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Fandom: Supernatural/Leverage
Title: The Family Business Part Two
Pairings/Characters: Sam, Dean, John, Bobby, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Parker, Hardison, OFCs
Word Count: 19307 (entire piece)
Rating: R
Summary: Sam and Dean get a call from someone they've worked, and played, with in the past, but when they meet up with Eliot Spencer in a small town in Kentucky everything they thought they knew changes.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is set mid season 7 for Supernatural, picking up somewhere around 7X07 and spanning to just before 7X17. For Leverage, it is between seasons 4 and 5. And yes, it leaves some things unresolved. I will likely come back to it eventually and chase out how the rest of the season would have changed. CANON CHARACTER DEATH, though it is entirely off screen.
Dean left Sam sleeping, after drugging his coffee to make sure he would and went out to the car, opening the trunk and shifting things aside so he could lift the false panel. They had installed the lock box a while back, secured with a combination of locks and sigils that kept even angels from seeing what was in it. He dialed Bobby’s number after opening it, running a finger over the symbol etched into the box Eliot had given him.
“Hey, it’s me.”
Bobby grumbled and groused about the number of books he’d been through and how hard it was without his old collection. “So, you’ve got nothing?” Dean asked, irritated himself.
“Don’t you get smart with me idjit. I didn’t say I got nothing. I said it is difficult to find anything when the core of my collection is gone. Got some old angel lore that might help. Be better if I could get a look at the box. When you getting here?”
“We’re still in Kentucky.” Dean said, looking up at the sound of footsteps. He raised a hand at his father who was crossing the street from the diner.
“Why? Catch a case?”
“Sort of. It’s a long story. Might be better in person.”
“You forget we got an army of shape-shifting face eaters to deal with?” Bobby asked.
“No, I haven’t forgotten Bobby. Something came up though.”
“Sam alright?”
Dean took a deep breath. “I drugged his coffee this morning because he didn’t sleep much again last night, if that’s any indication. He’ll be pissed at me when he wakes up, but at least he’ll have slept.” He felt the look his father was giving him without looking up. “Look, I have to go. Keep looking. Call me if you find anything.” He hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re drugging your brother?”
“You would have too. He hasn’t slept but for a few hours last night, which ended in a nightmare that nearly resulted in broken furniture. He’s going to hurt himself.”
John nodded toward the box. “What’s that?”
Dean took a deep breath. “That is the reason Sam and I are here. Eliot came across it working a job down south, got him chased by demons, so he figured me and Sam should have it.”
“Demons?” John put his hands in his pockets and looked Dean in the eye. “You open it?”
“Yes. And we aren’t doing it again. Not while Sam is anywhere nearby.”
“Why?”
“The way he reacted, like he took a knee to the stomach.” Dean had never seen anything like it...Sam’s reaction or the contents of the box. “We don’t know why, though Bobby’s got a feeling it’s got to do with Lucifer. He’s researching.”
“Bobby, huh?” John asked.
Dean snorted and closed the lock box, then the trunk. “Yeah. He’s researching.”
“You tell him about me?”
Dean shook his head. “No, I thought I’d actually let you live a while longer.”
“He’s still holding a grudge?”
“Let’s just say he has a few choice opinions about you and leave it at that.”
“Okay. What about you?”
Dean frowned. “Me?”
“You and Sam.”
“What about us?”
“You’ve been through so much. You must have a some grudges of your own.”
“I’d be lying if I said we both didn’t have issues with the way things were, but we don’t have time for second guessing and pointing fingers. Too much to deal with now.”
“Morning John.”
His father waved to the woman walking her dog past the motel. “I’m late. Walk with me?”
Dean glanced at the door of the motel, then nodded. “Sure. Where are we going?”
“I have to open the store.”
Dean snorted and fell into step beside his father. “I still can’t imagine you here, all these years, working a hardware store.”
His father chuckled. “Trust me, for the longest time, neither could I.”
They walked in silence for a while, turning onto the main street of town. John unlocked the door to the store and flicked on the lights. It was like any other over-crowded, small town hardware store Dean had ever seen, though it was more orderly than many. His father moved through an aisle and toward the back, and Dean followed slowly.
“Come on back here, I want you to see something.” John called from behind the register.
Dean came around the counter and followed John into a back room, where he pulled out his keys again and opened what Dean thought was a closet door, but turned out to be the door into a small room. A devil’s trap was painted on the floor and there was a desk crammed into one corner. The opposite wall was covered with a huge map of the US and pictures and news clippings.
At first he just took it as a wall of hunts his father couldn’t go on, but as he stared he realized that it was more than that. There were pictures of Dean and Sam and their father that he had never seen before, each pinned near some town. “You took these?”
John nodded. “I used to take vacations a couple times a year. I’d figure out where in the world we were squatting at the time, and I’d go looking. I eventually stopped because it hurt too much.”
The door chimed and John left Dean alone looking at the pictures. His fingers traveled over the map to a place on the east coast and a picture of him and Sam and a dark haired kid with blue eyes at a playground. Sam was maybe seven and was missing two of his front teeth and they were both in thrift store jackets.
Dean pulled the picture down, leaning against the desk. He remembered the playground, and the kid who they had spent a week exploring the local woods with. A kid Dean remembered was named Eliot. He came out of the room and went out into the store where John was saying goodbye to an older man. He showed his father the picture.
“You brought Eliot with you.”
His father’s eyes sparkled. “I remembered that you hated that town so much. It was off season, and there weren’t many kids there. Sam wanted to do normal things. You wanted a friend. I was hunting a spirit that had a nasty habit of drowning people. It was the week between Christmas and New Years.”
“So you brought your other son to entertain us?”
“You boys had fun.” He smiled, taking the picture. “And Eliot talked about you two all the way home.” He ran a finger over the image, then handed it back to Dean. “It wasn’t long after that that I stopped travleing. But I always knew where you were, at least up until the year I was supposed to die.” He walked them back into the small room and pulled a book out of the desk drawer. He flipped it open to a page of newspaper clippings Dean recognized immediately.
“That wasn’t us,” he said quickly. “Damn fucking Leviathans.”
“I almost came hunting for you. Almost.”
“We got those two. But there are more. A lot more.” Dean reached for the book, flipping through the pages. There were notes on cases and clippings from newspapers. “That also wasn’t me.” Dean said pointing at the article from the incident in St. Louis. “Fucking shapeshifters.”
“Go ahead, look through it. I need to get out front.”
Dean picked it up, glancing at his father before nodding. “Yeah, okay.” It was a fair request, to read about his father’s life without them. Dean settled to the chair and turned back to the beginning of the journal. There was a picture there of his father and mother when they were young. The note said 1975, so it was after he and Sam had gone back in time to stop Anna. His father’s destiny was already changed...provided Sam was right about the whole vessel business.
The first entries were hard to read. His father’s observations were terse and the self hate over the deal was evident in every line. Dean skimmed through the pages until he found Elizabeth’s name for the first time. There was a sketch of a car and picture of a blond girl, with hair down to her waist and blue eyes that reminded him of Eliot.
“She makes me smile.” It was the only thing written on the page. He kept flipping, stopping on a page marked with his birth date.
Fire and acid pour over him and he can’t move, can’t scream. Laughter and the feeling of hands on his skin, pushing, poking, breaking through to play with his insides until he convulses with the combined pain. “Don’t run away yet, Sammy. We’re just getting started.”
Sam sat up in the gloom of the motel room, his skin clammy and his stomach sick. He sucked in air to fight the urge to throw up. “Dean?”
His brother wasn’t there though. He was alone.
Sam stood shakily, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. It was better than Dean wasn’t there. It gave him time to pull himself together. He stripped down and headed in to shower. The dreams were getting worse, more real, more visceral. He half expected to wake up with his chest cut open.
He turned the water on and stepped in, closing his eyes as the water flowed over him. Once the sweat and sick feeling washed away, he turned the hot water down, hoping the tepid water would cool him.
Sam rolled his head, cracking his neck before getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around himself. His phone was ringing as he emerged out of the bathroom, Bobby’s name showing on the caller ID. “Hey, Bobby.”
“Hey yourself. What’s the name of the town you two idjits are squatting in?”
“Fairfield, why?”
“I may have something on your mystery box. I’m a few hours away.”
“That might not be the best idea, Bobby. Hold up. We’ll meet you.”
“Why? What are you two into?”
“Nothing, just…” He sighed, not sure how exactly to tell Bobby what was going down.
“Well play time is over. Kiss whatever pretty thing you’re flirting with goodbye and get your damn heads back in the game.”
Bobby hung up before Sam could say anything else. Sam looked at his phone for a long minute before he dialed Dean’s number. “Hey, where are you?”
“Hardware store, with Dad. How you feeling?”
“Better. I think.” At least, he hoped if he was focused on something other than his problems he would be better. “We may have trouble. Bobby’s on his way. Be here in a few hours. Said he might have something.”
“Yeah, okay. We’ll handle it I guess. Meet me at the diner.”
“Yeah. I could eat.” Sam hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. He sat to pull his shoes on, grabbed his wallet from the nightstand and headed out, stopping when he opened the door to find Eliot standing on the other side. “Eliot. I thought you were leaving.”
Eliot shoved him into the room, throwing the door shut behind them. “So did I, until I ran into some familiar thugs when I stopped for gas.”
“Familiar?”
“Black eyes, bad attitude. Same two I ditched in Georgia. I don’t think they saw me, but they’re definitely looking for me. Or at least the box.”
“Great, because this whole thing hasn’t gotten complicated enough.”
“Where is the box?” Eliot asked, his eyes sweeping the room.
“Safe. Dean put it where no demon can find it.”
“You figure out what it is yet?”
Sam shrugged. “Not really. Other things have been pressing.” He gestured at the door. “I was about to go meet Dean at the diner.”
“Yeah, okay. I gotta call Nate.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as Sam opened the door, checking to make sure there was no one lurking about. “It’s me. I got delayed. No, I’ll be there, Nate. Just not tonight. Don’t do anything stupid.” He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket.
“What is it exactly that you do again?” Sam asked as they crossed the parking lot.
“It depends on the job. Mostly I get things out of sticky situations...one way or another.”
“And Nate is..?”
Eliot sort of shrugged. “I work with a team. He’s the team leader.”
“So, your boss”
“Something like that.” Eliot agreed, but it felt like there was more too it.
“Hey, I thought you were leaving.” Dean said as he approached from down the street.
“He ran into some demons on his way out of town.”
“Figured I should come let you know. Maybe stick around, lend a hand.”
“Hello boys.”
Eliot’s face transformed in rage as he whipped around, his fist flying before Sam had even turned to see the speaker. Not that he needed to see who it was. The voice was quite enough to tell him that Crowley had found them. Eliot’s fist landed a solid blow to Crowley’s startled face before Sam and Dean pulled him back.
“Now that wasn’t very nice.”
“Crowley.” Dean growled the name, making Eliot look at him.
“That’s Sterling.”
“You boys have something that belongs to me. I want it.” Crowley said, rubbing his jaw.
“We’re not giving you anything, you son of a bitch.” Dean responded.
“Now, now Squirrel, you haven’t even heard my offer.” Crowley smiled at them. “How’s the melon, Moose?”
“Shut it, and get lost.” Dean growled, his hand still on Eliot’s arm.
“I can help him shut up.” Eliot threatened, pulling away from Dean.
Crowley laughed. “And who’s this now? Pet?”
Sam grabbed at Eliot just as he would have launched himself at Crowley. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” Sam said. “He’s a demon.”
“Boys?” Sam turned as their father joined them, feeling a little like they were putting all of their secrets on display for Crowley to see.
“Oh, now this is interesting. Winchester Sr, I presume?” Crowley said, eyebrow raised. “Always wondered where you’d gotten off to.”
“Who are you?” John asked, obvious disdain in his voice.
“Me? Well, since your boys killed everyone ahead of me, and locked ol’ Lucifer back up in his cage, I’m the King of Hell.”
“Crowley.” Dean supplied. “We’re not giving you whatever it is you want.”
“Oh, no, I think you will. You don’t have your guardian angel to protect you anymore.” Crowley took a step closer. “So, here’s the deal. You have twenty four hours to hand it over, or I start getting angry. You know you won’t like me when I’m angry.”
They all stood there silent after Crowley had disappeared, at least until John cleared his throat. “One of you want to tell me what that was about?”
Dean blinked and nodded. “Like he said, we knocked off the demons above him, Azazel, Lilith….and with Lucifer out of the picture, he stepped up.”
“What is it he thinks you have?”
“The box.” Eliot responded, shrugging free of Sam’s hand. “He wants the box.”
“Which means that no matter what, we can’t let him get it.” Sam said.
“I think it’s time you show me this box.” John said, his face dark.
Dean shook his head. “Not here. I’ve got it locked down. And I’m not taking it out without protection. We need a place big enough to park the Impala in.”
“Is the old barn still standing?” Eliot asked.
John nodded. “Yeah, haven’t gotten around to tearing it down.”
“We’ll need some supplies.” Dean looked up at Sam. “We got enough of that spray paint?”
Sam nodded. “I don’t know. We probably need more.”
“Not we.” Dean countered. “Me and Dad, you’re not going to be there.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am.”
“Sam, I saw how it affected you when I opened it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You weren’t fine. It wasn’t just the way you reacted to it while it was open. You haven’t had a day that bad since Castiel first broke the wall.”
“I dealt with it. I’m better today.”
“Sam--”
“No. Dean. I’m going to be there.”
“I am too.” Eliot said, crossing his arms. “I’m the one that brought the damn thing to you.”
“Sam why don’t you and Eliot go to the store? Mary’s there running the register, she can get you spray paint. Eliot can show you where the barn is. Dean and I will go start setting up.” John said, stopping Dean’s next protest.
“Okay, we’ll meet you there.” Sam agreed, though he wasn’t convinced Dean wouldn’t try to start without them. He had to trust his father would keep him busy.
“I really don’t want Sam here.” Dean said as he shook the can of red spray paint, examining the elaborate devil’s trap he’d already painted.
“I think it’s his decision,” his father countered. “This is new.”
Dean shook his head and squatted to add some finishing touches. “Old, actually. One of the oldest we’ve ever found. But that isn’t even the best part.” He moved to the opposite side of the circle, adding a few more lines. “Okay, once that’s dry we can bring the car in.” His can was nearly empty. “When Sam gets here I’ll show you how to ward against angels.”
“Angels.” His father was shaking his head. “You know, I’ve read through the journal and I still don’t believe half of what you’ve done.”
“Hell, I’ve lived through it and I don’t believe half of it.” Dean replied.
“I wish I had been there.” His father’s voice was soft, but it cut into him all the same.
“Yeah, I wish you had been there too.” Dean responded. “You don’t know how many times I wished for that.”
They were quiet for a few minutes and Dean crossed to the Impala. “Okay, let me pull in.” He started the engine and eased the car in through the barn doors, stopping it roughly in the center of the devil’s trap.
He got out of the car and was surprised to be pulled into a hug. “I am proud of you,” his father said in his ear.
Dean patted his back and stepped back, blinking a little. He could hear Eliot’s truck, and what sounded like a smaller car. “Uh...I don’t think Sam and Eliot are alone.” He went back to the door, but Sam was already out of the truck and coming at them fast, a bag in his hands.
“Bobby.” Sam said as he shoved the bag at Dean.
Dean could see it was Bobby though, as the older man got out of the car he was driving, looking more than a little pissed off. “Hey, Bobby.”
“I been calling you.”
Dean nodded. “I had the ringer turned off.” He could feel his father approaching behind him. “Bobby…” But he didn’t know how to say it and he ended up just turning as his father appeared beside him.
Bobby’s mouth opened, his eyes skipping from Dean to John and back again. “What in the hell is going on here?”
“Bobby, it’s good to see you.” John said.
Bobby didn’t respond, just narrowed his eyes at Dean. “It’s him Bobby. We checked. No shifter or demon or Leviathan.”
“How?”
“We aren’t completely sure why, but when he made the deal to save my life, he wasn’t killed, he was sent back in time.” Dean said, sparing a glance at his father.
Bobby’s face was tight and drawn, the anger only racheting up. “You mean to say he’s been hiding here in Kentucky all this time?”
“It’s not that simple.” John said.
Bobby’s fist flew, slamming into John’s face and sending him scrambling backwards. Eliot jumped in, pulling Bobby back before he could swing again and Dean stepped between them.
“Bobby.” Dean shifted the bag and pressed a hand to Bobby’s chest.
“Does he have any fucking clue what you two have been through?”
“Yes. I do.” John replied, rubbing at his jaw. “And if you don’t think I’m sorry, you don’t know me very well.”
“Sorry ain’t good enough.” Bobby growled, shaking free of Eliot. “You put those boys through hell.”
“I thought it was the right thing to do at the time.” John said. “And I don’t think I’d change what I did if I could.”
“Your boys have been fighting your war, fighting heaven and hell, and now we got purgatory tossed in the mix and you’re what? Sitting in the dark with your thumb up your ass?”
“Bobby, it’s okay.” Dean said.
“Like hell it is.”
“I did what I had to.” John said. “It kept my boys alive.”
“Not to interrupt all of this tension with a little reminder, but aren’t we here for a reason?” Eliot asked, gesturing at Sam who had a can of spray paint out and was ignoring the four of them as he painted symbols on the barn walls.
Dean nodded, pulling a can out of the bag and shoving it at Bobby. “We want this place invisible.”
Bobby nodded, his eyes still on John, and took the can. “I’ll get this side.”
“Eliot, keep an eye on Sam. Dad, come around back, we’ll do that side.” Dean lead his father through the barn and out to the back side, shaking the remaining can of paint.
His father was quiet as Dean picked a spot and started painting. “He’ll come around.” Dean said once he had the first symbol drawn.
John shrugged and came to look at the symbol. “Last time he and I spoke we had a fight over you boys. He loves you. I can’t be angry about that.”
Dean squinted at him and shook his head.
“What?”
He moved to another spot and lifted the spray can. “Nothing. Just...you’ve changed.”
His father chuckled. “I suppose I have. To be honest, I think it took Eliot leaving for me to see what I was doing, how I pushed him away by trying too hard to keep him close. I did the same with Sam.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and exhaled slowly. “I was a pretty angry guy for a long time, Dean. Losing your mother the way I did really screwed me up, and I let it take you and your brother down with me.”
Dean wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. He finished the symbol and moved a little further down. “You know...after everything I’ve seen, I don’t think it’s all on you. I mean...I’ve gone back twice and I couldn’t change anything. Well, except maybe you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe nothing. The second time we got sent back it was to stop a rogue angel from killing Mom, only we weren’t doing such a bang up job. You...You let Michael take you to save us. We think maybe that altered how your deal went down.”
“You think?”
Dean finished the last symbol and turned to look at his father. “Yeah. Sam speculated that old Yellow Eyes couldn’t actually take you to hell once you’d been a vessel for an archangel. We think that the first time around, he actually did take you to hell, but after the whole time travel thing he had to improvise.”
“How do you know?”
Dean shrugged. “Don’t. It’s all just speculation, but sometimes that’s the best we’ve got. I’m done here.”
Sam and Eliot were standing by the car and Bobby was just coming in the other door. Dean nodded to his father to close the doors as Eliot and Sam did the same on the other side. “Okay, we’re all buttoned up.” Dean said, looking at Bobby. “So, before we go opening Pandora’s box, why don’t you tell me what you found?”
“A lot of nothing at first. There’s a lot of nasty things that eat hearts and rituals that use hearts, but I wasn’t finding anything about a heart in a box.” He pulled off his sweat stained cap to scratch at his head, then put it back on. “So I dug a little deeper. Found some ancient lore with a mention of an angel’s heart. That led me to an obscure reference to a battle between Michael and Lucifer back before the cage. Lucifer would not die, so his heart was cut out, releasing the light of his being, which was dragged below.”
“Are you saying that what is in that box is Lucifer’s heart?” Eliot asked. “Like, the devil?”
“It’s a possibility.” Bobby said. “Only one I got.”
“But why?” Dean asked. “And how does it still look like...an actual heart and not some shriveled up piece of shoe leather?”
“Beats me.” Bobby admitted. “Like I said, what I found was barely a reference.”
“What about the box itself?” John asked, crossing his arms. “Is there any writing on it?”
Dean sighed and went to the trunk of the car. He opened the trunk, then leaned in to trace the lines of the sigil that covered the lockbox before unlocking the mundane lock. He whispered the Latin code word and the lockbox opened.
His father whistled behind him. “That’s some security you’ve got there, Son.”
“Can’t be too careful these days.” Sam responded, shifting nervously beside him. Dean lifted the box up and out, closing the trunk and setting the box on it.
Bobby and John both leaned in from opposite sides, scowling at the box. “Enochian?”
Dean nodded. “Looks that way. Where is Cas when you need him?” He managed to keep his tone light, even though his stomach twisted as he remembered the last time he saw Castiel.
“Let me see it.” John said, tugging the box closer, squinting at it. “Uh….yeah...Enochian. I might be able to work on it, I’ve got some references back at the house.”
“Oh for fuck sake.” Eliot rolled his head, cracking his neck and took the box. “I figured you guys would know this stuff.”
“Oh, you think you can do better, Mr. Smarty Pants?” Dean asked.
Eliot huffed and looked away. “It says that whoever consumes the contents of the box will have the power god gave the angels, to see the hearts of men and rise to the heights of the heavens, to raise the dead and to lay low the wicked.”
Dean turned to look at him, as did the rest of them. He shrugged. “What?” He gestured at the box. “I told you I knew it was more your thing than mine.”
“You didn’t mention that you read Enochian.” Dean responded.
Eliot rolled his eyes. “It isn’t...exactly Enochian. It’s a derivative. Special forces used something similar for codes for a while.”
“Special forces?” John asked, his eyes narrowing in a look that Dean knew well. It meant John would be grilling Eliot about it later.
“I don’t talk about it.” Eliot countered, gesturing back at the box. “What does it mean?”
“It means that no matter what else, we can’t let Crowley get at it.” Sam said.
“Or anyone else.” Dean agreed. “We need to destroy it.”
“Don’t you think that if it could be destroyed, it would have been?” Bobby asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Dean took the box and put it on the ground, pulling out his gun and taking aim.
“Dean, wait.” Sam said, a hand on the gun. “Think about this. Let’s not make another stupid mistake.”
“No mistake Sam, I’m going to shoot it, salt and burn it, whatever it takes.”
“No, we need to know what we’re doing first.” Sam argued.
“I hate to keep agreeing with Sam here,” their father said. “But he’s right. Trying to destroy it and failing could make things worse.”
“Worse is Crowley getting his hands on this thing and getting all that power.” Dean argued.
“So we hide it here, behind all the sigils and crap you put up until we figure out the best way to destroy it.”
“He’s right.” Bobby agreed, stepping up to Dean’s side. “We need more to go on.”
Dean wanted to end it, but he knew they were right. “No, not here.” Dean put the box back into the lockbox in the trunk. “I want it where I know it’s safe. It stays with me.”
“So, what’s next?” Sam asked. Dean looked up at him, startled by how tired he suddenly looked. “And what about Crowley?”
“Fuck Crowley. We get back to the job, is what.” Dean said. “Bobby said something about a hunt in Jersey.”
John frowned at him. “Just like that?”
“What, you want us to stay and play house or something?” Dean asked with a snort.
“He could...come with.” Sam offered, though Dean wasn’t sure whether it was hope or fear in his voice. “I mean, what better way to catch up than jump back into the thick of it? And we really could use the help.”
Their father nodded slightly. “I think I’d like that.”
Dean wasn’t sure it was the best plan, and the look on Bobby’s face said he wasn’t all that sure either but he smiled as he shut the trunk. “Good. I say we get on the road.”
“You boys go on ahead.” Bobby said. “I have a stash of books that might help with this. I’ll stop and pick them up. Meet you there.”
“I guess I’ll get back to my team.” Eliot said. “But I’m only a phone call away.”
Dean took his outstretched hand and pulled him into a hug. “Us too.” Sam hugged him once Dean let him go and Eliot turned to their father.
“So…” John pulled him in to hug too. “Take care of yourself out there.”
“You too, old man.” Eliot said with a smirk. “I’ll swing by more often.”
“Yeah, we’re going to have a talk.” John said, clapping a hand to his shoulder.
“Whatever you say, Dad.” Eliot shook his head and headed for the barn doors.
“Wait, did he just say Dad?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah.” Dean contributed as he headed for the driver’s side door of the Impala, keys in his hand. “Apparently we have siblings.”
“More than one?”
“I have two daughters too.” John said, following Dean to the car. “Mary’s gonna be pissed that I’m leaving, so you boys best just drop me off home to pack up and come back in an hour or so.”
“We need a different car too.” Dean said. “Much as it pains me, Bobby wasn’t wrong about that.”
Sam climbed in beside him as their father got in the back seat. Dean pulled out, leaving Bobby standing in the center of the devil’s trap, staring after them with his mouth wide open.
“Dick Roman?” Eliot asked, sliding into the booth beside Hardison. “Are you serious?”
“He’s exactly the kind of guy we go after.” Nate said, his eyes sliding past Eliot to check in with Sophie at the bar.
“Don’t you think he’s a little out of our league?” Eliot asked, pushing his hair back. “I mean, he’s Dick Roman.”
“Which is why we aren’t going directly at him.” Hardison said, laying his tablet on the table in front of Eliot. “This is his second in command. He’s our target.”
Eliot squinted at the picture. Something about it didn’t sit right. “I don’t like it.”
“Don’t have to like it.” Nate said, watching Sophie leave the bar. “Keep an eye on Sophie. That’s your job for now. And put your damn earpiece in.”
Eliot huffed and stood, slipping the earpiece from his pocket and into his ear. “Better?” he asked as he stormed out. Sophie was nearly to the corner.
“Better. Now, we can’t come at this one fast and loose. It’s a long, slow con. Sophie’s on point. She’s establishing her cover. We’re just support.”
He almost wished he was back dealing with his father and the two men he now knew as his brothers...and that was pretty damn fucked up. His first encounter with the Winchesters had been more than a year before when they had come barreling through a pick up location, guns out, yelling at him to move.
What followed was...insanity and a fight he almost lost with a thing that had fucking fangs and tried to bite him...and when it was over, they were all pretty revved up and there had been booze before Eliot went back to his room alone, only to have Sam knock on his door a half hour later.
Eliot watched Sophie greet the doorman at an upscale apartment building. “Nate, she’s going into a building. Do I try to follow”
“Parker’s inside. You hang outside.”
“Got it.”
He bought a newspaper from a kid on the corner and found a spot where he could see the front door of the building without being too obvious, leaning against a lamppost and opening the paper.
“We’re working on a better solution for watching the apartment.” Nate said in his ear. “This is temporary.”
“It better be.” Eliot growled.
That first night with Sam had been intense. They never said a word, and the left the room a mess, the dresser was on its side, the night stand broken, the mattress torn. Eliot hadn’t been comfortable sitting for days. It had probably been the best night of sex he’d ever had with anyone, male or female.
So, when he’d happened across the boys again, it was only natural that he’d look forward to more. Of course, first he had to get past the fact that they were clearly insane, with their talk of werewolves and ghosts. He’d been about to write them off when the damn werewolf attacked him, and once again, they had saved his life.
Sam had seemed different then, softer somehow, almost wounded and he didn’t seem to remember the first night he and Eliot had spent together. Dean was the aggressive one that night, responded to Eliot’s less than subtle flirting by shoving him into a wall and kissing him hard enough to bruise lips.
Sam had stared until Eliot pushed past Dean to push Sam backward onto the bed, riding him down as he claimed his mouth. Torn clothes and bruises led to grunts and groans and by the time the first light of morning was fighting its way under the curtains on the window, Eliot had fucked and been fucked by both men pretty thoroughly.
He’d done his own research after that, discovered that all that crazy shit wasn’t as make believe as Eliot assumed.
If he was honest with himself, he’d called Dean about the box because what he really wanted was another night of amazing sex. Which he’d never get again, now that they knew they shared a father. Which...was completely insane. He could accept ghosts and werewolves and whatever the fuck that first thing was, but demons and time travel and angels was a whole other ball of crazy.
And his father? The idea that he was ever a hunter like Sam and Dean seemed far fetched. All his life, John Spencer had been small town guy, hardware store guy, stay home and learn the family business guy. Eliot had been stifled by it.
He made a note to have Hardison run John Winchester’s name when they got some free time. He had a feeling there was a lot more to his father than Eliot ever knew.
The new office in Portland was different, with the restaurant cover and all of the customization Hardison was putting in, but they were getting used to it. Eliot dropped the suit jacket he was forced to wear for his new job as building security on the chair and untied his tie. “Another quiet day. Nate’s on for the next few hours playing the assistant..”
The operation had moved when Sophie’s cover had been offered a job with one of Dick Roman’s companies. For a month they’d been working on getting her close enough to Roman to be able to work and they were no where near close.
“Parker’s getting food. You want to see what I found on that personal matter you asked me about?” Hardison asked, clicking his remote.
His father’s face lit up the temporary screens. “Meet John Winchester, former marine, husband, father. His hobbies allegedly include grave desecration, credit card fraud, assault and assault with a deadly weapon, illegal possession of a firearm, eluding law enforcement and impersonating law enforcement.” He clicked the remote and a picture of John with a young boy and a woman holding a baby popped up. “This is his wife Mary and his two boys, Sam, the baby, and Dean. Now, Mary died in a suspicious fire just a few months after this picture was taken. John was never charged, though he was a person of interest for a while. After that, John and his boys moved around a lot.”
Eliot crossed his arms as Hardison threw up arrest reports and financial statements. “He falls off the grid a couple of times, then reappears. His two boys grew up to be a lot like him. There are accusations against them that mirror his, plus some murder charges. Near as I can tell, all three of them are dead. Or at the very least living under new identities.”
“What does that mean, as near as you can tell?”
Hardison shifted uncomfortably. “John here died in a hospital after the car he was in danced with a semi truck. Dean reportedly died in St. Louis, but resurfaced elsewhere. The FBI caught them and reported that they died in a helicopter crash. Then there’s this...” He clicked again and there were pictures of Sam and Dean with guns, and headlines about mass killings. “According to police reports, the brothers were shot dead by the police, autopsied and cremated.”
Eliot nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Thanks? That’s it?” Hardison asked incredulously, clicking back to the picture of John Winchester. “You gonna tell me what it’s about?”
“No. It’s personal.”
“That’s what you said. You think they’re alive?”
“Hardison, drop it.” The door opened and Parker came in with a tray of food from the restaurant.
“Who’s he?”
Eliot snatched the remote out of Hardison’s hand and turned the screen off. “No one.”
“Oh, that’s funny. I saw a guy that looks just like him, just now. In the restaurant.”
Eliot frowned at her, and clicked the remote, bringing up the security cameras. Sure enough, there they sat, John, Dean and Sam, at a table near the window. Eliot dropped the remote and raced out through the kitchen, just as they were getting up.
“Eliot?” Sam looked confused, then surprised.
Eliot grabbed his arm and dragged him out the door onto the sidewalk. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his face drawn and pale, the circles under his eyes dark.
“Nice to see you too, Son.” John said with a laugh. “Could ask you the same question.”
“I’m working.” Eliot answered.
“So are we.” Dean responded. “Got a case. People dying weird deaths.”
Eliot frowned at him. “I hadn’t heard anything. But, I’ve been busy.”
“Right. Working.” John said, squinting at him.
“Yeah, one of my team is infiltrating a dirty company.” He shook his head. “Are you telling me there are monsters in this town?”
“Cursed objects, at the very least.” Dean said. “We just hunted down the last of them.”
“That mean you’re leaving town?”
They hesitated and Sam cleared his throat. “We aren’t sure it’s over just yet.” He rubbed his forehead and shook his head.
“Man, just go back to the hotel and get some sleep.” Dean said. “Dad and I got this.”
“I’m okay.” Sam argued. “And I won’t sleep anyway.”
“You look like shit.” Eliot said.
Sam’s phone rang and he stepped aside to answer it. “Seriously, he looks bad.” Eliot said to Dean. “Is he okay?”
Dean shook his head. “No, I don’t think he is. He’s not sleeping, hasn’t since Bobby….” Dean shook his head. “Bobby died. Sam’s just gotten worse since, hallucinating, not sleeping...and when he does sleep...” He glanced at their father, but before he could say more, Sam was back with them.
“That was Scott, he says he looked into a mirror and wants to rip his face off.”
“Sam, Dean and I got this.” John said.
“I’m coming with.” Sam said, already heading for the corner.
Eliot glanced at the restaurant, then Sam. He turned away. “Hardison, I have something I have to deal with. I’ll be back.” He pulled the earpiece out before Hardison could respond and tucked it into his pocket, jogging a little to catch up. “Where we going?”
John pointed down the street. “Second hand shop.”
“Why exactly?” Eliot asked.
“They were selling cursed objects after the owner’s mother passed away.” John explained.
“Why do I get the feeling that’s only part of the story?” Eliot asked as Sam and Dean reached the door.”
“Because you’re not as dumb as you look.” Dean responded, peeking in the store. “Okay, you and Dad, hang back. We’re not sure what’s going on yet.”
Sam opened the door and he and Dean went into the store. John stuck his foot in to keep it from closing completely so they could hear what was happening.
“Did she just say she was going to eat him?” Eliot asked. His father nodded. “I’m guessing that isn’t metaphoric.”
The talking disappeared under the sounds of fighting, and Eliot pulled his father out of the way, running straight into the store where Sam was grappling with a man and Dean was getting thrown by a woman who looked vaguely familiar. He grabbed at the woman first, jumping when her face changed and rows of teeth came at him. He punched her hard and rolled out of reach, crashing into a glass display case.
Eliot grabbed at the sword in the case as Sam stuffed the head of the guy he was fighting into a bucket. He swung the sword as the woman closed in on Dean, taking her head off. Dean scrambled to his feet and grabbed the head while black goo oozed out of the open neck.
“That….isn’t normal.” Eliot said, stepping clear of the spilling goo.
“You’d be surprised what you can get used to as normal.” Dean replied, shoving the head into a bag. “Fucking Leviathans.
Sam shoved the guy into a chair, his face smoking and bubbling. “One minute. That’s exactly how long you have to explain.”
“I am dying to know what that bitch tastes like.” He licked his lips, his eyes on the bag in Dean’s hand.
“Wait, let me get this straight. You want to eat your boss?” Dean said, tossing the bag to his father.
“You got a better way to make her stay dead?” the man asked, his eyes skimming over Eliot and John. “Who’re the day players?”
Sam snapped his fingers to pull the man’s attention back to him. “So, what? So now you're – you’re on our side or something?”
“Yeah. No. But if Joyce is alive, then I spend the rest of my life cleaning her messes. Or worse, I get eaten. Or bibbed. So, thanks... for chopping her head off for me. Taking her on solo – yikes. So, really, thanks for the assist there. So how 'bout that head?”
“Yeah, not gonna happen, Georgie.” Dean answered. Sam leveled the sword at the man’s throat and Dean crossed his arms, his face hard. “Now... what the hell is Dick Roman building in Wisconsin?”
Eliot felt his heart stop. “Did you say Dick Roman?” Eliot asked, his voice tight.
Dean turned to look at him. “Yeah, he’s one of these fuckers. Their leader. Why?”
Eliot shook his head, his fingers already pulling the earpiece out of his pocket. “Hardison, we need to get Sophie and Nate out. Now. Clean. Like they were never there. Do you understand me?”
“Eliot?” Dean was following him. “What are you talking about? Who are you talking to?”
Eliot held up a hand as he listened to Hardison telling him how hard they’d worked to establish this cover and Eliot growled. “Damnit Hardison, you listen to me and get them the fuck out. This is not a discussion.”
Dean was frowning at him. Eliot pulled the earpiece out. “My team...we take on corrupt business men, politicians, that kind of thing.”
“Don’t tell me you’re targeting Dick Roman.” Dean said.
“We’ve been working on getting our grifter inside the organization since before I left you in Kentucky.”
“Sam, clean up this mess. Dad, stick with Sam. I’m going to go with Eliot.”
Eliot set back toward the restaurant at a jog, Dean falling in beside him. He put the earpiece back in to hear Hardison cussing up a storm. “Nate is not going to like this.”
“Nate won’t like having his face eaten off even more, I’m guessing.” Eliot said as they entered the restaurant and took the stairs to the office.
“What?” Hardison turned to look at him, startled by the sight of Dean with him.
“You get Nate?”
Hardison held out the cell they’d used to establish part of Sophie’s cover. Eliot took it and held it to his ear. “Mr. Anderson, I’m afraid there’s been an accident. We need Ms. Chapman to come immediately.”
He could hear the strain and anger in Nate’s voice. “Are you certain, she is quite busy this week.”
“The sooner the better.” Eliot said. “I can send someone to get you, if you need me to.”
“Very well. I will inform Ms. Chapman.”
“I will have a car there in ten minutes.” Eliot hung up and threw the phone at Hardison. “As soon as I have them, you start wiping everything, you hear me? There can be no trace of any of us on this. Anywhere.” He slapped Dean’s shoulder and gestured toward the back. “I’ve got a car for this.”
He could feel Hardison staring after them, but just kept going, glad he’d pulled the non descript, black sedan out of storage. “We use it when we’re posing as government...IRS, FBI...looks like your average government issue, but I worked on her myself. I’m betting she could blow the doors off of your Impala.”
“We may have to test that theory.” Dean said as they got in.
Eliot brought the car to life and they pulled out, heading toward downtown. “According to my source, Roman’s got his hands in everything.” Dean offered as they squealed around a corner. “This real estate thing isn’t new, he’s buying up property all over the country.”
“World.” Eliot corrected. “I’ve got a hacker too. Any idea why these monsters want all this land?”
Dean shrugged. “I don’t have a clue.”
Eliot slowed them down as they approached the building, pulling up in front and putting it in park to get out and open the door for Sophie and Nate. He glanced at the building, eyes sliding over the security cameras before he shut the door and got back behind the wheel.
“Who’s this?” Sophie asked as they started moving.
“Dean Winchester.” Eliot responded. “Dean, Nate and Sophie.”
“You going to explain this?” Nate asked.
“I got new information. It isn’t safe for you in there.” Eliot answered, taking a sharp left and checking the rearview mirror for signs that they were being followed.
“What new information?” Nate asked.
“Dick Roman is not a man you can take down by embarrassing him or stealing his money.” Dean said, his voice dark. “In fact, he’s not really a man at all. He’s a monster.”
“Which is why we are going after him.” Nate argued.
“Trust me, Nate.” Eliot said. “This is too big for us.”
“You know I’m going to need a better explanation.” Nate said.
Eliot glanced at Dean who nodded. “Yeah okay. Hardison, you and Parker meet us at the warehouse on 5th.”
Dean was already on the phone with Sam. “Bring him, and all the stuff. Once we’re done here we’ll find a hole to dump it down. Yeah, gimme a sec.” Dean looked at him.
“33256 5th Street.” Eliot offered. “Have them come down the alley and pull in the side door.”
“You get that?” Dean asked. “Okay, see you then.” He closed the phone and looked up at Eliot. “They’re just finishing up. Said to give them a few minutes.”
Eliot nodded and took them down another street. “I think we’re clear.”
“Maybe one more circle.” Dean suggested.
The car was quiet then as Eliot drove them around Portland until both he and Dean were satisfied they weren't being followed. He turned them down a wide alley and stopped between two old buildings. The building was old, but the door and the security system on it were new. Eliot got out and pressed in the code as Dean slid across the seat to drive the car in.
Hardison and Parker were already there as Eliot followed the car in. The door closed and Nate and Sophie were already out of the car. Eliot held up both hands to forestall the questions he could see on Nate’s face. “A few more minutes. You’ll understand.”
“He’s strung pretty tight.” Dean said quietly, moving in close to Eliot.
“He’ll be okay.” Of course, Eliot was only speculating. He had no idea how any of them would react to actual monsters...or any of the other revelations about to take place. Dean’s phone rang and he nodded to Eliot.
He crossed to the door and opened it for the truck and the trailer it was hauling. Sam and their father got out of the truck, eyeing up the rest of the group. Eliot took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay, let’s start with introductions.” Hardison and Parker were staring, Nate and Sophie looked pissed. “Nate, Sophie, Hardison, Parker….this is my father, John, and my brothers Sam and Dean.”
There was a moment of silence, then all four of them started talking at once. Finally, Dean whistled loudly and cut them all off.
“They’re your family, Eliot?” Hardison asked, his voice squeaking. “You had me run background on your family?” He moved to Nate. “Those two are murderers. Supposed to be dead. All of them supposed to be dead.”
“We are not murderers.” Dean said, stepping forward, but careful to keep his hands clearly visible. “Those men were not us.”
“Sure looked like you.” Parker said.
“Okay, I’ll give you that. They did look like us. But they weren’t us.”
“Right. They were monsters.” Nate said, eyebrow raised, looking at Eliot.
“Okay, we’ll show you.” Eliot nodded to his father who went to the back of the trailer and opened it, pulling out the guy from the second hand shop, his hands and feet bound in heavy chains.
“George here is a Leviathan.” Sam said, moving in with what looked like a water gun. “You can tell one by the fact that they’re allergic to cleaning products.” He waved the gun and shot the guy in the face. Instantly his skin started to bubble. “And if you cut them, they bleed black goo.” He pulled a knife from his belt and cut into George’s arm.
Sophie turned away, her face in Nate’s shoulder, while Parker leaned in to see better.
“They can take on anyone’s likeness. For example, this man he currently looks like. George probably ate him and took over his identity.” Sam said.
“And...we’re just supposed to take your word for this?” Nate asked.
Sam moved the blade to George’s throat. “Care to show them?”
George’s features shimmered, fluctuated...then resolved into an exact replica of John. “Okay, enough.” Sam said and George changed back.
Nate was still staring, but Parker seemed to be absorbing it all. “So you’re saying that Dick Roman is one of these Leviathan things?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re saying.” Dean said. “We’re working on defeating them, but it is no fight for civilians.”
“I’m hungry.” George said, shifting in John’s hands. “I was promised a meal.”
“Yeah well, I lied.” Sam said, pulling a machete out of the truck and slicing George’s head off. Sophie screamed and Hardison jumped. Only Nate and Parker didn’t flinch. Sam pulled the head away, crossing back to the trailer. He shoved the head into the trailer and came back wiping his hands.
“Was that necessary?” Nate asked.
“It didn’t kill him.” Dean said. “But yes, it was necessary. If we don’t keep the head and body separated, they eventually come back together and come after us again. So far we haven’t found a way to kill them.”
“Except when they eat each other.” Sam added, making a face.
“Yeah, that.” Dean agreed. “But, since that isn’t an option, this is how we deal with it. Questions?”
“Where do they come from?” Parker asked, bending over to look at the headless body and the slowly spilling puddle of black goo.”
“Purgatory.” Sam said.
“As in...Purgatory?” Hardison asked. “The place unbaptized babies go?”
“Not so much babies.” Dean corrected. “Monsters. We kill them here, they go there.”
“I thought you said you can’t kill them.” Sophie said, rejoining the conversation finally.
“Leviathans, no. Other monsters? Yeah, them we can kill.”
“Other monsters?” Nate asked.
“Vampires, werewolves, ghouls.” John offered. “Yes, they’re all real. Yes, we hunt them and kill them.”
“And when they die here, they end up in Purgatory.” Dean finished. “Only, someone opened a gateway to Purgatory and let these asswipes out. Now, we have to find a way to send them all back where they came from.”
“What if you can’t?” Parker asked. “Send them back, I mean?”
“Then we keep chopping off heads and hiding them.” Dean responded. “So, now you know. Leave Dick Roman to us.”
Sam left his father and brothers talking to Nate and the others, withdrawing behind the truck. He was worrying them, and he knew it. Fact was, he was starting to worry himself. His head was a jumble of memory and hallucination, and there were moments he couldn’t tell them apart from reality...or if the hallucination was that he was here at all.
“How long has it been?” Eliot asked suddenly, appearing beside him. “Since you slept?”
Sam shook his head. “I got an hour or so this morning.”
“I got something that will make sure you sleep.”
Sam sighed. “It won’t help. I’ve tried everything. He won’t shut up.” He gestured at the hallucination as if Eliot could see him. “At least he stopped singing Highway to Hell.”
“I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in your head, Sam. But you need sleep.”
“Oh, I know I do. Trust me.”
“Then let me try to help you. I have a place not far from here.”
”He can’t help you, Sammy. He’s a hallucination. He isn’t real.” Lucifer was leaning in whispering in his ear.
“Go away.” Sam hissed at him, then looked up quick at Eliot. “Not you.”
”You know what you need to do Sam.”
“No.” Sam hissed at him, stepping away, closer to Eliot.
Eliot raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s it. I’m not taking no. Dean, I’m taking Sam someplace safe. Call me when you wrap this up.”
Eliot took his elbow and escorted Sam toward the door of the car he and Dean had arrived in, Lucifer trailing behind. Sam started laughing as the hallucination started singing again.
”You can’t ride in my little red wagon, front seat’s broken and the axle’s draggin’...”
Eliot held Sam’s door like they were on a date.
”You’re twisted, Sammy. He’s your brother.”
“Stop.” Sam said, squeezing his eyes shut as his mind filled with images of him and Eliot naked and sweating as they grappled and fucked. He grabbed at his head and tried to force himself to think about other things.
“I don’t understand what you’re going through.” Eliot said. “Dean told me a little bit, but…”
Sam forced himself to look up, to see Eliot and the car. “He wants me to believe that this is the hallucination, that I’m still down there...I can feel him...them...the torture.” He swallowed. “Like it’s real….it was real, maybe he’s right, maybe I’m still in the cage and this is all some elaborate psychological escape I create for myself.”
“You always dream up second families and fucked up realities to escape your fucked up reality?” Eliot asked, his voice warm.
“What, you don’t?” Sam asked, laughing a little.
The memories were shifting, from Eliot and Dean and the weekend they’d spent to memories of being ripped apart, forced into smaller and smaller boxes, flames and sulfur
“Fuck. Fuck.” His body was seizing up. Memory slammed through him, alternating between torment and pleasure, until he wasn’t sure there was any difference. He could hear Eliot calling his name, felt the car swerve and come to a stop, then there were hands on his skin.
“Hey, Sam. Come on.” Eliot pulled his face up and Sam blinked, trying to push the memory back. “Okay, I’m sorry.” At first Sam couldn’t figure out what he meant, then his fist slammed into Sam’s jaw and everything went dark.
“What the hell did you give him?” Dean asked, stalking the room.
“Relax, he’s fine.” Eliot answered, intercepting him before he could storm into the bedroom. “I’m monitoring him and he’s sleeping.”
“How long has he been out?”
“Since I popped him to stop his freak out yesterday. Almost 24 hours. I took the IV out about an hour ago. He should wake up soon.”
“Dad’s already headed to the next job.” Dean sat on the couch, running a hand over his head.
“He seems happier. You know, hunting.”
Dean smirked. “Yeah, he hasn’t lost a step either. He’s all gung ho. I almost can’t keep up.”
“Yeah, well, he’s had a thirty year vacation.”
“And I’ve been running for so long I don’t even remember….”
“Dean?”
Eliot turned as Dean stood and Sam squinted at them both sleepily, pulling a blanket around himself as if he was cold.
“Hey, Sam. How you feeling?”
Sam nodded. “Better, actually. A lot better. Little groggy.”
“That’s the drugs. It’ll wear off.” Eliot said.
“Dad?”
“He’s headed for Indiana. Caught a case. Figured he’d get the research started.”
Sam nodded. “If Eliot will give me my pants back, we can go.”
Eliot chuckled and grabbed the freshly cleaned jeans on the back of the chair and tossed them at Sam. “You want me to pack up some of the cocktail I gave you in case it gets that bad again?”
“Yeah, I haven’t slept that good in a long time.” Sam gestured back into the bedroom. “Gimme a minute.”
Eliot went to the small fridge and pulled out two vials, handing them to Dean. “Best done with an IV. Stick to the dosage on the labels. Do not deviate. He shouldn’t use it more than once a week.”
Dean nodded and pocketed the vials. “Got it.”
“You two got a plan?” Eliot asked.
“Yeah, figure out how to kill the bastards or send them back to purgatory. You?”
“Nate’s already got another client. We leave in the morning.”
Sam emerged from the bedroom. “So, back to normal?”
“As normal as it gets for us, I guess.” Dean said. “You ready?”
Sam nodded. “Eliot, thank you.”
“No need. Just watch each other’s backs. And the old man’s.”
“And you watch yours. Call us if you find anything that’s more our thing than yours.”
Eliot walked them to the door. “I will.”
He watched them go, crossing to the window to watch them get into a car. It felt wrong letting them drive away knowing that they were off to fight demons and monsters. It made what he did seem so trivial.
“You okay?” Dean asked as they drove away.
Sam inhaled and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. No nightmares, no Lucifer.”
“That’s good. Look, I haven’t said anything, but you should know Crowley hasn’t given up looking for the box. Dad thinks the heart belongs to Lucifer’s first human vessel.”
Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Dean...I need to tell you something.”
“I’m listening.” Dean prodded when he was quiet for too long.
“The...hallucination, Lucifer...he wants me to…” Sam cleared his throat. “He keeps telling me I need to...eat it.”
“What?” Dean asked, looking at him like he had grown another head. “You can’t.”
“I know that. I don’t….he says it’s the only way to keep it away from Crowley.”
“Sam, he’s not real.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know that. I’m just telling you because….hell, I don’t know. I figured you should know.”
“I’m glad you said something.” Dean said softly after the silence had grown again. “Look, I know it all seems a little...overwhelming right now. But we’re going to get through this. We always do.”
Sam wasn’t so sure, but he kept his doubts to himself. For the moment the drug-enforced sleep had him fairly clear headed, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the memories and delusions were back, before the sleep deprivation would drive him a little further down the path to insanity.
At least Dean would have their father now when it happened. And Eliot too, he supposed. Family. It had been just him and Dean for so long. Maybe, when it was over, Dean could have something like normal.
Maybe.
Title: The Family Business Part Two
Pairings/Characters: Sam, Dean, John, Bobby, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Parker, Hardison, OFCs
Word Count: 19307 (entire piece)
Rating: R
Summary: Sam and Dean get a call from someone they've worked, and played, with in the past, but when they meet up with Eliot Spencer in a small town in Kentucky everything they thought they knew changes.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is set mid season 7 for Supernatural, picking up somewhere around 7X07 and spanning to just before 7X17. For Leverage, it is between seasons 4 and 5. And yes, it leaves some things unresolved. I will likely come back to it eventually and chase out how the rest of the season would have changed. CANON CHARACTER DEATH, though it is entirely off screen.
Dean left Sam sleeping, after drugging his coffee to make sure he would and went out to the car, opening the trunk and shifting things aside so he could lift the false panel. They had installed the lock box a while back, secured with a combination of locks and sigils that kept even angels from seeing what was in it. He dialed Bobby’s number after opening it, running a finger over the symbol etched into the box Eliot had given him.
“Hey, it’s me.”
Bobby grumbled and groused about the number of books he’d been through and how hard it was without his old collection. “So, you’ve got nothing?” Dean asked, irritated himself.
“Don’t you get smart with me idjit. I didn’t say I got nothing. I said it is difficult to find anything when the core of my collection is gone. Got some old angel lore that might help. Be better if I could get a look at the box. When you getting here?”
“We’re still in Kentucky.” Dean said, looking up at the sound of footsteps. He raised a hand at his father who was crossing the street from the diner.
“Why? Catch a case?”
“Sort of. It’s a long story. Might be better in person.”
“You forget we got an army of shape-shifting face eaters to deal with?” Bobby asked.
“No, I haven’t forgotten Bobby. Something came up though.”
“Sam alright?”
Dean took a deep breath. “I drugged his coffee this morning because he didn’t sleep much again last night, if that’s any indication. He’ll be pissed at me when he wakes up, but at least he’ll have slept.” He felt the look his father was giving him without looking up. “Look, I have to go. Keep looking. Call me if you find anything.” He hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re drugging your brother?”
“You would have too. He hasn’t slept but for a few hours last night, which ended in a nightmare that nearly resulted in broken furniture. He’s going to hurt himself.”
John nodded toward the box. “What’s that?”
Dean took a deep breath. “That is the reason Sam and I are here. Eliot came across it working a job down south, got him chased by demons, so he figured me and Sam should have it.”
“Demons?” John put his hands in his pockets and looked Dean in the eye. “You open it?”
“Yes. And we aren’t doing it again. Not while Sam is anywhere nearby.”
“Why?”
“The way he reacted, like he took a knee to the stomach.” Dean had never seen anything like it...Sam’s reaction or the contents of the box. “We don’t know why, though Bobby’s got a feeling it’s got to do with Lucifer. He’s researching.”
“Bobby, huh?” John asked.
Dean snorted and closed the lock box, then the trunk. “Yeah. He’s researching.”
“You tell him about me?”
Dean shook his head. “No, I thought I’d actually let you live a while longer.”
“He’s still holding a grudge?”
“Let’s just say he has a few choice opinions about you and leave it at that.”
“Okay. What about you?”
Dean frowned. “Me?”
“You and Sam.”
“What about us?”
“You’ve been through so much. You must have a some grudges of your own.”
“I’d be lying if I said we both didn’t have issues with the way things were, but we don’t have time for second guessing and pointing fingers. Too much to deal with now.”
“Morning John.”
His father waved to the woman walking her dog past the motel. “I’m late. Walk with me?”
Dean glanced at the door of the motel, then nodded. “Sure. Where are we going?”
“I have to open the store.”
Dean snorted and fell into step beside his father. “I still can’t imagine you here, all these years, working a hardware store.”
His father chuckled. “Trust me, for the longest time, neither could I.”
They walked in silence for a while, turning onto the main street of town. John unlocked the door to the store and flicked on the lights. It was like any other over-crowded, small town hardware store Dean had ever seen, though it was more orderly than many. His father moved through an aisle and toward the back, and Dean followed slowly.
“Come on back here, I want you to see something.” John called from behind the register.
Dean came around the counter and followed John into a back room, where he pulled out his keys again and opened what Dean thought was a closet door, but turned out to be the door into a small room. A devil’s trap was painted on the floor and there was a desk crammed into one corner. The opposite wall was covered with a huge map of the US and pictures and news clippings.
At first he just took it as a wall of hunts his father couldn’t go on, but as he stared he realized that it was more than that. There were pictures of Dean and Sam and their father that he had never seen before, each pinned near some town. “You took these?”
John nodded. “I used to take vacations a couple times a year. I’d figure out where in the world we were squatting at the time, and I’d go looking. I eventually stopped because it hurt too much.”
The door chimed and John left Dean alone looking at the pictures. His fingers traveled over the map to a place on the east coast and a picture of him and Sam and a dark haired kid with blue eyes at a playground. Sam was maybe seven and was missing two of his front teeth and they were both in thrift store jackets.
Dean pulled the picture down, leaning against the desk. He remembered the playground, and the kid who they had spent a week exploring the local woods with. A kid Dean remembered was named Eliot. He came out of the room and went out into the store where John was saying goodbye to an older man. He showed his father the picture.
“You brought Eliot with you.”
His father’s eyes sparkled. “I remembered that you hated that town so much. It was off season, and there weren’t many kids there. Sam wanted to do normal things. You wanted a friend. I was hunting a spirit that had a nasty habit of drowning people. It was the week between Christmas and New Years.”
“So you brought your other son to entertain us?”
“You boys had fun.” He smiled, taking the picture. “And Eliot talked about you two all the way home.” He ran a finger over the image, then handed it back to Dean. “It wasn’t long after that that I stopped travleing. But I always knew where you were, at least up until the year I was supposed to die.” He walked them back into the small room and pulled a book out of the desk drawer. He flipped it open to a page of newspaper clippings Dean recognized immediately.
“That wasn’t us,” he said quickly. “Damn fucking Leviathans.”
“I almost came hunting for you. Almost.”
“We got those two. But there are more. A lot more.” Dean reached for the book, flipping through the pages. There were notes on cases and clippings from newspapers. “That also wasn’t me.” Dean said pointing at the article from the incident in St. Louis. “Fucking shapeshifters.”
“Go ahead, look through it. I need to get out front.”
Dean picked it up, glancing at his father before nodding. “Yeah, okay.” It was a fair request, to read about his father’s life without them. Dean settled to the chair and turned back to the beginning of the journal. There was a picture there of his father and mother when they were young. The note said 1975, so it was after he and Sam had gone back in time to stop Anna. His father’s destiny was already changed...provided Sam was right about the whole vessel business.
The first entries were hard to read. His father’s observations were terse and the self hate over the deal was evident in every line. Dean skimmed through the pages until he found Elizabeth’s name for the first time. There was a sketch of a car and picture of a blond girl, with hair down to her waist and blue eyes that reminded him of Eliot.
“She makes me smile.” It was the only thing written on the page. He kept flipping, stopping on a page marked with his birth date.
Right now, in a hospital in Lawrence, I’m sitting with Mary, holding our son and I am so incredibly happy. I have no idea of the twists that will rip my family away from me. Lizzy is sleeping, our child growing inside of her. It’s a chance to have what I never did. But I can’t let go of Mary and Dean and Sam. I never will. Deal or not.
Fire and acid pour over him and he can’t move, can’t scream. Laughter and the feeling of hands on his skin, pushing, poking, breaking through to play with his insides until he convulses with the combined pain. “Don’t run away yet, Sammy. We’re just getting started.”
Sam sat up in the gloom of the motel room, his skin clammy and his stomach sick. He sucked in air to fight the urge to throw up. “Dean?”
His brother wasn’t there though. He was alone.
Sam stood shakily, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. It was better than Dean wasn’t there. It gave him time to pull himself together. He stripped down and headed in to shower. The dreams were getting worse, more real, more visceral. He half expected to wake up with his chest cut open.
He turned the water on and stepped in, closing his eyes as the water flowed over him. Once the sweat and sick feeling washed away, he turned the hot water down, hoping the tepid water would cool him.
Sam rolled his head, cracking his neck before getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around himself. His phone was ringing as he emerged out of the bathroom, Bobby’s name showing on the caller ID. “Hey, Bobby.”
“Hey yourself. What’s the name of the town you two idjits are squatting in?”
“Fairfield, why?”
“I may have something on your mystery box. I’m a few hours away.”
“That might not be the best idea, Bobby. Hold up. We’ll meet you.”
“Why? What are you two into?”
“Nothing, just…” He sighed, not sure how exactly to tell Bobby what was going down.
“Well play time is over. Kiss whatever pretty thing you’re flirting with goodbye and get your damn heads back in the game.”
Bobby hung up before Sam could say anything else. Sam looked at his phone for a long minute before he dialed Dean’s number. “Hey, where are you?”
“Hardware store, with Dad. How you feeling?”
“Better. I think.” At least, he hoped if he was focused on something other than his problems he would be better. “We may have trouble. Bobby’s on his way. Be here in a few hours. Said he might have something.”
“Yeah, okay. We’ll handle it I guess. Meet me at the diner.”
“Yeah. I could eat.” Sam hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. He sat to pull his shoes on, grabbed his wallet from the nightstand and headed out, stopping when he opened the door to find Eliot standing on the other side. “Eliot. I thought you were leaving.”
Eliot shoved him into the room, throwing the door shut behind them. “So did I, until I ran into some familiar thugs when I stopped for gas.”
“Familiar?”
“Black eyes, bad attitude. Same two I ditched in Georgia. I don’t think they saw me, but they’re definitely looking for me. Or at least the box.”
“Great, because this whole thing hasn’t gotten complicated enough.”
“Where is the box?” Eliot asked, his eyes sweeping the room.
“Safe. Dean put it where no demon can find it.”
“You figure out what it is yet?”
Sam shrugged. “Not really. Other things have been pressing.” He gestured at the door. “I was about to go meet Dean at the diner.”
“Yeah, okay. I gotta call Nate.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as Sam opened the door, checking to make sure there was no one lurking about. “It’s me. I got delayed. No, I’ll be there, Nate. Just not tonight. Don’t do anything stupid.” He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket.
“What is it exactly that you do again?” Sam asked as they crossed the parking lot.
“It depends on the job. Mostly I get things out of sticky situations...one way or another.”
“And Nate is..?”
Eliot sort of shrugged. “I work with a team. He’s the team leader.”
“So, your boss”
“Something like that.” Eliot agreed, but it felt like there was more too it.
“Hey, I thought you were leaving.” Dean said as he approached from down the street.
“He ran into some demons on his way out of town.”
“Figured I should come let you know. Maybe stick around, lend a hand.”
“Hello boys.”
Eliot’s face transformed in rage as he whipped around, his fist flying before Sam had even turned to see the speaker. Not that he needed to see who it was. The voice was quite enough to tell him that Crowley had found them. Eliot’s fist landed a solid blow to Crowley’s startled face before Sam and Dean pulled him back.
“Now that wasn’t very nice.”
“Crowley.” Dean growled the name, making Eliot look at him.
“That’s Sterling.”
“You boys have something that belongs to me. I want it.” Crowley said, rubbing his jaw.
“We’re not giving you anything, you son of a bitch.” Dean responded.
“Now, now Squirrel, you haven’t even heard my offer.” Crowley smiled at them. “How’s the melon, Moose?”
“Shut it, and get lost.” Dean growled, his hand still on Eliot’s arm.
“I can help him shut up.” Eliot threatened, pulling away from Dean.
Crowley laughed. “And who’s this now? Pet?”
Sam grabbed at Eliot just as he would have launched himself at Crowley. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” Sam said. “He’s a demon.”
“Boys?” Sam turned as their father joined them, feeling a little like they were putting all of their secrets on display for Crowley to see.
“Oh, now this is interesting. Winchester Sr, I presume?” Crowley said, eyebrow raised. “Always wondered where you’d gotten off to.”
“Who are you?” John asked, obvious disdain in his voice.
“Me? Well, since your boys killed everyone ahead of me, and locked ol’ Lucifer back up in his cage, I’m the King of Hell.”
“Crowley.” Dean supplied. “We’re not giving you whatever it is you want.”
“Oh, no, I think you will. You don’t have your guardian angel to protect you anymore.” Crowley took a step closer. “So, here’s the deal. You have twenty four hours to hand it over, or I start getting angry. You know you won’t like me when I’m angry.”
They all stood there silent after Crowley had disappeared, at least until John cleared his throat. “One of you want to tell me what that was about?”
Dean blinked and nodded. “Like he said, we knocked off the demons above him, Azazel, Lilith….and with Lucifer out of the picture, he stepped up.”
“What is it he thinks you have?”
“The box.” Eliot responded, shrugging free of Sam’s hand. “He wants the box.”
“Which means that no matter what, we can’t let him get it.” Sam said.
“I think it’s time you show me this box.” John said, his face dark.
Dean shook his head. “Not here. I’ve got it locked down. And I’m not taking it out without protection. We need a place big enough to park the Impala in.”
“Is the old barn still standing?” Eliot asked.
John nodded. “Yeah, haven’t gotten around to tearing it down.”
“We’ll need some supplies.” Dean looked up at Sam. “We got enough of that spray paint?”
Sam nodded. “I don’t know. We probably need more.”
“Not we.” Dean countered. “Me and Dad, you’re not going to be there.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am.”
“Sam, I saw how it affected you when I opened it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You weren’t fine. It wasn’t just the way you reacted to it while it was open. You haven’t had a day that bad since Castiel first broke the wall.”
“I dealt with it. I’m better today.”
“Sam--”
“No. Dean. I’m going to be there.”
“I am too.” Eliot said, crossing his arms. “I’m the one that brought the damn thing to you.”
“Sam why don’t you and Eliot go to the store? Mary’s there running the register, she can get you spray paint. Eliot can show you where the barn is. Dean and I will go start setting up.” John said, stopping Dean’s next protest.
“Okay, we’ll meet you there.” Sam agreed, though he wasn’t convinced Dean wouldn’t try to start without them. He had to trust his father would keep him busy.
“I really don’t want Sam here.” Dean said as he shook the can of red spray paint, examining the elaborate devil’s trap he’d already painted.
“I think it’s his decision,” his father countered. “This is new.”
Dean shook his head and squatted to add some finishing touches. “Old, actually. One of the oldest we’ve ever found. But that isn’t even the best part.” He moved to the opposite side of the circle, adding a few more lines. “Okay, once that’s dry we can bring the car in.” His can was nearly empty. “When Sam gets here I’ll show you how to ward against angels.”
“Angels.” His father was shaking his head. “You know, I’ve read through the journal and I still don’t believe half of what you’ve done.”
“Hell, I’ve lived through it and I don’t believe half of it.” Dean replied.
“I wish I had been there.” His father’s voice was soft, but it cut into him all the same.
“Yeah, I wish you had been there too.” Dean responded. “You don’t know how many times I wished for that.”
They were quiet for a few minutes and Dean crossed to the Impala. “Okay, let me pull in.” He started the engine and eased the car in through the barn doors, stopping it roughly in the center of the devil’s trap.
He got out of the car and was surprised to be pulled into a hug. “I am proud of you,” his father said in his ear.
Dean patted his back and stepped back, blinking a little. He could hear Eliot’s truck, and what sounded like a smaller car. “Uh...I don’t think Sam and Eliot are alone.” He went back to the door, but Sam was already out of the truck and coming at them fast, a bag in his hands.
“Bobby.” Sam said as he shoved the bag at Dean.
Dean could see it was Bobby though, as the older man got out of the car he was driving, looking more than a little pissed off. “Hey, Bobby.”
“I been calling you.”
Dean nodded. “I had the ringer turned off.” He could feel his father approaching behind him. “Bobby…” But he didn’t know how to say it and he ended up just turning as his father appeared beside him.
Bobby’s mouth opened, his eyes skipping from Dean to John and back again. “What in the hell is going on here?”
“Bobby, it’s good to see you.” John said.
Bobby didn’t respond, just narrowed his eyes at Dean. “It’s him Bobby. We checked. No shifter or demon or Leviathan.”
“How?”
“We aren’t completely sure why, but when he made the deal to save my life, he wasn’t killed, he was sent back in time.” Dean said, sparing a glance at his father.
Bobby’s face was tight and drawn, the anger only racheting up. “You mean to say he’s been hiding here in Kentucky all this time?”
“It’s not that simple.” John said.
Bobby’s fist flew, slamming into John’s face and sending him scrambling backwards. Eliot jumped in, pulling Bobby back before he could swing again and Dean stepped between them.
“Bobby.” Dean shifted the bag and pressed a hand to Bobby’s chest.
“Does he have any fucking clue what you two have been through?”
“Yes. I do.” John replied, rubbing at his jaw. “And if you don’t think I’m sorry, you don’t know me very well.”
“Sorry ain’t good enough.” Bobby growled, shaking free of Eliot. “You put those boys through hell.”
“I thought it was the right thing to do at the time.” John said. “And I don’t think I’d change what I did if I could.”
“Your boys have been fighting your war, fighting heaven and hell, and now we got purgatory tossed in the mix and you’re what? Sitting in the dark with your thumb up your ass?”
“Bobby, it’s okay.” Dean said.
“Like hell it is.”
“I did what I had to.” John said. “It kept my boys alive.”
“Not to interrupt all of this tension with a little reminder, but aren’t we here for a reason?” Eliot asked, gesturing at Sam who had a can of spray paint out and was ignoring the four of them as he painted symbols on the barn walls.
Dean nodded, pulling a can out of the bag and shoving it at Bobby. “We want this place invisible.”
Bobby nodded, his eyes still on John, and took the can. “I’ll get this side.”
“Eliot, keep an eye on Sam. Dad, come around back, we’ll do that side.” Dean lead his father through the barn and out to the back side, shaking the remaining can of paint.
His father was quiet as Dean picked a spot and started painting. “He’ll come around.” Dean said once he had the first symbol drawn.
John shrugged and came to look at the symbol. “Last time he and I spoke we had a fight over you boys. He loves you. I can’t be angry about that.”
Dean squinted at him and shook his head.
“What?”
He moved to another spot and lifted the spray can. “Nothing. Just...you’ve changed.”
His father chuckled. “I suppose I have. To be honest, I think it took Eliot leaving for me to see what I was doing, how I pushed him away by trying too hard to keep him close. I did the same with Sam.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and exhaled slowly. “I was a pretty angry guy for a long time, Dean. Losing your mother the way I did really screwed me up, and I let it take you and your brother down with me.”
Dean wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. He finished the symbol and moved a little further down. “You know...after everything I’ve seen, I don’t think it’s all on you. I mean...I’ve gone back twice and I couldn’t change anything. Well, except maybe you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe nothing. The second time we got sent back it was to stop a rogue angel from killing Mom, only we weren’t doing such a bang up job. You...You let Michael take you to save us. We think maybe that altered how your deal went down.”
“You think?”
Dean finished the last symbol and turned to look at his father. “Yeah. Sam speculated that old Yellow Eyes couldn’t actually take you to hell once you’d been a vessel for an archangel. We think that the first time around, he actually did take you to hell, but after the whole time travel thing he had to improvise.”
“How do you know?”
Dean shrugged. “Don’t. It’s all just speculation, but sometimes that’s the best we’ve got. I’m done here.”
Sam and Eliot were standing by the car and Bobby was just coming in the other door. Dean nodded to his father to close the doors as Eliot and Sam did the same on the other side. “Okay, we’re all buttoned up.” Dean said, looking at Bobby. “So, before we go opening Pandora’s box, why don’t you tell me what you found?”
“A lot of nothing at first. There’s a lot of nasty things that eat hearts and rituals that use hearts, but I wasn’t finding anything about a heart in a box.” He pulled off his sweat stained cap to scratch at his head, then put it back on. “So I dug a little deeper. Found some ancient lore with a mention of an angel’s heart. That led me to an obscure reference to a battle between Michael and Lucifer back before the cage. Lucifer would not die, so his heart was cut out, releasing the light of his being, which was dragged below.”
“Are you saying that what is in that box is Lucifer’s heart?” Eliot asked. “Like, the devil?”
“It’s a possibility.” Bobby said. “Only one I got.”
“But why?” Dean asked. “And how does it still look like...an actual heart and not some shriveled up piece of shoe leather?”
“Beats me.” Bobby admitted. “Like I said, what I found was barely a reference.”
“What about the box itself?” John asked, crossing his arms. “Is there any writing on it?”
Dean sighed and went to the trunk of the car. He opened the trunk, then leaned in to trace the lines of the sigil that covered the lockbox before unlocking the mundane lock. He whispered the Latin code word and the lockbox opened.
His father whistled behind him. “That’s some security you’ve got there, Son.”
“Can’t be too careful these days.” Sam responded, shifting nervously beside him. Dean lifted the box up and out, closing the trunk and setting the box on it.
Bobby and John both leaned in from opposite sides, scowling at the box. “Enochian?”
Dean nodded. “Looks that way. Where is Cas when you need him?” He managed to keep his tone light, even though his stomach twisted as he remembered the last time he saw Castiel.
“Let me see it.” John said, tugging the box closer, squinting at it. “Uh….yeah...Enochian. I might be able to work on it, I’ve got some references back at the house.”
“Oh for fuck sake.” Eliot rolled his head, cracking his neck and took the box. “I figured you guys would know this stuff.”
“Oh, you think you can do better, Mr. Smarty Pants?” Dean asked.
Eliot huffed and looked away. “It says that whoever consumes the contents of the box will have the power god gave the angels, to see the hearts of men and rise to the heights of the heavens, to raise the dead and to lay low the wicked.”
Dean turned to look at him, as did the rest of them. He shrugged. “What?” He gestured at the box. “I told you I knew it was more your thing than mine.”
“You didn’t mention that you read Enochian.” Dean responded.
Eliot rolled his eyes. “It isn’t...exactly Enochian. It’s a derivative. Special forces used something similar for codes for a while.”
“Special forces?” John asked, his eyes narrowing in a look that Dean knew well. It meant John would be grilling Eliot about it later.
“I don’t talk about it.” Eliot countered, gesturing back at the box. “What does it mean?”
“It means that no matter what else, we can’t let Crowley get at it.” Sam said.
“Or anyone else.” Dean agreed. “We need to destroy it.”
“Don’t you think that if it could be destroyed, it would have been?” Bobby asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Dean took the box and put it on the ground, pulling out his gun and taking aim.
“Dean, wait.” Sam said, a hand on the gun. “Think about this. Let’s not make another stupid mistake.”
“No mistake Sam, I’m going to shoot it, salt and burn it, whatever it takes.”
“No, we need to know what we’re doing first.” Sam argued.
“I hate to keep agreeing with Sam here,” their father said. “But he’s right. Trying to destroy it and failing could make things worse.”
“Worse is Crowley getting his hands on this thing and getting all that power.” Dean argued.
“So we hide it here, behind all the sigils and crap you put up until we figure out the best way to destroy it.”
“He’s right.” Bobby agreed, stepping up to Dean’s side. “We need more to go on.”
Dean wanted to end it, but he knew they were right. “No, not here.” Dean put the box back into the lockbox in the trunk. “I want it where I know it’s safe. It stays with me.”
“So, what’s next?” Sam asked. Dean looked up at him, startled by how tired he suddenly looked. “And what about Crowley?”
“Fuck Crowley. We get back to the job, is what.” Dean said. “Bobby said something about a hunt in Jersey.”
John frowned at him. “Just like that?”
“What, you want us to stay and play house or something?” Dean asked with a snort.
“He could...come with.” Sam offered, though Dean wasn’t sure whether it was hope or fear in his voice. “I mean, what better way to catch up than jump back into the thick of it? And we really could use the help.”
Their father nodded slightly. “I think I’d like that.”
Dean wasn’t sure it was the best plan, and the look on Bobby’s face said he wasn’t all that sure either but he smiled as he shut the trunk. “Good. I say we get on the road.”
“You boys go on ahead.” Bobby said. “I have a stash of books that might help with this. I’ll stop and pick them up. Meet you there.”
“I guess I’ll get back to my team.” Eliot said. “But I’m only a phone call away.”
Dean took his outstretched hand and pulled him into a hug. “Us too.” Sam hugged him once Dean let him go and Eliot turned to their father.
“So…” John pulled him in to hug too. “Take care of yourself out there.”
“You too, old man.” Eliot said with a smirk. “I’ll swing by more often.”
“Yeah, we’re going to have a talk.” John said, clapping a hand to his shoulder.
“Whatever you say, Dad.” Eliot shook his head and headed for the barn doors.
“Wait, did he just say Dad?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah.” Dean contributed as he headed for the driver’s side door of the Impala, keys in his hand. “Apparently we have siblings.”
“More than one?”
“I have two daughters too.” John said, following Dean to the car. “Mary’s gonna be pissed that I’m leaving, so you boys best just drop me off home to pack up and come back in an hour or so.”
“We need a different car too.” Dean said. “Much as it pains me, Bobby wasn’t wrong about that.”
Sam climbed in beside him as their father got in the back seat. Dean pulled out, leaving Bobby standing in the center of the devil’s trap, staring after them with his mouth wide open.
“Dick Roman?” Eliot asked, sliding into the booth beside Hardison. “Are you serious?”
“He’s exactly the kind of guy we go after.” Nate said, his eyes sliding past Eliot to check in with Sophie at the bar.
“Don’t you think he’s a little out of our league?” Eliot asked, pushing his hair back. “I mean, he’s Dick Roman.”
“Which is why we aren’t going directly at him.” Hardison said, laying his tablet on the table in front of Eliot. “This is his second in command. He’s our target.”
Eliot squinted at the picture. Something about it didn’t sit right. “I don’t like it.”
“Don’t have to like it.” Nate said, watching Sophie leave the bar. “Keep an eye on Sophie. That’s your job for now. And put your damn earpiece in.”
Eliot huffed and stood, slipping the earpiece from his pocket and into his ear. “Better?” he asked as he stormed out. Sophie was nearly to the corner.
“Better. Now, we can’t come at this one fast and loose. It’s a long, slow con. Sophie’s on point. She’s establishing her cover. We’re just support.”
He almost wished he was back dealing with his father and the two men he now knew as his brothers...and that was pretty damn fucked up. His first encounter with the Winchesters had been more than a year before when they had come barreling through a pick up location, guns out, yelling at him to move.
What followed was...insanity and a fight he almost lost with a thing that had fucking fangs and tried to bite him...and when it was over, they were all pretty revved up and there had been booze before Eliot went back to his room alone, only to have Sam knock on his door a half hour later.
Eliot watched Sophie greet the doorman at an upscale apartment building. “Nate, she’s going into a building. Do I try to follow”
“Parker’s inside. You hang outside.”
“Got it.”
He bought a newspaper from a kid on the corner and found a spot where he could see the front door of the building without being too obvious, leaning against a lamppost and opening the paper.
“We’re working on a better solution for watching the apartment.” Nate said in his ear. “This is temporary.”
“It better be.” Eliot growled.
That first night with Sam had been intense. They never said a word, and the left the room a mess, the dresser was on its side, the night stand broken, the mattress torn. Eliot hadn’t been comfortable sitting for days. It had probably been the best night of sex he’d ever had with anyone, male or female.
So, when he’d happened across the boys again, it was only natural that he’d look forward to more. Of course, first he had to get past the fact that they were clearly insane, with their talk of werewolves and ghosts. He’d been about to write them off when the damn werewolf attacked him, and once again, they had saved his life.
Sam had seemed different then, softer somehow, almost wounded and he didn’t seem to remember the first night he and Eliot had spent together. Dean was the aggressive one that night, responded to Eliot’s less than subtle flirting by shoving him into a wall and kissing him hard enough to bruise lips.
Sam had stared until Eliot pushed past Dean to push Sam backward onto the bed, riding him down as he claimed his mouth. Torn clothes and bruises led to grunts and groans and by the time the first light of morning was fighting its way under the curtains on the window, Eliot had fucked and been fucked by both men pretty thoroughly.
He’d done his own research after that, discovered that all that crazy shit wasn’t as make believe as Eliot assumed.
If he was honest with himself, he’d called Dean about the box because what he really wanted was another night of amazing sex. Which he’d never get again, now that they knew they shared a father. Which...was completely insane. He could accept ghosts and werewolves and whatever the fuck that first thing was, but demons and time travel and angels was a whole other ball of crazy.
And his father? The idea that he was ever a hunter like Sam and Dean seemed far fetched. All his life, John Spencer had been small town guy, hardware store guy, stay home and learn the family business guy. Eliot had been stifled by it.
He made a note to have Hardison run John Winchester’s name when they got some free time. He had a feeling there was a lot more to his father than Eliot ever knew.
The new office in Portland was different, with the restaurant cover and all of the customization Hardison was putting in, but they were getting used to it. Eliot dropped the suit jacket he was forced to wear for his new job as building security on the chair and untied his tie. “Another quiet day. Nate’s on for the next few hours playing the assistant..”
The operation had moved when Sophie’s cover had been offered a job with one of Dick Roman’s companies. For a month they’d been working on getting her close enough to Roman to be able to work and they were no where near close.
“Parker’s getting food. You want to see what I found on that personal matter you asked me about?” Hardison asked, clicking his remote.
His father’s face lit up the temporary screens. “Meet John Winchester, former marine, husband, father. His hobbies allegedly include grave desecration, credit card fraud, assault and assault with a deadly weapon, illegal possession of a firearm, eluding law enforcement and impersonating law enforcement.” He clicked the remote and a picture of John with a young boy and a woman holding a baby popped up. “This is his wife Mary and his two boys, Sam, the baby, and Dean. Now, Mary died in a suspicious fire just a few months after this picture was taken. John was never charged, though he was a person of interest for a while. After that, John and his boys moved around a lot.”
Eliot crossed his arms as Hardison threw up arrest reports and financial statements. “He falls off the grid a couple of times, then reappears. His two boys grew up to be a lot like him. There are accusations against them that mirror his, plus some murder charges. Near as I can tell, all three of them are dead. Or at the very least living under new identities.”
“What does that mean, as near as you can tell?”
Hardison shifted uncomfortably. “John here died in a hospital after the car he was in danced with a semi truck. Dean reportedly died in St. Louis, but resurfaced elsewhere. The FBI caught them and reported that they died in a helicopter crash. Then there’s this...” He clicked again and there were pictures of Sam and Dean with guns, and headlines about mass killings. “According to police reports, the brothers were shot dead by the police, autopsied and cremated.”
Eliot nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Thanks? That’s it?” Hardison asked incredulously, clicking back to the picture of John Winchester. “You gonna tell me what it’s about?”
“No. It’s personal.”
“That’s what you said. You think they’re alive?”
“Hardison, drop it.” The door opened and Parker came in with a tray of food from the restaurant.
“Who’s he?”
Eliot snatched the remote out of Hardison’s hand and turned the screen off. “No one.”
“Oh, that’s funny. I saw a guy that looks just like him, just now. In the restaurant.”
Eliot frowned at her, and clicked the remote, bringing up the security cameras. Sure enough, there they sat, John, Dean and Sam, at a table near the window. Eliot dropped the remote and raced out through the kitchen, just as they were getting up.
“Eliot?” Sam looked confused, then surprised.
Eliot grabbed his arm and dragged him out the door onto the sidewalk. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his face drawn and pale, the circles under his eyes dark.
“Nice to see you too, Son.” John said with a laugh. “Could ask you the same question.”
“I’m working.” Eliot answered.
“So are we.” Dean responded. “Got a case. People dying weird deaths.”
Eliot frowned at him. “I hadn’t heard anything. But, I’ve been busy.”
“Right. Working.” John said, squinting at him.
“Yeah, one of my team is infiltrating a dirty company.” He shook his head. “Are you telling me there are monsters in this town?”
“Cursed objects, at the very least.” Dean said. “We just hunted down the last of them.”
“That mean you’re leaving town?”
They hesitated and Sam cleared his throat. “We aren’t sure it’s over just yet.” He rubbed his forehead and shook his head.
“Man, just go back to the hotel and get some sleep.” Dean said. “Dad and I got this.”
“I’m okay.” Sam argued. “And I won’t sleep anyway.”
“You look like shit.” Eliot said.
Sam’s phone rang and he stepped aside to answer it. “Seriously, he looks bad.” Eliot said to Dean. “Is he okay?”
Dean shook his head. “No, I don’t think he is. He’s not sleeping, hasn’t since Bobby….” Dean shook his head. “Bobby died. Sam’s just gotten worse since, hallucinating, not sleeping...and when he does sleep...” He glanced at their father, but before he could say more, Sam was back with them.
“That was Scott, he says he looked into a mirror and wants to rip his face off.”
“Sam, Dean and I got this.” John said.
“I’m coming with.” Sam said, already heading for the corner.
Eliot glanced at the restaurant, then Sam. He turned away. “Hardison, I have something I have to deal with. I’ll be back.” He pulled the earpiece out before Hardison could respond and tucked it into his pocket, jogging a little to catch up. “Where we going?”
John pointed down the street. “Second hand shop.”
“Why exactly?” Eliot asked.
“They were selling cursed objects after the owner’s mother passed away.” John explained.
“Why do I get the feeling that’s only part of the story?” Eliot asked as Sam and Dean reached the door.”
“Because you’re not as dumb as you look.” Dean responded, peeking in the store. “Okay, you and Dad, hang back. We’re not sure what’s going on yet.”
Sam opened the door and he and Dean went into the store. John stuck his foot in to keep it from closing completely so they could hear what was happening.
“Did she just say she was going to eat him?” Eliot asked. His father nodded. “I’m guessing that isn’t metaphoric.”
The talking disappeared under the sounds of fighting, and Eliot pulled his father out of the way, running straight into the store where Sam was grappling with a man and Dean was getting thrown by a woman who looked vaguely familiar. He grabbed at the woman first, jumping when her face changed and rows of teeth came at him. He punched her hard and rolled out of reach, crashing into a glass display case.
Eliot grabbed at the sword in the case as Sam stuffed the head of the guy he was fighting into a bucket. He swung the sword as the woman closed in on Dean, taking her head off. Dean scrambled to his feet and grabbed the head while black goo oozed out of the open neck.
“That….isn’t normal.” Eliot said, stepping clear of the spilling goo.
“You’d be surprised what you can get used to as normal.” Dean replied, shoving the head into a bag. “Fucking Leviathans.
Sam shoved the guy into a chair, his face smoking and bubbling. “One minute. That’s exactly how long you have to explain.”
“I am dying to know what that bitch tastes like.” He licked his lips, his eyes on the bag in Dean’s hand.
“Wait, let me get this straight. You want to eat your boss?” Dean said, tossing the bag to his father.
“You got a better way to make her stay dead?” the man asked, his eyes skimming over Eliot and John. “Who’re the day players?”
Sam snapped his fingers to pull the man’s attention back to him. “So, what? So now you're – you’re on our side or something?”
“Yeah. No. But if Joyce is alive, then I spend the rest of my life cleaning her messes. Or worse, I get eaten. Or bibbed. So, thanks... for chopping her head off for me. Taking her on solo – yikes. So, really, thanks for the assist there. So how 'bout that head?”
“Yeah, not gonna happen, Georgie.” Dean answered. Sam leveled the sword at the man’s throat and Dean crossed his arms, his face hard. “Now... what the hell is Dick Roman building in Wisconsin?”
Eliot felt his heart stop. “Did you say Dick Roman?” Eliot asked, his voice tight.
Dean turned to look at him. “Yeah, he’s one of these fuckers. Their leader. Why?”
Eliot shook his head, his fingers already pulling the earpiece out of his pocket. “Hardison, we need to get Sophie and Nate out. Now. Clean. Like they were never there. Do you understand me?”
“Eliot?” Dean was following him. “What are you talking about? Who are you talking to?”
Eliot held up a hand as he listened to Hardison telling him how hard they’d worked to establish this cover and Eliot growled. “Damnit Hardison, you listen to me and get them the fuck out. This is not a discussion.”
Dean was frowning at him. Eliot pulled the earpiece out. “My team...we take on corrupt business men, politicians, that kind of thing.”
“Don’t tell me you’re targeting Dick Roman.” Dean said.
“We’ve been working on getting our grifter inside the organization since before I left you in Kentucky.”
“Sam, clean up this mess. Dad, stick with Sam. I’m going to go with Eliot.”
Eliot set back toward the restaurant at a jog, Dean falling in beside him. He put the earpiece back in to hear Hardison cussing up a storm. “Nate is not going to like this.”
“Nate won’t like having his face eaten off even more, I’m guessing.” Eliot said as they entered the restaurant and took the stairs to the office.
“What?” Hardison turned to look at him, startled by the sight of Dean with him.
“You get Nate?”
Hardison held out the cell they’d used to establish part of Sophie’s cover. Eliot took it and held it to his ear. “Mr. Anderson, I’m afraid there’s been an accident. We need Ms. Chapman to come immediately.”
He could hear the strain and anger in Nate’s voice. “Are you certain, she is quite busy this week.”
“The sooner the better.” Eliot said. “I can send someone to get you, if you need me to.”
“Very well. I will inform Ms. Chapman.”
“I will have a car there in ten minutes.” Eliot hung up and threw the phone at Hardison. “As soon as I have them, you start wiping everything, you hear me? There can be no trace of any of us on this. Anywhere.” He slapped Dean’s shoulder and gestured toward the back. “I’ve got a car for this.”
He could feel Hardison staring after them, but just kept going, glad he’d pulled the non descript, black sedan out of storage. “We use it when we’re posing as government...IRS, FBI...looks like your average government issue, but I worked on her myself. I’m betting she could blow the doors off of your Impala.”
“We may have to test that theory.” Dean said as they got in.
Eliot brought the car to life and they pulled out, heading toward downtown. “According to my source, Roman’s got his hands in everything.” Dean offered as they squealed around a corner. “This real estate thing isn’t new, he’s buying up property all over the country.”
“World.” Eliot corrected. “I’ve got a hacker too. Any idea why these monsters want all this land?”
Dean shrugged. “I don’t have a clue.”
Eliot slowed them down as they approached the building, pulling up in front and putting it in park to get out and open the door for Sophie and Nate. He glanced at the building, eyes sliding over the security cameras before he shut the door and got back behind the wheel.
“Who’s this?” Sophie asked as they started moving.
“Dean Winchester.” Eliot responded. “Dean, Nate and Sophie.”
“You going to explain this?” Nate asked.
“I got new information. It isn’t safe for you in there.” Eliot answered, taking a sharp left and checking the rearview mirror for signs that they were being followed.
“What new information?” Nate asked.
“Dick Roman is not a man you can take down by embarrassing him or stealing his money.” Dean said, his voice dark. “In fact, he’s not really a man at all. He’s a monster.”
“Which is why we are going after him.” Nate argued.
“Trust me, Nate.” Eliot said. “This is too big for us.”
“You know I’m going to need a better explanation.” Nate said.
Eliot glanced at Dean who nodded. “Yeah okay. Hardison, you and Parker meet us at the warehouse on 5th.”
Dean was already on the phone with Sam. “Bring him, and all the stuff. Once we’re done here we’ll find a hole to dump it down. Yeah, gimme a sec.” Dean looked at him.
“33256 5th Street.” Eliot offered. “Have them come down the alley and pull in the side door.”
“You get that?” Dean asked. “Okay, see you then.” He closed the phone and looked up at Eliot. “They’re just finishing up. Said to give them a few minutes.”
Eliot nodded and took them down another street. “I think we’re clear.”
“Maybe one more circle.” Dean suggested.
The car was quiet then as Eliot drove them around Portland until both he and Dean were satisfied they weren't being followed. He turned them down a wide alley and stopped between two old buildings. The building was old, but the door and the security system on it were new. Eliot got out and pressed in the code as Dean slid across the seat to drive the car in.
Hardison and Parker were already there as Eliot followed the car in. The door closed and Nate and Sophie were already out of the car. Eliot held up both hands to forestall the questions he could see on Nate’s face. “A few more minutes. You’ll understand.”
“He’s strung pretty tight.” Dean said quietly, moving in close to Eliot.
“He’ll be okay.” Of course, Eliot was only speculating. He had no idea how any of them would react to actual monsters...or any of the other revelations about to take place. Dean’s phone rang and he nodded to Eliot.
He crossed to the door and opened it for the truck and the trailer it was hauling. Sam and their father got out of the truck, eyeing up the rest of the group. Eliot took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay, let’s start with introductions.” Hardison and Parker were staring, Nate and Sophie looked pissed. “Nate, Sophie, Hardison, Parker….this is my father, John, and my brothers Sam and Dean.”
There was a moment of silence, then all four of them started talking at once. Finally, Dean whistled loudly and cut them all off.
“They’re your family, Eliot?” Hardison asked, his voice squeaking. “You had me run background on your family?” He moved to Nate. “Those two are murderers. Supposed to be dead. All of them supposed to be dead.”
“We are not murderers.” Dean said, stepping forward, but careful to keep his hands clearly visible. “Those men were not us.”
“Sure looked like you.” Parker said.
“Okay, I’ll give you that. They did look like us. But they weren’t us.”
“Right. They were monsters.” Nate said, eyebrow raised, looking at Eliot.
“Okay, we’ll show you.” Eliot nodded to his father who went to the back of the trailer and opened it, pulling out the guy from the second hand shop, his hands and feet bound in heavy chains.
“George here is a Leviathan.” Sam said, moving in with what looked like a water gun. “You can tell one by the fact that they’re allergic to cleaning products.” He waved the gun and shot the guy in the face. Instantly his skin started to bubble. “And if you cut them, they bleed black goo.” He pulled a knife from his belt and cut into George’s arm.
Sophie turned away, her face in Nate’s shoulder, while Parker leaned in to see better.
“They can take on anyone’s likeness. For example, this man he currently looks like. George probably ate him and took over his identity.” Sam said.
“And...we’re just supposed to take your word for this?” Nate asked.
Sam moved the blade to George’s throat. “Care to show them?”
George’s features shimmered, fluctuated...then resolved into an exact replica of John. “Okay, enough.” Sam said and George changed back.
Nate was still staring, but Parker seemed to be absorbing it all. “So you’re saying that Dick Roman is one of these Leviathan things?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re saying.” Dean said. “We’re working on defeating them, but it is no fight for civilians.”
“I’m hungry.” George said, shifting in John’s hands. “I was promised a meal.”
“Yeah well, I lied.” Sam said, pulling a machete out of the truck and slicing George’s head off. Sophie screamed and Hardison jumped. Only Nate and Parker didn’t flinch. Sam pulled the head away, crossing back to the trailer. He shoved the head into the trailer and came back wiping his hands.
“Was that necessary?” Nate asked.
“It didn’t kill him.” Dean said. “But yes, it was necessary. If we don’t keep the head and body separated, they eventually come back together and come after us again. So far we haven’t found a way to kill them.”
“Except when they eat each other.” Sam added, making a face.
“Yeah, that.” Dean agreed. “But, since that isn’t an option, this is how we deal with it. Questions?”
“Where do they come from?” Parker asked, bending over to look at the headless body and the slowly spilling puddle of black goo.”
“Purgatory.” Sam said.
“As in...Purgatory?” Hardison asked. “The place unbaptized babies go?”
“Not so much babies.” Dean corrected. “Monsters. We kill them here, they go there.”
“I thought you said you can’t kill them.” Sophie said, rejoining the conversation finally.
“Leviathans, no. Other monsters? Yeah, them we can kill.”
“Other monsters?” Nate asked.
“Vampires, werewolves, ghouls.” John offered. “Yes, they’re all real. Yes, we hunt them and kill them.”
“And when they die here, they end up in Purgatory.” Dean finished. “Only, someone opened a gateway to Purgatory and let these asswipes out. Now, we have to find a way to send them all back where they came from.”
“What if you can’t?” Parker asked. “Send them back, I mean?”
“Then we keep chopping off heads and hiding them.” Dean responded. “So, now you know. Leave Dick Roman to us.”
Sam left his father and brothers talking to Nate and the others, withdrawing behind the truck. He was worrying them, and he knew it. Fact was, he was starting to worry himself. His head was a jumble of memory and hallucination, and there were moments he couldn’t tell them apart from reality...or if the hallucination was that he was here at all.
“How long has it been?” Eliot asked suddenly, appearing beside him. “Since you slept?”
Sam shook his head. “I got an hour or so this morning.”
“I got something that will make sure you sleep.”
Sam sighed. “It won’t help. I’ve tried everything. He won’t shut up.” He gestured at the hallucination as if Eliot could see him. “At least he stopped singing Highway to Hell.”
“I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in your head, Sam. But you need sleep.”
“Oh, I know I do. Trust me.”
“Then let me try to help you. I have a place not far from here.”
”He can’t help you, Sammy. He’s a hallucination. He isn’t real.” Lucifer was leaning in whispering in his ear.
“Go away.” Sam hissed at him, then looked up quick at Eliot. “Not you.”
”You know what you need to do Sam.”
“No.” Sam hissed at him, stepping away, closer to Eliot.
Eliot raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s it. I’m not taking no. Dean, I’m taking Sam someplace safe. Call me when you wrap this up.”
Eliot took his elbow and escorted Sam toward the door of the car he and Dean had arrived in, Lucifer trailing behind. Sam started laughing as the hallucination started singing again.
”You can’t ride in my little red wagon, front seat’s broken and the axle’s draggin’...”
Eliot held Sam’s door like they were on a date.
”You’re twisted, Sammy. He’s your brother.”
“Stop.” Sam said, squeezing his eyes shut as his mind filled with images of him and Eliot naked and sweating as they grappled and fucked. He grabbed at his head and tried to force himself to think about other things.
“I don’t understand what you’re going through.” Eliot said. “Dean told me a little bit, but…”
Sam forced himself to look up, to see Eliot and the car. “He wants me to believe that this is the hallucination, that I’m still down there...I can feel him...them...the torture.” He swallowed. “Like it’s real….it was real, maybe he’s right, maybe I’m still in the cage and this is all some elaborate psychological escape I create for myself.”
“You always dream up second families and fucked up realities to escape your fucked up reality?” Eliot asked, his voice warm.
“What, you don’t?” Sam asked, laughing a little.
The memories were shifting, from Eliot and Dean and the weekend they’d spent to memories of being ripped apart, forced into smaller and smaller boxes, flames and sulfur
“Fuck. Fuck.” His body was seizing up. Memory slammed through him, alternating between torment and pleasure, until he wasn’t sure there was any difference. He could hear Eliot calling his name, felt the car swerve and come to a stop, then there were hands on his skin.
“Hey, Sam. Come on.” Eliot pulled his face up and Sam blinked, trying to push the memory back. “Okay, I’m sorry.” At first Sam couldn’t figure out what he meant, then his fist slammed into Sam’s jaw and everything went dark.
“What the hell did you give him?” Dean asked, stalking the room.
“Relax, he’s fine.” Eliot answered, intercepting him before he could storm into the bedroom. “I’m monitoring him and he’s sleeping.”
“How long has he been out?”
“Since I popped him to stop his freak out yesterday. Almost 24 hours. I took the IV out about an hour ago. He should wake up soon.”
“Dad’s already headed to the next job.” Dean sat on the couch, running a hand over his head.
“He seems happier. You know, hunting.”
Dean smirked. “Yeah, he hasn’t lost a step either. He’s all gung ho. I almost can’t keep up.”
“Yeah, well, he’s had a thirty year vacation.”
“And I’ve been running for so long I don’t even remember….”
“Dean?”
Eliot turned as Dean stood and Sam squinted at them both sleepily, pulling a blanket around himself as if he was cold.
“Hey, Sam. How you feeling?”
Sam nodded. “Better, actually. A lot better. Little groggy.”
“That’s the drugs. It’ll wear off.” Eliot said.
“Dad?”
“He’s headed for Indiana. Caught a case. Figured he’d get the research started.”
Sam nodded. “If Eliot will give me my pants back, we can go.”
Eliot chuckled and grabbed the freshly cleaned jeans on the back of the chair and tossed them at Sam. “You want me to pack up some of the cocktail I gave you in case it gets that bad again?”
“Yeah, I haven’t slept that good in a long time.” Sam gestured back into the bedroom. “Gimme a minute.”
Eliot went to the small fridge and pulled out two vials, handing them to Dean. “Best done with an IV. Stick to the dosage on the labels. Do not deviate. He shouldn’t use it more than once a week.”
Dean nodded and pocketed the vials. “Got it.”
“You two got a plan?” Eliot asked.
“Yeah, figure out how to kill the bastards or send them back to purgatory. You?”
“Nate’s already got another client. We leave in the morning.”
Sam emerged from the bedroom. “So, back to normal?”
“As normal as it gets for us, I guess.” Dean said. “You ready?”
Sam nodded. “Eliot, thank you.”
“No need. Just watch each other’s backs. And the old man’s.”
“And you watch yours. Call us if you find anything that’s more our thing than yours.”
Eliot walked them to the door. “I will.”
He watched them go, crossing to the window to watch them get into a car. It felt wrong letting them drive away knowing that they were off to fight demons and monsters. It made what he did seem so trivial.
“You okay?” Dean asked as they drove away.
Sam inhaled and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. No nightmares, no Lucifer.”
“That’s good. Look, I haven’t said anything, but you should know Crowley hasn’t given up looking for the box. Dad thinks the heart belongs to Lucifer’s first human vessel.”
Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Dean...I need to tell you something.”
“I’m listening.” Dean prodded when he was quiet for too long.
“The...hallucination, Lucifer...he wants me to…” Sam cleared his throat. “He keeps telling me I need to...eat it.”
“What?” Dean asked, looking at him like he had grown another head. “You can’t.”
“I know that. I don’t….he says it’s the only way to keep it away from Crowley.”
“Sam, he’s not real.”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know that. I’m just telling you because….hell, I don’t know. I figured you should know.”
“I’m glad you said something.” Dean said softly after the silence had grown again. “Look, I know it all seems a little...overwhelming right now. But we’re going to get through this. We always do.”
Sam wasn’t so sure, but he kept his doubts to himself. For the moment the drug-enforced sleep had him fairly clear headed, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the memories and delusions were back, before the sleep deprivation would drive him a little further down the path to insanity.
At least Dean would have their father now when it happened. And Eliot too, he supposed. Family. It had been just him and Dean for so long. Maybe, when it was over, Dean could have something like normal.
Maybe.