Title: The Family Business

Fandom: Mrs. Brown's Boys with a slight Supernatural crossover

Episode: After 'Mammy's Gamble' and before 2015 Christmas special

Rating: T

Type: One-shot

Paring: Cannon only

Background: There are things in the war Grandad never talked about. Not because he wasn't allowed, but because he didn't want to drag his family into it. His son knew too much and he ended up dead. And one of his grandsons also knew and he might be dead, no one knew. Now his youngest grandson found out and he is determined to keep him alive.

Trevor has seen things that, at first, he didn't believe were possible. But Father Johnson is dead, he now knows more about guns that he ever wished he knew and he's rethinking his live direction. He feels like a cowered not going back, but they closed the Hell Gate and he just wanted to take a break, but there seems to be more 'jobs' at home than he expected.

Summary: Trevor comes home from the missions, but he doesn't seem like himself. With no intent of returning, being out every night and seemingly drinking himself to the point of unconsciousness, no one knows what to do. No one except Grandad.

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The Family Business

Trevor dragged himself out of bed, not able to ignore his mother's yelling anymore. He looked at the time, groaning out loud. He had only gotten in at 5 that morning and it was now 8. He wanted to sleep, but knew his mother could -and would- come in and dump cold water on him. Signing, he looked at his floor, guns, knives and books were scattered around the room and he should put them away before Mark brings his nephew for a visit. He didn't want Bono involved in this, at all.

"Trevor!" Cathy's voice came through the door, "Can I come in?"

"Just a minute!" Trevor yelled, shoving some of the weapons under his bed before grabbing a clean shirt - was it clean? - and putting it on. Just before opening the door he sees his uniform hanging by his closet. When was the last time he wore it? When he arrive a month ago? Was he even wearing it then or was the last time when he and the others …

"Trevor?" Cathy asked, opening the door slighting, awkwardly. Since his return he hasn't allowed anyone in his room, something he hasn't ever done before. After all, he never had a dirty magazine like Dermot, or smoked like Mark had when he was in high school or even hid drugs like Simon did before he left.

"Coming," Trevor said, opening the door just enough to get though, locking it behind him and taking the key. He didn't want his mammy snooping and he defiantly didn't want Bono getting inside today accidentally, "Breakfast?"

"Yeah," Cathy said awkwardly, much like everyone else has since he came back, and she looked away. She started moving to the starts before suddenly turning around, pulling at her jacket as she looked at him intensely, "Trevor is everything-"

"Everything is fine Cathy," Trevor tells her, walking past and going downstairs.

Thankfully the only people in the house were his sister, mammy and Grandad. The last week his siblings have arrived 'unannounced' to breakfast just to take turns asking if he was 'alright'. Honestly, it was starting to really get frustrating.

"Morning Boy," his Grandad called as he entered the living room. Trevor looked up and the two looked at each other. Grandad had been more attentive to him the last couple of days, since he came home with visible bruises a week ago that resulted in his mammy calling Maria in the middle of the night to come look at him.

He really hated ghosts.

"Morning Grandad," Trevor replied before entering the kitchen, happy to see only his mammy.

"Morning Mammy," Trevor said, going to the cupboard and grabbing a glass and filling it with whiskey before sitting down. He pushed the tea away, happy to see greasy, hangover, food on his plate.

"Morning Trevor love," Agnes said, looking sad at the drink in her sons hand as Cathy came in. The older woman took a seat across from him, staring at their mammy intensely. Trevor looked between the two before going back to his drink. Obviously the matriarch had to talk to him about something she didn't want to. Ignoring the silent conversation between mother and daughter, he drowned his glass before going to get more.

"Trevor love," his mammy started. Trevor threw a glance over his shoulder before going back to what he was doing, "Mammy."

"Have you… have you spoken to Father Damien about… about going back to the mission son?" Agnes said with a struggle. Trevor turned to his mother, leaning against the counter. He doesn't think he's ever heard his mother asked him when he was going back to the mission before, especially since she was actually encouraging his return. Not surprising really, the woman wanted to keep her youngest near, but he assumed his seemingly aimless visit prompted the question. As for Damien… He doesn't think he's spoken to his friend at all- no. He had spoken to him once, when he went to deliver the letter about Father Johnson's death-

CRASH

"Trevor!" both Cathy and Agnes yelled, rushing to the young man. Trevor looked at his hand, part of the crushed glass still in his hand, his blood starting to mix with the small amount of leftover whiskey. His mother pulled the broken glass out of his hand as she instructed Cathy to call Maria. Agnes was carful; some of the glass had imbedded itself into his hand. Trevor shook her off, moving to the sink and started pulling the glass out. This wasn't the first time he had glass in his hand.

"Cathy, don't call Maria, I'm fine!" Trevor called as he kept his hand under the water.

"You're not fine!" Agnes said, trying to come closer.

"Maria is coming," Cathy called.

Trevor threw his head back and made the loudest, ugliest groan he could, shocking his mother and sister. Sure most of the glass was out -there might still be small pieces left- he grabbed his shirt, ripping a layer off and wrapping his had quickly before storming out the back door. He kept walking, hearing his mother and sister call out to him.


He didn't think where he was walking to, but he was not really surprised to find himself at the cathedral. Even with everything that happened, the monsters and ghosts and demon and… and death, he hasn't wavered in his faith. He hasn't forsaken it or ignored it. He surrounded his hunting with it, praying before and after each hunt, praying for the lost souls and even for… even for the lives he himself have taken.

Even though the apocalypse has happened.

Even more when he knows the opinion most angels have of humans.

Trevor sighed as he entered the church, not surprised to find only a few people in the church. He walked to the confession box, falling into the line before the door. As a priest, he normally did his confessions in a more private setting, but he doubted anyone recognized him without his uniform and glasses (something he had to get rid of when he started hunting. He hated contacts, but they were more practical). Maybe Clark Kent wasn't that much of an idiot after all.

After only two people it was his turn, knowing Damien was in the centre box. The divider opened and he started.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned-" Trevor started, not looking at his friend, wondering if he would even get to his sins.

"Trevor? What are you doing here?" Damien asked, interrupting him quickly.

"Confession," he said calmly.

"Your mother is looking for you," Damien said, surprising Trevor.

"Oh." He didn't know his friendship with the other man was so prominent to his family that his mother would call him.

"Is there anyone after you?" Damien asked.

Trevor shook his head; no one was after him when he came in.

"Then lets finish this in the back, your mother said you were hurt," Damien said, not giving Trevor time to reply as he already got up.


Trevor hissed slightly as Damien cleaned the wounds on his hand, knowing the other man was pressing harder than necessary on purpose. Damien had changed out of his confession uniform and was wearing his normal one, having given Trevor a look when he saw that he was wearing civilian clothing, both his jeans and shirt ripped. His friend had gotten the church's first aid kit and immediately started on his injuries.

"I didn't know you knew first aid," Trevor said, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Some of the boys in the parish scrap their knees a lot when playing. I took a course this month actually. You would know if you actually came in," Damien told him, causing Trevor to wince.

Damien wrapped the hand, using actual bandages this time, giving the rip shirt a look.

"Not the cleanest method," Damien commented.

"But the fastest," Trevor replied without thinking, causing Damien to pause and look at him.

"Where did you learn that?" Damien asked.

"Please don't," Trevor begged, not wanting to pull his friend into hunting, "You know you can't ask what happened."

This, thankfully, was true. After Father Johnson died, Father Richard took over. The older man knew about Hunting, was a hunter himself and had taught everyone what they needed to know when he arrived. Taking care of the monsters from the Hell Gate became much easier after that. The man, once he learned that Trevor was going home, had written several letters to be given to the Bishop, one of them to inform them of Father Johnson's death and the other that allowed Trevor to not talk about what was happening on their side. There were other letters as well.

"I know," Damien said softly, finishing the wrapping. Trevor sighed, looking away.

"Are you going home now?" Damien asked.

"Yeah," Trevor said, smiling slightly, "Mark wants me to spend some time with Bono."

"Do you?" Damien asked suddenly.

Trevor stayed silent. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his nephew, never that, he just wasn't sure how to interact with him anymore. Usually he would tell the boy stories of his missions, but that wasn't an option any longer.

"I don't know what to do with him," Trevor said.

"Take him to the park. Play some games with him. Just make sure he is happy," Damien said. Trevor smiled.

"Thanks," Trevor said, flexing his bandaged hand as they stood up, "are you still busy?"

"Yes," Damien said, pulling his eyebrows together.

"Do you want to come over for dinner?" Trevor answered the unasked question.

"Oh, your mother wouldn't mind?" Damien asked.

"Not at all," Trevor said.

"I'll be there at 5, if that's alright?" Damien said, putting the first aid back together.

"That's perfect."


Bono laughed as his Uncle Trevor attacked him with tickles just as he entered the room. He screamed slightly, still laughing as he was picked up and now hanging upside down, his head against his uncles back as Trevor held onto his legs. Bono stretched his arms over his head, trying to touch the ground.

"Trevor. Be more careful!" Betty said in surprise. She, nor Mark, had expected the younger man to greet his nephew so roughly. Trevor smiled slightly, manoeuvring the boy till he was allocated on his hip. Bono giggled slighting, wrapping his arms around Trevor's neck.

"Sorry Betty," Trevor said, kissing his sister-in-law on the cheek.

"You seem better," Mark said, one arm hugging his little brother. Trevor rolled his eyes. His family had also been touchier since his 'depression' or whatever Cathy was calling it now. Not that he minded. It was just the first couple of days that had him jumping every time someone came near, half expecting to be thrown into a wall- again. Thankfully he has been able to relax, even with his almost nightly hunts.

"He finally when to see Father Damien," his mother said, poking her head through the kitchen window, "Trevor even invited him over for dinner."

Mark frowned glancing at his brother when he saw a strange look on his sister's face. They weren't implying what he thought they were implying were they?

"I'm not gay," Trevor said calmly, grabbing his jacket and the ball he and Bono were going to play with. Even without looking he could tell his mother was about to faint, his sister was pulling her 'you're-in-denial' face and Mark was trying to look like he wasn't thinking it too.

"Are you off?" Betty asked.

"Yeah," Trevor said, carefully checking his weapons. After coming home, and after his mother lectured him, he had changed and armed himself. He was very disappointed in himself for not even having his knife when he had left that morning.

Trevor looked at Betty, smiling, "I'm taking Bono to the park."

"Ok then," she said, kissing her son, whom was still on Trevor's hip, "have fun."

"We will. We'll be back before 5," Trevor said, leaving.

Mark turned to his sister after the door closed.

"Gay?" Mark asked. Cathy sighed.

"Cathy thinks your brother is having an identical critter," Agnes said, repositioning her glasses.

"That's identity crises Mammy," Cathy said, before turning back to her brother, "when was the last time Trevor even had a friend Mark. At least one he didn't mind coming over?"

"Never," Mark said, knowing the answer. Trevor had been a loner in school and his social standing didn't improve much after his career decision and his vow of celibacy.

"But Trevor loves his job," Mark argued.

"Then why doesn't he want to go back?" Cathy asked.

Mark shared a look with Betty, not wanting to believe the reason his sister had come up with.

"Oh Trevor. Oh my poor boy," Agnes cried into her napkin.

"Come now, Mrs Brown. Trevor said he wasn't gay," Betty said, trying to reason.

"Your right Betty," Agnes said as she stopped crying suddenly and turned to her daughter, "Stop accusing your brother of things!"

"I'm not accusing him Mammy! I'm just saying he is showing typical signs of someone going through an identity crises!" Cathy told everyone.

Mark started to move around awkwardly. While he didn't think his brother would break his vow, he also trusted his sister. She was training to be a psychologist after all. He looked as his wife, and from the way she was pulling her face she defiantly didn't believe his sister.

"He's not gay," Grandad said, surprising everyone. They all turned to him. He wasn't looking at them as he flipped through the channels.

"How do you know Grandad?" Agnes asked, poking her head through the window.

"He's just going through some things. He'll be fine eventually," Grandad said.

"Yes, but how do you know," Agnes demanded, hitting him with her towel.

"Oi!" Grandad shouted, defending himself as she kept hitting him.


Bono grinned as his Uncle Trevor pushed him on the swing. They had just finished playing catch and with fewer people, Bono was going to take advantage of the longer time on the swing.

"Uncle Trevor?" Bono called.

"What is it?" Trevor asked.

"Are you gay?" Bono asked wondering if he was going to get another uncle. He remembered a year or so ago when his mother told him that his Uncle Rory was getting married to his now Uncle Dino and that sometimes men married other men and sometimes woman married other woman. He didn't understand why she had to 'sit him down' when she told him about Uncle Dino; she didn't do it when Aunt Maria became Aunt Maria.

"No. Your Aunt Cathy is just…" Trevor bit his lip, wondering how he was going to explain the situation to a 6 year old. Sighing, he stopped the swing, bending down to Bono's level.

"I think you've noticed that I haven't been very happy the last couple of days?" Trevor asked.

Bono nodded, "Daddy said you're sad."

Trevor smiled quickly, before looking down.

"Yeah. Well your Aunty thinks it's because I like someone who can't like me back-"

"Why not?" Bono asked.

"It has to do with rules," Trevor told him, thinking it will be easy to understand.

"Are you sad because of that?" Bono asked.

"No," Trevor said, biting his lip, "You see…."

Trevor stopped suddenly, noticing a strange man looking his way from behind Bono. He stared intensely at the man when suddenly his eyes turned black and he smirked at Trevor. Trevor felt his heart stop. He quickly looked around, happy that no one else was around.

"Bono. Bono listen very carefully," Trevor said pulling his nephew of the swing and looking him straight in the eyes, "Do you know the way to your Granny's house?"

Slowly, Bono nodded and Trevor let out a sigh of relief. He tensed up again however when he saw the demon coming his way.

"Bono I need you to run to your Granny's house ok. Run very very fast-"

"Uncle-"

"There is a bad man behind you and he's coming this way, so I need you to run! Run now!" Trevor pushed the boy away and watched as he started running in the, thankfully, right direction. He wasn't able to watch long because the demon was on him and had already thrown a punch.

Trevor landed on his back and quickly got to his feet, grabbing his gun and shooting as he pulled out his hip flask, expertly opening it with one hand. He was just able to throw some holy water on the demon when he was knocked back again. The demon screamed, grabbing his face as Trevor got up, kicking the man in the gut before punching him in the face. It didn't do much, demons tending to be a lot stronger than normal humans. But it did give him enough time to pull out his phone and put on the exorcist voice recording, throwing his phone a few meters away before tackling the demon. The demon struggled as it tried to get to the phone, but Trevor just just kept it from it. (Normally hunters would say the exorcist themselves, but he was still trying to get his tough around the Latin words.) He finally got the demon on it's back and started punching it in the face repeatedly. The black eyed man growled, properly growled, as he grabbed Trevor by the neck and started to squeeze. Trevor scratched at the hand, quickly drawing blood as he felt his vision start to go dark. Now in the air he started kicking, still trying to distract the demon from getting the phone.

"Trevor!"

Damien?

No!

Trevor yelled as he kicked as high as he could, smacking his foot in the man's face just as the exorcist finished. Damien was helping him up as the black smog erupted out of the man's mouth, flying off somewhere. The man dropped on the floor as Trevor coughed, trying to get the air back into his lungs.

"What was that?" Damien asked him as the man woke up.

"Fuck," Trevor said, closing his eyes and dropping his head on Damien's chest behind him.


Trevor watch from the door as Damien talked to the previously possessed man. He would have done it, but Father Richard had a system. Someone had to find out everything the person remembered from being possessed, especially like in this situation where there might be an ulterior motive, and then another person consoled them. Never the same person. And it was understandable. No one wanted to be consoled by someone who pretty much makes you relive the worst moments of your life.

He knew.

Explaining to Damien the situation felt almost worse than that. Dragging someone into this world… he's never felt like such a bastard.

He was really never getting married.

"Thank you Father," the man said, slowly getting up and walking pasted him, giving the widest breath he could. Trevor looked back into the room, Damien hadn't moved. Pulling out the alcohol he just bought, he stepped into the room. He opened it, taking a swing before handing it to the other man. Damien didn't even hesitate; he too took a swing from the bottle. Trevor sighed as he sat across from his friend, taking the offered bottle and taking another swing.

Suddenly his phone rang. Trevor pulled out the device, looking at the caller id. It was Mark. Not surprisingly. Bono had probably arrived at the house and his brother, ever the overprotective figure, had gone to the park, only to find no one. He wondered if the whole family was searching alrea-

"Father Damien!" Rory's voice filled the church, "Oh Dino, where is he?"

"Breaks over," Trevor mutter, taking another swing before getting up. He winced, his injuries already biting him in the butt.

"Are you alright?" Damien asked before shaking his head, "Stupid question."

"I'm good. You?" Trevor asked as Damien stood next to him.

"I-no," Damien answered honestly, "Does knowing get easier?"

"No. Just harder," Trevor told him.

"Father Damien!" Rory called again.

Trevor sighed and walked into the main area of the church. Rory and Dino quickly saw him, both quickly running to him. Trevor, knowing his brother, had prepared himself to be grabbed and hugged by both his bother and brother-in-law.

"Trevor!" Rory yelled, throwing his arms around his little brother. Trevor winced loudly, causing Rory to pull back quickly and start to look him over. Dino, who also cared about the younger man, helped his husband to see just how badly he was hurt.

"Trevor! What happened!" Rory asked as Damien came into view. Both Rory and Dino glanced at the man, looking at each other quickly before turning back to Trevor.

"Let's just say, not everyone likes me," Trevor said, pulled away from his brother.

"Did you call the police?" Rory asked, watching Trevor move closer to Damien.

"No, he got away and I didn't get a good look at him," Trevor lied, clutching his hand into a fist. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Damien look down; properly realizing that lying was going to be a common thing from now on.

"Let's get you home Trevor," Damien said, drawing the two men's attention away from what happened.

"Yeah," Trevor said, pulling his jacket tighter and moving forward, Damien staying next to him.

Behind them, Dino covered his mouth and pointed something out to his husband. There, in the back of Trevor's jeans, was a gun.


"If I find the fecking bastard who touched my boy…" Agnes threatened as Maria treated Trevor's injuries. Trevor kept quiet as he looked into the living room where Damien was talking to Mark and a police officer.

"Ow!" Trevor yelled, drawing everyone's attention.

"Oh, sorry Trevor," Maria said, looking at a cut on Trevor's arm. It was old though and Trevor knew Maria knew. She looked at him, but he kept quiet, hoping she wouldn't say anything.

"Trevor-" No such luck

"Leave it," Trevor said, his voice hard. He saw her wince, but tried not to apology.

He hated vampires more than ghosts.

"Trevor, Son?" Agnes asked.

"I'm fine mammy," Trevor said as he watched the police officer leave and everyone fill into the kitchen. He rolled his eyes. He hated being the youngest sometimes.

"Who did this Trevor," Mark asked. Trevor gave his brother a look, a look he had perfected after months of vampires and ghosts and demons and who knows what else. It wasn't a nice look, it wasn't a kind look, it wasn't a look he normally gave humans, but he really wanted this subject dropped. Mark had taken a step back and everyone else looked uncomfortable.

The visual just wasn't something they would assassinate with Trevor.

Maria was at his side, stitching up the cut on his arm, no anaesthetic, and Trevor wasn't making a sound. He was covered in bruises, especially the ugly one on his neck. There was gun on the kitchen table, badly covered by a kitchen towel, thrown there when the officer came in and there was a large glass of whiskey next to it.

This wasn't their little brother.

This looked more like their father.

Agnes felt like crying. Out of all her children, Trevor was the last one she ever even thought would turn out like Redser. And while the man wasn't abusive, he was distant, constantly keeping secrets and doing weird things to the house. While the man was a raging drunk, he did help around the house, fixing this and changing that. Where else would Mark get it from? Thankfully that was all Mark got from his father, but now… now it seems Trevor got everything else.

"Can I go to bed," Trevor asked. He was really tiered, and he knew he had to look into the demon situation the next day.

"Yes son," Agnes said softly. Trevor smiled at Maria, who thankfully smiled back, and got up. He walked out the kitchen, his siblings moving out of his way. Cathy looked like she was going to say something, but quickly stopped herself. Damien, who waited in the living room, swallowed as he looked at his friend.

"Trev-"

"I'll come see you tomorrow Damien," Trevor said, walking past him and heading to bed.


These days, the best time of the day was at night. Most of the family was gone, the rest asleep. And when he went to work the darkness hid him nicely.

Trevor sat on the couch, the lights off, and no one to bother him. He took a large swallow of his beer, having finished the whiskey some time ago.

"You're just like your father," a voice said behind him. Trevor didn't even hesitate, dropping his beer and pulling out his gun, pointing it at the being that snuck up on him. He lowered it only slightly when he saw Grandad.

"Put that away before you hurt yourself," Grandad said, walking past him and going to sit in his chair. Slowly, Trevor dropped the gun, sitting down and picking up his beer.

"So," Grandad started, "You're a hunter."

"How did you figure that out?" Trevor asked, more interested in how his Grandad knew about hunters.

"The silver knife. No one has a silver knife that sharp unless they are a hunter," Grandad said.

"Oh," Trevor replied, taking a swing of his drink, finishing it, "Do you want a drink?"

Grandad nodded and Trevor went to get two more beers, easily opening them with his injured hand. Handing one to his Grandad, he sat back down on the couch.

"How do you know about Hunters?" Trevor asked.

"I was one during the war. Most people were. Your father was one too, so is Simon," Grandad told him, causing Trevor to choke on his drink.

"Simon?" Trevor asked in shock.

"Yeah. That's why he's gone, left to be a hunter. Could be dead in a ditch for all we know. And ye dad. Ye dad was hunter and that's what killed him," Grandad said, taking a swing of his own drink, "And now. And now yer a hunter."

"I'm a Priest," Trevor said forcefully, "And I'll be a Priest till I die."

"And being a Hunter is what's going to kill you," Grandad replied.

Trevor sighed, holding the beer with both hands and looking down.

"There was a cult. They took this little girl, she probably wasn't even ten, and they killed her. They used her blood and opened a Hell Gate. And those things…those things attract monsters," Trevor told him.

"How long ago?" Grandad asked.

"Nearly a year. Half the parish were dead by the third month. Father Johnson… Father Johnson was possessed by a fallen angel," Trevor said, the glass bottle cracking under his grip, "He had this blade. Killed an angel that was helping us. Killed five of us before I could get the blade out of his hands and… and-"

"You killed him," Grandad finished.

"Yes. I killed Father Johnson. I killed an Angel. I deserve hell," Trevor said, looking like he was about to throw up.

"Did you tell Father Damien?"

"I couldn't. He saw me exorcise this demon, so I told him about the monsters and the Hell Gate. But Father Johnson… as far as he knows Father Johnson drowned," Trevor told him.

"Who took over?"

"Father Richard Grey. He is an old hunter. He's been training us, keeping us alive," Trevor said.

"Does he know about Johnson?" Grandad asked. Trevor looked at the older man, fidgeting in his seat. Finally figuring out what was wrong, he laughed humourlessly.

"I said I deserve hell. Not that I'm going there. I know what I did was necessary, but it doesn't mean I like it. I hate being a hunter. I hate being a killer," Trevor told him.

"All hunters do," Grandad said.

The two sat in silence, both drinking their beers.

"Will you go back?" Grandad asked.

"There is nothing to go back to. The Hell Gate is closed, the monsters have dispersed. Those that stayed were quickly dealt with," Trevor said, taking a drink, "Besides. I have enough work here."

"As a priest or as a hunter?" Grandad asked. Trevor didn't answer. He didn't even look at the old hunter.

"Trevor. Boy. You've wanted to help people since you were a child-"

"I didn't mean like this!" Trevor half shouted, standing up.

"But maybe God did," Grandad told him. Trevor looked horrified, but he sat down.

"I-I don't know what to do," Trevor said.

"And what do you do when that happens?" Grandad asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Pray," Trevor replied.

"Then son, you've got some praying to do," Grandad said. He then finished his beer and got out of his chair. He walked passed Trevor, stopping at the starts.

"Ye mam worries. So does everyone else. Keep that in mind," Grandad told him before disappearing upstairs.

Trevor took a swing from his beer and continued to stare into the darkness.


Trevor stared at himself in the mirror. Sighing, he reached up and readjusted his clerical collar. It really has been a long time since he's worn his uniform. But if he was going to be a priest, he has to look like one, including the glasses.

Even if the glasses are fake.

Checking himself again, he left the bathroom, going to his room. Inside most of his weapons have been packed into a duffle bag, which he was taking with him to the church. Grabbing it, he left the room, again locking his door. He turned around just as his sister came out of her room.

"Trevor?" Cathy said.

"Morning Cathy," Trevor said.

"Morning," she said smiling, "How are you feeling?"

Trevor paused, thinking the question over. How was he feeling? Honestly… like shit, but-

"Getting better," Trevor told her, heading downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Morning Mammy," Trevor said, surprising both his mother and all his brothers.

"Trevor?" Dermot looked at him in shock.

"See Mammy. No need to talk to him," Mark said.

"Well I still need to talk to him," Rory said.

"About what?" Trevor asked.

"Damien!" they all said. Trevor's eye twitched.

"I'm not gay, talk over," Trevor said and turned around.

"Where are you of to love?" Agnes called.

Trevor paused, realizing what he was going to have to say.

"I'm going to church," Trevor said.

"Where Damien is," Rory said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Still not gay!" Trevor called as he left the house.


"So the demon knew you? Or did he just know what you were?" Damien asked, carefully picking up one of the knives Trevor brought with him. Trevor looked over at him, taking the sharp object from his hands and placing it back on the table.

"Knew what I was I think," Trevor said, pulling up his right sleeve. On his wrist was some kind of bracelet, charms woven into a leather strap that fit tightly around his wrist.

"These are protection charms. Most hunters have them," Trevor told him.

"What are they for?" Damien asked, carefully touching them.

"Each one is different. That one is an anti-demon possession charm. That one helps with low level curses. Trust me; witches are annoying - and gross. Each one does something different. That actually reminds me," Trevor said reaching into his bag and pulling out a bracelet similar to his, "Father Richard showed us how to make them."

Trevor handed the bracelet to Damien, who took it, a shocked look on his face.

"That would keep you safe…ish," Trevor said, loading his shot gun with his rock salt rounds.

"That doesn't make me feel better," Damien said.

"It doesn't make anyone feel better," Trevor said handing him a gun. Damien looked horrified.

"What's this for?" Damien squeaked out.

"Today you're going to learn how to take this apart and put it together," Trevor said readjusting the clerical collar.

"I'm not touching that," Damien said.

"You'll be fine," Trevor said before biting his lip and looking at Damien intently, "I need to find out if I can get stationed here."

Damien looked at him, confused.

"You are stationed here," He told the other priest.

"What?" Trevor asked.

"Didn't Father Richard tell you? He wrote a letter to the Bishop with a recommendation that you stay here," Damien told him.

"Oh. Well that's one problem off my list," Trevor said as he started to take the gun apart.

"What other problem could there be? Well, except demons? And vampires? And Jin? And-"

"I get it!" Trevor said, putting the gun back together before handing it to Damien, "It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"My family thinks I'm in love with you. Here like this," Trevor said, taking the gun out of the frozen hands and taking it apart again.

"What?!"

%%%%%%%%%

The End.

The Damien thing just happened. I have no idea where it came from. But no, not a pairing, jut Trevor's family being weird.

The bracelet: -amazon images / I / 519UVN0hh2L._UY395_ . jpg