, but he was still reluctant to let his guard down. He held out his hand for me to shake. "Wherever you go, good luck."
At first, I took his hand and shook it, but then I pulled him into a hug. Paul squirmed a little, then accepted my hug politely. When I moved away, I kissed his cheek. He looked at me like I'd grown another head before his eyes. The look of confusion on his face almost made me laugh with fondness.
"You'll never be alone again, Paul. I promise," I told him.
Paul scoffed. "Okay."
He thought I was crazy. It didn't matter. It was important to me to tell him that.
I wouldn't see the adult version of my son for several years.
Dean and I took the time to write a letter to Bobby, explaining where we were going and that if he saw us again, we wouldn't be as he remembered us. We included the keys to all Dad's storage lockers so maybe Bobby could look after them. It seemed final then, when we dropped that thick envelope in the mail. We were really going back in time for good.
While I waited by the Impala, Dean stood alone beside the post office and made a phone call to someone. I'm not sure who, but it was someone he would miss. He deserved to take that time to say goodbye.
Dean and I sat in the front seat of the Impala as Cas stood before the car, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. He concentrated, preparing himself to transport us all back to 1972.
"You think he can really do this?" I asked Dean.
Cas raised both hands, the first two fingers on each pointing up.
Dean grabbed the steering wheel. "We're about to find out."
I held onto the car too as Castiel put his fingers on the hood.
*****
The next thing we knew, we were on a road next to a field, the Boston of 2010 behind us. I looked at Dean, his hands still on the steering wheel. He opened one eye for a peek.
We had made it. The post office was gone; it hadn't been built yet.
I yelled out to Castiel. "Is this 1972?"
Cas answered me by vomiting blood all over the hood of the Impala. Then he collapsed to the ground.
"Castiel!" It shouldn't have been so shocking to us; it wasn't like we hadn't see him collapse after a time jump before. But the sight of that blood, and the sheer amount of it... it had us rushing to his side. We carried him to the backseat of the car and placed Cas inside, laying him down to make him as comfortable as possible. Jimmy Novak, the vessel, was still breathing, a good sign. He would just need some rest as usual. How much rest, we had no idea.
It took us over five minutes to find an unattended garden hose and outdoor faucet with which we could wash the blood from the hood of the car. Although we had to drive around to find the hose, worried the whole time that someone would see the blood running off our car, no one was around. Just a plot of farmland with a small house on it.
I was about as nervous as I have ever been as we rode the elevator up to Tress's floor. In a way, I wished we could have had Cas with us, mostly so he could explain himself to Tress and Father Calero, but we had to leave him passed out in the back of the Impala. I hoped they would not think I had hurt Cas in some way, like Paul had; that certainly wouldn't help.
We decided it would be best if Dean spoke first. He knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Father Calero asked.
"Dean Winchester," Dean responded, calm and collected. Then he added, "You know who I am."
There was a pause. I imagined Father Calero checking the peephole. "What are you doing here with him?" the priest finally said.
"He's my brother," Dean answered, "and you have nothing to fear from him. I'm asking you to let us in so we can talk."
I could hear Tress and Father Calero talking back and forth for a moment before he disengaged all the locks and opened the door. "I'm letting you in because you're the vessel of Michael the archangel, and that makes you someone I am obligated to indulge. But I want you both to realize that our minds are made up. Theresa is coming back to the church with me and - "
"Save it, Padre," Dean said, putting up a silencing hand. "I already know that part."
Tress stared at Dean in awe. "You're just as the articles described," she said to him. It was weird for me, seeing the way she looked at my brother. I knew there was nothing romantic about that look, but it still made me jealous, especially since she viewed me as a monster. "You're Michael's vessel."
"That's right. And you know what that means?" Dean played every card he had in his deck. He glared at Father Calero. "It means you should show me some respect."
Father Calero's face twitched only slightly, but it was enough to tell us that Dean's ploy was working. He actually said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
Putting on a charming smile, Dean replied, "That's okay. Now, as you can see, Castiel brought us both back."
"Castiel? Is that..."
"The rebel angel," Dean confirmed. "These trips through time wear him out, so he's resting in our car. Cas brought me here because I wanted to talk to you about my brother."
Tress glanced at me, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "I don't know what you think you can say to - "
"Theresa, hear me out, okay?"
She gave a little shiver when he said "Theresa," like her name had been spoken by a revered creature. Another stab of jealousy nicked at my heart.
Dean continued. "I have known Sam for his entire life. I have been there for practically every minute. No one knows my brother better than I do. No one has been through as much as I have with him. I have changed his diapers, cleaned his wounds, picked him up when he fell down and dressed his skinned knees... I have gotten his meals, made sure he left for school on time, and even watched him sleep. Some people might say that I have been like a parent to him when our father couldn't. And I'm telling you, I know his heart."
At this point, I began to tear up.
"I'm not saying that Sam is perfect. He's just as flawed as any human being. And I'm not saying that he hasn't been manipulated in the past and done some foolish things. But my brother cares a lot more than even I do for what's right, and doing what's moral, and living his life in the most fair and compassionate way possible. When I have given up on someone, he still makes an effort to reach them. Lord knows he has no reason to be hopeful after all we've been through, but he still has an amazing capacity for it, even after I have thrown in the towel. The fact that he's Lucifer's vessel has nothing to do with his character, I assure you."
Tress now looked at me, and she teared up as well.
Dean put a hand over his heart. "I promise you... I swear to you... Sam will never say yes to Lucifer. Lucifer can't possess him unless he gives his permission. Sam knows what would happen if he did that. We're trying to avoid an Apocalypse here. I know your Bible says this thing is supposed to happen someday, but not like this. There's nothing natural or destiny-related about the way this Apocalypse began. And Sam certainly has more than ever to lose now that he has you, Theresa, and your child. Why would he let the world be destroyed when he has a family to think of?" Looking at her stomach, he grinned fondly. "I can't wait to be an uncle. Please, let me be a part of this. Let us both be a part of this."
Out of emotion, Tress sucked in a breath and started to cry again. She looked at Father Calero. "I don't know what to do."
He patted her shoulder. "Dean, you said the Apocalypse has already begun. I don't understand..."
"It's going on right now, in the year we came from."
"2010," I added quietly. My voice quavered with emotion too.
"But it can't be completed unless we accept Lucifer and Michael into our bodies and fight to the death."
"And that will never happen," I said.
"I don't understand why you're here, then," Father Calero wondered aloud. "Why are you in the year 1972?"
"So Paul could be conceived," Dean explained. "It's probably better if Cas gives you all the details once he's awake. But that baby you're carrying, Theresa, he's a very important vessel. A holy vessel."
She ran her hands over her stomach. "An angel?"
Dean nodded. "One of the strongest. We don't know if he'll ever have to act as that vessel, but Castiel and others in high places thought it was absolutely essential that he be born."
For the first time since that morning, Tress smiled, rubbing her stomach lovingly. "He's not a child of evil?"
"No... no, Theresa. Not at all. For some reason, he needed the combination of Lucifer's vessel and you to be born as this ultra strong vessel. No other combination would work." Dean reached over and stroked my head a few times, smiling fondly. "It doesn't really surprise me that my brother would make a vessel like that. One that could save the world. It's like I told you..." He squeezed the back of my neck gently, giving me a little shake. "...no one knows my Sammy like I do."
Tress watched us, a small smile coming to her face. "I... I'm conflicted over this. On one hand, I know what you are, Sam. But on the other hand..." She put both palms over her heart. "You two love each other so much. It's written all over your faces, your body language... it's so genuine. How could Sam be evil if you... Michael's vessel... love him that much?"
We were reaching her. I approached Tress, and she did not move away. Getting down on one knee before her, I took Tress's hand. "Please, give me the chance to be a father to our child. Give me the chance to prove to you that I'm still the Sam you know. I'm a good person. That hasn't changed." I thought of what she'd said, and it hurt. "How could you think that we made a child of evil after all we've been through together?"
Tears overcame her again. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's just..."
"We made Paul out of love and passion. That wasn't an evil act."
"I know. I know."
"Tress, please, I'll beg if I have to. Please let me prove to you that there's nothing evil about me or our life together. I could never be a bad person as long as I have you, and Paul, and Dean. Let me show you what a great husband and father I can be." I held her hand and kissed the back of it. "Marry me, Tress."
Putting her hand to her mouth, she cried for a moment, weighing it all out in her mind. "Oh Sam," she said, and hugged me around the neck. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Tress crouched down and we held each other and both bawled like babies. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know you're not evil. You can't help what you are. I'm sorry I tried to send you away."
We kissed several times, as if there was no one else in the room. "It's okay. I know it must've been hard to hear such a thing about the person you love."
"After I felt how much you and your brother love each other, I knew you couldn't be evil. No one can manufacture feelings like that."
So her empathy had redeemed us after all.
I was so wrapped up in reconciling with Tress that I was only dimly aware of Dean's conversation with Father Calero. "You're still worried about my brother."
There must have been something in the priest's reaction to Tress accepting my marriage proposal; the look on his face, the continued tenseness of his shoulders... Father Calero sighed. "I am. I'm not sure that this isn't all some elaborate manipulation of Theresa's feelings. He's the vessel of Lucifer for God's sake."
"I promise you, this is all very genuine. No one's manipulating Theresa into anything." I looked over and saw Dean put a hand on the priest's shoulder. "Sam will never... never... say yes to Lucifer."
"I wish that even you could convince me."
"Okay... then think of it this way. If it comes to that, and Sam says yes, then me and Michael will be there to face Lucifer. Alright? It's not going to happen, but does knowing that make you happy?" Dean was starting to get angry; there was an edge to his voice.
Father Calero nodded. "Yes. Yes, it does make me feel better."
"Alright, then." He gestured toward the door. "Will you accompany me to Sam's hotel? I need someone to help me carry Castiel up to his room, where he can rest." Then Dean looked at Tress and I. "These two deserve some time alone after what they've been through today."
"Wait," Father Calero began. He turned to us. "If this baby is such an important vessel, then I think you all should go into hiding. Let the church protect you from Lucifer. Surely he wouldn't want this vessel to be born."
I immediately replied, "No. Paul is going to have a normal childhood."
"Sam - "
"Father Calero, I appreciate your concern." I stood, bringing Tress to her feet with me. "But in the dimension we came from, I met the adult version of my son. He had grown up without me, because Tress sent me away. In fact, Paul grew up in an orphanage - your orphanage. In that dimension, Tress died of a brain tumor in 1978."
Tress squeezed me tight around the chest with a shiver. I held her close to me.
"That Paul had a childhood filled with grief and loneliness. I'm not saying that you didn't do a good job raising him and giving him as much love as you could, but you must've had a hundred kids to take care of over all those years. I want Paul's childhood to be as normal as possible, with the love of both his parents, and his uncle too. He's not going to spend it hiding from the world because Lucifer might find us here."
Rubbing his chin, Father Calero asked, "You say Theresa dies of a brain tumor in 1978? Is... is something like that destined to happen in this dimension too?"
I stroked Tress's hair. "No, it's not going to happen here, because we're going to prevent it. Tress will have checkups as often as it takes to keep the cancer from coming back." Inside, I prayed that CAT scans would come into use very, very soon, so she wouldn't have to endure another PEG.
Father Calero nodded again, letting out a breath and relaxing a bit. "Good. Ah, Theresa, are you sure about all this?"
She nodded her head at him. "It's alright now."
"Okay. But... just so we're clear... Sam, we'll be keeping an eye on you." The priest looked at me with intensity, eyes steely. "The church will not allow Theresa or her child to be hurt."
With a roll of his eyes, Dean put a warning hand on Father Calero's shoulder. "Easy, Padre. Don't let your mouth write any checks your ass can't cash."
Father Calero stared at him in slight confusion. "What?"
"Nothing, just come with me, okay? Sam won't hurt anybody while we're gone." He steered the priest toward the door. Over his shoulder, he said, "Sammy, I'll be back in a couple hours."
"Okay."
As they were going out the door, Dean added, "This is going to be interesting. A priest and some dude carrying a guy in a trench coat through a hotel lobby. We'll have to pretend Cas is drunk or something." He chuckled. "It'll be quite a sight."
I gave Dean the key to my hotel room and they were gone. Tress wrapped her arms around my neck again. "I promise I'll get you a ring as soon as I can," I told her, running my hands up and down her sides. "A beautiful diamond ring."
She kissed me, then moved my hand up to her breast. "Make love to me," Tress whispered.
I did. We made love slow and easy, and everything was okay again.
*****
Chapter 9: Religious Experience
Word Count: 4,981
I could tell that Dean was concerned for us after all we'd been through that day; instead of staying in the hotel room with Cas, he left him a note and slept on Tress's couch so he could watch over us for a few days.
It was funny how Tress hero-worshipped Dean at first, and how brief that lasted. She looked at him as some sort of holy being, as if he wasn't even human - the vessel of Michael the archangel! But all it took was Dean coming in for breakfast, hair sticking up all over the place while he poured himself a cup of coffee, standing in the kitchen in his boxers and a T-shirt and throwing in a loud burp for good measure, to shatter her image of the holy vessel. I watched the awe slowly vanish from her face as Dean reached back and gave his ass a good scratch. "G'morning," he mumbled on his way back to the living room, where he put some cartoons on the TV.
Tress had to be alone for a little while after that. When I mentioned it to her, she sighed and said, "Even Jesus was human, I guess."
Another day went by before Castiel woke up. That car must've really tired him out. We found out he was awake because he just popped in while we were having lunch, scaring Tress half to death.
"Hello again, Theresa."
She let out a little scream. "How the heck did you get in - oh."
Cas smiled with his mouth closed.
"Hey Cas. How ya feelin'?" Dean asked.
"I'm well, thank you." His hands clasped behind his back, he looked at us. "How are all of you?"
We exchanged pleasantries and Tress indulged her curiosity for a moment, asking if she could touch Cas's skin. He let her put a hand on his cheek. "It feels normal. Just like a regular guy."
"How did you expect it to feel?"
"I don't know. Hot? He's got an angel inside him." The awe was back, but that was okay. Cas was unlikely to shatter her image of him by scratching his ass. "What's it like to travel through time?"
Castiel immediately responded with, "Exhausting."
She turned to Dean and I. "Is it weird to be back in a time where you technically haven't been born yet?"
"Sometimes."
"I think the hardest thing to get used to will be the lack of technology. No Internet, no cell phones... but, we lived without them when we were little." Dean shrugged. "It's not that bad, living in 1972." Suddenly, something occurred to him and he got this emotional, overwhelmed look on his face. "It's 1972."
"Yeah... Dean, what's the matter?" I asked.
His eyes were glistening. Dean stammered out, "In 1973, Led Zeppelin will release 'Houses of the Holy,' and embark on a tour of North America. They'll play three sold out shows at Madison Square Garden which will be taped for their concert film The Song Remains the Same. And... and I can be there." We were all quite shocked when he stood up, went over to Cas, and kissed him full on the lips. Tress and I stifled our giggles. "Thank you for bringing me here!" Dean cried.
Flummoxed, Castiel nearly blushed. He simply replied, "You're welcome, Dean."
I was glad that Dean was finding ways to be happy in a strange time. He did it all for me, for us, and the thought of him being miserable in 1972 would not have set well with me.
Once she'd recovered from her giggle fit, Tress said, "That's amazing, that you've heard Led Zeppelin albums that haven't even been released yet." She worked on getting to know her future brother-in-law better. "My favorite songs by them are probably 'Rock n' Roll,' 'Misty Mountain Hop,' and 'Stairway to Heaven.' What are yours?"
I'd heard him talk about this a hundred times over the years. "Oh, that's easy. 'Ramble On' and 'Travelin' Riverside Blues.' Yours are good too, though."
"I've never heard of that second song."
"It won't be released until the '80s, when they put out 'Coda.'"
"Wow, I can't wait to hear this album." Tress rested her chin in her hand and let out a dreamy sigh. "I wish I was from the future."
That sounded so absurd, I couldn't help it; I dissolved into chuckles.
Dean looked at me quite seriously. "Hey, as long as it hasn't happened yet, can we save John Bonham?"
*****
Tress and I were married two months later. There wasn't time and money for a big church wedding, something I knew bothered her.
"In a couple years, we can renew our vows and have the wedding you really want," I promised her. Tress nodded and smiled, cuddling up against me in bed. "With Father Calero marrying us, and a big fancy reception..."
"And a beautiful white dress," she added.
"Then we can honeymoon in Hawaii."
Tress made a wounded sound in the back of her throat. "And my mother will come to the ceremony."
All I could do was hold her and try to soothe her hurt. Her mother had ignored all her letters of reconciliation. She had said nothing in reply to Tress's good news about the cancer going into remission. When Tress tried to call and invite her to the wedding, the woman had hung up on her.
I gave it a try myself. "Mrs. Callan?"
"Who is this?" She sounded like a brusk, authoritative person who had no time for anyone who might waste it. The kind of woman Dean would call a "high-riding bitch."
"My name is Sam. I'm calling - "
"The Sam my daughter is marrying?"
"Yes, and - "
Click.
Tress and I were married in a simple ceremony at City Hall. They allowed us to decorate a bit, with lots of roses (Tress's favorite flower). Dean served as my Best Man and Michelle from work acted as Tress's Maid of Honor.
Mrs. Callan did not show her face at the ceremony. It would take something else entirely to finally bring her to Boston.
When Tress was six months pregnant, she disappeared for almost two weeks. We had been packing in preparation for a new, two bedroom apartment, which would be our transitional place. Eventually, we wanted to get a house, a real home for Paul, where he could have his own room. When I came home from work that day, I found a half-packed box near the kitchen and a dinner that was only partially made. There was a bowl of chopped lettuce on the counter and a tomato on the cutting board; it had been sliced three times and then the knife had been set down. Like she had suddenly left right in the middle of making a salad, without covering any of it or putting it in the fridge to keep it fresh. Strange.
"Tress?" I called to the empty apartment. She was not there.
I made some phone calls. No one had seen her. She wasn't hanging out at any of the usual places she might be found.
I was frantic. I had a pregnant wife, no cell phones to make it easier to reach her, and the threat of Lucifer and demons looming over our heads. Dean tried to keep me calm. If demons had taken her, wouldn't there be signs of a struggle? I thought that was likely. Still, where was my wife?
One of the first persons I questioned was Cas. He claimed he knew nothing. Being that he had lied to me in the past, I wasn't sure I believed him.
Bizarre stories began circulating in the local news. A man who lived in the building next to ours had been stricken blind when he looked out his window and saw "the brightest light" he'd ever seen in his life floating in the air next to our building. Close to our floor. Close to the window of our kitchen.
Again, I interrogated Castiel. "A bright light? Some guy sees a light bright enough to blind him next to our window and you're telling me you know nothing?"
"Sam, I'm telling you the truth."
"Tress has obviously been taken by some sort of angel and you insist you know nothing about it?!"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. Whatever's going on, no one has told me." Cas sighed, his face looking almost as worried as mine. "They wouldn't hurt Paul. I swear, there isn't an angel alive who would harm the vessel of a Seraph. No one would dare."
"But, what about Uriel? He killed other angels in Lucifer's name. All it takes is an angel who wants to make sure the Apocalypse happens, and..." Getting choked up, I almost started to cry. "You and I both know there are plenty of them who would die for Lucifer. Those angels wouldn't care if they pissed off a Seraph."
I don't think Castiel had thought of that. He looked quite wide-eyed and distraught in reaction. "I'll talk to Joshua. See what I can find out."
Almost two weeks later, another strange story emerged in the news. This one scared the hell out of all of us and sent me into a frenzied, tearful rage that lasted all night.
A homeowner in Houston, Texas had caught a woman in his home, leaning over his baby's crib at around three in the morning. When she turned around, he saw that she had streaks of blood on her face.
And no eyes.
Instead, her eye sockets were filled with ice blue light. She had some sort of liquid, the same shade of blue, on her fingers. The man ordered her to move away from the crib, pulling the gun he used to protect his home. She did not respond. When the woman tried to walk past him, he told her to stay put until the police arrived. She did not comply. He shot her in the chest. She ignored this and walked out of the house.
The woman was pregnant.
She matched Tress's description.
In fact, the man lived close to a bank, and the woman was caught on the surveillance cameras that monitored the parking lot. It was my Tress.
The rest of the country found it a bizarre little tidbit to mull over for a brief moment, then go on with their day. I suspect most thought it was a hoax, while those who believed in "that sort of stuff" would form their theories on who or what had stolen into the family's home that night.
We already knew.
Dean and Castiel tried to calm me down. "So Tress is possessed by the angel who took her. How can she be possessed?" I sobbed to Cas. "You told me she wasn't a vessel."
"She's not," Castiel replied. He sat down on the end of bed where I was sitting, the bed I shared with Tress. "Theresa is not a vessel... but she's carrying one."
I brought my head up. Dean and I shared a look. "What? The angel is possessing Paul?"
"How can that be?" Dean asked. "How do you get permission to possess a fetus?"
"This angel is a Seraph. He has remarkable powers. There are ways for him to communicate with Paul, even in the womb."
"But what for? What's it up to?" Dean said.
Cas looked up at Dean. "You haven't figured that out yet?"
Sniffling, I said, "The Seraph was leaning over the baby's crib. He was feeding something to the baby, just like Yellow Eyes did to me. Was it angel blood?"
"Angel blood is the same color as the vessel's blood," Castiel said, shaking his head. "Though, Seraphim are different... far more powerful than myself..."
"Whatever it was, I bet the Seraph was doing the same thing Yellow Eyes had been up to," Dean said. "Strengthening vessels."
I added, "Creating an army."
Castiel nodded. "I'm sure that he's preparing for the coming Apocalypse." Then he put his hand over mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Sam, the Seraph wouldn't do anything to harm his vessel. I'm sure that Theresa will come home safe."
I wished that could have made me feel better. "But will she come home in the same condition as she left?"
Would my wife come home a blind woman with burned out eyes? Would she have a bullet in her? Or would the Seraph leave her as he found her?
And how long would this angel's "mission" take? How long would Tress be gone?
It was the next morning that we first heard from the absent mother-in-law. I answered the phone, and she snapped, "What is happening to my daughter?"
"Mrs. Callan?"
"Yes, Mrs. Callan. I saw the news. What the hell is going on over there?"
How did I explain this? And what right did she have to be angry anyway, after refusing our calls? "This isn't something I want to explain over the phone."
"So you can explain it?"
The incredulous tone to her voice almost made me laugh. Yes, it was quite a crazy story already, just from how it looked. "Sort of."
"Listen, you. I know you knocked my daughter up and got her to marry you, but that doesn't mean you have the right to do... whatever it is you've done..."
"I haven't done anything!" I snapped back. Just what did the woman think I could have done to Tress that would cause something as strange as what she'd seen on the news? "And why is it any concern of yours anyway? After you've ignored her letters and hung up on both of us, then broke her heart by skipping our wedding? Now you care?"
"You...!" I could hear her breathing hard, trying to contain her anger. "Alright. I know I've been stubborn and unforgiving, but that doesn't mean I don't love Terry. Whatever I have to do, I'm going to get to the bottom of this. Mark my words."
And she hung up on me. Again.
That two week period was one of the hardest of my life. Stricken with worry, I could hardly work, but I needed to, to earn money for our future. Tress didn't want us to get our money illegally, so Dean went to work as a mechanic in a local garage, and I kept working my busboy job. It was a Saturday, and I had been lugging one heavy tub of dishes and glasses after another into the humid kitchen area. It left me pretty tired. I had just sat down and wiped my brow with the back of my hand when I looked up and saw Tress standing there. She looked at me, bewildered, alarmed, and reached out her arms.
Her eyes were intact. Thank God in heaven, Tress had eyes again.
"Sam?" she said.
She looked okay. The streaks of blood on her face seemed to have been partially wiped off, as if she'd tried to do it without the aid of soap and water.
"Tress!" I cried, and jumped up, taking her in my arms and hugging her tightly. "You're okay!" Even as I said that, I held her at arm's length and checked her out. There was a bullet hole in her blouse, just above her heart, with a ring of blood around the edges. I peeked inside and saw no bullet hole in her chest. Apparently, the Seraph had healed her. Thank God. "Oh Tress, he brought you back okay!"
We held each other while a few of the patrons stared at us, wondering what was going on. We're lucky none of them recognized her. Although it made the national news, it wasn't that big a headline anyway. Most people seemed to think it was all fake.
"Sam, what happened to me? I blacked out or something. I was in the kitchen and I saw this light, and there was a voice, and then I was here, in the lobby. There was so much light," she babbled.
She didn't remember it. Of course. It was just like Jimmy Novak - his memory had been very limited on what the experience of being possessed by an angel was like. But in Tress's case, she hadn't even been the one possessed.
I tried to reassure her. "It's okay, baby. You're alright. I'll explain it to you when we get home."
Bo came running over. "Hey, Theresa! It's Theresa! She's okay!" He looked at her blood-streaked face. "Where have you been? Are you alright? You were gone for so long!"
"I was?" Tress looked at me helplessly. I have never seen such confusion and anguish on her face at once, all wide, pained eyes and tense mouth.
"Bo, she's okay. I'm going to take her home and look after her. I'll give you the full story once I know it."
Bo nodded at me, patting Tress's shoulder.
As I was walking Tress out of the hotel, she caught sight of a newspaper machine near the front door. The date on the newspaper made her knees go weak. "Sam, is that date correct? It can't be! It's supposed to be March fifth. How can it be the seventeenth?!"
I kept her from falling to her knees, holding her up. "Tress, I promise it'll be okay. Let's just get home and I'll explain everything."
"Sam, what's happening?" she nearly wailed.
"I'll explain when we get home."
Once outside, I hailed us a cab. Tress cried on my chest the entire way home. She was so scared. I think anybody would be.
As if Tress's reappearance wasn't surprise enough, I got another one when we arrived home. I opened the door, and Dean jumped up from the couch, saying, "Sam? You home early?" His face showed complete shock at the sight of Tress. "Theresa! Holy shit, where did you come from?"
Before either of us could say a word, a woman with dark hair came out of the kitchen and rushed to Tress's side. "Terry? Oh, Terry, are you okay?"
"Mom?" Tress looked at the woman, confused to see her, moving slowly as if she was in a bewildering dream. "Mommy? What are you doing here?"
"I had to come when I saw you on the news," Mrs. Callan explained.
Eyes wide, Tress squeaked, "I was on the news?!"
Mrs. Callan took Tress's face in her hands. "You have blood on your face. Are you alright?"
Tress teared up again. "I have blood..."
"She doesn't remember anything," I said, trying to explain, hoping to let everyone know that they should be careful with what they said.
Tress repeated my words. "Mom, I don't remember anything."
Hugging her daughter, Mrs. Callan tried to reassure her. "It's alright, honey. You come with Mommy into the bedroom and lie down, and I'll get you a rag to clean up your face." She put a hand on Tress's stomach. "You look like you've swallowed a basketball," she commented with a small laugh.
Tress ran her hands over her pregnant belly. "I'm six months along," she said weakly, as if she needed to explain.
Taking Tress into the bedroom to lie down is exactly what I would have done, so I didn't stop her mother when she led her into the bedroom, leaving Dean and I alone. Dean said, "She got here about an hour ago."
"Well, she did say she was going to get to the bottom of this." Having my mother-in-law there was a bit inconvenient, but it would be good for Tress. They could finally make up before Paul was born. "Did you tell her anything?"
"I didn't know what I should tell her. She's been in the kitchen making dinner, just to have something to do."
I nodded. "Tress just showed up at the hotel, out of nowhere. The Seraph fixed all her injuries, thank God."
"I'm glad that she came back okay, Sammy. It's a big relief for all of us. So, what are we going to tell her?" Dean asked.
Sighing, I answered his question with another question. "Who, Tress or her mother?"
We decided that the truth was the best answer, for both of them. It wasn't like Mrs. Callan would voluntarily leave the room while we explained it to Tress. When we came into the bedroom, Tress was lying down with a wet, folded rag on her forehead. I noticed that her mother had gotten her to change clothes, and had washed her face. The blouse with the bullet hole in it had been draped across the top of the hamper.
Again, Tress was caressing her stomach. "He's kicking," she said. "Paul is okay."
I could understand why she was concerned, after finding out she'd been missing for days and had no memory of what she'd been doing. "Can I see?"
Mrs. Callan got up from the side of the bed to allow me to sit down next to Tress and feel her stomach. My son kicked like a soccer player. "He feels perfectly healthy," I said with relief. Taking Tress's hand, I kissed her palm and ran her fingers across my cheek. "I'm glad that you're okay, too. We were worried about you."
"Sam, what happened to me?"
"What's the last thing you remember?" I asked.
Thinking about it for a second, she replied, "I was making a salad to go along with dinner, and suddenly there was this piercing whine that came from outside, it seemed. And the window in the kitchen filled with light. I remember hearing this voice... it didn't sound normal... very deep, and guttural, but it was... it was more like I heard it in my head than with my ears. It said, 'Don't be afraid.' But I didn't even have time to be afraid, it happened so fast. I turned to look at the light and there was pain... a little bit of pain in my head... and I don't remember much after that." Tress put her free hand to her head as she recalled the feelings she'd experienced the day she disappeared. "Just, light. Rushing, moving, burning light. Fire that burned bright, so bright. So warm. Most of the time, I felt like I was floating in a warm bath. Occasional voices, and a flash of pain, with a loud bang. Then I was in the lobby of The Millstone."
Mrs. Callan listened to all of this, a troubled look on her face, her arms crossed. In her dark, tailored dress and her classic, pinned back hairstyle, she reminded me of a 1950s TV mother, complete with a string of pearls.
I looked up at her, and patted Tress's hand. "This must all sound pretty weird to you."
My mother-in-law sighed. "It sounds like some sort of religious experience."
That was helpful, very helpful. Mrs. Callan was a fairly devout Catholic, and had raised her daughter the same way. It would make the explanation all the easier, I hoped. "Mrs. Callan, do you believe in angels?"
"Of course," she said very matter-of-factly, like it was a dumb question.
"Do you believe people can commune with angels?"
With a nod, Mrs. Callan said, "People communed with angels in the Bible."
"That's what your daughter saw. She had... an experience... with an angel."
"Castiel?" Tress asked, then gasped in surprise. "No. The Seraph."
Now Mrs. Callan looked surprised, or rather, shocked. "A Seraph? You're telling me that my daughter communed with one of the Seraphim?"
Dean and I both nodded. "When an angel walks the Earth, he or she must take a human host, a vessel. The baby that Tress is carrying is that vessel."
"So... the Seraph possessed Paul?" Her face troubled and frightened, Tress rubbed her hands protectively over her stomach. "Why did it possess my baby? He hasn't even been born yet. It wouldn't hurt Paul, would it?"
I stroked the side of her face in an effort to soothe her and calm her down. "No, the Seraph wouldn't hurt his vessel. That wouldn't make sense, would it?"
"I guess not."
"If it will make you feel better, we can make an appointment with the doctor and have a sonogram. Make sure Paul looks okay."
Tress nodded.
"I'm not sure I'm following all this," Mrs. Callan said. "Why is your baby such an important vessel? Why you two?" She suddenly laughed. "I'm taking this remarkably well, aren't I?"
"Like a champ," Dean threw in.
I did what I could to explain. "It was pretty out there to us too, when we first learned it all. From what we've been told, those who are descended from Biblical folk become vessels. It's a bloodline. Paul is my son, so he's a vessel. Somehow, he became one of the strongest vessels ever known." I hoped we wouldn't have to tell her whose vessel I was supposed to be; I had nightmarish visions of my mother-in-law doing the same thing Father Calero had tried to do, and packing Tress's bags for her.
"It should be crazy to me, the idea of angels communing with unborn babies and whatnot, but what kind of Christian would I be if I didn't believe in the words of my own holy scripture?" Mrs. Callan said.
Relieved, I nodded at her. This was all so much easier if we could bypass the belief part and get right to the explanations.
"What was the Seraph doing?" Tress asked. "Why did it possess Paul?"
Dean and I shared an awkward look. How much did we say in front of Mrs. Callan? "It was building an army."
"What do you mean?"
"Mrs. Callan, I know this is going to be a bit much to take, but it's true. The Apocalypse is coming. But it's not God's will at all."
She furrowed her brow, taking a deep breath; the skeptical look on her face told me she was trying to decide whether or not to accept what I was saying.
I went on. "Some of the angels decided that they wanted Paradise on Earth, and the best way to make that happen was to force the Apocalypse to begin. It's not supposed to happen now. We're going to stop it. The Seraph will possess Paul, and his army will back him up in a battle to save the world."
Mrs. Callan started to giggle. "I'm sorry, I understand what you're saying, but it sounds like a comic book."
"We know it sounds crazy," Dean said. "We kinda specialize in crazy."
Gesturing to my brother, I added, "Dean will act as the vessel of Michael the Archangel."
Mrs. Callan laughed harder, covering her mouth. "Him? You've got to be kidding."
"Hey..." Dean protested.
"I don't mean any offense, your holiness." She snickered at her own joke. "It's just, while we were waiting for Sam to come home, you got calls from three different girls and spoke to each of them as if she was your one and only. You're a playboy." She looked him up and down. "That makes you hardly the angelic type."
Dean shrugged. "No one was more surprised to find all this out than me."
Now, Mrs. Callan looked at me and asked me the question I'd been dreading. "Whose vessel will you be?"
At that moment, Tress took my hand and simply held it, looking at me with dewy eyes filled with love. Giving me hope and strength and making me realize that my answer was not Lucifer, because I would never, ever act as his vessel. "No one's," I replied, and squeezed her hand back. "Absolutely no one's."
"This all sounds very scary and dramatic. I think... I think I need some time to take it all in. What I saw in that news report about my daughter cannot be explained by normal means, and the story you've told is anything but ordinary. Perhaps I'll be able to reconcile it all in my mind. In the meantime, I'll stay until Theresa has her examination, just to make sure the baby is alright." Mrs. Callan approached me. "I don't feel like I've properly met you. I'm your mother-in-law. You may call me Mom if you like." She stuck out her hand.
I shook it awkwardly. It would take some time for us to build up to a hug. "Okay, Mom. I'm Sam Winchester, your son-in-law."
"I apologize for not being there for the wedding. I was stubborn and foolish." She bent over, stroking Tress's hair back off her forehead. "I'm sure you made a beautiful bride." Looking at me, Mrs. Callan scoffed. "And I bet you made a very interesting groom. My Lord, you're a giant. Did you ever play basketball?"
Dean chuckled.
I shook my head. "Soccer, but no basketball."
"Bigfoots don't like playing indoors," Dean threw in.
Now Tress chuckled.
"This one's funny. Now, I suppose I should unpack my suitcase. Where can I put my things?"
"Oh, it's your choice, really. We've got a hotel room at The Millstone that Dean uses when he's not sleeping on the couch. You'd be very comfortable there." Hey, nosy mother-in-law, putting her up in a room that was out of our immediate space; it was worth a shot.
Of course, she did the stereotypical mother-in-law thing and kicked me out of my own room. "It should be just as comfortable for Dean, then, while I sleep here."
"Oh Mother, we can't ask you to sleep on the couch," Tress said.
Mrs. Callan replied, "I won't be. I'll be sleeping with you in your bed, dear." She smiled thinly at me. "Our men of chivalry here couldn't possibly expect me to sleep on the couch."
I hid my disappointment in an effort to get along with her. "Of course not, Mom. I'll, um, sleep on the couch."
Dean walked over and gave the woman a hug. She did not hug back, only stood there with her arms at her sides, a stunned look upon her face. He clapped her on the back. "I like you," Dean said.
I just rolled my eyes and went to look for the extra blankets. On my way to the closet, I heard Tress ask, "Why was I on the news?"
Jesus, it was going to be a long night.
*****
On to Chapters 10-11
Fandoms: Supernatural/Miracles X-over
Pairings: Sam Winchester/Theresa Callan, Dean/OFC
Rating: Adult (R)
Word Count: 24,055 total
Warnings: A few Het sex scenes that are graphic in an R-rated way. Language. Brief drug references. Sequel to " The Apostle of Tarsus Chps 1-7."
Summary: Sometimes, when I think of what Castiel did to us, I want to kill him. But most days, I thank him.
Author's Notes: I decided to release a part II of this story instead of waiting for the entire thing to be done because it was getting pretty long, and also because of season 8 of SPN. They've introduced a character that is referenced in my story, but our interpretations of that character will be VERY different. I wanted to make it clear that I came up with my interpretation years ago, which is why we write that character so differently. Eventually, there will be a part III.
Yes, "Cochise" is a Cheers reference. ;)
(Of course, the following lyric by Journey is supposed to be "a music man," but I think you'll understand why I made the small change.)
They say that the road ain't no place to start a family
Right down the line it's been you and me
And loving a hunting man ain't always what it's supposed to be
Oh girl, you stand by me
I'm forever yours
Faithfully...
Chapter 8: The Ledge
Word Count: 5,149
Something I learned from the conversation that followed: My brother is far more cynical and prone to be suspicious of others' motives than I am. I kind of already knew that, but our talk about how Castiel had fooled me brought it home more than ever. As I went through all the things Castiel had told me and listened to Dean shoot it all down, I realized that I had been too anxious to help, too anxious to believe. Maybe it was the instant affinity I had felt with my son, the adult version of him anyway, that kept me from questioning Cas's story. Anything I could have done to help Paul, I would have done.
My head in my hands, I groaned, "I guess now we know why Cas didn't send you back too."
"Damn straight." Dean let out a sigh. "So tell me, how old did this child version of Alva Keel look?"
Another thing I had missed... "God, Dean, I am such an idiot," I replied, running my hands through my hair. "That man out there told us that he was in college in 1985, right?"
"Yeah."
"Which, if you assume he was of normal college age, makes him born sometime in the mid-1960s. If it had been 1978 when I met him, he should have been in his lower teens."
"...But the kid didn't look that old, did he?"
"No," I groaned. "The kid I met couldn't have been older than ten. Maybe... eight or so."
Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Cas really put one over on you."
"Don't remind me."
Dean continued, "I can see why he didn't send me back with you. The Eagles thing, and the billboard... both things you wouldn't really pick up on, but me - "
"You practically have Animal House memorized."
"Yeah," Dean laughed. He clapped his hands together. "Well, this is pretty intense, Sammy, but it's not hopeless. The fact is, your girl is pregnant with your child, and you deserve to be with them. You have a right to raise your kid. We've just got to convince Castiel to take us back to 1972."
I looked at him. "Is that all?" I said sarcastically.
Standing up, Dean came over to me and put both hands on my shoulders. "Sammy, I am not letting this go, okay? Castiel cannot use my baby brother as a sperm donor and just get away with it. That little jerk is taking us back to 1972 or I'm going to ram his head up his ass and dropkick him back to Heaven." Tears came to my eyes, to which Dean caught me up in a hug. "I'm going to fix it, okay? We'll get you back to Theresa."
"Are you sure, Dean? It's so much to ask of you," I said. "It's a whole different world. Years before you and me were even born."
Dean shrugged. "Sammy, this is the woman you want to marry. It's your son, my nephew. They're our family now. I can't be unhappy as long as I'm with my family."
To that, I hugged him gratefully. "Thank you, Dean. I don't know what I would have done if you had said you wouldn't come back with me."
We discussed what this would mean for the coming Apocalypse. It was decided that going back to 1972 would be a good course of action because Lucifer and Michael couldn't fight, causing the destruction of civilization, if they didn't have their vessels. Whether or not they would find us in the past would remain to be seen.
*****
Castiel was out for a few hours. The members of SQ left us alone while we talked, but after a while, they grew anxious and impatient. I think they were worried that I had done something to put Cas in his current condition. As if he knew, Castiel fought his way to consciousness and asked to be taken to Dean and I. Mr. Keel and Evelyn brought the angel to us.
Paul stayed away on purpose. I could feel it. I had freaked him out, and he didn't think I was safe now. But that was something I could fix.
The first thing Castiel said when they brought him in the room was, "Dean. Sam. I want to talk to you."
Dean took Cas by the arm. "It's okay, I've got him."
"Do you want us to leave, Castiel?" Evelyn asked. She glanced at me, accusation in her eyes.
"Yes, it's alright," he replied.
He was unsteady on his feet, but awake. Castiel looked like hell, though. Dean waited for Mr. Keel and Evelyn to leave, then brought Cas closer to a nearby dusty armchair. With a snap of his arm, he flung Castiel into the chair roughly. It took Cas by surprise; he landed in a poof of dust with a grunt, then just looked up at Dean and straightened himself in the seat, a look of confusion on his tired face.
"Oh, sorry. Guess I don't know my own strength," Dean said with a snide little shrug.
Castiel's eyes shifted awkwardly. "You're angry."
Leaning down until they were eye to eye, Dean spoke with such intensity that his anger could not be denied. "What tipped you off?"
Usually, only demons and angels like Zachariah receive such a steely look from my brother. Castiel wasn't used to being in this position. "I'm sorry, Dean. Sam. But it had to be done."
Dean continued glaring at him for another five or so seconds, five or so very tense seconds where the only sound in the room was Dean's furious breathing. Then he straightened up. "You know, I could almost understand what you did. You needed Sam to hook up with this woman, you needed Paul Callan to be conceived. It was all to save the world. That's some pretty intense shit. It was the way you went about it that I can't abide by. If I didn't think it would hurt Sam more than it would hurt you, I'd hold you down right now and let him beat the shit out of you for how you handled this.
"Cas, did you ever think it might've been better if you'd just told Sam the truth?"
"Things were never meant to go this far," Castiel responded. It was the first time I'd seen guilt on his face since I'd found out what he'd been up to. "What if I had told Sam the truth? Do you think anything would have turned out differently? Do you think it would have been possible for Sam to impregnate Theresa Callan and then just leave if he had known everything?" He grew more frustrated, his voice strained. "We're working with a very precarious balance here, Dean. Paul Callan must be born. All we know is that in no alternate universe does Theresa wind up with Sam. Her name is always Theresa Callan. She dies unmarried. Her son grows up in an orphanage. What could happen if we allow that to change? Are you willing to take those chances with the lives of everyone on this planet? Well I'm sorry, but I'm not." Cas pounded his fist on the arm of the chair, kicking up a fresh cloud of dust.
It took Dean a few seconds to digest what he'd just heard. "You're saying that there are alternate universes with Sams and Theresas and Deans in them?"
"Yes."
"And in none of those universes does this end happily for my brother?"
"Exactly."
"So you're thinking that if you allow Sam and Theresa to be together, it will somehow fuck up this balance you're trying to preserve."
Castiel nodded.
"Cas..." Circling the room as he spoke, Dean did something he's very good at - he talked us down off the ledge. "Do you remember when we were trapped in the Beautiful Room together, just waiting for the Apocalypse to begin, and you wouldn't let me out to stop Sam from freeing Lucifer? Do you remember the lesson I taught you there?"
Castiel gave it some thought. "You taught me about the value of freedom."
"Yes. I told you that I'd rather have Sam and all the pain that love can bring than Paradise any day. We as humans take the good with the bad just to have the freedom to make our own decisions. My feelings on that haven't changed.
"I don't care what's happened in all these other universes. The world may have been saved there, but that doesn't mean it can't be saved here too. It doesn't mean we can't create a new example, a universe where Theresa becomes a Winchester and Sam helps raise his child." Dean squeezed the angel's shoulder. "You rebelled for a reason, Cas. You can't keep being afraid of taking chances. It's what life on Earth is all about."
With an anguished expression and a long sigh, Castiel thought it over. "Joshua said it was up to me. I just want to make the right decision."
I came over to him then, placing my hand over his and squeezing it. "Castiel, please... I want to be with Theresa and Paul. Please take the chance." I would get down on my knees and beg if I had to.
Looking down at my hand, Cas's expression was as troubled as I've ever seen it. So full of sorrow and uncertainty. He looked up at Dean. "You believe in this so much that you're willing to make the sacrifice of living in a time you've never known?"
With great sincerity, Dean nodded and said, "Yes."
Cas folded his hands, thinking, trying to come up with every possible scenario. "What about Theresa? She said she didn't want to see you anymore."
I nodded. "That doesn't mean we can't change her mind."
With a confident smile, Dean added, "I'm Michael's vessel. I can convince her Sammy is okay."
Castiel knew our logic was sound; there wasn't anything else he could say that would sway us. "Theresa is a devout Catholic... the words of the vessel of Michael would hold a great deal of weight with her." Once more, he sighed. "Alright. We can try it." He looked at me. "But if Theresa rejects you, you have to agree to come back to 2010."
"It's agreed," I said with relief.
I was lying, though. If Theresa rejected me, I would stay and keep trying to convince her to take me back. I would never leave my son and the woman I love like the Sams of those other dimensions. Nothing would be allowed to break me.
I knew what would happen to Theresa and Paul if I gave up.
*****
There were many things to consider before heading back to 1972. This would be, as far as we knew, for the rest of our lives. All of Dad's storage spaces, gone. Everything in them, gone. We wouldn't be there to pay the bills anymore. Maybe we could convince Cas to take us back to empty them out before it was too late - he had all of time at his disposal - but we had to leave assuming that we may never see some of those things again.
When I thought of Tress and our son, it didn't matter. I would leave it all behind for them.
We would not see the Bobby we knew again. That hurt most of all.
But there was one family member we might be able to take; we just had to convince Castiel that it was worth the effort. "You want me to transport your car back to 1972?"
Sheepishly, Dean replied, "Yeah?"
Cas glared at him for a moment. "It means that much to you?"
"That and more." Dean ran a hand over the Impala's hood. "She's like a family member."
"But I've already worn myself out taking Sam through time. You, your brother, and a car..." Castiel shook his head, grumbling to himself.
Shrugging, Dean said, "We could always wait until you feel better..."
Cas shook his head again. "No, no... it's too dangerous for Sam to be around his adult son for too long. Nothing can upset - "
"The balance, yeah, I know. We don't want adult Paul to know too much about his own destiny. Who knows when the Apocalypse will actually happen, huh?"
Castiel nodded. "Yes. Alright... we'll go today... and I'll try to transport your car back as well."
The look on his face... he had never carried anything but people through time, and that could lay him up for a day or more. "Cas, are you sure you'll be okay if you take the car with us?"
His face said it all. Eyes wide, eyebrows up, and a cynical twist to his mouth... "Do you want me to lie to you?"
"So it's risky."
To that, Castiel let out a little chuckle. "I've found that everything with you two involves a bit of risk." He smiled sincerely at me. "But I think I owe it to you to try."
I grinned back. "We'll make sure we have a room ready for you once we get there."
The corners of Cas's smile turned up a little more.
I added, "Thank you, Castiel."
He looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry I had to deceive you. I never meant to hurt you, Sam. Or Theresa."
"I know." I came over and gave him a pat on the shoulder.
Before we left, Castiel said we had five minutes to say goodbye to the members of SQ. And of course, he cautioned me on what to say. I knew the risks, and I knew exactly what to say to my son.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Evelyn asked Castiel. "Maybe you shouldn't travel right now."
He waved off her concern. "Don't worry, I'll be alright." Cas tried to smile. "Angels are built pretty tough."
"Do you really have to go? We've still got an Apocalypse to deal with," Mr. Keel reminded us.
"Don't worry about that either, Mr. Keel," I responded. "We'll take care of it."
"We're hoping to head it off at the pass," added Dean.
It seemed Paul had relaxed a bit, but he was still reluctant to let his guard down. He held out his hand for me to shake. "Wherever you go, good luck."
At first, I took his hand and shook it, but then I pulled him into a hug. Paul squirmed a little, then accepted my hug politely. When I moved away, I kissed his cheek. He looked at me like I'd grown another head before his eyes. The look of confusion on his face almost made me laugh with fondness.
"You'll never be alone again, Paul. I promise," I told him.
Paul scoffed. "Okay."
He thought I was crazy. It didn't matter. It was important to me to tell him that.
I wouldn't see the adult version of my son for several years.
Dean and I took the time to write a letter to Bobby, explaining where we were going and that if he saw us again, we wouldn't be as he remembered us. We included the keys to all Dad's storage lockers so maybe Bobby could look after them. It seemed final then, when we dropped that thick envelope in the mail. We were really going back in time for good.
While I waited by the Impala, Dean stood alone beside the post office and made a phone call to someone. I'm not sure who, but it was someone he would miss. He deserved to take that time to say goodbye.
Dean and I sat in the front seat of the Impala as Cas stood before the car, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. He concentrated, preparing himself to transport us all back to 1972.
"You think he can really do this?" I asked Dean.
Cas raised both hands, the first two fingers on each pointing up.
Dean grabbed the steering wheel. "We're about to find out."
I held onto the car too as Castiel put his fingers on the hood.
*****
The next thing we knew, we were on a road next to a field, the Boston of 2010 behind us. I looked at Dean, his hands still on the steering wheel. He opened one eye for a peek.
We had made it. The post office was gone; it hadn't been built yet.
I yelled out to Castiel. "Is this 1972?"
Cas answered me by vomiting blood all over the hood of the Impala. Then he collapsed to the ground.
"Castiel!" It shouldn't have been so shocking to us; it wasn't like we hadn't see him collapse after a time jump before. But the sight of that blood, and the sheer amount of it... it had us rushing to his side. We carried him to the backseat of the car and placed Cas inside, laying him down to make him as comfortable as possible. Jimmy Novak, the vessel, was still breathing, a good sign. He would just need some rest as usual. How much rest, we had no idea.
It took us over five minutes to find an unattended garden hose and outdoor faucet with which we could wash the blood from the hood of the car. Although we had to drive around to find the hose, worried the whole time that someone would see the blood running off our car, no one was around. Just a plot of farmland with a small house on it.
I was about as nervous as I have ever been as we rode the elevator up to Tress's floor. In a way, I wished we could have had Cas with us, mostly so he could explain himself to Tress and Father Calero, but we had to leave him passed out in the back of the Impala. I hoped they would not think I had hurt Cas in some way, like Paul had; that certainly wouldn't help.
We decided it would be best if Dean spoke first. He knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Father Calero asked.
"Dean Winchester," Dean responded, calm and collected. Then he added, "You know who I am."
There was a pause. I imagined Father Calero checking the peephole. "What are you doing here with him?" the priest finally said.
"He's my brother," Dean answered, "and you have nothing to fear from him. I'm asking you to let us in so we can talk."
I could hear Tress and Father Calero talking back and forth for a moment before he disengaged all the locks and opened the door. "I'm letting you in because you're the vessel of Michael the archangel, and that makes you someone I am obligated to indulge. But I want you both to realize that our minds are made up. Theresa is coming back to the church with me and - "
"Save it, Padre," Dean said, putting up a silencing hand. "I already know that part."
Tress stared at Dean in awe. "You're just as the articles described," she said to him. It was weird for me, seeing the way she looked at my brother. I knew there was nothing romantic about that look, but it still made me jealous, especially since she viewed me as a monster. "You're Michael's vessel."
"That's right. And you know what that means?" Dean played every card he had in his deck. He glared at Father Calero. "It means you should show me some respect."
Father Calero's face twitched only slightly, but it was enough to tell us that Dean's ploy was working. He actually said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
Putting on a charming smile, Dean replied, "That's okay. Now, as you can see, Castiel brought us both back."
"Castiel? Is that..."
"The rebel angel," Dean confirmed. "These trips through time wear him out, so he's resting in our car. Cas brought me here because I wanted to talk to you about my brother."
Tress glanced at me, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "I don't know what you think you can say to - "
"Theresa, hear me out, okay?"
She gave a little shiver when he said "Theresa," like her name had been spoken by a revered creature. Another stab of jealousy nicked at my heart.
Dean continued. "I have known Sam for his entire life. I have been there for practically every minute. No one knows my brother better than I do. No one has been through as much as I have with him. I have changed his diapers, cleaned his wounds, picked him up when he fell down and dressed his skinned knees... I have gotten his meals, made sure he left for school on time, and even watched him sleep. Some people might say that I have been like a parent to him when our father couldn't. And I'm telling you, I know his heart."
At this point, I began to tear up.
"I'm not saying that Sam is perfect. He's just as flawed as any human being. And I'm not saying that he hasn't been manipulated in the past and done some foolish things. But my brother cares a lot more than even I do for what's right, and doing what's moral, and living his life in the most fair and compassionate way possible. When I have given up on someone, he still makes an effort to reach them. Lord knows he has no reason to be hopeful after all we've been through, but he still has an amazing capacity for it, even after I have thrown in the towel. The fact that he's Lucifer's vessel has nothing to do with his character, I assure you."
Tress now looked at me, and she teared up as well.
Dean put a hand over his heart. "I promise you... I swear to you... Sam will never say yes to Lucifer. Lucifer can't possess him unless he gives his permission. Sam knows what would happen if he did that. We're trying to avoid an Apocalypse here. I know your Bible says this thing is supposed to happen someday, but not like this. There's nothing natural or destiny-related about the way this Apocalypse began. And Sam certainly has more than ever to lose now that he has you, Theresa, and your child. Why would he let the world be destroyed when he has a family to think of?" Looking at her stomach, he grinned fondly. "I can't wait to be an uncle. Please, let me be a part of this. Let us both be a part of this."
Out of emotion, Tress sucked in a breath and started to cry again. She looked at Father Calero. "I don't know what to do."
He patted her shoulder. "Dean, you said the Apocalypse has already begun. I don't understand..."
"It's going on right now, in the year we came from."
"2010," I added quietly. My voice quavered with emotion too.
"But it can't be completed unless we accept Lucifer and Michael into our bodies and fight to the death."
"And that will never happen," I said.
"I don't understand why you're here, then," Father Calero wondered aloud. "Why are you in the year 1972?"
"So Paul could be conceived," Dean explained. "It's probably better if Cas gives you all the details once he's awake. But that baby you're carrying, Theresa, he's a very important vessel. A holy vessel."
She ran her hands over her stomach. "An angel?"
Dean nodded. "One of the strongest. We don't know if he'll ever have to act as that vessel, but Castiel and others in high places thought it was absolutely essential that he be born."
For the first time since that morning, Tress smiled, rubbing her stomach lovingly. "He's not a child of evil?"
"No... no, Theresa. Not at all. For some reason, he needed the combination of Lucifer's vessel and you to be born as this ultra strong vessel. No other combination would work." Dean reached over and stroked my head a few times, smiling fondly. "It doesn't really surprise me that my brother would make a vessel like that. One that could save the world. It's like I told you..." He squeezed the back of my neck gently, giving me a little shake. "...no one knows my Sammy like I do."
Tress watched us, a small smile coming to her face. "I... I'm conflicted over this. On one hand, I know what you are, Sam. But on the other hand..." She put both palms over her heart. "You two love each other so much. It's written all over your faces, your body language... it's so genuine. How could Sam be evil if you... Michael's vessel... love him that much?"
We were reaching her. I approached Tress, and she did not move away. Getting down on one knee before her, I took Tress's hand. "Please, give me the chance to be a father to our child. Give me the chance to prove to you that I'm still the Sam you know. I'm a good person. That hasn't changed." I thought of what she'd said, and it hurt. "How could you think that we made a child of evil after all we've been through together?"
Tears overcame her again. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's just..."
"We made Paul out of love and passion. That wasn't an evil act."
"I know. I know."
"Tress, please, I'll beg if I have to. Please let me prove to you that there's nothing evil about me or our life together. I could never be a bad person as long as I have you, and Paul, and Dean. Let me show you what a great husband and father I can be." I held her hand and kissed the back of it. "Marry me, Tress."
Putting her hand to her mouth, she cried for a moment, weighing it all out in her mind. "Oh Sam," she said, and hugged me around the neck. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Tress crouched down and we held each other and both bawled like babies. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know you're not evil. You can't help what you are. I'm sorry I tried to send you away."
We kissed several times, as if there was no one else in the room. "It's okay. I know it must've been hard to hear such a thing about the person you love."
"After I felt how much you and your brother love each other, I knew you couldn't be evil. No one can manufacture feelings like that."
So her empathy had redeemed us after all.
I was so wrapped up in reconciling with Tress that I was only dimly aware of Dean's conversation with Father Calero. "You're still worried about my brother."
There must have been something in the priest's reaction to Tress accepting my marriage proposal; the look on his face, the continued tenseness of his shoulders... Father Calero sighed. "I am. I'm not sure that this isn't all some elaborate manipulation of Theresa's feelings. He's the vessel of Lucifer for God's sake."
"I promise you, this is all very genuine. No one's manipulating Theresa into anything." I looked over and saw Dean put a hand on the priest's shoulder. "Sam will never... never... say yes to Lucifer."
"I wish that even you could convince me."
"Okay... then think of it this way. If it comes to that, and Sam says yes, then me and Michael will be there to face Lucifer. Alright? It's not going to happen, but does knowing that make you happy?" Dean was starting to get angry; there was an edge to his voice.
Father Calero nodded. "Yes. Yes, it does make me feel better."
"Alright, then." He gestured toward the door. "Will you accompany me to Sam's hotel? I need someone to help me carry Castiel up to his room, where he can rest." Then Dean looked at Tress and I. "These two deserve some time alone after what they've been through today."
"Wait," Father Calero began. He turned to us. "If this baby is such an important vessel, then I think you all should go into hiding. Let the church protect you from Lucifer. Surely he wouldn't want this vessel to be born."
I immediately replied, "No. Paul is going to have a normal childhood."
"Sam - "
"Father Calero, I appreciate your concern." I stood, bringing Tress to her feet with me. "But in the dimension we came from, I met the adult version of my son. He had grown up without me, because Tress sent me away. In fact, Paul grew up in an orphanage - your orphanage. In that dimension, Tress died of a brain tumor in 1978."
Tress squeezed me tight around the chest with a shiver. I held her close to me.
"That Paul had a childhood filled with grief and loneliness. I'm not saying that you didn't do a good job raising him and giving him as much love as you could, but you must've had a hundred kids to take care of over all those years. I want Paul's childhood to be as normal as possible, with the love of both his parents, and his uncle too. He's not going to spend it hiding from the world because Lucifer might find us here."
Rubbing his chin, Father Calero asked, "You say Theresa dies of a brain tumor in 1978? Is... is something like that destined to happen in this dimension too?"
I stroked Tress's hair. "No, it's not going to happen here, because we're going to prevent it. Tress will have checkups as often as it takes to keep the cancer from coming back." Inside, I prayed that CAT scans would come into use very, very soon, so she wouldn't have to endure another PEG.
Father Calero nodded again, letting out a breath and relaxing a bit. "Good. Ah, Theresa, are you sure about all this?"
She nodded her head at him. "It's alright now."
"Okay. But... just so we're clear... Sam, we'll be keeping an eye on you." The priest looked at me with intensity, eyes steely. "The church will not allow Theresa or her child to be hurt."
With a roll of his eyes, Dean put a warning hand on Father Calero's shoulder. "Easy, Padre. Don't let your mouth write any checks your ass can't cash."
Father Calero stared at him in slight confusion. "What?"
"Nothing, just come with me, okay? Sam won't hurt anybody while we're gone." He steered the priest toward the door. Over his shoulder, he said, "Sammy, I'll be back in a couple hours."
"Okay."
As they were going out the door, Dean added, "This is going to be interesting. A priest and some dude carrying a guy in a trench coat through a hotel lobby. We'll have to pretend Cas is drunk or something." He chuckled. "It'll be quite a sight."
I gave Dean the key to my hotel room and they were gone. Tress wrapped her arms around my neck again. "I promise I'll get you a ring as soon as I can," I told her, running my hands up and down her sides. "A beautiful diamond ring."
She kissed me, then moved my hand up to her breast. "Make love to me," Tress whispered.
I did. We made love slow and easy, and everything was okay again.
*****
Chapter 9: Religious Experience
Word Count: 4,981
I could tell that Dean was concerned for us after all we'd been through that day; instead of staying in the hotel room with Cas, he left him a note and slept on Tress's couch so he could watch over us for a few days.
It was funny how Tress hero-worshipped Dean at first, and how brief that lasted. She looked at him as some sort of holy being, as if he wasn't even human - the vessel of Michael the archangel! But all it took was Dean coming in for breakfast, hair sticking up all over the place while he poured himself a cup of coffee, standing in the kitchen in his boxers and a T-shirt and throwing in a loud burp for good measure, to shatter her image of the holy vessel. I watched the awe slowly vanish from her face as Dean reached back and gave his ass a good scratch. "G'morning," he mumbled on his way back to the living room, where he put some cartoons on the TV.
Tress had to be alone for a little while after that. When I mentioned it to her, she sighed and said, "Even Jesus was human, I guess."
Another day went by before Castiel woke up. That car must've really tired him out. We found out he was awake because he just popped in while we were having lunch, scaring Tress half to death.
"Hello again, Theresa."
She let out a little scream. "How the heck did you get in - oh."
Cas smiled with his mouth closed.
"Hey Cas. How ya feelin'?" Dean asked.
"I'm well, thank you." His hands clasped behind his back, he looked at us. "How are all of you?"
We exchanged pleasantries and Tress indulged her curiosity for a moment, asking if she could touch Cas's skin. He let her put a hand on his cheek. "It feels normal. Just like a regular guy."
"How did you expect it to feel?"
"I don't know. Hot? He's got an angel inside him." The awe was back, but that was okay. Cas was unlikely to shatter her image of him by scratching his ass. "What's it like to travel through time?"
Castiel immediately responded with, "Exhausting."
She turned to Dean and I. "Is it weird to be back in a time where you technically haven't been born yet?"
"Sometimes."
"I think the hardest thing to get used to will be the lack of technology. No Internet, no cell phones... but, we lived without them when we were little." Dean shrugged. "It's not that bad, living in 1972." Suddenly, something occurred to him and he got this emotional, overwhelmed look on his face. "It's 1972."
"Yeah... Dean, what's the matter?" I asked.
His eyes were glistening. Dean stammered out, "In 1973, Led Zeppelin will release 'Houses of the Holy,' and embark on a tour of North America. They'll play three sold out shows at Madison Square Garden which will be taped for their concert film The Song Remains the Same. And... and I can be there." We were all quite shocked when he stood up, went over to Cas, and kissed him full on the lips. Tress and I stifled our giggles. "Thank you for bringing me here!" Dean cried.
Flummoxed, Castiel nearly blushed. He simply replied, "You're welcome, Dean."
I was glad that Dean was finding ways to be happy in a strange time. He did it all for me, for us, and the thought of him being miserable in 1972 would not have set well with me.
Once she'd recovered from her giggle fit, Tress said, "That's amazing, that you've heard Led Zeppelin albums that haven't even been released yet." She worked on getting to know her future brother-in-law better. "My favorite songs by them are probably 'Rock n' Roll,' 'Misty Mountain Hop,' and 'Stairway to Heaven.' What are yours?"
I'd heard him talk about this a hundred times over the years. "Oh, that's easy. 'Ramble On' and 'Travelin' Riverside Blues.' Yours are good too, though."
"I've never heard of that second song."
"It won't be released until the '80s, when they put out 'Coda.'"
"Wow, I can't wait to hear this album." Tress rested her chin in her hand and let out a dreamy sigh. "I wish I was from the future."
That sounded so absurd, I couldn't help it; I dissolved into chuckles.
Dean looked at me quite seriously. "Hey, as long as it hasn't happened yet, can we save John Bonham?"
*****
Tress and I were married two months later. There wasn't time and money for a big church wedding, something I knew bothered her.
"In a couple years, we can renew our vows and have the wedding you really want," I promised her. Tress nodded and smiled, cuddling up against me in bed. "With Father Calero marrying us, and a big fancy reception..."
"And a beautiful white dress," she added.
"Then we can honeymoon in Hawaii."
Tress made a wounded sound in the back of her throat. "And my mother will come to the ceremony."
All I could do was hold her and try to soothe her hurt. Her mother had ignored all her letters of reconciliation. She had said nothing in reply to Tress's good news about the cancer going into remission. When Tress tried to call and invite her to the wedding, the woman had hung up on her.
I gave it a try myself. "Mrs. Callan?"
"Who is this?" She sounded like a brusk, authoritative person who had no time for anyone who might waste it. The kind of woman Dean would call a "high-riding bitch."
"My name is Sam. I'm calling - "
"The Sam my daughter is marrying?"
"Yes, and - "
Click.
Tress and I were married in a simple ceremony at City Hall. They allowed us to decorate a bit, with lots of roses (Tress's favorite flower). Dean served as my Best Man and Michelle from work acted as Tress's Maid of Honor.
Mrs. Callan did not show her face at the ceremony. It would take something else entirely to finally bring her to Boston.
When Tress was six months pregnant, she disappeared for almost two weeks. We had been packing in preparation for a new, two bedroom apartment, which would be our transitional place. Eventually, we wanted to get a house, a real home for Paul, where he could have his own room. When I came home from work that day, I found a half-packed box near the kitchen and a dinner that was only partially made. There was a bowl of chopped lettuce on the counter and a tomato on the cutting board; it had been sliced three times and then the knife had been set down. Like she had suddenly left right in the middle of making a salad, without covering any of it or putting it in the fridge to keep it fresh. Strange.
"Tress?" I called to the empty apartment. She was not there.
I made some phone calls. No one had seen her. She wasn't hanging out at any of the usual places she might be found.
I was frantic. I had a pregnant wife, no cell phones to make it easier to reach her, and the threat of Lucifer and demons looming over our heads. Dean tried to keep me calm. If demons had taken her, wouldn't there be signs of a struggle? I thought that was likely. Still, where was my wife?
One of the first persons I questioned was Cas. He claimed he knew nothing. Being that he had lied to me in the past, I wasn't sure I believed him.
Bizarre stories began circulating in the local news. A man who lived in the building next to ours had been stricken blind when he looked out his window and saw "the brightest light" he'd ever seen in his life floating in the air next to our building. Close to our floor. Close to the window of our kitchen.
Again, I interrogated Castiel. "A bright light? Some guy sees a light bright enough to blind him next to our window and you're telling me you know nothing?"
"Sam, I'm telling you the truth."
"Tress has obviously been taken by some sort of angel and you insist you know nothing about it?!"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. Whatever's going on, no one has told me." Cas sighed, his face looking almost as worried as mine. "They wouldn't hurt Paul. I swear, there isn't an angel alive who would harm the vessel of a Seraph. No one would dare."
"But, what about Uriel? He killed other angels in Lucifer's name. All it takes is an angel who wants to make sure the Apocalypse happens, and..." Getting choked up, I almost started to cry. "You and I both know there are plenty of them who would die for Lucifer. Those angels wouldn't care if they pissed off a Seraph."
I don't think Castiel had thought of that. He looked quite wide-eyed and distraught in reaction. "I'll talk to Joshua. See what I can find out."
Almost two weeks later, another strange story emerged in the news. This one scared the hell out of all of us and sent me into a frenzied, tearful rage that lasted all night.
A homeowner in Houston, Texas had caught a woman in his home, leaning over his baby's crib at around three in the morning. When she turned around, he saw that she had streaks of blood on her face.
And no eyes.
Instead, her eye sockets were filled with ice blue light. She had some sort of liquid, the same shade of blue, on her fingers. The man ordered her to move away from the crib, pulling the gun he used to protect his home. She did not respond. When the woman tried to walk past him, he told her to stay put until the police arrived. She did not comply. He shot her in the chest. She ignored this and walked out of the house.
The woman was pregnant.
She matched Tress's description.
In fact, the man lived close to a bank, and the woman was caught on the surveillance cameras that monitored the parking lot. It was my Tress.
The rest of the country found it a bizarre little tidbit to mull over for a brief moment, then go on with their day. I suspect most thought it was a hoax, while those who believed in "that sort of stuff" would form their theories on who or what had stolen into the family's home that night.
We already knew.
Dean and Castiel tried to calm me down. "So Tress is possessed by the angel who took her. How can she be possessed?" I sobbed to Cas. "You told me she wasn't a vessel."
"She's not," Castiel replied. He sat down on the end of bed where I was sitting, the bed I shared with Tress. "Theresa is not a vessel... but she's carrying one."
I brought my head up. Dean and I shared a look. "What? The angel is possessing Paul?"
"How can that be?" Dean asked. "How do you get permission to possess a fetus?"
"This angel is a Seraph. He has remarkable powers. There are ways for him to communicate with Paul, even in the womb."
"But what for? What's it up to?" Dean said.
Cas looked up at Dean. "You haven't figured that out yet?"
Sniffling, I said, "The Seraph was leaning over the baby's crib. He was feeding something to the baby, just like Yellow Eyes did to me. Was it angel blood?"
"Angel blood is the same color as the vessel's blood," Castiel said, shaking his head. "Though, Seraphim are different... far more powerful than myself..."
"Whatever it was, I bet the Seraph was doing the same thing Yellow Eyes had been up to," Dean said. "Strengthening vessels."
I added, "Creating an army."
Castiel nodded. "I'm sure that he's preparing for the coming Apocalypse." Then he put his hand over mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Sam, the Seraph wouldn't do anything to harm his vessel. I'm sure that Theresa will come home safe."
I wished that could have made me feel better. "But will she come home in the same condition as she left?"
Would my wife come home a blind woman with burned out eyes? Would she have a bullet in her? Or would the Seraph leave her as he found her?
And how long would this angel's "mission" take? How long would Tress be gone?
It was the next morning that we first heard from the absent mother-in-law. I answered the phone, and she snapped, "What is happening to my daughter?"
"Mrs. Callan?"
"Yes, Mrs. Callan. I saw the news. What the hell is going on over there?"
How did I explain this? And what right did she have to be angry anyway, after refusing our calls? "This isn't something I want to explain over the phone."
"So you can explain it?"
The incredulous tone to her voice almost made me laugh. Yes, it was quite a crazy story already, just from how it looked. "Sort of."
"Listen, you. I know you knocked my daughter up and got her to marry you, but that doesn't mean you have the right to do... whatever it is you've done..."
"I haven't done anything!" I snapped back. Just what did the woman think I could have done to Tress that would cause something as strange as what she'd seen on the news? "And why is it any concern of yours anyway? After you've ignored her letters and hung up on both of us, then broke her heart by skipping our wedding? Now you care?"
"You...!" I could hear her breathing hard, trying to contain her anger. "Alright. I know I've been stubborn and unforgiving, but that doesn't mean I don't love Terry. Whatever I have to do, I'm going to get to the bottom of this. Mark my words."
And she hung up on me. Again.
That two week period was one of the hardest of my life. Stricken with worry, I could hardly work, but I needed to, to earn money for our future. Tress didn't want us to get our money illegally, so Dean went to work as a mechanic in a local garage, and I kept working my busboy job. It was a Saturday, and I had been lugging one heavy tub of dishes and glasses after another into the humid kitchen area. It left me pretty tired. I had just sat down and wiped my brow with the back of my hand when I looked up and saw Tress standing there. She looked at me, bewildered, alarmed, and reached out her arms.
Her eyes were intact. Thank God in heaven, Tress had eyes again.
"Sam?" she said.
She looked okay. The streaks of blood on her face seemed to have been partially wiped off, as if she'd tried to do it without the aid of soap and water.
"Tress!" I cried, and jumped up, taking her in my arms and hugging her tightly. "You're okay!" Even as I said that, I held her at arm's length and checked her out. There was a bullet hole in her blouse, just above her heart, with a ring of blood around the edges. I peeked inside and saw no bullet hole in her chest. Apparently, the Seraph had healed her. Thank God. "Oh Tress, he brought you back okay!"
We held each other while a few of the patrons stared at us, wondering what was going on. We're lucky none of them recognized her. Although it made the national news, it wasn't that big a headline anyway. Most people seemed to think it was all fake.
"Sam, what happened to me? I blacked out or something. I was in the kitchen and I saw this light, and there was a voice, and then I was here, in the lobby. There was so much light," she babbled.
She didn't remember it. Of course. It was just like Jimmy Novak - his memory had been very limited on what the experience of being possessed by an angel was like. But in Tress's case, she hadn't even been the one possessed.
I tried to reassure her. "It's okay, baby. You're alright. I'll explain it to you when we get home."
Bo came running over. "Hey, Theresa! It's Theresa! She's okay!" He looked at her blood-streaked face. "Where have you been? Are you alright? You were gone for so long!"
"I was?" Tress looked at me helplessly. I have never seen such confusion and anguish on her face at once, all wide, pained eyes and tense mouth.
"Bo, she's okay. I'm going to take her home and look after her. I'll give you the full story once I know it."
Bo nodded at me, patting Tress's shoulder.
As I was walking Tress out of the hotel, she caught sight of a newspaper machine near the front door. The date on the newspaper made her knees go weak. "Sam, is that date correct? It can't be! It's supposed to be March fifth. How can it be the seventeenth?!"
I kept her from falling to her knees, holding her up. "Tress, I promise it'll be okay. Let's just get home and I'll explain everything."
"Sam, what's happening?" she nearly wailed.
"I'll explain when we get home."
Once outside, I hailed us a cab. Tress cried on my chest the entire way home. She was so scared. I think anybody would be.
As if Tress's reappearance wasn't surprise enough, I got another one when we arrived home. I opened the door, and Dean jumped up from the couch, saying, "Sam? You home early?" His face showed complete shock at the sight of Tress. "Theresa! Holy shit, where did you come from?"
Before either of us could say a word, a woman with dark hair came out of the kitchen and rushed to Tress's side. "Terry? Oh, Terry, are you okay?"
"Mom?" Tress looked at the woman, confused to see her, moving slowly as if she was in a bewildering dream. "Mommy? What are you doing here?"
"I had to come when I saw you on the news," Mrs. Callan explained.
Eyes wide, Tress squeaked, "I was on the news?!"
Mrs. Callan took Tress's face in her hands. "You have blood on your face. Are you alright?"
Tress teared up again. "I have blood..."
"She doesn't remember anything," I said, trying to explain, hoping to let everyone know that they should be careful with what they said.
Tress repeated my words. "Mom, I don't remember anything."
Hugging her daughter, Mrs. Callan tried to reassure her. "It's alright, honey. You come with Mommy into the bedroom and lie down, and I'll get you a rag to clean up your face." She put a hand on Tress's stomach. "You look like you've swallowed a basketball," she commented with a small laugh.
Tress ran her hands over her pregnant belly. "I'm six months along," she said weakly, as if she needed to explain.
Taking Tress into the bedroom to lie down is exactly what I would have done, so I didn't stop her mother when she led her into the bedroom, leaving Dean and I alone. Dean said, "She got here about an hour ago."
"Well, she did say she was going to get to the bottom of this." Having my mother-in-law there was a bit inconvenient, but it would be good for Tress. They could finally make up before Paul was born. "Did you tell her anything?"
"I didn't know what I should tell her. She's been in the kitchen making dinner, just to have something to do."
I nodded. "Tress just showed up at the hotel, out of nowhere. The Seraph fixed all her injuries, thank God."
"I'm glad that she came back okay, Sammy. It's a big relief for all of us. So, what are we going to tell her?" Dean asked.
Sighing, I answered his question with another question. "Who, Tress or her mother?"
We decided that the truth was the best answer, for both of them. It wasn't like Mrs. Callan would voluntarily leave the room while we explained it to Tress. When we came into the bedroom, Tress was lying down with a wet, folded rag on her forehead. I noticed that her mother had gotten her to change clothes, and had washed her face. The blouse with the bullet hole in it had been draped across the top of the hamper.
Again, Tress was caressing her stomach. "He's kicking," she said. "Paul is okay."
I could understand why she was concerned, after finding out she'd been missing for days and had no memory of what she'd been doing. "Can I see?"
Mrs. Callan got up from the side of the bed to allow me to sit down next to Tress and feel her stomach. My son kicked like a soccer player. "He feels perfectly healthy," I said with relief. Taking Tress's hand, I kissed her palm and ran her fingers across my cheek. "I'm glad that you're okay, too. We were worried about you."
"Sam, what happened to me?"
"What's the last thing you remember?" I asked.
Thinking about it for a second, she replied, "I was making a salad to go along with dinner, and suddenly there was this piercing whine that came from outside, it seemed. And the window in the kitchen filled with light. I remember hearing this voice... it didn't sound normal... very deep, and guttural, but it was... it was more like I heard it in my head than with my ears. It said, 'Don't be afraid.' But I didn't even have time to be afraid, it happened so fast. I turned to look at the light and there was pain... a little bit of pain in my head... and I don't remember much after that." Tress put her free hand to her head as she recalled the feelings she'd experienced the day she disappeared. "Just, light. Rushing, moving, burning light. Fire that burned bright, so bright. So warm. Most of the time, I felt like I was floating in a warm bath. Occasional voices, and a flash of pain, with a loud bang. Then I was in the lobby of The Millstone."
Mrs. Callan listened to all of this, a troubled look on her face, her arms crossed. In her dark, tailored dress and her classic, pinned back hairstyle, she reminded me of a 1950s TV mother, complete with a string of pearls.
I looked up at her, and patted Tress's hand. "This must all sound pretty weird to you."
My mother-in-law sighed. "It sounds like some sort of religious experience."
That was helpful, very helpful. Mrs. Callan was a fairly devout Catholic, and had raised her daughter the same way. It would make the explanation all the easier, I hoped. "Mrs. Callan, do you believe in angels?"
"Of course," she said very matter-of-factly, like it was a dumb question.
"Do you believe people can commune with angels?"
With a nod, Mrs. Callan said, "People communed with angels in the Bible."
"That's what your daughter saw. She had... an experience... with an angel."
"Castiel?" Tress asked, then gasped in surprise. "No. The Seraph."
Now Mrs. Callan looked surprised, or rather, shocked. "A Seraph? You're telling me that my daughter communed with one of the Seraphim?"
Dean and I both nodded. "When an angel walks the Earth, he or she must take a human host, a vessel. The baby that Tress is carrying is that vessel."
"So... the Seraph possessed Paul?" Her face troubled and frightened, Tress rubbed her hands protectively over her stomach. "Why did it possess my baby? He hasn't even been born yet. It wouldn't hurt Paul, would it?"
I stroked the side of her face in an effort to soothe her and calm her down. "No, the Seraph wouldn't hurt his vessel. That wouldn't make sense, would it?"
"I guess not."
"If it will make you feel better, we can make an appointment with the doctor and have a sonogram. Make sure Paul looks okay."
Tress nodded.
"I'm not sure I'm following all this," Mrs. Callan said. "Why is your baby such an important vessel? Why you two?" She suddenly laughed. "I'm taking this remarkably well, aren't I?"
"Like a champ," Dean threw in.
I did what I could to explain. "It was pretty out there to us too, when we first learned it all. From what we've been told, those who are descended from Biblical folk become vessels. It's a bloodline. Paul is my son, so he's a vessel. Somehow, he became one of the strongest vessels ever known." I hoped we wouldn't have to tell her whose vessel I was supposed to be; I had nightmarish visions of my mother-in-law doing the same thing Father Calero had tried to do, and packing Tress's bags for her.
"It should be crazy to me, the idea of angels communing with unborn babies and whatnot, but what kind of Christian would I be if I didn't believe in the words of my own holy scripture?" Mrs. Callan said.
Relieved, I nodded at her. This was all so much easier if we could bypass the belief part and get right to the explanations.
"What was the Seraph doing?" Tress asked. "Why did it possess Paul?"
Dean and I shared an awkward look. How much did we say in front of Mrs. Callan? "It was building an army."
"What do you mean?"
"Mrs. Callan, I know this is going to be a bit much to take, but it's true. The Apocalypse is coming. But it's not God's will at all."
She furrowed her brow, taking a deep breath; the skeptical look on her face told me she was trying to decide whether or not to accept what I was saying.
I went on. "Some of the angels decided that they wanted Paradise on Earth, and the best way to make that happen was to force the Apocalypse to begin. It's not supposed to happen now. We're going to stop it. The Seraph will possess Paul, and his army will back him up in a battle to save the world."
Mrs. Callan started to giggle. "I'm sorry, I understand what you're saying, but it sounds like a comic book."
"We know it sounds crazy," Dean said. "We kinda specialize in crazy."
Gesturing to my brother, I added, "Dean will act as the vessel of Michael the Archangel."
Mrs. Callan laughed harder, covering her mouth. "Him? You've got to be kidding."
"Hey..." Dean protested.
"I don't mean any offense, your holiness." She snickered at her own joke. "It's just, while we were waiting for Sam to come home, you got calls from three different girls and spoke to each of them as if she was your one and only. You're a playboy." She looked him up and down. "That makes you hardly the angelic type."
Dean shrugged. "No one was more surprised to find all this out than me."
Now, Mrs. Callan looked at me and asked me the question I'd been dreading. "Whose vessel will you be?"
At that moment, Tress took my hand and simply held it, looking at me with dewy eyes filled with love. Giving me hope and strength and making me realize that my answer was not Lucifer, because I would never, ever act as his vessel. "No one's," I replied, and squeezed her hand back. "Absolutely no one's."
"This all sounds very scary and dramatic. I think... I think I need some time to take it all in. What I saw in that news report about my daughter cannot be explained by normal means, and the story you've told is anything but ordinary. Perhaps I'll be able to reconcile it all in my mind. In the meantime, I'll stay until Theresa has her examination, just to make sure the baby is alright." Mrs. Callan approached me. "I don't feel like I've properly met you. I'm your mother-in-law. You may call me Mom if you like." She stuck out her hand.
I shook it awkwardly. It would take some time for us to build up to a hug. "Okay, Mom. I'm Sam Winchester, your son-in-law."
"I apologize for not being there for the wedding. I was stubborn and foolish." She bent over, stroking Tress's hair back off her forehead. "I'm sure you made a beautiful bride." Looking at me, Mrs. Callan scoffed. "And I bet you made a very interesting groom. My Lord, you're a giant. Did you ever play basketball?"
Dean chuckled.
I shook my head. "Soccer, but no basketball."
"Bigfoots don't like playing indoors," Dean threw in.
Now Tress chuckled.
"This one's funny. Now, I suppose I should unpack my suitcase. Where can I put my things?"
"Oh, it's your choice, really. We've got a hotel room at The Millstone that Dean uses when he's not sleeping on the couch. You'd be very comfortable there." Hey, nosy mother-in-law, putting her up in a room that was out of our immediate space; it was worth a shot.
Of course, she did the stereotypical mother-in-law thing and kicked me out of my own room. "It should be just as comfortable for Dean, then, while I sleep here."
"Oh Mother, we can't ask you to sleep on the couch," Tress said.
Mrs. Callan replied, "I won't be. I'll be sleeping with you in your bed, dear." She smiled thinly at me. "Our men of chivalry here couldn't possibly expect me to sleep on the couch."
I hid my disappointment in an effort to get along with her. "Of course not, Mom. I'll, um, sleep on the couch."
Dean walked over and gave the woman a hug. She did not hug back, only stood there with her arms at her sides, a stunned look upon her face. He clapped her on the back. "I like you," Dean said.
I just rolled my eyes and went to look for the extra blankets. On my way to the closet, I heard Tress ask, "Why was I on the news?"
Jesus, it was going to be a long night.
*****
On to Chapters 10-11