Unexpected Destinies Chapter 5
Title Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 1,860
Summary: Dean learns about Samuel and Cas' plan to find Sam.
PAST
"Samuel," Dean repeated, closing his eyes.
He could still vividly recall Azazel possessing his grandfather and stabbing him in the gut with his own knife. Of all the ways for a hunter to go, it was a pretty crappy, if predictable, one. Anyone who hunted the supernatural had an increased likelihood of being possessed and purposefully killed by the demon doing the possessing. The demons liked the irony of doing so, especially when they could do it in front of family or friends. It had been a wonder to him that the demon possessing Sam hadn't done so until he'd discovered that it was Meg and learned of her intended end game.
Although he wanted to be happy that his grandfather was back, Dean had learned to know better. "That's not a good thing, is it?"
"No, it is not," Castiel confirmed. "I have endeavored to discover who has done this and why, but so far I have been unsuccessful."
"Well that's just great."
"I do, however, know that Samuel is as unaware of the reason for his resurrection as we are."
"Whoever it is didn't tell him?"
"No."
"How do you know?"
"He and the others were discussing it one evening when I went to investigate."
Dean sighed as he took in this new information. Two resurrections, one from Heaven and one from Hell, in rapid succession following swiftly on the heels of the end of the Apocalypse. He didn't need anyone to tell him that wasn't good.
"While I was there, I noticed some of Sam's stuff, so I assumed that the two of you had found Samuel," Castiel continued.
The words derailed Dean's train of thought. "You think Sam might be with Samuel?" he blinked. "And that's not going to get confusing at all."
"I believe it is a distinct possibility, yes." A pause. "On both counts."
"And you can find Samuel?"
"I made sure to... I believe you would say tag his soul to ensure that I will always be able to find it swiftly if necessary."
"Great, let's go."
"Are you sure you want to do this, Dean?" Castiel inquired.
"Yeah, of course. Why?"
Dean forcefully ignored the little voice in his head that tried to make itself known. It didn't want to go see Sam, it wanted stay as far away from him as possible so that he couldn't hurt them anymore.
"I just don't want to see you hurt any further."
The admission made Dean swallow but didn't diminish his determination any. "I need to see Sammy to- just to make sure he's really okay. Cas, please."
"Very well, but I'm going to take us in hidden, so that they can't see us."
"Why?"
"Because the last time there were other hunters about and I don't want you getting shot by accident when we arrive."
"Ah, yeah, thanks."
He'd gotten so used to Castiel popping in and out all of the time towards the end of the Apocalypse that Dean had forgotten how badly he used to react to the angel's sudden appearances. Getting shot by a fellow hunter just as he was getting to see Sam again was not his idea of a good way to go.
The next moment Castiel was in his personal space, fingers raised towards his forehead.
"Ready?"
"Yeah," Dean replied though he wasn't sure he could ever be, not for this.
The trip wasn't nearly as jarring as Dean expected and he hardly even felt a twinge in his gut.
"It would appear that archangels are better able to modulate the effects of flying on humans," Castiel said at Dean's startled look.
"Oh," Dean said. "So no constipation?"
"Your bowel movements should remain normal, yes."
"Great."
They were in an darkened room in what appeared to be an old, abandoned warehouse. Or at least it looked like it had been abandoned for some time before people had moved in again as tools, guns and knives littered various surfaces. Dean felt his heart clench at the sight. Those were hunter supplies and more than would be necessary for just one or two people. What was going on here? Had Sam and Samuel joined another group of hunters? The thought hurt, to think that Sam would not only not seek him out, but that he'd then gone and joined a random group of hunters, especially when so many of them had wanted him dead for his part in starting the Apocalypse...
"Sam is here," Castiel said, head tilted as he listened to something Dean couldn't hear. "There are five people in total."
"Great. You sure they can't see us?"
"Yes."
"What about hear us?"
"Dean, we are completely hidden from their perception."
"Just like that?"
"No, it requires a great deal of effort to cloak a vessel so completely from the perception of others, much less another human, but you're making it very easy, accepting my Grace readily."
Dean frowned, now that just sounded wrong. "Kinky."
If he were human, Dean was sure Castiel would have sighed just now. As it was, it looked like the angel was close to strangling him. He smiled, taking it as a small victory. At least he could still enjoy a few small pleasures.
"Your soul, Dean, it is letting me do what I need to without any resistance," Castiel explained.
"It is?" Dean blinked.
That was a little surprising. Sure, Dean trusted Cas, but still, for his soul to just accept the angel's touch so easily, without him even being consciously aware of it, was startling. He must trust Castiel even more implicitly than he'd realized. Or did the feelings he'd been developing recently have something to do with it?
"More easily than I've ever seen. It is probably because I have held your soul before."
"You think it recognizes you?"
"Yes."
Castiel's eyes had shifted to his shoulder where his T-shirt hid the scar. Dean shivered at the intense look in the angel's eyes and silently bemoaned his luck. Of course he had to go and like a being who had no concept of personal space or his own appeal. He could just imagine the confused head tilt he'd get if he were to say anything to that effect.
The sound of voices and laughter reached him then and his heart lurched as he recognized Sammy's protesting tones. His first response was relief, Sam really was okay. The next, inevitably, was hurt. it was pretty clear that whoever was with his little brother was teasing him in a familiar manner.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam said. "Just wait till next time, dude."
"Won't happen, Sammy, I'm not stupid enough to fall for that kind of shit," a male voice replied.
Sam's reply was lost on Dean as soon as he realized it wasn't a complaint at the use of that nickname. Sam hated it when he called him that and was almost always protesting it. So why was he allowing this other hunter, this stranger, to call him that?
"You running away?" this time the voice was female and about their age if he didn't miss his guess.
"Just putting my laptop away," Sam stated, paused and then continued. "Until the next lesson that is."
"Very subtle, Sam."
This voice Dean did recognize. Although he hadn't known his grandfather for very long, hardly a day when all was said and done, the experience had been notable enough to be forever etched into his memory. Then Sam was in the room with them and all of Dean's attention was focused on his little brother. He looked okay was the first thing Dean noted. There were no visible wounds on him and he moved with the ease of one unencumbered by pain.
Or grief.
Or guilt.
Dean shoved the two thoughts aside as he continued to greedily drink in not only his brother's appearance but the very radiance and essence of it. Here, at last, was the physical proof of what Castiel had told him. It wasn't that he didn't believe the angel, but a part of him had a hard time accepting such a miraculous truth without seeing it with his own two eyes. Good things just didn't happen like that in his experience.
And that was the crux of the matter, now wasn't it. Good things just didn't happen like this, not without one hell of a price tag. In the case of his resurrection, it had turned out that the head honcho angels had needed his meatsuit in order to achieve their goals. So much for all of Castiel's thoughts on people 'deserving to be saved' and all that other crap. He somehow doubted that the angel was still naive enough to believe any of that after what they'd gone through. Although, on second thought, Dean suddenly wasn't so sure of that. At least not when it came to him, Castiel seemed to have a serious blind spot when it came down to him. He'd have to see about correcting that later if he had the time.
It wasn't lost on Dean how his mind kept going off on tangents, almost as if seeking to avoid having to deal with the bigger issue here. Yes, now that he'd seen for himself that Sammy was not only out of Hell, but hale and whole as well, it only made the other issues, the ones he'd desperately been trying to shove aside, that much worse.
"I'm just saying, Samuel, if you want to live and work in the twenty-first century you're going to have to learn how to use computers and the internet," Sam stated, putting his laptop on a cluttered table.
"I'm not arguing with you there," Samuel replied, appearing in the doorway. "I'm just saying you clearly lack the ability to be subtle."
Dean only partially registered Sam's insulted expression- and wasn't it a kicker that gramps agreed with him on this issue that Sammy had always considered himself to excel at?- most of his attention focused on his grandfather. What the hell? In his, albeit limited experience, resurrected people tended to look the way they had when they'd died or better. But Samuel... Samuel didn't. He looked older and, dare he say it?, frailer than he remembered him being.
"Cas?" Dean inquired.
Castiel, however, looked equally puzzled, frowning at the older man. "He did not look like this the last time I saw him."
"That's not normal, is it?"
"No."
"Any idea what's causing it?"
The look Castiel gave him was all the response Dean needed and he cursed. That was just great, really. What more did they need then resurrected relatives who seemed to be changing unnaturally? As if they didn't already have enough to deal with figuring out how they'd gotten resurrected in the first place. Or by who.
"I can be subtle," Sam's tone was petulant and Dean wanted to smack him on principle. "When I want to be."
"Not like your mother could be," Samuel countered, a fond yet sad expression crossing his face. "Well, when she wasn't showing her spunk and sass. And speaking of spunk and sass, we need to talk about Dean."
Chapter 6
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 1,860
Summary: Dean learns about Samuel and Cas' plan to find Sam.
PAST
"Samuel," Dean repeated, closing his eyes.
He could still vividly recall Azazel possessing his grandfather and stabbing him in the gut with his own knife. Of all the ways for a hunter to go, it was a pretty crappy, if predictable, one. Anyone who hunted the supernatural had an increased likelihood of being possessed and purposefully killed by the demon doing the possessing. The demons liked the irony of doing so, especially when they could do it in front of family or friends. It had been a wonder to him that the demon possessing Sam hadn't done so until he'd discovered that it was Meg and learned of her intended end game.
Although he wanted to be happy that his grandfather was back, Dean had learned to know better. "That's not a good thing, is it?"
"No, it is not," Castiel confirmed. "I have endeavored to discover who has done this and why, but so far I have been unsuccessful."
"Well that's just great."
"I do, however, know that Samuel is as unaware of the reason for his resurrection as we are."
"Whoever it is didn't tell him?"
"No."
"How do you know?"
"He and the others were discussing it one evening when I went to investigate."
Dean sighed as he took in this new information. Two resurrections, one from Heaven and one from Hell, in rapid succession following swiftly on the heels of the end of the Apocalypse. He didn't need anyone to tell him that wasn't good.
"While I was there, I noticed some of Sam's stuff, so I assumed that the two of you had found Samuel," Castiel continued.
The words derailed Dean's train of thought. "You think Sam might be with Samuel?" he blinked. "And that's not going to get confusing at all."
"I believe it is a distinct possibility, yes." A pause. "On both counts."
"And you can find Samuel?"
"I made sure to... I believe you would say tag his soul to ensure that I will always be able to find it swiftly if necessary."
"Great, let's go."
"Are you sure you want to do this, Dean?" Castiel inquired.
"Yeah, of course. Why?"
Dean forcefully ignored the little voice in his head that tried to make itself known. It didn't want to go see Sam, it wanted stay as far away from him as possible so that he couldn't hurt them anymore.
"I just don't want to see you hurt any further."
The admission made Dean swallow but didn't diminish his determination any. "I need to see Sammy to- just to make sure he's really okay. Cas, please."
"Very well, but I'm going to take us in hidden, so that they can't see us."
"Why?"
"Because the last time there were other hunters about and I don't want you getting shot by accident when we arrive."
"Ah, yeah, thanks."
He'd gotten so used to Castiel popping in and out all of the time towards the end of the Apocalypse that Dean had forgotten how badly he used to react to the angel's sudden appearances. Getting shot by a fellow hunter just as he was getting to see Sam again was not his idea of a good way to go.
The next moment Castiel was in his personal space, fingers raised towards his forehead.
"Ready?"
"Yeah," Dean replied though he wasn't sure he could ever be, not for this.
The trip wasn't nearly as jarring as Dean expected and he hardly even felt a twinge in his gut.
"It would appear that archangels are better able to modulate the effects of flying on humans," Castiel said at Dean's startled look.
"Oh," Dean said. "So no constipation?"
"Your bowel movements should remain normal, yes."
"Great."
They were in an darkened room in what appeared to be an old, abandoned warehouse. Or at least it looked like it had been abandoned for some time before people had moved in again as tools, guns and knives littered various surfaces. Dean felt his heart clench at the sight. Those were hunter supplies and more than would be necessary for just one or two people. What was going on here? Had Sam and Samuel joined another group of hunters? The thought hurt, to think that Sam would not only not seek him out, but that he'd then gone and joined a random group of hunters, especially when so many of them had wanted him dead for his part in starting the Apocalypse...
"Sam is here," Castiel said, head tilted as he listened to something Dean couldn't hear. "There are five people in total."
"Great. You sure they can't see us?"
"Yes."
"What about hear us?"
"Dean, we are completely hidden from their perception."
"Just like that?"
"No, it requires a great deal of effort to cloak a vessel so completely from the perception of others, much less another human, but you're making it very easy, accepting my Grace readily."
Dean frowned, now that just sounded wrong. "Kinky."
If he were human, Dean was sure Castiel would have sighed just now. As it was, it looked like the angel was close to strangling him. He smiled, taking it as a small victory. At least he could still enjoy a few small pleasures.
"Your soul, Dean, it is letting me do what I need to without any resistance," Castiel explained.
"It is?" Dean blinked.
That was a little surprising. Sure, Dean trusted Cas, but still, for his soul to just accept the angel's touch so easily, without him even being consciously aware of it, was startling. He must trust Castiel even more implicitly than he'd realized. Or did the feelings he'd been developing recently have something to do with it?
"More easily than I've ever seen. It is probably because I have held your soul before."
"You think it recognizes you?"
"Yes."
Castiel's eyes had shifted to his shoulder where his T-shirt hid the scar. Dean shivered at the intense look in the angel's eyes and silently bemoaned his luck. Of course he had to go and like a being who had no concept of personal space or his own appeal. He could just imagine the confused head tilt he'd get if he were to say anything to that effect.
The sound of voices and laughter reached him then and his heart lurched as he recognized Sammy's protesting tones. His first response was relief, Sam really was okay. The next, inevitably, was hurt. it was pretty clear that whoever was with his little brother was teasing him in a familiar manner.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam said. "Just wait till next time, dude."
"Won't happen, Sammy, I'm not stupid enough to fall for that kind of shit," a male voice replied.
Sam's reply was lost on Dean as soon as he realized it wasn't a complaint at the use of that nickname. Sam hated it when he called him that and was almost always protesting it. So why was he allowing this other hunter, this stranger, to call him that?
"You running away?" this time the voice was female and about their age if he didn't miss his guess.
"Just putting my laptop away," Sam stated, paused and then continued. "Until the next lesson that is."
"Very subtle, Sam."
This voice Dean did recognize. Although he hadn't known his grandfather for very long, hardly a day when all was said and done, the experience had been notable enough to be forever etched into his memory. Then Sam was in the room with them and all of Dean's attention was focused on his little brother. He looked okay was the first thing Dean noted. There were no visible wounds on him and he moved with the ease of one unencumbered by pain.
Or grief.
Or guilt.
Dean shoved the two thoughts aside as he continued to greedily drink in not only his brother's appearance but the very radiance and essence of it. Here, at last, was the physical proof of what Castiel had told him. It wasn't that he didn't believe the angel, but a part of him had a hard time accepting such a miraculous truth without seeing it with his own two eyes. Good things just didn't happen like that in his experience.
And that was the crux of the matter, now wasn't it. Good things just didn't happen like this, not without one hell of a price tag. In the case of his resurrection, it had turned out that the head honcho angels had needed his meatsuit in order to achieve their goals. So much for all of Castiel's thoughts on people 'deserving to be saved' and all that other crap. He somehow doubted that the angel was still naive enough to believe any of that after what they'd gone through. Although, on second thought, Dean suddenly wasn't so sure of that. At least not when it came to him, Castiel seemed to have a serious blind spot when it came down to him. He'd have to see about correcting that later if he had the time.
It wasn't lost on Dean how his mind kept going off on tangents, almost as if seeking to avoid having to deal with the bigger issue here. Yes, now that he'd seen for himself that Sammy was not only out of Hell, but hale and whole as well, it only made the other issues, the ones he'd desperately been trying to shove aside, that much worse.
"I'm just saying, Samuel, if you want to live and work in the twenty-first century you're going to have to learn how to use computers and the internet," Sam stated, putting his laptop on a cluttered table.
"I'm not arguing with you there," Samuel replied, appearing in the doorway. "I'm just saying you clearly lack the ability to be subtle."
Dean only partially registered Sam's insulted expression- and wasn't it a kicker that gramps agreed with him on this issue that Sammy had always considered himself to excel at?- most of his attention focused on his grandfather. What the hell? In his, albeit limited experience, resurrected people tended to look the way they had when they'd died or better. But Samuel... Samuel didn't. He looked older and, dare he say it?, frailer than he remembered him being.
"Cas?" Dean inquired.
Castiel, however, looked equally puzzled, frowning at the older man. "He did not look like this the last time I saw him."
"That's not normal, is it?"
"No."
"Any idea what's causing it?"
The look Castiel gave him was all the response Dean needed and he cursed. That was just great, really. What more did they need then resurrected relatives who seemed to be changing unnaturally? As if they didn't already have enough to deal with figuring out how they'd gotten resurrected in the first place. Or by who.
"I can be subtle," Sam's tone was petulant and Dean wanted to smack him on principle. "When I want to be."
"Not like your mother could be," Samuel countered, a fond yet sad expression crossing his face. "Well, when she wasn't showing her spunk and sass. And speaking of spunk and sass, we need to talk about Dean."
Chapter 6