More Things in Heaven and Earth 3/4
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Chapter 3
Angels and Ministers of Grace
While Samuel puzzled and fretted over what to believe and what to do about it, Castiel hid himself and followed and puzzled over how to nudge Samuel in the right direction. The old truck backfired, though, and Castiel had an idea. As soon as Samuel had parked at the hotel and gone inside, Castiel hovered over the vehicle, hesitating only long enough to dredge up memories of watching Dean at work before gently touching just the right spot to ensure that the truck wouldn’t start again in the morning.
He kept watch over Samuel all night, ready to intercept any attempt to contact either Uriel or Crowley. The man did neither, nor did he sleep well enough for Uriel to reach his dreams. Then, when Samuel left the room to go to breakfast, Castiel quickly appeared long enough to circle the number for Mercer’s Garage in the telephone book. Sure enough, moments later, Samuel stormed back into the room, muttering curses, and called Mercer’s to have his truck towed in for repair.
Unseen and unheard, Castiel let out a small sigh of relief. If an unexpected confrontation with the one man in town Samuel knew well didn’t help, Castiel didn’t know what would.
The truck was towed into John’s berth and locked into place. John walked over to it and eyed it critically, taking in the make, model, year... and Kansas license plates. John came around the truck, looking at the repair order. “Okay, so can you tell me when you noticed trouble with-” He looked up and one of the rarest of sounds rang out. John Winchester gasped audibly.
His father-in-law replied with a highly unprintable curse. Loudly.
Which led Leo to remind them - just as loudly - that this was a family business and to keep their tongues civil, please!
“What the hell are you doing here, John?!” Samuel hissed.
“I work here, Samuel. What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead!”
“Well, I was until something yanked me out of the afterlife and told me to come investigate this town.”
“Hm.” John tapped a fingernail against his front tooth, thinking.
“What?”
“Could be angels, could be one of the stronger demons..... Not too much can pull off a resurrection like this.”
“Whatever spoke to me called himself Uriel.”
John’s face shuttered, and his eyes blazed. “Oh. HIM.”
Samuel looked at him closely. “John... tell me what you know. I’ve got two different stories, and I’m having a hell of a time figuring out what to believe.”
John pulled him around the back of the truck and sat him on the bumper.
Adjusted for perspective - he told Samuel nearly the exact same story his sons had.
Not practiced, because that would have been exactly the same.
Samuel sighed and shook his head. “So what do I do? He promised he’d bring Mary back if I did what he wanted.”
“If you do what he wants, the end of the world goes back on track.”
“We’re talking about Mary, John. I would have thought you’d want her back, too.”
“I want her back more than I can say. But I know we’ll be together again someday. And I won’t put my wants ahead of the world.”
“How do you know?” Samuel asked quietly. “You were an atheist, last I checked.”
“I know - because an angel told me.”
Samuel shifted. “Would that be Michael or Castiel? Met them last night, and that Trickster ‘brother’ of theirs, but I didn’t know what to make of ’em.”
“Make this of them - they care for the kids very, very much. And will do anything in their power to protect them.”
“Why? Why are they so special? They seem like good men, but....”
“They are good men. Very good men.”
“So why do they merit two angels and a Trickster?”
John smiled. “Looks like you’ve hit one of the questions that I can’t wrap my head around myself.”
Samuel sighed and scratched his ear. “It doesn’t make sense. Any of it. And why the hell didn’t anyone tell me you were here?”
“I’m slowly learning that not everything makes sense. Or even has to. And maybe because you hate me?”
Samuel snorted. “All the kids said was that they’d retied their ties to you. I got the impression you were still hunting.”
“I was,” John said. “But then Azazel was killed and it... it was over. I’m serving a house arrest sentence.”
Samuel blinked. “House arrest?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
John sat on the bumper and laughed softly. “Grave desecration in 48 states.”
“Yeah, but why do time for it, even if you are under the loosest definition of house arrest I’ve ever seen?”
“It’s not loose. I’m heavily monitored. I’m allowed to be at home or at work only.”
“Details. What’s the point?”
“To stay with my sons and their wives.”
“Why? Why would you retire if things are still gunning for your sons?”
John looked over at Leo and the customers then he lowered his voice. “I’m not really retired, Samuel. I’ve just shifted bases.”
Samuel frowned. “But if the only reason you can leave the house is to come here....”
John grinned. “The boys need a research man.”
Samuel’s eyebrows shot up. “You do research from home? Must have one impressive library there.”
“It’s called the Internet. And yes, I do.”
“What the hell’s an internet?”
“Oh, boy, do I have things to tell you.” He stood up. “First of all, tell me what’s up with this truck.”
“Got in it this morning and it wouldn’t start.” Samuel followed him to the front of the truck, describing the problem as John popped the hood and began his examination.
“Here’s the problem.” John pointed to the battery. “You need a charge.”
“Can you do that here? Or should I just get a new battery?”
“We can do that here but it’ll take a few hours.”
“All right. Guess I should-” Samuel broke off, staring up at the ceiling. He’d started to look up as he thought about what to do while he was waiting, and in so doing, he’d caught sight of the devil’s trap.
“Guess you should what? Of course, if you can’t wait, you could buy a battery.”
“Am I seeing things?”
John followed his gaze and smiled. “Nope.”
“Huh. Did you put that there?”
“No. Dean did.”
“Dean works here?”
“He worked here. I took over his berth.”
“Where does he work now? Or does he hunt full-time?”
“He’s a teacher at the high school.” John beamed. “Both of them are.”
“You’re kidding.”
John shook his head. “I’m not. Sam’s wife is the day manager at the Starlight and Dean’s is a librarian.”
“But they still hunt.”
“Oh, yes.”
Samuel sighed. “How far is it to the library? Maybe Daphne would show me how to use this intranets thing.”
“Four streets over. Down the other end of the street from here. Huge brick building with blue trim.” He chuckled. “Don’t ask.”
“Don’t ask what?”
“What the weird color combination means. I don’t have any clue.”
“Oh. Right.” Samuel paused. “Listen, John... thanks for shooting straight with me.”
“Sure thing, Samuel.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Look - we don’t get along. We never really did. But can’t we agree that we both loved Mary and we both love her boys?”
“I’ll get back to you on her boys, considering that I’ve met them all of once. But yeah, we did love Mary.”
John nodded and gave him back his keys.
“How soon do you think the battery will be charged?”
“Another 2 hours or so.”
“All right. I’ll be at the library until then.”
“Okay. Take care, Samuel.”
Samuel nodded and left.
Daphne looked up and smiled when she saw Samuel walk in. “Mr. Campbell, hello.”
Samuel smiled back. “Hello, Daphne. Sorry about the sudden exit last night.”
“Are you doing better now?”
Coldly polite. She had really been offended when he bolted.
“Somewhat. I’m still pretty confused, although I did just have a long talk with your father-in-law. Sounds like I’ve got a lot of catching up to do on more than just hunting.”
“Oh?”
“He mentioned something about an intranets?”
She frowned deeply, then realization hit and she burst out laughing. “Internet, Mr. Campbell.”
“See? I’ve got a lot to learn. And since my truck’s in the shop, I was wondering if you could spare some time to help me.”
“Certainly. Phoebe, could you man the desk for me?” The tall woman who looked like she could have walked out of a story about Amazons walked over and Daphne came around the desk, stepping down the two steps.
She was a petite little thing, Oriental and looking very fragile.
He followed her over to a desk with a row of something that looked like small televisions with typewriter keyboards in front of them. “What are those?”
“Computers.” She looked at him and asked a question - in all seriousness - that showed just how messed up their lives were. “What year did you pass?”
“It was 1973. Back then, one computer would have taken up most of this room. Where do you put the punch cards?”
She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Punch cards?”
“Yeah, you know...” He held up his hands, indicating something about the size of a Scantron. “Card with holes in it, ‘Do not fold, spindle, or mutilate.’”
“Haven’t been used since the early ’80s.”
“Really? What about magnetic tapes?”
“Early ’90s.”
“Huh. So how does this thing work?”
“Turn it on - press that button there - and we’ll show you.”
Looking nervous, he pressed the button and sat down. She showed him how to get online and how to search. Time and again he shook his head in amazement at how much technology had changed in the last 35 years. And when she’d given him enough to go on, he became engrossed in reading up on history and entertainment news. She left him to it.
Time sped by as he searched and read, and before he knew it, it was noon and his stomach was reminding him that he’d missed breakfast.
Daphne looked up and smiled as he approached.
“Thanks so much for your help, Daphne,” he said. “You free for lunch? I need to go pick up my truck, but I’d like to make up for running out on you kids last night.”
“Go ask Dean.”
“How do I get to the high school?”
“Follow Cole Road.”
“Cole Road. Got it. Thanks, Daphne.”
She nodded and went back to work.
Samuel quickly walked back to the garage to pick up the truck, then drove out to the high school.
The secretary looked up and smiled. “May I help you, sir?”
“Yes, I need to speak with Dean Winchester, please.”
“What in God’s Name do you want with him?”
But it was asked strangely kindly.
“Just wanted to see whether he’d be willing to let me take him out to lunch. Sam, too, if he’s free-I’m their grandfather.”
“And you’re not a demon.” She picked up the intercom phone, and that was the instant it hit Samuel what she’d done with that weird sentence.
It wasn’t quite the shock that it might have been the day before, but it still unsettled him a little.
She hung up the phone. “He is waiting. Room 115, down the hall and to the left.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
She nodded and watched him leave the office.
Samuel made his way through the halls to Dean’s classroom. He saw him signing to two girls and three boys, who all were copying him. A bell rang and Dean nodded, signing at them. They nodded, pumped their right fists up and down at him, gathered their books and left.
He glanced down as he walked into the classroom. “Salt? Even here?”
“All the doors of the school are salted. And the windows.” He smiled. “How are you, Grandpa?”
“Better, I think. Still have a lot to get used to, but Daphne helped me figure out how to use one of these new computers.”
“Good.”
“You kids free for lunch? I’d like to make up for running out on you last night.”
“I am. I’ll get Daphne and you go ask Sam. He’s upstairs, room 215. Right overhead.” He took a broom handle and poked twice on the ceiling. Instantly there was a double stamp, and Dean laughed.
Samuel chuckled. “Okay. Where should we meet you?”
“Burger Barn.”
“Sounds good. See you there.”
Samuel arrived upstairs to find Sam cleaning up after class. His room was covered in maps and there was a TV set up in one corner.
“Hey, Sam. What subject do you teach?”
“History.”
“I see. Been teaching long?”
“About three years.”
Samuel nodded. “Enjoying it?”
“It’s fun!”
“Good! Listen, you and Tricia free for lunch? I’m headed over to Burger Barn to meet Dean and Daphne.”
“Sure, just lemme call her.” And he pulled a - square compact? out of his pocket.
No, it wasn’t a compact; it had buttons on the front that he pushed before holding it up to his ear and speaking Spanish into it rapidly.
“Where are we meeting you?” he asked Samuel in English.
“Burger Barn,” Samuel replied, and Sam repeated it into his thingummy.
He closed it and smiled. “She’ll meet us there.”
“What is that thing?”
“What thing?”
“That thing you were talking into just now.”
“That’s my phone.”
Samuel stared. “Seriously?!”
“Seriously.”
He shook his head. “I’d seen car phones on TV, but something that tiny, with no wires... amazing.”
Sam smiled.
“Now, how do I get to Burger Barn from here?”
“You follow me.” Sam led the way out of the classroom.
Samuel followed him to a big red barn with a parking lot outside. Sam parked his motorcycle next to Dean’s Impala-probably the same one John had bought just before Samuel had died. Tricia came up a few moments later. When she got out of her car, Sam kissed her and they walked into the restaurant.
They had a good meal and a pleasant visit, consisting mostly of the kids bringing Samuel more up to speed about how the world had changed since ’73. Samuel couldn’t help feeling a little like Rip Van Winkle, given how many of the public figures he’d known had died and how far technology had advanced. Phones that lived in your pockets. Computers that you could carry around if they weren’t in the phones. A worldwide network of information. TV that ran 24 hours. Channels devoted only to movies or only to news. Discs that were smaller than a 45 record but held more music than a standard LP-or a whole movie with extra short films. An entire era of manned space flight that was drawing to a close even as Samuel was trying to wrap his head around the concept of a reusable orbiter.
They smiled at him, waiting for his reactions.
“Is this what they call information overload?” he finally asked.
Probably, Dean signed, laughing.
Samuel shook his head and chuckled. “You’ll have to speak English, son.”
“I said probably.” That was probably one of the biggest shocks - that his oldest grandson seemed to prefer to sign.
“I’m not sure how to process all this! I believe it, don’t get me wrong, it’s just... so much has changed.”
They all nodded.
“What do you recommend? Nap? Long walk in the park?”
“Not listening to Uriel is a good start.”
“Dean....”
He just looked at Samuel.
“I get it, okay? No one here trusts Uriel, not even the archangel. That does mean something to me. But I need to make sense of the evidence before I make up my own mind.”
“Okay.”
“Guess I’ll try sleeping on it. Didn’t work too well last night, but I didn’t get any coffee this morning, so maybe I can sleep now.”
“We have an extra bed,” Sam told him.
Samuel blinked. “Are... are you inviting me to stay with you?”
Sam shrugged. “You’re family.”
Samuel just stared at him for a moment, trying to reconcile that simple, honest generosity with what Uriel had said-that the boy had been tainted with demon blood and was capable of anything. “Thank you,” he finally said quietly. “That... yes. Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll drive you there.” He stood up and kissed Tricia. “See you at home, love.”
Samuel was too stunned to do more than bid the other kids farewell and follow Sam out of the restaurant.
Sam slung his long leg over a Harley. “Come on. Behind me.”
“Man,” Samuel breathed, sliding onto the second seat. “Haven’t ridden one of these things since before the war.”
They rode smoother, less noisily. Sam guided it like a master.
They pulled up to a nice, normal-looking two-story house next to another normal-looking two-story house. But the plants and decorative fencing were anything but average, and Samuel could feel powerful wards around the house as they walked inside. There was an iron plate under the door, too.
Sam walked right through the masonry devil’s traps and over the salt lines. So did Samuel, musing that whether his namesake was less than human or not, he certainly wasn’t anything that could be repelled by these sorts of wards.
The bedroom was plain but serviceable. And there was a crucifix on the wall, which puzzled Samuel until Sam explained that Tricia’s parents were Catholic and that Tricia had wanted it there in case her mother ever deigned to come visit.
“I’ll bring you fresh sheets and towels....” Sam moved to do that.
“I don’t want to make you late for your next class, Sam.”
“It’s fine. Mr. Cooper’s covering for me.”
“... Cooper? Loki teaches high school history?!”
“M-hm. Has since before we got here.”
“Oh, brave new world, that has such creatures in’t,” Samuel murmured.
“More like ‘Lord, what fools these mortals be,’” Sam teased.
Samuel snorted. Laughing, Sam went to make something to eat.
“Really, Sam, you don’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“You’re family!”
Samuel marveled a little at that, wondered when the last time was that he’d met a relative for the first time-under bizarre circumstances, no less, though this situation had to take the cake-and been welcomed so warmly in spite of everything. Uriel had said the boy was tainted - evil. But no taint hung about this house. Were it not for the obvious signs that it was a hunter’s household, Samuel would have thought he was in the house of some average... Christian family. There were even prints with Scripture verses on or under them on the walls, including some nice but kitschy paintings of cottages at twilight with all the lights on inside.
“Like those?” Sam said as he came back into the room.
“Eh, I’m a Remington man myself.”
Sam laughed. “Here y’go.”
Samuel accepted the snack and set it down on the nightstand. “Sam... why are you doing this? And don’t say it’s because I’m family-let’s face it, we’ve known each other for less than a day.”
He goggled at his grandfather for a long moment. “Now I’m glad Dean and I got as out as we did - and aren’t immersed in the Life, if this is what it does. If it makes you distrustful of the most basic human kindnesses.”
“Basic human kindnesses? You have no idea who I am or what Uriel might have said to me.”
“You’re a human being who needs food and sleep.” He smiled. “Besides, you’re not fast enough or strong enough to really hurt me.”
Samuel’s eyebrows lifted a little-that statement had been so matter-of-fact, without any hint of malice. “I’m not that old, son.”
“Doesn’t matter, Grandpa.”
There again-‘Grandpa’ because it was his title, not a put-down. “Does this have anything to do with why Azazel was interested in you?”
“Yup. Don’t worry, I’m not possessed. And I can’t be possessed any longer. Neither can Dean or our wives.”
“You wear those necklaces Robichaux makes?”
“Better.” He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and pulled it aside, baring his left pectoral muscle to show a tattoo of the anti-possession sigil. Black with iron.
“You’ve all got one of those?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wish I’d thought of that,” he murmured before he could stop himself.
“Not too late,” Sam said as he buttoned up his shirt.
“Too late to spare you from all this. Maybe not too late to keep it from happening again.”
“Exactly.”
Samuel frowned. “What do you mean, ‘exactly’?”
“Not too late to stop it from happening again.”
“You think it could?”
“I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “I think that’s what Uriel is hoping.”
“To find a way to trigger the Apocalypse now.”
Sam nodded.
“I still don’t understand why he would do that. I’m not saying I don’t believe you; it just doesn’t make sense.”
“Grandpa, he’s the only one telling you this. And everyone else is telling you something else.”
“I hear you. I do. He’s still an angel.”
“And two angels agree with us.”
Samuel sighed. “Why is Michael here, anyway?”
“To stop the Apocalypse from getting off the ground.”
“And Castiel?”
“He’s our friend.”
Samuel looked at him for a moment. “Most hunters don’t even think angels exist, but you call this one friend. And you’ve got Loki covering your classes for you.”
“He’s another friend.” Sam smiled. “Has been since we moved here when I was 12.”
“How? How is this your life? Hell, how is this anyone’s life?”
He laughed and sat down on the bed. “This is my life, Grandpa.” He spread his hands. “I am a history teacher and part-time hunter.”
“And you act like all of this is... normal.”
“For us? It is.”
“I’m not just talking about the part-time hunting, Sam. We’ve got all kinds in our family; that part makes sense to me. It’s the bigger picture that I’m having trouble with.”
“What parts of it?”
“All of it! Angels, demons, Tricksters, demon blood, the Apocalypse....”
“Slow down! One thing at a time!”
Samuel bit his lip. It sounded like Sam genuinely wanted to explain, so this was as good a time to ask as any. “Tell me about the demon blood.”
Sam gestured for his grandfather to sit down beside him. Samuel did so.
“Okay. From the beginning. When you were killed, Mom made a deal. In return for Dad’s life, she would allow Azazel to enter our home once, ten years down the road.”
“I knew that.”
“When he entered our home, I was six months old. He dripped his own blood into my mouth and when I swallowed it, my marrow began to reproduce it. Mom tried to stop him - and he killed her.”
“So now your body produces demon blood.”
“Not anymore. When we got the tattoos, we had a bit of consecrated wine added. There was a... rather violent... reaction to the demon blood. I made it through. The demon blood didn’t.”
“Huh. Have you noticed a difference?”
“Oh, yes.” He grinned. “There’ve been a few - side-effects. But I’m human.”
“Side-effects? Like what?”
“I’m psychic now.”
“Really? Like mind-reading, fortune-telling psychic?”
“No. Like visions. Unpredictable.” He hesitated, and in that hesitation Samuel realized there was more.
“Sam?”
“Remember when I said you weren’t fast enough or strong enough to hurt me?”
“Is that a result of the demon blood, too? Speed and strength?”
Sam nodded, and his smile looked a little sheepish.
“Huh. So you really did just mean it as a statement of fact.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is that all?”
“For the demon blood, yes.”
“So why did Azazel do that to you?”
“He was trying to build an army of psychic children, as close as we can tell.”
“So there are more kids like you out there? How many?”
“We don’t know. Castiel does and he says they’re all doing well. There was one that was being horribly abused, but he has gotten away and is being helped now. Most of their powers are dormant and - now that Azazel is dead - the angels think they’ll stay that way.”
“That’s a relief. So tell me about Azazel-I hear Dean shot him.”
“Yes, sir. At our wedding.”
Samuel blinked. “Our wedding? I thought it was his wedding.”
“It was. We had a double ceremony at 2 PM on June 21.”
Samuel’s eyes widened. “That’s serious stuff there, Sam.”
Sam smiled widely. “Yes, sir.”
“Is that why Azazel showed up?”
“We don’t know why.”
“But you were prepared for him.”
“Yes, sir. He was... threatening me.”
“Threatening you? How?”
“Forcing visions on me about my family burning.”
Samuel paled. “Burning-is that what he did to Mary?”
“Yes, sir.” His voice was grim. “Sliced her belly open. Telekinetically pinned her to the ceiling. And made her spontaneously combust.”
Samuel shuddered. “Oh, Mary....”
“Directly over my crib.”
Samuel couldn’t help it. He started to cry. Sam’s arms encircled him and he felt the power there.
“I s-s-should have saved her... should have been more c-careful....”
“Now you sound like Dad.”
“I got possessed, Sam! Like some greenhorn hunter who doesn’t know a demon from a dust devil! It’s my fault!”
Sam’s arms tightened in comfort. Samuel wept in anguish for several minutes. And Sam just held him.
Finally, when the tears subsided, Samuel stammered out, “Uriel s-said... he’d bring her back for me.”
“He can’t do that.”
Samuel pulled back and frowned. “What do you mean, he can’t? He brought me back.”
“He can’t because she’s not there anymore.”
“I don’t follow you.”
He licked his lips. “I’ve seen that she’s not in Lawrence anymore. She came here to say goodbye. Michael mentioned that she is coming back anyway.”
“Sam, that doesn’t make sense. Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. But I trust Michael.”
Samuel sighed, suddenly drained. “I’m sorry, Sam. I... I think I need to sleep on all this.”
Sam pushed him over onto the bed and tucked him in.
“Sam... thank you.”
“Rest.”
Samuel nodded and let sleep take him. Sam kept watch.
Samuel fell deeply asleep within seconds, almost as if he was being dragged under. But his dream wasn’t unpleasant; he found himself back at the house in Lawrence, lounging on the front porch as he waited for Deanna and Mary to finish making lemonade or tea or whatever they were working on.
“Samuel.”
Samuel jumped as Uriel appeared in front of him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You are moving slowly.”
“I’ve been here a day.”
“You are moving too slowly. We need to get moving so we can get started on-”
“Uriel.”
Samuel looked around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Castiel was standing next to the front door, and there was some kind of sigil drawn on the wall in what looked like blood.
Uriel snarled. “The little bird thinks he has teeth.”
“No. I know I do.” And his hand raised. “Go away.” And he slammed it into the sigil.
There was a blinding flash and a scream, and Uriel was gone.
Castiel smiled and turned to Samuel.
“What the hell...” Samuel breathed.
“Banishing sigil. Very effective.”
“Why are you in my dream? ... I am dreaming, right?”
“Yes, you are dreaming.”
“So why are you here?”
“I am watching out for you. As I was asked to.”
“Asked?”
“Yes. Sam asked me to make sure Uriel wouldn’t hurt you.”
Samuel had no idea how to respond to that.
Castiel’s smile grew. “Your grandsons love you, Samuel.”
“Why? They just met me!”
“But you are their grandfather. Blood matters. Friends become family with them, and family becomes friends.”
Samuel shook his head. “Castiel... I’m so confused.”
“About what?”
“Everything. Part of it is how much I’ve missed while I’ve been dead, but... everyone in Cazadore is so kind. Especially Sam. And Uriel... I mean, I never believed in angels, but if they did exist, I didn’t think they could lie.”
“We can.”
“So now I’m having trouble understanding what’s real. What’s true and what’s not.”
Castiel nodded. “Your grandsons are real and true.”
“How can I be sure? How can I be sure of anything?”
“Faith.”
“I’m not sure I have any.”
“You have faith. It is as a mustard seed - but that’s all that’s needed.”
Samuel blinked. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you just need a tiny bit.”
“Why? What good’s a tiny bit?”
“Do you know anything of cooking?”
“A little. But I usually use mustard out of a bottle.”
“Do you know of yeast?”
“Know what it is, yeah.”
“Do you know how much yeast is needed to bake several loaves of bread?”
“No.”
Castiel held up his right hand. The thumb and index finger were only a tiny space apart.
“So you’re saying faith works like yeast?”
“Exactly.” He looked up. “And you’re waking up.”
“Wait, Castiel-”
He turned to look back.
“How will I know my faith is working right?”
The smile grew again. “When you realize the truth and when you are attacked for it.”
And Samuel woke with a gasp.
Sam arrived a few seconds later. “Grandpa? Are you okay?”
Samuel sat up, heart pounding. “I... I guess... I’m not sure.”
Sam raced into the bathroom and came out with a glass of water.
Samuel drank gratefully. He was suddenly aware he was leaning back against his grandson’s arm.
“Thanks, Sam.”
“Anytime, Grandpa.”
“Man... what a wild dream.”
“Did Castiel reach you?”
Samuel looked at him. “Yeah, he did.”
“Good. We had a feeling Uriel might try to contact you in your dreams. Azazel would do that to me.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
Samuel sighed. “I am so unused to this.”
“It’s okay.”
Castiel walked in then. “How is he?”
Samuel looked up at him. “I’m okay, thanks. How long did I sleep?”
“About two hours.”
“Felt like five minutes.”
“Do you think Uriel’s coming?” Sam asked, worried.
“Yes. But not tonight.”
“Kept telling me I was moving too slowly,” Samuel reported. “Dunno what he expects-I’m only human.”
“He sees humans as mud monkeys,” Castiel said. “His exact words.”
“Mud monkeys?” grandfather and grandson chorused incredulously.
“Yes... I do not agree.”
“Thanks for that,” Samuel murmured.
“You are the most brilliant, creative thing that my Father ever created.”
Sam ducked his head and smiled a little, clearly embarrassed.
“Humans are marvelous things.”
“Better stop him before he starts in on Hamlet,” Samuel teased Sam.
“He knew Shakespeare,” Sam grinned.
Samuel laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”
Castiel shrugged, a very human gesture. “We need to tell Dean.”
Sam sobered. “Yeah. We do.”
“I will gather them.”
“Thanks.”
There was a sound like the flapping of a bird’s wings, and he was gone.
Samuel sighed. “Could I get some coffee, Sam?”
Sam nodded and went to make some. He came back with Michael and Dean in tow. Dean looked distinctly unhappy.
Michael sat down beside Samuel. “I hear my brother has been coming to you in your dreams.”
Samuel nodded. “Wants me to move faster.”
“What?” Michael yelped.
“I take it that’s bad?”
“He is harassing you.”
“Does he ever smile?”
Michael smiled in reply.
“Only at train wrecks and earthquakes,” Cooper added, appearing in the doorway.
Samuel chuckled a little. “There is a difference. I’ll give you all that. I’m still trying to make sense of it all, but... there’s definitely a difference. Uriel just seems... harsh.”
“And the others?” Sam asked.
“Seems like they actually care.”
They do, Dean nodded and signed.
Samuel looked at Sam, who translated.
“Sorry,” Dean chuckled, even as his hands said it.
Samuel gave him a wry smile. “So what do we do now? I’m a little afraid to go back to sleep if he’s gonna keep dreamwalking on me.”
Castiel put a hand on his shoulder. “Rest. I shall be keeping watch.”
Samuel looked at him for a moment, then smiled. “Thanks, Castiel.”
He nodded. “Would you like me to tuck you in? I have observed that seems to help humans sleep better.”
Everyone but Michael burst out laughing. Michael simply smiled in amusement.
Castiel frowned and eased closer to Dean. What did I say that was funny? he signed close to his chest, “whispering.”
Dean just shook his head in amusement and patted the angel’s shoulder. “Oh, Cas. Never change.”
His look of confusion just made Dean’s smile grow.
“Actually,” Samuel said, “I think I need something to eat before I try to sleep again.”
Even he recognized the “follow me” sign Dean used.
Soon they were all in Sam’s kitchen, with Dean raiding the fridge and making sandwiches as though he were the one who lived in the house.
“You two must be close,” Samuel observed.
“We’re brothers,” Dean said as if that explained it all.
“My brothers never knew my kitchen this well, even before I married your grandmother.”
“You and your brothers didn’t live your entire lives together,” Sam said as he came into the room. “You and your brothers weren’t all you had since your older brother was four and you were six months old.” There was no rancor. It was just a matter of fact.
Samuel frowned. “Didn’t you have John?”
Both brothers snorted, and Dean set the plate in front of Samuel. As he sat down, he said, “He gave me Sammy the night of the fire. He never really took him back.”
“He was a hunter after he got over the shock of that night,” Sam said - again, just a matter of fact. “Not a father. When we left him, Dean raised me alone.”
“And that was when we both realized how much easier it was to do without him in our way,” Dean finished.
Samuel just stared. They just stared right back.
Finally, Samuel shook his head. “Campbell tough and Winchester stubborn. No wonder Uriel hates you.”
The brothers laughed together.
Next
Chapter 3
Angels and Ministers of Grace
While Samuel puzzled and fretted over what to believe and what to do about it, Castiel hid himself and followed and puzzled over how to nudge Samuel in the right direction. The old truck backfired, though, and Castiel had an idea. As soon as Samuel had parked at the hotel and gone inside, Castiel hovered over the vehicle, hesitating only long enough to dredge up memories of watching Dean at work before gently touching just the right spot to ensure that the truck wouldn’t start again in the morning.
He kept watch over Samuel all night, ready to intercept any attempt to contact either Uriel or Crowley. The man did neither, nor did he sleep well enough for Uriel to reach his dreams. Then, when Samuel left the room to go to breakfast, Castiel quickly appeared long enough to circle the number for Mercer’s Garage in the telephone book. Sure enough, moments later, Samuel stormed back into the room, muttering curses, and called Mercer’s to have his truck towed in for repair.
Unseen and unheard, Castiel let out a small sigh of relief. If an unexpected confrontation with the one man in town Samuel knew well didn’t help, Castiel didn’t know what would.
The truck was towed into John’s berth and locked into place. John walked over to it and eyed it critically, taking in the make, model, year... and Kansas license plates. John came around the truck, looking at the repair order. “Okay, so can you tell me when you noticed trouble with-” He looked up and one of the rarest of sounds rang out. John Winchester gasped audibly.
His father-in-law replied with a highly unprintable curse. Loudly.
Which led Leo to remind them - just as loudly - that this was a family business and to keep their tongues civil, please!
“What the hell are you doing here, John?!” Samuel hissed.
“I work here, Samuel. What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead!”
“Well, I was until something yanked me out of the afterlife and told me to come investigate this town.”
“Hm.” John tapped a fingernail against his front tooth, thinking.
“What?”
“Could be angels, could be one of the stronger demons..... Not too much can pull off a resurrection like this.”
“Whatever spoke to me called himself Uriel.”
John’s face shuttered, and his eyes blazed. “Oh. HIM.”
Samuel looked at him closely. “John... tell me what you know. I’ve got two different stories, and I’m having a hell of a time figuring out what to believe.”
John pulled him around the back of the truck and sat him on the bumper.
Adjusted for perspective - he told Samuel nearly the exact same story his sons had.
Not practiced, because that would have been exactly the same.
Samuel sighed and shook his head. “So what do I do? He promised he’d bring Mary back if I did what he wanted.”
“If you do what he wants, the end of the world goes back on track.”
“We’re talking about Mary, John. I would have thought you’d want her back, too.”
“I want her back more than I can say. But I know we’ll be together again someday. And I won’t put my wants ahead of the world.”
“How do you know?” Samuel asked quietly. “You were an atheist, last I checked.”
“I know - because an angel told me.”
Samuel shifted. “Would that be Michael or Castiel? Met them last night, and that Trickster ‘brother’ of theirs, but I didn’t know what to make of ’em.”
“Make this of them - they care for the kids very, very much. And will do anything in their power to protect them.”
“Why? Why are they so special? They seem like good men, but....”
“They are good men. Very good men.”
“So why do they merit two angels and a Trickster?”
John smiled. “Looks like you’ve hit one of the questions that I can’t wrap my head around myself.”
Samuel sighed and scratched his ear. “It doesn’t make sense. Any of it. And why the hell didn’t anyone tell me you were here?”
“I’m slowly learning that not everything makes sense. Or even has to. And maybe because you hate me?”
Samuel snorted. “All the kids said was that they’d retied their ties to you. I got the impression you were still hunting.”
“I was,” John said. “But then Azazel was killed and it... it was over. I’m serving a house arrest sentence.”
Samuel blinked. “House arrest?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
John sat on the bumper and laughed softly. “Grave desecration in 48 states.”
“Yeah, but why do time for it, even if you are under the loosest definition of house arrest I’ve ever seen?”
“It’s not loose. I’m heavily monitored. I’m allowed to be at home or at work only.”
“Details. What’s the point?”
“To stay with my sons and their wives.”
“Why? Why would you retire if things are still gunning for your sons?”
John looked over at Leo and the customers then he lowered his voice. “I’m not really retired, Samuel. I’ve just shifted bases.”
Samuel frowned. “But if the only reason you can leave the house is to come here....”
John grinned. “The boys need a research man.”
Samuel’s eyebrows shot up. “You do research from home? Must have one impressive library there.”
“It’s called the Internet. And yes, I do.”
“What the hell’s an internet?”
“Oh, boy, do I have things to tell you.” He stood up. “First of all, tell me what’s up with this truck.”
“Got in it this morning and it wouldn’t start.” Samuel followed him to the front of the truck, describing the problem as John popped the hood and began his examination.
“Here’s the problem.” John pointed to the battery. “You need a charge.”
“Can you do that here? Or should I just get a new battery?”
“We can do that here but it’ll take a few hours.”
“All right. Guess I should-” Samuel broke off, staring up at the ceiling. He’d started to look up as he thought about what to do while he was waiting, and in so doing, he’d caught sight of the devil’s trap.
“Guess you should what? Of course, if you can’t wait, you could buy a battery.”
“Am I seeing things?”
John followed his gaze and smiled. “Nope.”
“Huh. Did you put that there?”
“No. Dean did.”
“Dean works here?”
“He worked here. I took over his berth.”
“Where does he work now? Or does he hunt full-time?”
“He’s a teacher at the high school.” John beamed. “Both of them are.”
“You’re kidding.”
John shook his head. “I’m not. Sam’s wife is the day manager at the Starlight and Dean’s is a librarian.”
“But they still hunt.”
“Oh, yes.”
Samuel sighed. “How far is it to the library? Maybe Daphne would show me how to use this intranets thing.”
“Four streets over. Down the other end of the street from here. Huge brick building with blue trim.” He chuckled. “Don’t ask.”
“Don’t ask what?”
“What the weird color combination means. I don’t have any clue.”
“Oh. Right.” Samuel paused. “Listen, John... thanks for shooting straight with me.”
“Sure thing, Samuel.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Look - we don’t get along. We never really did. But can’t we agree that we both loved Mary and we both love her boys?”
“I’ll get back to you on her boys, considering that I’ve met them all of once. But yeah, we did love Mary.”
John nodded and gave him back his keys.
“How soon do you think the battery will be charged?”
“Another 2 hours or so.”
“All right. I’ll be at the library until then.”
“Okay. Take care, Samuel.”
Samuel nodded and left.
Daphne looked up and smiled when she saw Samuel walk in. “Mr. Campbell, hello.”
Samuel smiled back. “Hello, Daphne. Sorry about the sudden exit last night.”
“Are you doing better now?”
Coldly polite. She had really been offended when he bolted.
“Somewhat. I’m still pretty confused, although I did just have a long talk with your father-in-law. Sounds like I’ve got a lot of catching up to do on more than just hunting.”
“Oh?”
“He mentioned something about an intranets?”
She frowned deeply, then realization hit and she burst out laughing. “Internet, Mr. Campbell.”
“See? I’ve got a lot to learn. And since my truck’s in the shop, I was wondering if you could spare some time to help me.”
“Certainly. Phoebe, could you man the desk for me?” The tall woman who looked like she could have walked out of a story about Amazons walked over and Daphne came around the desk, stepping down the two steps.
She was a petite little thing, Oriental and looking very fragile.
He followed her over to a desk with a row of something that looked like small televisions with typewriter keyboards in front of them. “What are those?”
“Computers.” She looked at him and asked a question - in all seriousness - that showed just how messed up their lives were. “What year did you pass?”
“It was 1973. Back then, one computer would have taken up most of this room. Where do you put the punch cards?”
She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Punch cards?”
“Yeah, you know...” He held up his hands, indicating something about the size of a Scantron. “Card with holes in it, ‘Do not fold, spindle, or mutilate.’”
“Haven’t been used since the early ’80s.”
“Really? What about magnetic tapes?”
“Early ’90s.”
“Huh. So how does this thing work?”
“Turn it on - press that button there - and we’ll show you.”
Looking nervous, he pressed the button and sat down. She showed him how to get online and how to search. Time and again he shook his head in amazement at how much technology had changed in the last 35 years. And when she’d given him enough to go on, he became engrossed in reading up on history and entertainment news. She left him to it.
Time sped by as he searched and read, and before he knew it, it was noon and his stomach was reminding him that he’d missed breakfast.
Daphne looked up and smiled as he approached.
“Thanks so much for your help, Daphne,” he said. “You free for lunch? I need to go pick up my truck, but I’d like to make up for running out on you kids last night.”
“Go ask Dean.”
“How do I get to the high school?”
“Follow Cole Road.”
“Cole Road. Got it. Thanks, Daphne.”
She nodded and went back to work.
Samuel quickly walked back to the garage to pick up the truck, then drove out to the high school.
The secretary looked up and smiled. “May I help you, sir?”
“Yes, I need to speak with Dean Winchester, please.”
“What in God’s Name do you want with him?”
But it was asked strangely kindly.
“Just wanted to see whether he’d be willing to let me take him out to lunch. Sam, too, if he’s free-I’m their grandfather.”
“And you’re not a demon.” She picked up the intercom phone, and that was the instant it hit Samuel what she’d done with that weird sentence.
It wasn’t quite the shock that it might have been the day before, but it still unsettled him a little.
She hung up the phone. “He is waiting. Room 115, down the hall and to the left.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
She nodded and watched him leave the office.
Samuel made his way through the halls to Dean’s classroom. He saw him signing to two girls and three boys, who all were copying him. A bell rang and Dean nodded, signing at them. They nodded, pumped their right fists up and down at him, gathered their books and left.
He glanced down as he walked into the classroom. “Salt? Even here?”
“All the doors of the school are salted. And the windows.” He smiled. “How are you, Grandpa?”
“Better, I think. Still have a lot to get used to, but Daphne helped me figure out how to use one of these new computers.”
“Good.”
“You kids free for lunch? I’d like to make up for running out on you last night.”
“I am. I’ll get Daphne and you go ask Sam. He’s upstairs, room 215. Right overhead.” He took a broom handle and poked twice on the ceiling. Instantly there was a double stamp, and Dean laughed.
Samuel chuckled. “Okay. Where should we meet you?”
“Burger Barn.”
“Sounds good. See you there.”
Samuel arrived upstairs to find Sam cleaning up after class. His room was covered in maps and there was a TV set up in one corner.
“Hey, Sam. What subject do you teach?”
“History.”
“I see. Been teaching long?”
“About three years.”
Samuel nodded. “Enjoying it?”
“It’s fun!”
“Good! Listen, you and Tricia free for lunch? I’m headed over to Burger Barn to meet Dean and Daphne.”
“Sure, just lemme call her.” And he pulled a - square compact? out of his pocket.
No, it wasn’t a compact; it had buttons on the front that he pushed before holding it up to his ear and speaking Spanish into it rapidly.
“Where are we meeting you?” he asked Samuel in English.
“Burger Barn,” Samuel replied, and Sam repeated it into his thingummy.
He closed it and smiled. “She’ll meet us there.”
“What is that thing?”
“What thing?”
“That thing you were talking into just now.”
“That’s my phone.”
Samuel stared. “Seriously?!”
“Seriously.”
He shook his head. “I’d seen car phones on TV, but something that tiny, with no wires... amazing.”
Sam smiled.
“Now, how do I get to Burger Barn from here?”
“You follow me.” Sam led the way out of the classroom.
Samuel followed him to a big red barn with a parking lot outside. Sam parked his motorcycle next to Dean’s Impala-probably the same one John had bought just before Samuel had died. Tricia came up a few moments later. When she got out of her car, Sam kissed her and they walked into the restaurant.
They had a good meal and a pleasant visit, consisting mostly of the kids bringing Samuel more up to speed about how the world had changed since ’73. Samuel couldn’t help feeling a little like Rip Van Winkle, given how many of the public figures he’d known had died and how far technology had advanced. Phones that lived in your pockets. Computers that you could carry around if they weren’t in the phones. A worldwide network of information. TV that ran 24 hours. Channels devoted only to movies or only to news. Discs that were smaller than a 45 record but held more music than a standard LP-or a whole movie with extra short films. An entire era of manned space flight that was drawing to a close even as Samuel was trying to wrap his head around the concept of a reusable orbiter.
They smiled at him, waiting for his reactions.
“Is this what they call information overload?” he finally asked.
Probably, Dean signed, laughing.
Samuel shook his head and chuckled. “You’ll have to speak English, son.”
“I said probably.” That was probably one of the biggest shocks - that his oldest grandson seemed to prefer to sign.
“I’m not sure how to process all this! I believe it, don’t get me wrong, it’s just... so much has changed.”
They all nodded.
“What do you recommend? Nap? Long walk in the park?”
“Not listening to Uriel is a good start.”
“Dean....”
He just looked at Samuel.
“I get it, okay? No one here trusts Uriel, not even the archangel. That does mean something to me. But I need to make sense of the evidence before I make up my own mind.”
“Okay.”
“Guess I’ll try sleeping on it. Didn’t work too well last night, but I didn’t get any coffee this morning, so maybe I can sleep now.”
“We have an extra bed,” Sam told him.
Samuel blinked. “Are... are you inviting me to stay with you?”
Sam shrugged. “You’re family.”
Samuel just stared at him for a moment, trying to reconcile that simple, honest generosity with what Uriel had said-that the boy had been tainted with demon blood and was capable of anything. “Thank you,” he finally said quietly. “That... yes. Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll drive you there.” He stood up and kissed Tricia. “See you at home, love.”
Samuel was too stunned to do more than bid the other kids farewell and follow Sam out of the restaurant.
Sam slung his long leg over a Harley. “Come on. Behind me.”
“Man,” Samuel breathed, sliding onto the second seat. “Haven’t ridden one of these things since before the war.”
They rode smoother, less noisily. Sam guided it like a master.
They pulled up to a nice, normal-looking two-story house next to another normal-looking two-story house. But the plants and decorative fencing were anything but average, and Samuel could feel powerful wards around the house as they walked inside. There was an iron plate under the door, too.
Sam walked right through the masonry devil’s traps and over the salt lines. So did Samuel, musing that whether his namesake was less than human or not, he certainly wasn’t anything that could be repelled by these sorts of wards.
The bedroom was plain but serviceable. And there was a crucifix on the wall, which puzzled Samuel until Sam explained that Tricia’s parents were Catholic and that Tricia had wanted it there in case her mother ever deigned to come visit.
“I’ll bring you fresh sheets and towels....” Sam moved to do that.
“I don’t want to make you late for your next class, Sam.”
“It’s fine. Mr. Cooper’s covering for me.”
“... Cooper? Loki teaches high school history?!”
“M-hm. Has since before we got here.”
“Oh, brave new world, that has such creatures in’t,” Samuel murmured.
“More like ‘Lord, what fools these mortals be,’” Sam teased.
Samuel snorted. Laughing, Sam went to make something to eat.
“Really, Sam, you don’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“You’re family!”
Samuel marveled a little at that, wondered when the last time was that he’d met a relative for the first time-under bizarre circumstances, no less, though this situation had to take the cake-and been welcomed so warmly in spite of everything. Uriel had said the boy was tainted - evil. But no taint hung about this house. Were it not for the obvious signs that it was a hunter’s household, Samuel would have thought he was in the house of some average... Christian family. There were even prints with Scripture verses on or under them on the walls, including some nice but kitschy paintings of cottages at twilight with all the lights on inside.
“Like those?” Sam said as he came back into the room.
“Eh, I’m a Remington man myself.”
Sam laughed. “Here y’go.”
Samuel accepted the snack and set it down on the nightstand. “Sam... why are you doing this? And don’t say it’s because I’m family-let’s face it, we’ve known each other for less than a day.”
He goggled at his grandfather for a long moment. “Now I’m glad Dean and I got as out as we did - and aren’t immersed in the Life, if this is what it does. If it makes you distrustful of the most basic human kindnesses.”
“Basic human kindnesses? You have no idea who I am or what Uriel might have said to me.”
“You’re a human being who needs food and sleep.” He smiled. “Besides, you’re not fast enough or strong enough to really hurt me.”
Samuel’s eyebrows lifted a little-that statement had been so matter-of-fact, without any hint of malice. “I’m not that old, son.”
“Doesn’t matter, Grandpa.”
There again-‘Grandpa’ because it was his title, not a put-down. “Does this have anything to do with why Azazel was interested in you?”
“Yup. Don’t worry, I’m not possessed. And I can’t be possessed any longer. Neither can Dean or our wives.”
“You wear those necklaces Robichaux makes?”
“Better.” He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and pulled it aside, baring his left pectoral muscle to show a tattoo of the anti-possession sigil. Black with iron.
“You’ve all got one of those?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wish I’d thought of that,” he murmured before he could stop himself.
“Not too late,” Sam said as he buttoned up his shirt.
“Too late to spare you from all this. Maybe not too late to keep it from happening again.”
“Exactly.”
Samuel frowned. “What do you mean, ‘exactly’?”
“Not too late to stop it from happening again.”
“You think it could?”
“I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “I think that’s what Uriel is hoping.”
“To find a way to trigger the Apocalypse now.”
Sam nodded.
“I still don’t understand why he would do that. I’m not saying I don’t believe you; it just doesn’t make sense.”
“Grandpa, he’s the only one telling you this. And everyone else is telling you something else.”
“I hear you. I do. He’s still an angel.”
“And two angels agree with us.”
Samuel sighed. “Why is Michael here, anyway?”
“To stop the Apocalypse from getting off the ground.”
“And Castiel?”
“He’s our friend.”
Samuel looked at him for a moment. “Most hunters don’t even think angels exist, but you call this one friend. And you’ve got Loki covering your classes for you.”
“He’s another friend.” Sam smiled. “Has been since we moved here when I was 12.”
“How? How is this your life? Hell, how is this anyone’s life?”
He laughed and sat down on the bed. “This is my life, Grandpa.” He spread his hands. “I am a history teacher and part-time hunter.”
“And you act like all of this is... normal.”
“For us? It is.”
“I’m not just talking about the part-time hunting, Sam. We’ve got all kinds in our family; that part makes sense to me. It’s the bigger picture that I’m having trouble with.”
“What parts of it?”
“All of it! Angels, demons, Tricksters, demon blood, the Apocalypse....”
“Slow down! One thing at a time!”
Samuel bit his lip. It sounded like Sam genuinely wanted to explain, so this was as good a time to ask as any. “Tell me about the demon blood.”
Sam gestured for his grandfather to sit down beside him. Samuel did so.
“Okay. From the beginning. When you were killed, Mom made a deal. In return for Dad’s life, she would allow Azazel to enter our home once, ten years down the road.”
“I knew that.”
“When he entered our home, I was six months old. He dripped his own blood into my mouth and when I swallowed it, my marrow began to reproduce it. Mom tried to stop him - and he killed her.”
“So now your body produces demon blood.”
“Not anymore. When we got the tattoos, we had a bit of consecrated wine added. There was a... rather violent... reaction to the demon blood. I made it through. The demon blood didn’t.”
“Huh. Have you noticed a difference?”
“Oh, yes.” He grinned. “There’ve been a few - side-effects. But I’m human.”
“Side-effects? Like what?”
“I’m psychic now.”
“Really? Like mind-reading, fortune-telling psychic?”
“No. Like visions. Unpredictable.” He hesitated, and in that hesitation Samuel realized there was more.
“Sam?”
“Remember when I said you weren’t fast enough or strong enough to hurt me?”
“Is that a result of the demon blood, too? Speed and strength?”
Sam nodded, and his smile looked a little sheepish.
“Huh. So you really did just mean it as a statement of fact.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is that all?”
“For the demon blood, yes.”
“So why did Azazel do that to you?”
“He was trying to build an army of psychic children, as close as we can tell.”
“So there are more kids like you out there? How many?”
“We don’t know. Castiel does and he says they’re all doing well. There was one that was being horribly abused, but he has gotten away and is being helped now. Most of their powers are dormant and - now that Azazel is dead - the angels think they’ll stay that way.”
“That’s a relief. So tell me about Azazel-I hear Dean shot him.”
“Yes, sir. At our wedding.”
Samuel blinked. “Our wedding? I thought it was his wedding.”
“It was. We had a double ceremony at 2 PM on June 21.”
Samuel’s eyes widened. “That’s serious stuff there, Sam.”
Sam smiled widely. “Yes, sir.”
“Is that why Azazel showed up?”
“We don’t know why.”
“But you were prepared for him.”
“Yes, sir. He was... threatening me.”
“Threatening you? How?”
“Forcing visions on me about my family burning.”
Samuel paled. “Burning-is that what he did to Mary?”
“Yes, sir.” His voice was grim. “Sliced her belly open. Telekinetically pinned her to the ceiling. And made her spontaneously combust.”
Samuel shuddered. “Oh, Mary....”
“Directly over my crib.”
Samuel couldn’t help it. He started to cry. Sam’s arms encircled him and he felt the power there.
“I s-s-should have saved her... should have been more c-careful....”
“Now you sound like Dad.”
“I got possessed, Sam! Like some greenhorn hunter who doesn’t know a demon from a dust devil! It’s my fault!”
Sam’s arms tightened in comfort. Samuel wept in anguish for several minutes. And Sam just held him.
Finally, when the tears subsided, Samuel stammered out, “Uriel s-said... he’d bring her back for me.”
“He can’t do that.”
Samuel pulled back and frowned. “What do you mean, he can’t? He brought me back.”
“He can’t because she’s not there anymore.”
“I don’t follow you.”
He licked his lips. “I’ve seen that she’s not in Lawrence anymore. She came here to say goodbye. Michael mentioned that she is coming back anyway.”
“Sam, that doesn’t make sense. Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. But I trust Michael.”
Samuel sighed, suddenly drained. “I’m sorry, Sam. I... I think I need to sleep on all this.”
Sam pushed him over onto the bed and tucked him in.
“Sam... thank you.”
“Rest.”
Samuel nodded and let sleep take him. Sam kept watch.
Samuel fell deeply asleep within seconds, almost as if he was being dragged under. But his dream wasn’t unpleasant; he found himself back at the house in Lawrence, lounging on the front porch as he waited for Deanna and Mary to finish making lemonade or tea or whatever they were working on.
“Samuel.”
Samuel jumped as Uriel appeared in front of him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You are moving slowly.”
“I’ve been here a day.”
“You are moving too slowly. We need to get moving so we can get started on-”
“Uriel.”
Samuel looked around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Castiel was standing next to the front door, and there was some kind of sigil drawn on the wall in what looked like blood.
Uriel snarled. “The little bird thinks he has teeth.”
“No. I know I do.” And his hand raised. “Go away.” And he slammed it into the sigil.
There was a blinding flash and a scream, and Uriel was gone.
Castiel smiled and turned to Samuel.
“What the hell...” Samuel breathed.
“Banishing sigil. Very effective.”
“Why are you in my dream? ... I am dreaming, right?”
“Yes, you are dreaming.”
“So why are you here?”
“I am watching out for you. As I was asked to.”
“Asked?”
“Yes. Sam asked me to make sure Uriel wouldn’t hurt you.”
Samuel had no idea how to respond to that.
Castiel’s smile grew. “Your grandsons love you, Samuel.”
“Why? They just met me!”
“But you are their grandfather. Blood matters. Friends become family with them, and family becomes friends.”
Samuel shook his head. “Castiel... I’m so confused.”
“About what?”
“Everything. Part of it is how much I’ve missed while I’ve been dead, but... everyone in Cazadore is so kind. Especially Sam. And Uriel... I mean, I never believed in angels, but if they did exist, I didn’t think they could lie.”
“We can.”
“So now I’m having trouble understanding what’s real. What’s true and what’s not.”
Castiel nodded. “Your grandsons are real and true.”
“How can I be sure? How can I be sure of anything?”
“Faith.”
“I’m not sure I have any.”
“You have faith. It is as a mustard seed - but that’s all that’s needed.”
Samuel blinked. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you just need a tiny bit.”
“Why? What good’s a tiny bit?”
“Do you know anything of cooking?”
“A little. But I usually use mustard out of a bottle.”
“Do you know of yeast?”
“Know what it is, yeah.”
“Do you know how much yeast is needed to bake several loaves of bread?”
“No.”
Castiel held up his right hand. The thumb and index finger were only a tiny space apart.
“So you’re saying faith works like yeast?”
“Exactly.” He looked up. “And you’re waking up.”
“Wait, Castiel-”
He turned to look back.
“How will I know my faith is working right?”
The smile grew again. “When you realize the truth and when you are attacked for it.”
And Samuel woke with a gasp.
Sam arrived a few seconds later. “Grandpa? Are you okay?”
Samuel sat up, heart pounding. “I... I guess... I’m not sure.”
Sam raced into the bathroom and came out with a glass of water.
Samuel drank gratefully. He was suddenly aware he was leaning back against his grandson’s arm.
“Thanks, Sam.”
“Anytime, Grandpa.”
“Man... what a wild dream.”
“Did Castiel reach you?”
Samuel looked at him. “Yeah, he did.”
“Good. We had a feeling Uriel might try to contact you in your dreams. Azazel would do that to me.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
Samuel sighed. “I am so unused to this.”
“It’s okay.”
Castiel walked in then. “How is he?”
Samuel looked up at him. “I’m okay, thanks. How long did I sleep?”
“About two hours.”
“Felt like five minutes.”
“Do you think Uriel’s coming?” Sam asked, worried.
“Yes. But not tonight.”
“Kept telling me I was moving too slowly,” Samuel reported. “Dunno what he expects-I’m only human.”
“He sees humans as mud monkeys,” Castiel said. “His exact words.”
“Mud monkeys?” grandfather and grandson chorused incredulously.
“Yes... I do not agree.”
“Thanks for that,” Samuel murmured.
“You are the most brilliant, creative thing that my Father ever created.”
Sam ducked his head and smiled a little, clearly embarrassed.
“Humans are marvelous things.”
“Better stop him before he starts in on Hamlet,” Samuel teased Sam.
“He knew Shakespeare,” Sam grinned.
Samuel laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”
Castiel shrugged, a very human gesture. “We need to tell Dean.”
Sam sobered. “Yeah. We do.”
“I will gather them.”
“Thanks.”
There was a sound like the flapping of a bird’s wings, and he was gone.
Samuel sighed. “Could I get some coffee, Sam?”
Sam nodded and went to make some. He came back with Michael and Dean in tow. Dean looked distinctly unhappy.
Michael sat down beside Samuel. “I hear my brother has been coming to you in your dreams.”
Samuel nodded. “Wants me to move faster.”
“What?” Michael yelped.
“I take it that’s bad?”
“He is harassing you.”
“Does he ever smile?”
Michael smiled in reply.
“Only at train wrecks and earthquakes,” Cooper added, appearing in the doorway.
Samuel chuckled a little. “There is a difference. I’ll give you all that. I’m still trying to make sense of it all, but... there’s definitely a difference. Uriel just seems... harsh.”
“And the others?” Sam asked.
“Seems like they actually care.”
They do, Dean nodded and signed.
Samuel looked at Sam, who translated.
“Sorry,” Dean chuckled, even as his hands said it.
Samuel gave him a wry smile. “So what do we do now? I’m a little afraid to go back to sleep if he’s gonna keep dreamwalking on me.”
Castiel put a hand on his shoulder. “Rest. I shall be keeping watch.”
Samuel looked at him for a moment, then smiled. “Thanks, Castiel.”
He nodded. “Would you like me to tuck you in? I have observed that seems to help humans sleep better.”
Everyone but Michael burst out laughing. Michael simply smiled in amusement.
Castiel frowned and eased closer to Dean. What did I say that was funny? he signed close to his chest, “whispering.”
Dean just shook his head in amusement and patted the angel’s shoulder. “Oh, Cas. Never change.”
His look of confusion just made Dean’s smile grow.
“Actually,” Samuel said, “I think I need something to eat before I try to sleep again.”
Even he recognized the “follow me” sign Dean used.
Soon they were all in Sam’s kitchen, with Dean raiding the fridge and making sandwiches as though he were the one who lived in the house.
“You two must be close,” Samuel observed.
“We’re brothers,” Dean said as if that explained it all.
“My brothers never knew my kitchen this well, even before I married your grandmother.”
“You and your brothers didn’t live your entire lives together,” Sam said as he came into the room. “You and your brothers weren’t all you had since your older brother was four and you were six months old.” There was no rancor. It was just a matter of fact.
Samuel frowned. “Didn’t you have John?”
Both brothers snorted, and Dean set the plate in front of Samuel. As he sat down, he said, “He gave me Sammy the night of the fire. He never really took him back.”
“He was a hunter after he got over the shock of that night,” Sam said - again, just a matter of fact. “Not a father. When we left him, Dean raised me alone.”
“And that was when we both realized how much easier it was to do without him in our way,” Dean finished.
Samuel just stared. They just stared right back.
Finally, Samuel shook his head. “Campbell tough and Winchester stubborn. No wonder Uriel hates you.”
The brothers laughed together.
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