Unexpected Destinies Chapter 84
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,713
Summary: Dean and Michael deal with the fact that the Vatican has dug into Dean's past.
PAST
The incredulity kept Dean frozen for a few long moments before he was able to really read the document. It listed all of his basic stats like date of birth, place of birth, parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents, current age, height and weight, hair color, eye color and so on and so forth. Then there was also a record of each and every time he'd gotten into trouble with the law as well as a list of all of his so called crimes using the wording of the police records like 'grave desecration,' 'satanic rituals,' and 'ritualistic serial killer.'
As detailed as the first few sections had been, however, that was as how sparse the rest of it was; nothing but a bare skeleton that hardly scratched the surface. They correctly had the make and model of the Impala down as well as her color, but there was nothing for her number plate or her history. Under acquaintances it listed Pastor Jim and Bobby but that was about it. There was nothing about Caleb, Ellen, Jo or any of the other hunters they'd used to interact with frequently. Occupation, religion and relationships, both past and present, had not been filled in and both the list of schools he'd attended as a child and places he'd been to recently were woefully lacking. Not that he considered that a bad thing and it showed that they didn't know everything.
Still, the fact that they had this document at all had him in shock and Dean was slightly numb as he turned over the page to find copies of most of his mug shots along with photos from the ordeal in Milwaukee and a few other random shots. This was then followed by copies of all of the police reports from whenever he'd been arrested or even merely suspected of a crime by the authorities and a far more detailed listing of exactly what he'd been arrested for on each separate occasion. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised now if they had a copy of the tape Detective Sheridan had made of him back in Baltimore. He was so focused on the paperwork and spreading it out on one of the tables that he totally failed to notice how close Michael had gotten until the archangel was practically on top of him, looking over his shoulder.
"What is all of this?" Michael demanded, a dark edge to his voice.
It reminded Dean abruptly of the archangel's anger at learning that the FBI and cops had been after him in the past. The reaction now kinda warmed him as it showed another level of caring for him, but on the other hand it also proved how little Michael still knew about humanity to think that what he did for a living would be perceived as anything other than sheer madness at best by normal people.
"A background check," Anrig replied, voice tense.
Dean looked up at clown guy feeling like he'd been sucker punched and left almost totally open even if the file was missing critical pieces of information. The shock was finally starting to wear off, though, but he still didn't quite know how to feel about all of this. There was anger there, sure, but beyond that he was more mystified then anything else. There was, however, also plenty of wariness. Almost each and every time someone in the past had come to know so much about what he did as the Vatican now did it just hadn't ended well for him. Most people simply didn't understand as they didn't- or wouldn't- see what was out there and therefore thought the worst when they say things like 'grave desecration' or 'satanic rituals' on his rap sheet. And, somehow, he didn't think that the Roman Catholic Church would look on either of those any more kindly than the FBI or other law enforcement agencies had. Hell, they'd probably have even more issues with those, especially the latter of the two. It would explain the presence of the pointy Swiss guard this time around, if not that of the pope and the cardinals.
"A background check?" Dean repeated dully. "Why?"
"Do you have any idea how many miraculous events get reported to us every single day?" Anrig questioned. "Countless numbers and among those are a surprising number of accounts of people who claim that they've met an angel or been visited by one in their dreams."
"Seriously?"
The strange look he got for that made Dean think that while he might be using the right Italian word, the meaning of the expression might be lost in the translation. Well, either that or clown guy was just too stuffy for that kind of slang.
"So, what?" Dean tried again. "You thought this was a hoax? Even with what Father Mancini saw?"
"It had crossed our minds," Anrig admitted. "As did the possibility of it being either demonic possession or a demonic trap of some kind."
Dean's hand shot out to grasp Michael's arm even before he'd fully processed what clown guy had said as he'd felt the subtle shift in the air as the power coiled tighter around the archangel and the feathers on Michael's wings ruffled in anger. The look he received was one of annoyance and reluctant assent and he knew exactly what emotions he'd be feeling from Michael right now if the archangel had been in him. And no, damnit, that still sounded far too wrong; if he'd been the archangel's vessel right now, there that was much better. The realization, though, sent a little thrill of fear through him as he thought of how close that meant they'd grown after just two relatively short stints together but, just like before, he unceremoniously shoved the thought from his mind. There really was nothing he could do about the situation so it was no use worrying about it.
The whole thing with Michael was enough of a distraction that it took Dean a few moments to understand the true importance of what had been said. Demonic possession or a demonic trap. If they knew about demons, then it wasn't too big of a big jump to assume that they knew about hunters as well, so perhaps things weren't that bad here.
But first things first.
"Come on, Mike, it's a logical fear. Hel- ck, I was sure that Cas was a demon the first time I met him."
That seemed to get clown guy's attention. "You didn't know he was an angel right away?"
"Castiel never informed me of this," Michael said.
"Yeah, well, it's true so Bobby and I shot him full of rock salt and then I stabbed him with the demon killing knife when he first came to me."
The little shocked choking noises coming from around them seemed to amuse Michael as the archangel regarded him. "Strangely I can picture you doing precisely that despite your current relationship with Castiel. I assume you did not believe him either when he told you what he was."
"Of course not," Dean replied even as he couldn't help but start to understand clown guy's need to check into his past. "Not even after he showed me the shadows of his wings. I was convinced it was all some type of elaborate demon trap somehow."
There was an understanding in Michael's eyes now that made Dean feel very raw and vulnerable even before the archangel spoke. "Yes, you would think that over being able to believe that something good was happening to you."
The little squawk sound that escaped Dean only served to embarrass him even more but he just couldn't seem to get his voice to work properly. Damn angels and their ability to read him like an open book if they really wanted to and damn them for their complete and utter lack of understanding when it came to social norms and what one did and didn't say aloud, much less in public surrounded by complete strangers. And damn Michael and Castiel for being able to render him speechless so easily, it was just happening far too damn often lately for his liking, leaving him feeling stripped bare in a way that he hadn't allowed anyone else to make him feel in a very long time.
"You have done your checks, now you will cease this activity and leave Dean alone," Michael ordered, casting an uncompromising glare at Anrig.
Though at least both of his archangels had the decency to cover him after stripping him bare of his own defenses. Still, damn them both for doing it in the first place.
"All we needed was to know was who and what he was," clown guy replied before his eyes turned back to Dean. "You are a hunter."
"Yeah," Dean confirmed, a little startled and more then a bit relieved.
"We are one of the world's largest religious centers, did you really think we would know nothing of the Darkness that walks among us?"
"I'm not used to dealing with people who know, rather the opposite in fact."
"We have long fought demons and other unnatural creatures," Anrig declared. "All of my men have undergone basic training regarding the supernatural in case anything should try and enter here."
"Does that happen often?" Dean asked, surprised.
"It is not unheard of though it is rare due to our wards and protection spells."
And wasn't that just a kicker? Dean couldn't help but find the thought of the Vatican itself being protected by magic as well as the consecrated ground it had been built on as being funny. After all, seriously? Too bad he couldn't tell some of the religious nutters about that one, well he could but they'd never believe him so there was no point really. The last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument with one of them as there was simply no reasoning with them. Just the memory of the look in the eyes of the man he'd gone to when he intended to give in to Michael before the whole confrontation in Stull was still enough to make him shudder.
Despite all of his experience with angels, even Dean jumped when Michael's hand suddenly stretched over his shoulder and all of his police records burst into flame. Instead of reacting in alarm like the others, though, he merely looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at the archangel as he took in the dark look on Michael's face.
"Was that really necessary?" Dean asked.
"Yes. The reminder of them hunting you angers me," Michael stated simply.
"Yeah, well, you do realize that burning these paper records doesn't really change anything, right? They're just printouts of electronic records the cops and feds still have."
The look darkened even more and Dean was glad that he wasn't on the wrong side of it. A pissed off archangel was not a good thing to face as he now had ample proof of both visually and otherwise. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch the spot Simiel's sword had skewered him.
"How are those records destroyed?"
"By destroying whatever central server they're stored on and no, I don't know where that is, nor do I know how to find out."
"Or by having the records deleted off the FBI mainframe database," Anrig added. "And that has already been taken care of."
Dean's head snapped around to look at clown guy at that pronouncement. "What?"
"We have already had these records deleted, the FBI no longer possesses them."
"You have people in the FBI?"
"We have people in many different organizations, agencies and governments throughout the world."
"And they do things of this nature just like that?"
"When it is deemed necessary, yes."
"So there's nothing there anymore?"
"No, there is still a record that there was once a case about you, but there is no longer any actual information in the file. We knew if it was completely erased that questions might arise if an agent who worked your case were ever to discover that, so instead we have made it look like the whole thing was archived and special authorization would be needed to access it," Anrig explained. "We will be informed if such an attempt is ever made."
"What about Sam's file?"
"We have done the same for your brother's records, the two were too intertwined for us to be able to remove just one of them without doing the same for the other."
"Why? Why did you do all of that?"
It was all so sudden and so much that Dean just couldn't figure it out. Yes he'd known that the Roman Catholic Church was powerful, but he'd never thought that the Vatican might have people in organizations and governments that could pull off things like this. Not to mention that fact that he'd never have considered that they'd do this for him even if he had known they were capable of it. He was instantly wary of the whole thing but this time at least he knew why and damn Castiel and Michael for making him start to think that perhaps such automatic and instinctual resistance to good news wasn't necessarily the right kind of attitude to have. Freaking angels.
"You are obviously chosen and fighting the Apocalypse," phone guy stated, speaking up for the first time in a while. "As such you cannot afford to be detained or have your actions curtailed by those who are not aware of or do not understand the importance of your mission. It was the least we could do to help."
"It is appreciated," Michael stated, seemingly a lot calmer now.
"Yeah," Dean echoed, still not having regained his equilibrium yet.
This was so not what he'd been expected when he'd had first caught sight of the fact sheet about himself but for once it was a good thing and for that Dean was glad. He glanced down at the ashes that were all that was left of the printouts of his so called criminal record and he frowned when he realized that there was more to the folder clown guy'd had and that it hadn't all burned. Apparently Michael could chose to burn just that which offended him. He brushed aside the ashes and was startled to find a photo of Sam underneath it. After that was a photo of his father, then one of his mother, followed by one each of his grandparents, Aunt Deirdre, Pastor Jim, Castiel, Raphael, Ruby the second and then a few of people he either didn't know or only vaguely recognized.
Dean froze as he turned a photo over and caught sight of the one underneath it. Lucifer, or at least the fallen archangel as he'd been in his old vessel. It must have been taken later on as the poor man's face was already showing signs of power decay, but beyond that it was a surprisingly good image and he wondered who on Earth had captured it let alone how Anrig had gotten his hands on it. Turning it over he found the name Nick Grady written on the back.
"Grady?" Dean whispered looking at the archangel. "Why isn't he a... well, you know?"
"He inherited the ability to house my brother from his mother," Michael replied softly. "He would have been the last in that part of his bloodline as it was not the main branch of the family."
For once it seemed like an angel understood his desire for discretion and Dean was thankful of it as he had no desire to advertise the Campbell family's greatest and darkest secret. Especially since the Vatican seemed not to have made the connection between Grady's mother and his own maternal family. He briefly wondered how distant a relative this Nick had been before he tried to push it aside. It wasn't really relevant anymore seeing as the poor bastard was already dead.
"Who was he?" clown guy asked. "He came up during our research of unusual activity in the States but we couldn't figure out who he was though he seemed to interact with demons."
"Oh he interacted with demons alright," Dean replied, holding up the photo. "Anriky, meet Lucy."
Chapter 85
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,713
Summary: Dean and Michael deal with the fact that the Vatican has dug into Dean's past.
PAST
The incredulity kept Dean frozen for a few long moments before he was able to really read the document. It listed all of his basic stats like date of birth, place of birth, parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents, current age, height and weight, hair color, eye color and so on and so forth. Then there was also a record of each and every time he'd gotten into trouble with the law as well as a list of all of his so called crimes using the wording of the police records like 'grave desecration,' 'satanic rituals,' and 'ritualistic serial killer.'
As detailed as the first few sections had been, however, that was as how sparse the rest of it was; nothing but a bare skeleton that hardly scratched the surface. They correctly had the make and model of the Impala down as well as her color, but there was nothing for her number plate or her history. Under acquaintances it listed Pastor Jim and Bobby but that was about it. There was nothing about Caleb, Ellen, Jo or any of the other hunters they'd used to interact with frequently. Occupation, religion and relationships, both past and present, had not been filled in and both the list of schools he'd attended as a child and places he'd been to recently were woefully lacking. Not that he considered that a bad thing and it showed that they didn't know everything.
Still, the fact that they had this document at all had him in shock and Dean was slightly numb as he turned over the page to find copies of most of his mug shots along with photos from the ordeal in Milwaukee and a few other random shots. This was then followed by copies of all of the police reports from whenever he'd been arrested or even merely suspected of a crime by the authorities and a far more detailed listing of exactly what he'd been arrested for on each separate occasion. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised now if they had a copy of the tape Detective Sheridan had made of him back in Baltimore. He was so focused on the paperwork and spreading it out on one of the tables that he totally failed to notice how close Michael had gotten until the archangel was practically on top of him, looking over his shoulder.
"What is all of this?" Michael demanded, a dark edge to his voice.
It reminded Dean abruptly of the archangel's anger at learning that the FBI and cops had been after him in the past. The reaction now kinda warmed him as it showed another level of caring for him, but on the other hand it also proved how little Michael still knew about humanity to think that what he did for a living would be perceived as anything other than sheer madness at best by normal people.
"A background check," Anrig replied, voice tense.
Dean looked up at clown guy feeling like he'd been sucker punched and left almost totally open even if the file was missing critical pieces of information. The shock was finally starting to wear off, though, but he still didn't quite know how to feel about all of this. There was anger there, sure, but beyond that he was more mystified then anything else. There was, however, also plenty of wariness. Almost each and every time someone in the past had come to know so much about what he did as the Vatican now did it just hadn't ended well for him. Most people simply didn't understand as they didn't- or wouldn't- see what was out there and therefore thought the worst when they say things like 'grave desecration' or 'satanic rituals' on his rap sheet. And, somehow, he didn't think that the Roman Catholic Church would look on either of those any more kindly than the FBI or other law enforcement agencies had. Hell, they'd probably have even more issues with those, especially the latter of the two. It would explain the presence of the pointy Swiss guard this time around, if not that of the pope and the cardinals.
"A background check?" Dean repeated dully. "Why?"
"Do you have any idea how many miraculous events get reported to us every single day?" Anrig questioned. "Countless numbers and among those are a surprising number of accounts of people who claim that they've met an angel or been visited by one in their dreams."
"Seriously?"
The strange look he got for that made Dean think that while he might be using the right Italian word, the meaning of the expression might be lost in the translation. Well, either that or clown guy was just too stuffy for that kind of slang.
"So, what?" Dean tried again. "You thought this was a hoax? Even with what Father Mancini saw?"
"It had crossed our minds," Anrig admitted. "As did the possibility of it being either demonic possession or a demonic trap of some kind."
Dean's hand shot out to grasp Michael's arm even before he'd fully processed what clown guy had said as he'd felt the subtle shift in the air as the power coiled tighter around the archangel and the feathers on Michael's wings ruffled in anger. The look he received was one of annoyance and reluctant assent and he knew exactly what emotions he'd be feeling from Michael right now if the archangel had been in him. And no, damnit, that still sounded far too wrong; if he'd been the archangel's vessel right now, there that was much better. The realization, though, sent a little thrill of fear through him as he thought of how close that meant they'd grown after just two relatively short stints together but, just like before, he unceremoniously shoved the thought from his mind. There really was nothing he could do about the situation so it was no use worrying about it.
The whole thing with Michael was enough of a distraction that it took Dean a few moments to understand the true importance of what had been said. Demonic possession or a demonic trap. If they knew about demons, then it wasn't too big of a big jump to assume that they knew about hunters as well, so perhaps things weren't that bad here.
But first things first.
"Come on, Mike, it's a logical fear. Hel- ck, I was sure that Cas was a demon the first time I met him."
That seemed to get clown guy's attention. "You didn't know he was an angel right away?"
"Castiel never informed me of this," Michael said.
"Yeah, well, it's true so Bobby and I shot him full of rock salt and then I stabbed him with the demon killing knife when he first came to me."
The little shocked choking noises coming from around them seemed to amuse Michael as the archangel regarded him. "Strangely I can picture you doing precisely that despite your current relationship with Castiel. I assume you did not believe him either when he told you what he was."
"Of course not," Dean replied even as he couldn't help but start to understand clown guy's need to check into his past. "Not even after he showed me the shadows of his wings. I was convinced it was all some type of elaborate demon trap somehow."
There was an understanding in Michael's eyes now that made Dean feel very raw and vulnerable even before the archangel spoke. "Yes, you would think that over being able to believe that something good was happening to you."
The little squawk sound that escaped Dean only served to embarrass him even more but he just couldn't seem to get his voice to work properly. Damn angels and their ability to read him like an open book if they really wanted to and damn them for their complete and utter lack of understanding when it came to social norms and what one did and didn't say aloud, much less in public surrounded by complete strangers. And damn Michael and Castiel for being able to render him speechless so easily, it was just happening far too damn often lately for his liking, leaving him feeling stripped bare in a way that he hadn't allowed anyone else to make him feel in a very long time.
"You have done your checks, now you will cease this activity and leave Dean alone," Michael ordered, casting an uncompromising glare at Anrig.
Though at least both of his archangels had the decency to cover him after stripping him bare of his own defenses. Still, damn them both for doing it in the first place.
"All we needed was to know was who and what he was," clown guy replied before his eyes turned back to Dean. "You are a hunter."
"Yeah," Dean confirmed, a little startled and more then a bit relieved.
"We are one of the world's largest religious centers, did you really think we would know nothing of the Darkness that walks among us?"
"I'm not used to dealing with people who know, rather the opposite in fact."
"We have long fought demons and other unnatural creatures," Anrig declared. "All of my men have undergone basic training regarding the supernatural in case anything should try and enter here."
"Does that happen often?" Dean asked, surprised.
"It is not unheard of though it is rare due to our wards and protection spells."
And wasn't that just a kicker? Dean couldn't help but find the thought of the Vatican itself being protected by magic as well as the consecrated ground it had been built on as being funny. After all, seriously? Too bad he couldn't tell some of the religious nutters about that one, well he could but they'd never believe him so there was no point really. The last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument with one of them as there was simply no reasoning with them. Just the memory of the look in the eyes of the man he'd gone to when he intended to give in to Michael before the whole confrontation in Stull was still enough to make him shudder.
Despite all of his experience with angels, even Dean jumped when Michael's hand suddenly stretched over his shoulder and all of his police records burst into flame. Instead of reacting in alarm like the others, though, he merely looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at the archangel as he took in the dark look on Michael's face.
"Was that really necessary?" Dean asked.
"Yes. The reminder of them hunting you angers me," Michael stated simply.
"Yeah, well, you do realize that burning these paper records doesn't really change anything, right? They're just printouts of electronic records the cops and feds still have."
The look darkened even more and Dean was glad that he wasn't on the wrong side of it. A pissed off archangel was not a good thing to face as he now had ample proof of both visually and otherwise. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch the spot Simiel's sword had skewered him.
"How are those records destroyed?"
"By destroying whatever central server they're stored on and no, I don't know where that is, nor do I know how to find out."
"Or by having the records deleted off the FBI mainframe database," Anrig added. "And that has already been taken care of."
Dean's head snapped around to look at clown guy at that pronouncement. "What?"
"We have already had these records deleted, the FBI no longer possesses them."
"You have people in the FBI?"
"We have people in many different organizations, agencies and governments throughout the world."
"And they do things of this nature just like that?"
"When it is deemed necessary, yes."
"So there's nothing there anymore?"
"No, there is still a record that there was once a case about you, but there is no longer any actual information in the file. We knew if it was completely erased that questions might arise if an agent who worked your case were ever to discover that, so instead we have made it look like the whole thing was archived and special authorization would be needed to access it," Anrig explained. "We will be informed if such an attempt is ever made."
"What about Sam's file?"
"We have done the same for your brother's records, the two were too intertwined for us to be able to remove just one of them without doing the same for the other."
"Why? Why did you do all of that?"
It was all so sudden and so much that Dean just couldn't figure it out. Yes he'd known that the Roman Catholic Church was powerful, but he'd never thought that the Vatican might have people in organizations and governments that could pull off things like this. Not to mention that fact that he'd never have considered that they'd do this for him even if he had known they were capable of it. He was instantly wary of the whole thing but this time at least he knew why and damn Castiel and Michael for making him start to think that perhaps such automatic and instinctual resistance to good news wasn't necessarily the right kind of attitude to have. Freaking angels.
"You are obviously chosen and fighting the Apocalypse," phone guy stated, speaking up for the first time in a while. "As such you cannot afford to be detained or have your actions curtailed by those who are not aware of or do not understand the importance of your mission. It was the least we could do to help."
"It is appreciated," Michael stated, seemingly a lot calmer now.
"Yeah," Dean echoed, still not having regained his equilibrium yet.
This was so not what he'd been expected when he'd had first caught sight of the fact sheet about himself but for once it was a good thing and for that Dean was glad. He glanced down at the ashes that were all that was left of the printouts of his so called criminal record and he frowned when he realized that there was more to the folder clown guy'd had and that it hadn't all burned. Apparently Michael could chose to burn just that which offended him. He brushed aside the ashes and was startled to find a photo of Sam underneath it. After that was a photo of his father, then one of his mother, followed by one each of his grandparents, Aunt Deirdre, Pastor Jim, Castiel, Raphael, Ruby the second and then a few of people he either didn't know or only vaguely recognized.
Dean froze as he turned a photo over and caught sight of the one underneath it. Lucifer, or at least the fallen archangel as he'd been in his old vessel. It must have been taken later on as the poor man's face was already showing signs of power decay, but beyond that it was a surprisingly good image and he wondered who on Earth had captured it let alone how Anrig had gotten his hands on it. Turning it over he found the name Nick Grady written on the back.
"Grady?" Dean whispered looking at the archangel. "Why isn't he a... well, you know?"
"He inherited the ability to house my brother from his mother," Michael replied softly. "He would have been the last in that part of his bloodline as it was not the main branch of the family."
For once it seemed like an angel understood his desire for discretion and Dean was thankful of it as he had no desire to advertise the Campbell family's greatest and darkest secret. Especially since the Vatican seemed not to have made the connection between Grady's mother and his own maternal family. He briefly wondered how distant a relative this Nick had been before he tried to push it aside. It wasn't really relevant anymore seeing as the poor bastard was already dead.
"Who was he?" clown guy asked. "He came up during our research of unusual activity in the States but we couldn't figure out who he was though he seemed to interact with demons."
"Oh he interacted with demons alright," Dean replied, holding up the photo. "Anriky, meet Lucy."
Chapter 85