Maybe a month later.
"Agent Singer?" Henry, the Unit Chief, called. Dean looked up from his proofread of the paperwork he had just finished filling out. The Jo Harvelle case had gone cold, which infuriated Dean to no end, but he was trying to not let it get the best of him. Most people had already left the office, and he already had his coat on.
Great, Dean thought as he stood up and stared walking towards Henry's office. I'm in trouble for not fixing this.
Henry held open the door for him as Dean walked in.
"Have a seat, Dean," he said.
Sam was already there, looking slightly awkward. He didn't look up as Dean walked in. He was so in trouble. There was a massive shield hanging on the back wall. To say Henry had a thing for Medieval warfare was putting it lightly.
"Look, Henry," he started.
Henry held up his hand to silence him. "I don't want to hear it Dean. Please just, sit down. This isn't about the Jo Harvelle case, just so you know. Look, you're a good agent, Dean, and we can't catch every bad guy the first time around. No one's holding this against you; I just want you to know that."
Dean shrugged. He didn't really have anything to say to that.
"I wanted to talk to you because you're getting reassigned."
"Reassigned!" Dean shouted. "Look, Henry, I know that this last case wasn't my best, but you just said yourself that there's not much—"
Henry held up his hand again and Dean shut his mouth. "You're reassignment has nothing to do with the Jo Harvelle case, Dean. Frankly, it has more to do with your past work."
"I beg your pardon?" Dean asked.
Henry nodded at Sam. "I was just reviewing with Agent Winchester here your field record, and I must say, it's most impressive."
Dean gaped at Henry. "My…my field record, sir?"
"Yep. We're going to move you over to Counterproliferation. We feel that your skills would be better put to work in that department."
"What about my work here?" Dean asked. "Did I do something wrong? I—I don't understand."
"On the contrary, Agent Singer," Henry said. "You've been outstanding. Now," He said, leaning in. "Your security clearance has already been updated, but I want you to know that what I tell you next is not to leave this room, do you understand me? If you reference this conversation to anyone who is ignorant to the following information, I will deny that we ever spoke and you will be shipped off to God-knows-where faster than you can say 'forgive me'. Do you understand?"
Shocked by Henry's intensity, Dean nodded. "Yes sir. I definitely understand."
Henry leaned back in his chair, evidently satisfied. "Your world, Agent," Henry said. "Is so much bigger than you thought it was. We're moving you over to the Counterproliferation branch because we think you're uniquely suited to deal with the threats to this nation's security that would leave the average man crying for his mother."
"And what threats would those be?" Dean asked.
"The supernatural." Henry said. He stood up and peered out the window. "Agent Winchester here can fill you in on the rest of the details—he's been an active member of the branch for quite some time now."
Dean looked at Sam incredulously. "And what exactly does this transfer entail?" He asked.
Henry shrugged. "Demons, angels, werewolves, Hell if I know. Not my department."
"Awesome." Dean muttered. "Can I go?"
Henry nodded. "Yep. You start tomorrow. Agent Winchester will show you where to go. You can clear out your desk sometime this week."
Dean stood up to go, Sam next to him.
"Oh, and Dean?" Henry asked. "You'll probably be assigned a partner."
"I work better on my own." Dean said.
Henry chuckled. "I'll tell them you said that, but I don't think it will make much of a difference. Good night, Dean."
"Night, Henry."
Once they were out of the building, Dean pushed Sam against a wall. Shock had held him together before, but now...
"Supernatural Department?" He demanded.
"Dean…" Sam sighed. "Let go. I'll explain."
Grudgingly, Dean released his grip on Sam's coat.
"Dammit, man, I thought we were friends."
"We are friends,"
"Are we? Because I'd have thought you would've mentioned something like this to me!"
"Dean," Sam said. "You know I couldn't have. I'd have lost my job. And it's not like you'd have believed me anyways. Honestly, do you believe it yet yourself?"
"I don't know what to believe, Sam!" Dean shouted. "I'm not going to question Henry, because he's Henry! But really? Supernatural? How is that even possible? And what do we have to do with it anyways?" He leaned over and tried to take some deep, calming breaths. He'd been doing his best to keep himself together in Henry's office, but now that the weight of it was hitting him, he didn't know what to do. "Does Jess know?" He asked suddenly, turning to look at Sam.
Sam shook his head. "No. She just thinks I'm a regular Fed."
Dean stared at Sam in horror. "And—and what happens when you get mauled by a werewolf or turned into a vamp, assuming they exist, what are they going to tell her then?"
Sam shrugged. "Killed in the line of duty, I guess."
"Killed in the line of—" Dean barked out a short, hysterical laugh. "Right, of course. How can you be so calm about this? How long have you been involved in this—this Supernatural thing."
Sam scratched the back of his head. "Basically, I've known about demons and stuff since I was a kid. The FBI had been interested in hiring me for this department, because I knew about everything already, since I was about seven."
"Seven!?" Dean asked, surprised.
Sam nodded and kicked some dirt around with the toe of his shoe. "Yeah my, uh, my parents got possessed by demons when I was a kid. I came home from school one day and their eyes were all black." He coughed and Dean started as he realized that Sam was trying not to cry. He knew that Sam's parents were dead and that was why he had joined the Bureau, but he had never asked how the people had died. "They didn't do anything, just…got in the car and left. About a week later their bodies washed up in a river halfway across the country. I read their case file when I joined up…they did some pretty messed up stuff when they were possessed, and even though I always tell myself that it wasn't my parents, that it was demons, I'll never be able to…unlearn some of this stuff."
"God, Sam, I'm so sorry."
Sam nodded mutely. "The agent that worked on their case, when I called the police, they sent him in. I didn't think anyone would believe me, but, he did. He kept in touch while I grew up. He died the year before I joined. Dean, I know that it's not easy to accept that there is something supernatural out there, but trust me when I tell you there is,"
"Trust you!" Dean snorted. "Sammy, you've been lying to me since the day we met."
Sam looked hurt. "I'm still your friend, Dean. I told Henry that I thought you'd be good for this job because you're willing to accept some pretty weird things. You're good with the weird cases."
Dean barked out another laugh. "So, what, are you telling me that Jo Harvelle got turned into a vampire or something and that's why I couldn't get any leads?"
Sam hesitated. "Actually, she got attacked by a ghost. But that's not important. Dean, look. I know this is hard to take in, but I think it's a good fit for you." He tentatively put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Now, do you want to go get a beer or something? Talk about this some more?"
Dean shook his head. "No, no. I'm good. I just want to go home and sleep on it."
Sam nodded. "Alright. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning and start showing you the ropes—and Dean?" He asked.
Dean glanced over at Sam. He wasn't sure how he viewed the kid anymore. Sure, Sam had always been a little goofy, but this new information shed a whole new light on him, and Dean didn't know what to think of this new image of his friend.
"Like it or not, you're probably going to get a partner, and that's another reason that I suggested you for this. You're a good agent, and I think you'll be able to…help out some newbies."
"Right. When I'm just going to be a newbie myself." He chuckled and started for the parking garage. "Goodnight, Sammy."
"Night, Dean."
Dean glanced over his shoulder at his friend, framed in the streetlights. Sam looked oddly forlorn against the backdrop of the empty city as he watched Dean walk away, and then Dean turned a corner and Sam was gone.
