Disclaimer: I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.
Summary: He had trusted them and they had all been using him all his life, every one of them from family to friends to higher powers. Not anymore, Dean decided. From now on he was only going to trust those who had been honest with him.
A/N: Here's Ch3. I first thought of naming the chapter "The Gambler", but I thought this one suited better. Dean may seem OOC in this story as well as reaching the status of uber-hunter, which might be a little off-putting, but that has been the point of it all. I'm trying to show what Dean might really become if he goes down that road, something that will never happen on the show itself.
Chapter 3. Kings And Queens
"Why not?" Dean shouted. "I'm the one who found the lead. I'm the one who figured it out. Don't you think you should trust me by now?"
"I do trust you." Samuel replied calmly, as if explaining things to a child. "But you don't follow orders, son. You remember what happened when we went after the alpha-vamp? I don't need a repeat performance."
"So you will trust a soulless guy over me?" Dean said, gesturing towards Sam who had been standing quietly beside Christian through the whole conversation.
"Sam's smart enough to follow my lead when he's supposed to. You are not." Samuel answered. "Look, you want my trust, you have to earn it and that means shutting up and staying put when I tell you to. Got it?"
"Sure." Dean replied in a surly manner. "Go ahead, get your werewolf third in command from the guy twice removed from the second in command from the Alpha. I'm sure he'll know where to find his boss's boss's boss."
"C'mon Sam, let's load up." Samuel said, still looking steadily at Dean. "We're losing daylight."
"Dean, it'll be fine, okay." Sam comforted, walking up to Dean. "We'll be gone for a day at max. Take some time off. I promise not to do anything you wouldn't."
"That's comforting." Dean said sarcastically, but his comment was lost as Sam walked out of the room leaving Dean behind with just Christian.
"You know, it's not that he doesn't trust you." Christian said as soon as the door closed behind Sam. "It's just, you are a liability, Dean. You will just be a burden on the hunt. He just puts up with you for Sam's sake. You should just hang back and sleep around with girls. That's what you do best, anyway."
"Thanks." Dean replied stonily, "I'll keep that in mind."
Exchanging one last hate-filled look, Christian left the room to join up with the others.
"'Need to talk to you asap. Come when I'm alone'." Crowley said waving his cell in front of Dean. "This has got to be the worst summoning in the history of demonic rituals."
"Whatever works, right?" Dean smiled back. "It got you here. I thought it was about time that us old friends had a sit-down. Care for a drink?" Dean finished offering Crowley a glass.
Crowley looked at the glass and then at Dean. "It's empty."
"Bobby said you preferred your own brew." Dean replied, setting the glass on the table. "Besides, you know you don't trust not to roofie you."
"True." Crowley agreed, taking out a flask from his jacket and pouring himself some of Scotland's finest. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"You know, you are just like the rest of the demons." Dean said. "You go on and on about how you are trying to make things better, but in the end, you are just as stubbornly set in your ways as the rest of them. You just don't see what would be best for your business, how to get the maximum out of your employees. You are all about the stick and no carrots."
"Is that so?" Crowley raised his brows. "Let me guess. You think that I should give Sam his soul back so he can work at his full potential."
"Not even close. Sam's the best hunter he can be right now and his soul isn't gonna improve that." Dean replied. "I was talking about me. You haven't been utilizing my real talents."
"That would be your granddaddy's job." Crowley said. "It's his ship and he can run it as he sees fit."
"And where has that gotten you?" Dean asked back. "He has been working for you for more than a year now and you have got jack-squat. The only thing he seems to be accomplishing is to prepare the things he hunts for the torture they are gonna get from your demons. That's one place I can be of real use to you, you know? I learned from the best."
"Alastair, huh?" Crowley reminisced fondly. "I have to admit, hell isn't the same without his – talent. And you were his star student. You broke more souls in your ten years than others did in hundred, combined. But tell me Dean, what's in it for you? You just looking for a chance to screw me over? Kill these things before I get a go at them?"
"And just where would that get me?" Dean replied. "If I wanted to screw you over, trust me, you'd be screwed. This is just me being a good employee."
Crowley sat quietly for a few moments thinking it over.
"I brought Samuel back for a reason, you know." He said after a few moments. "He knows a lot about the things you hunt. You think you can top that?"
"You ever see those old war movies." Dean replied. "They usually have these crack teams for special missions. And there are always guys with special talents, one is a very good fighter, other is a weapons expert and another has encyclopedic knowledge about everything. But none of them is ever the leader. The leader is the guy who can use all of them in the best way."
"You are right." Crowley said, setting down the now empty glass. "This is a very interesting proposition. But I think I'll stick with Samuel for now. You'd screw me over in a heartbeat if you get a chance."
"Any hunter would screw you over in a heartbeat, Fergus." Dean replied. "Better the devil you know that the devil you don't."
Crowley looked shrewdly at Dean for a moment, as if trying to read his mind and motives. Then a second later Dean was staring at an empty space. Sighing, he took Crowley's empty glass and put it in his bag.
"Who were you talking to?" A voice startled him from behind. It was Arlene, that dick Christian's wife. Dean had to admit, Christian must have had some redeeming qualities if he had landed someone like her.
"Bobby." He replied curtly.
"Thought I heard voices." Arlene said.
"I had him on speaker." Dean explained. "What are you doing here anyway? You got stuck with the reject?"
"Chris is trying to protect me." Arlene shrugged. "He doesn't want me mixed up in this stuff. He thinks I can't take care of myself."
"Yeah, I know how that feels." Dean smiled. So, apart from him and Gwen, Arlene had been judged as someone who needed protecting as well. But, they must be much nicer about it to them than him, he guessed.
"Care to join us for a drink." Arlene offered, half-halfheartedly. "Gwen raided Samuel's liquor cabinet and she seems to think that you got off on the wrong foot with all of us. So, I don't know, I guess this is some sort of bonding thing."
"Sure." Dean said, thinking it over. "Two beautiful girls offering drinks, how could I turn you down?"
"Bill, get that thing inside and be careful." Samuel ordered one of the hunters, getting out of the car. "Get him in the shed. We'll hand him over to Crowley after we work on him a bit. And don't let Dean see you."
Sam watched Bill lead the bound and blindfolded werewolf around the back. Taking his bags out of the trunk, he caught up to Samuel and Christian who were heading back into the base.
"You know, I think you should trust Dean with this stuff." He said. "That's the best way to get him to toe the line. Make him feel useful."
"That's not the point here and you know it." Samuel replied. "Dean is not strong enough to do what needs to be done, Sam. He's not like us. He's a wild-card."
Sam ignored Christian's smirk at those words. It was true. Of all the hunters Sam knew, Dean was the one who was so morbidly afraid of crossing the line that he never stepped anywhere near it. Walking into the front room they were greeted by the sight of Gwen lying unconscious on the floor.
"Gwen!" All of them dropped their bags in unison and rushed over to her. "Hey Gwen. Wake up. What happened?"
"She's alive." Samuel said, checking her pulse. "Christian, go check on Arlene."
No mention of Dean, Sam noted as Christian rushed off towards his quarters. Then his attention turned back to the woman on the floor as she groggily got up.
"Gwen, what happened here?" Samuel asked urgently.
"Relax, Gramps, its fine." She answered, rubbing her head. "Just had too much to drink last night. I got up to get some water at night and the floor just looked so comfortable. FYI, it's not." She said, rubbing a sore neck.
"You were drinking?" It should have been obvious, Sam thought. The smell of liquor was strong around her.
"Yeah. Fun times. Man, you brother can drink." She said to Sam.
Any comment Sam was about to make about his brother's alcohol tolerance were drowned in crashes and shouts coming from Christian's quarters. Confused, Sam and Samuel rushed towards the room with a disoriented and hung-over Gwen trailing behind.
"What the hell is going on here?" Samuel demanded, bursting into the room.
It didn't take a genius to figure that out, Sam thought. Dean was shirtless, with unbuttoned jeans and he had pinned a very red-faced Christian to the wall. Meanwhile, Arlene was hastily putting on her own clothes. Clearly, losing Lisa hadn't made Dean lose his touch with women.
"Let him go." Arlene shouted, her voice muffled from behind her top.
Immediately Sam rushed forward, pulling Dean off the irate husband.
"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch." Christian shouted, trying to get around Sam and at Dean. Samuel stepped in his way, holding him back.
"You gonna let him talk like that about your daughter?" Dean smirked at Samuel.
Ignoring any implied jab at his daughter's character, Samuel concentrated on keeping the two apart.
"What the hell were you doing, Dean?" He asked angrily; even though, by now he had figured it out as well.
"Just helping Chris here out." Dean said. Looking at the confused faces around him, he explained. "What? You all have been saying how much these two want kids. Clearly Christian here is not man enough for the job. I thought my swimmers could get the job done where his failed."
It took both Sam and Samuel to hold Christian back from his re-invigorated efforts to attack Dean, while the object of his ire calmly finished putting on the rest of the clothes.
"So, how did the hunt go guys?" Dean said, tying up his shoe-laces. "I'm dying to hear all about it."
"This is how you ingratiate yourself with your family?" Samuel shouted at Dean. "You sleep with your cousin's wife?"
Sam, Samuel and Dean were in the room that passed for his office, while Samuel railed at Dean. This was like a scene from their family, Sam thought, except then it was Dad doing the shouting and Sam doing the shouted at.
"It was a mistake, okay." Dean said, not looking the least bit guilty. "We got talking, we were both drunk, one thing led to another. You know how the story goes."
"Except, you are never out of control when you are drunk." Sam said. "You always know exactly what you are doing."
"What did you expect?" Dean shrugged. "You leave me behind with two hot chicks. Had to sleep with one of them. I have a reputation to maintain, you know?"
"Alright, that's it." Samuel slammed his hand hard on the desk. "You, get out of here. I don't care if you are Sam's brother, I don't care if you are Mary's son. I never want to see you again."
"What?"
"You heard me." Samuel said. "After this, you obviously can't work with either of them. It's you or them. Guess which one I'm gonna choose."
"Fine." Dean said, getting up. "Sam. Pack your bags. We are out of here."
"Sam stays." Samuel said. "Sam, you want your soul back, you have to work for Crowley. You have to stay with us."
"Sam." Dean said, watching Sam hesitate. "You choosing these guys over me?"
"I don't have a choice here, Dean." Sam replied. "Crowley's got my soul, so I have to stick around. You kind of brought this upon yourself."
"Samuel, don't do this." Dean said, turning back towards their grandfather.
"Don't tell me what to do, Dean." Samuel replied. "This is my ship and I get to decide who stays on it."
"Except, it's not really your ship, is it?" A voice said from behind Samuel. Crowley, in his usual manner, had dropped in the middle of a conversation. "It's my ship and I get to decide. And my decision is, Dean stays."
Samuel looked angrily from Crowley to Dean.
"You said I get a free reign in the operations." He snapped at Crowley. "I get to make the decisions."
"Things change." Crowley replied. "Or they don't, which is the problem here. You have been working for me for a year and I see no progress. You are wasting precious resources. Dean here thinks, and I agree, that it's time for a change in management."
"You went over my head?" Samuel turned towards Dean.
"Don't blame the boy. A lot goes over your head nowadays." Crowley said. "I'm just here to officially give the notice of your demotion and Dean's promotion. From now on, Dean will take the lead in finding purgatory for me and the rest of you will follow him. Don't look so down gramps." Crowley put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Knowing Dean, he'll give a plenty of chances to backstab him."
A moment later, once again it was just the three of them in the room. Dean walked around Samuel to his desk and sat down on the chair, arrogantly putting his feet on the table.
"So, it looks like I'm staying after all." He smirked. "This werewolf you caught, I think I'll try to get some stuff out of him. Samuel, why don't you run along and scrounge up as much silver as you can."
Samuel kept glaring daggers at Dean while Sam looked at Dean with something akin to respect.
"The boss has given his orders." Sam said, ushering Samuel out of the room.
"I can't believe we are working for that asshole now." Christian said, pacing around the room. Sam didn't even bother dignifying the outburst with a response and left his grandfather to deal with it.
"Calm down Christian." Samuel said soothingly. "Let him have his moment in the spotlight. It'll be over soon enough and then he'll be out of our lives for good."
"You think?"
"Dean might be good at the mind games but he is nothing special when it comes to hunting." Samuel explained. "He's brash and reckless. He's bound to screw up sooner or later."
"You shouldn't under-estimate Dean, you know?" Sam said looking up from his research. "People have been doing that his whole life, but in the end, he comes out at top."
"You saying he is a better hunter than us?" Samuel asked.
"I'm saying he's a better hunter that you give him credit for." Sam answered. "You said it yourself; he wasn't willing to do what it took. Now apparently he does. He hasn't screwed up in the last week, has he?"
It was true. Immediately after getting his promotion from Crowley, Dean had taken off alone on a hunt, apparently. He had left them with instructions to soften the werewolf up for him, to get any information they could. So far, they'd gotten nothing, not even a groan from out of the creature. As pecking orders went, this one was pretty high up in it. Unlike, newly created werewolves, he could transform at will and his transformed form was much more animalistic and lupine than any they'd seen before. And while usual werewolf stuff like silver harmed him, it was not enough to get him screaming in agony.
"Well, I don't know what your brother thinks he can get out of that thing inside." Christian said. "We have been working over it for a week, while your brother was off doing God knows what and we haven't heard a peep out of it."
As if on cue, screams started coming from the direction of the shed. Apparently Dean had succeeded in an evening where the rest had failed for a week.
"You probably loosened it for him." Sam smirked.
They sat quietly listening to the screams for a few minutes when Gwen came in, looking pale. She had the unhealthy green pallor of a person who had recently thrown up.
"Can I have a drink, guys?" She said, sitting down on the closest available chair.
"What happened? Thought you were helping Dean out with the werewolf." Samuel asked, while pouring her one.
"He told me to leave when he saw that I was about to throw up." Gwen explained. "Said he didn't need us looking weak in front of the enemy. And thank God for that. I'm not sure how much more I could have taken. The things he's doing in there - ."
"Huh." Samuel mulled it over. "Sam, why don't you go in there to help him out? You don't have a soul, so it shouldn't be a problem for you."
"Dean said that no one should disturb him." Gwen interjected.
"Just, go see if he needs anything."
"You want me to help you in back-stabbing my brother?" Sam asked.
"No one's back-stabbing anyone, Sam." Samuel explained. "Just want to make sure that Dean isn't taking it too far. But you raise an interesting point. When the chips fall, whose side do you want to be on, Sam?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, your brother is doing all this to get your soul back." Samuel said. "But I don't think you want it back, do you?" Sam said nothing. "Thought so. So you gotta ask yourself, who should you trust? Your brother who'll probably kill you as soon as he finds out that you like being soulless, or us, who don't care about that stuff?"
"I'll just see if Dean needs anything." Sam said, getting up and walking out of the room.
If he had a soul, he'd probably be throwing up on the floor right now, Sam thought. The room was a mess and the smell itself was enough to make a man's stomach revolt. What was truly horrifying, was the condition of the man strapped to the table. The werewolf was bleeding all over, courtesy of Dean and everyone who had been in there before him. Patches of his skin were missing from all over the body and shining silver powder was sizzling over the open wounds. There was a gaping hole where his lips once had been. They were now cut out, leaving his bleeding gums bared. Bleeding, Sam realized, because Dean had pulled out most of the fangs from his mouth. And what Sam had assumed to be werewolf eyes after transformation, was actually molten silver. Dean hadn't gouged it's eyes out, he had poured silver over it and was letting it eat its way through the skull.
"Is that what got him screaming?" Sam said, mildly curious.
"No. That would be the silver nitrate I injected in his blood." Dean replied. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see if you needed any help." Sam replied.
"I'm fine. Thanks." Dean said. "I got this covered. Get out of here."
"The Campbells aren't happy with you being in charge, you know?" Sam said conversationally. "I think that right now they are planning something to bring you down."
"I would expect nothing else." Dean replied. "Sam, if you want to help me, then go derail whatever they are planning."
Sam shrugged and walked out without another word. Dean thought he could handle everything on his own, but Sam knew that his brother was wrong. He just wasn't sure that when Dean went down, whether he would be going down with him.
"I'm so sorry about that." Dean said turning back to his victim. "My brother just doesn't know when he's not welcome."
"Please – please stop." The werewolf slurred through a broken mouth. "I'll tell you anything. Just please stop this."
"And we were having so much fun." Dean smiled. "Sorry, Lassie, but there isn't anything I want to know from you. All this – it was just a show for my friends."
"Please – no." He continued pleading, apparently not even listening to Dean anymore. "I don't know where our father is, but I have his blood. He has been building an army of pure-breeds. And his blood can be used to turn people as much as the bite. And these would be stronger, werewolves, those who could turn when they wanted. His – his blood was with my stuff back where your friends got me. It might still be there."
"I could use that." Dean said. "But don't tell me anymore. I really don't want to regret killing you."
"Please, I can give you a lot more."
Dean used an empty container that had previously contained the silver nitrate and collected some of the creature's blood in it.
"Sorry, Cujo." Dean said, positioning his silver knife over the thing's chest. "I got all that I needed from you."
"It's a lead, Dean."
"It's a blog entry." Dean said back to Christian. "A blog entry on weird dreams about a man who thought he saw a naked man turn into a family pet. It's weak."
"Well, I think that it's worth pursuing." Christian argued. "And since you killed the last Werewolf we brought in, this is all we have to go on."
"Fine, I'll look into it." Dean said, scrolling through the article. "Okay, you are right. This might be worth checking out. So, which one of you wants to take it?"
Dean looked around at the occupants of the room. Sam, Samuel, Gwen, Arlene and a few others were just sitting around, busy with their own thing. None of them gave any indication that they had even heard him.
"Well – we were thinking, since you have been out of the field for so long, maybe you should take it." Samuel said, looking up from the newspaper. "It shouldn't be too much for you to handle."
"Okay." Dean said suspiciously. "Where is this thing? In Chicago? I guess I'll head out in a few days. This thing's not going anywhere."
"Why wait?" Gwen piped in. "I mean, Crowley does have you on a schedule, doesn't he?"
"Jeez, fine." Dean answered, getting up. "I'll go. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you all were trying to get rid of me."
"And Dean, can you leave Sam behind?" Samuel asked. "We are doing some research on skin-walkers and Sam is good at that sort of thing."
"Sure." Dean answered and walked out.
It was happening already, Dean realized as he packed his duffel. The coup, the rebellion, whatever you might call it, they were starting with it and in a most obvious way. And apparently, he had no one watching his back.
"Dean, it will be fine." Sam said from behind him. "You can do it on your own."
"I know Sam." Dean replied. "That's not what I'm worried about. Tell me, how many skin-walkers do you think you will bag while I'm gone?"
"What?" Sam stiffened.
"All the hurry to get me out of here. They don't care about me catching the small fry, they want me out of the way so that you guys could go on your hunt in Atlanta." Dean replied. "People should really learn to clear their web history."
"You weren't supposed to know about that." Sam said, looking away.
"You weren't supposed to lie to me about that." Dean replied. "But this is good Sam. I finally know whose side you are on."
"Dean, I'm on your side." Sam said. "I really am. I'm just pretending to be on their team so that I can watch out for you. This one hunt isn't gonna change anything."
"It will. It already has." Dean replied. "See you in a few days time."
"Where the hell are you, Dean?" Sam shouted over the phone. "You should have been back by now."
"And hello to you too." Dean replied. "You bag any alphas?"
"No, just four walkers high up the food chain. We need you to interrogate them because we are not getting anywhere."
"Sam, can we talk about this when I get back?" Dean said. "I'm kind in middle of a business lunch right now."
"What? With whom?" Sam asked. "Where are you."
"At a pizzeria." Dean replied. "You don't come to Chicago and don't get a pizza. Talk to you later, okay?"
Cutting his cell off, Dean turned back towards his companion who was looking decidedly irritated.
"Sorry about that. Little brothers, y'know." Dean explained. "So you were saying?"
"I was saying, how humiliating it is to be summoned here by a maggot like you and I see no reason to let you continue with your life."
"And after I'm treating you with pizza?" Dean said in mock outrage. "Okay, okay, no more kidding. Look, I'm here to make a deal. I know that a lot of things are getting into the business of acquiring human souls. And I'm guessing, who else would be on the front of the line than Death himself."
Death considered Dean for a moment, as if undecided whether to just kill him now or explain the reasons of killing him. The smell of freshly arrived pizzas helped him make up his mind.
"I'm not in the business of acquiring souls, Dean." Death replied. "Unlike other things, I don't derive any power from them. Neither do any of the Gods for that matter."
"Oh." Dean seemed disappointed. "So what, you are just a way to get them to heaven or hell."
"Heaven? Hell?" Death scoffed. "Please. They are just temporary storage areas. They are not the final resting place."
"What?"
"Every soul has a claimant on it Dean." Death explained. "When demons get a claim on your soul, you go to hell, when angels do, you go to heaven. Unclaimed souls become ghosts. The work of a reaper is to get the soul to its right place."
"Which is where?"
"Imagine like a huge tankard of water." Death continued. "All of it can be said to be a single entity. But when you separate it into drops, each of them becomes a single entity as well. Souls are like that. Drops of water coming from a single source and there they must return. That is the reason why Gods exist. I'm not talking about the small fries who take sacrifices and control weather. I'm talking about true Gods, ones with the power of creation. They can create souls out of that mass of energy and it is the job of death to get it all back. Once they are back, no angels, or demons can bring it back to life. That is true death."
"Bang up job you are doing so far." Dean commented. "As far as I know, most of the people end up either in heaven or hell."
"In my absence, my workers have grown weak and incompetent." Death answered regretfully. "They have let too many souls slip through their fingers. Too many unclaimed or falsely claimed beings roam around. Those that they do get to in time, they now have to beg them to come with them, instead of forcing them like they should be able to. Trust me Dean, I have a lot of catching up to do."
Dean mused over the words for a moment, while Death ate pizza. This had not been part of his plan. But maybe, just maybe, this would work out even better.
"So, the reason I called you is that I need your help with something." Dean said and saw the other raise his eyebrows. "I don't know what it is yet or when I will need your help, but sometime, I'll call upon you and I want your word that you will help me out then."
"And why would I do anything like that?"
"Because, I stopped the apocalypse for you?" Dean replied. Watching no change in Death's expression, he continued. "Yeah, didn't think so. So, what about this?" Dean placed a vial of reddish liquid on the table.
"This is Enochian spell-work." Death said, picking up the vial and looking at it closely. "A spell lost even to most of the angels. It's impressive how you got your hands on it, but I fail to see this be of any use to me."
"Hey, don't knock it till you try it." Dean said. "No, seriously, try it. Drink it."
Still looking suspiciously at Dean, Death drank the contents. Dean was disappointed when he saw no change in Death's demeanor, he hadn't even blinked. Probably this thing didn't work on Death.
"Interesting." Death said after a few moments. "Yes, this is certainly very useful. I never imagined that this spell could be used in this manner. Thank you Dean, this was very helpful."
"So, we have a deal?" Dean sighed in relief.
"I'll do you one better." Death replied taking out his scythe and putting it on the table. "Keep it. I guess you can use it in your line of work. I'm always connected to this thing, so when you have a need for me, I'll come. But this is a once in a lifetime only card."
"I get it." Dean said, picking up the familiar rusted weapon. "Thanks. You won't regret it."
Things were going according to his plan – better than he had planned actually, Dean thought as he drove into the Campbell compound. Dealing with death had been risky and he had had nothing to go on than a hunch. But lady luck had finally smiled at him and even though his initial supposition had been wrong, the alternative was so much better. Now he wouldn't have to try and go after death when it was all over. One down, two more deals to go.
The Campbells would be a problem, he knew. Even now they probably were plotting something against him, now that they had caught some skin-walkers on their own. Unsurprisingly, Sam had chosen to side with them. Well, he wouldn't let any of their antics throw a cinch in his plans. His plans almost completely didn't require their help or Crowley's. As he had expected, Dean found Crowley waiting for him with Campbells and Sam when he got inside and the Campbells looked smug for some reason.
"Conference call, is it?" Dean asked walking in casually and pouring himself a drink.
"Yes." Crowley replied good-naturedly. "So, you enjoy your long trip. I hope the stupid business of catching the monster didn't get in your way."
"Not at all." Dean answered. "Got something for you. A skin-walker. Not very high up on the food chain, mind you."
"One skin-walker?" Crowley stood up scowling. "You took more than a week to catch one measly skin-walker, while the rest of your people got me four in less than that time? I'm really beginning to rethink my decision to put you in charge."
"Well, if you look at the ratio, I still come out at the top." Dean replied. "Look, I wanted to take the rest of them on this trip, but they were so obsessed with their other hunt that they missed out on this lead."
"What lead?" Christian piped in. "I just gave you this piss-ant hunt to get you out of the way."
"Elders are talking here." Dean said, without looking at him. "And this wasn't just any skin-walker. Christian here didn't do his research very well. I found out that a man matching the description of the naked guy the blogger saw in his home, that is they were both naked, had a beard and a weird scar over their eye like the pet dog, was hit by a car a few days ago. Technically, dead on the scene. Then the paramedics shocked him back to life. Who knew, huh? Skin-walkers can become roadkill. They are more like humans than you can imagine."
Dean ignored the general sound of scoffing that passed around in the room.
"Is that supposed to impress me?" Crowley sneered.
"You are not thinking, dude." Dean replied. "Tell me, who better to tell you the location of the purgatory than something that's already been there, for all of sixty seconds."
Whatever snide remark Crowley was going to make died on his lips as his eyes widened in interest. Dean had him and he knew it. Looking around the room, Dean knew that he had others as well.
"Has he told you anything?" Crowley asked.
"No." Dean replied. "And I don't think he remembers. But you must have a lot of mind-readers and psychics who can work him over. Why don't you let them ferret it out of him?"
"I'll do that." Crowley answered. "Keep him and the rest of them tight for a few days, will you? I'll pick them up once I have everything in place. Good job, Dean. As for you," Crowley turned towards Samuel. "Make sure that the next time you call me here, you are not putting your foot in your mouth."
Everyone sat silently for a few minutes after Crowley disappeared. The Campbells did not like being one-upped. He wondered for a moment if they would all kill him right there and if Sam would put up any kind of attempt to help him.
"So, a brought-back-to-life skinwalker, huh?" Samuel said. "Nice catch."
"Hey, Christian did all the work." Dean replied. "He was the one who found all the articles. He just had no clue what he was looking at."
"You could have told us." Sam said.
"And take away your chance at backstabbing me? No." Dean mocked. "Since I'm still in charge for now, Chris, why don't you go and get that thing out of my trunk. You and Arlene can stand guard over them tonight. It'll give you some time to work on your marital issues."
It was obvious that Christian had to physically restrain himself from attacking Dean right there. Nodding curtly, he walked out of the door. Everyone else just dispersed without a word. Everyone, except for Sam.
"You could have told me, you know?" Sam said walking up to him. "I would have kept it a secret for them."
"Trust you, huh?" Dean replied. "That hasn't worked out for me in the past."
"I know. Dean, since I don't have a soul, the only thing I'm worried about is my survival. I thought that my best chance was with them. But I get it now, it's with you. You are the one who is most capable of protecting me."
"How generous of you." Dean sneered. "But don't think that I still want to, Sam. Don't believe that it's not too late for you now."
Everything was coming along nicely, Dean thought. His plan was progressing and no one had a clue about his real intentions. The Alpha-hunt that Crowley had them on, he had no idea how it was working out in Dean's favor. He still had a long way to go, though, Dean thought as he looked into the little box he had kept hidden below the backseat of his car which contained little vials of blood from monsters, all neatly labeled. There were still too many variables. He would have to convince her to do this for him and he didn't even know if she could. But all in all, it was going well. Things were different now that he wasn't doing regular hunts. He could, for once, focus on the matter at hand. If he hadn't been so distracted by the whole saving people shtick back when yellow-eyes was around, he could have killed him long ago. Dad had never realized what Dean could do if he set his mind to it. Too bad he wouldn't be around to see that.
This plan wasn't all that likely to succeed, Dean knew that. By now he had only collected the blood of a handful of Alphas. The vampire and werewolf had been the easiest. He had gotten his hands on the ghoul, siren, lamia, ookami, shapeshifter and revenant alphas as well. The skin-walkers would probably be the next. By now he had collected some thirty odd Alpha blood samples by now. Most of the things had escaped or were just too strong to capture. Others, he had let escape because catching them would mean furthering Crowley's plans. Others yet had been killed. All in all, it was surprising how Crowley still believed that Dean was working for him. Besides, not all monsters had Alphas, he'd learned that much. The Wendigoes were simply mutated humans and some of the others, like Rakshasas, were too ancient to have one. But still, even if he could get the ones he collected, it would strike a major blow at all things supernatural.
"Little busy here, Cas." Dean said as he heard a flutter of wings behind him and hurriedly put the box back in the car. "Can you come back later?"
"Really, it's offensive how you can't tell us angels apart." A British accent said from behind him. "It's like we are Chinese."
"Balthazar." Dean said, turning around. "Finally showed up, huh? I've praying for weeks."
"I know." Balthazar replied. "I heard you. Don't know why you called me though. We didn't exactly part on the best terms last time."
"Don't worry, this isn't a trap." Dean assured.
"I made sure of that before I came." Came the reply. "So, what do want from me Dean?"
"You still in the weapon trade business?" Dean asked, although he already knew the answer. "Tell me, how much is one of your WMD's worth these days."
"For you Dean, a hundred souls." Balthazar replied.
"And how much is that in monster souls?" Dean asked. "You know, vampires, werewolves and the like."
"I've never traded in those before." He answered, thinking it over. "But they are pretty close to human souls. So, I'm gonna say, let's see, two hundred."
"Done." Dean said. "I'm gonna need something from you. I think it's called the Key of Solomon. Looks like a ring and controls angels."
"Wait a minute." Balthazar interrupted. "You are telling me that you will give me two hundred souls? That's impossible Dean. Even if you knew how, you couldn't have collected them in your life of hunting."
"I'm not." Dean replied. "I don't actually have the souls in my possession."
"I don't give credit either." Balthazar said. "I'm not going to just give you the ring in the hope that you'll keep up your end of the deal."
"I don't expect that." Dean answered. "The souls are ready for delivery, you just have to go pick them up. I think you can manage that on your own."
"You know of some place that has two hundred souls, untouched and unmarked by any others?" Balthazar asked disbelievingly.
"Sure do." Dean replied, taking out a vial of reddish liquid from his jacket and twirling it around. "How many souls do you think are there in the Purgatory?"
"You are joking." Balthazar replied. "The location of the purgatory has been lost for millennia. Not even Michael knew of it. There is no way a lowly human like you could have found it out."
"Haven't we learned our lesson about underestimating humans yet?" Dean asked. "I know where the Purgatory is. Or atleast I can tell you. So, do we have a deal or not?"
"You are giving me the whole purgatory for one measly ring?" Balthazar mocked. "And I thought that getting just one year for Sam was the low point of your business sense. Fine, you have a deal." Balthazar disappeared for a moment and then reappeared and gave a ring to Dean. "Here you go. Now, care to keep up your end of the bargain?"
"Not so fast." Dean said, putting on the ring. "Tell me something, what's to stop me from using this ring and making you kill yourself right now?"
"That would be very unsporting of you, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, it would." Dean agreed. "But not out of character. You would never hand it over if it could do something like that. C'mon dude, hand over the instruction manual."
Balthazar sighed. "The ring just gives you a measure of control over an angel's grace." He explained. "You can summon an angel using it, but that's about it. You try making him do your bidding and they'll most probably kill you on the spot."
"So, it can't actually control angels?" Dean asked.
"Not really, no." Balthazar agreed. "And try not to summon any dead angels with that thing. The last guy who did that was turned into a shish-kabob."
"Why?"
"An angels grace is never lost Dean." Balthazar answered. "It's left in the world, scattered around. So when you call upon a dead angel, all that grace comes rushing to you. You have any idea what that much energy can do at one place."
"So you are telling me that apart from summoning angels, this thing is pretty much useless and a health hazard?"
"Told you that you made a bad bargain, Dean." Balthazar smirked. ""But a deal's a deal. No take-backs."
"I know." Dean said. "Here, drink this." Dean handed over the vial to the angel.
"What's this?" Balthazar said looking curiously at the liquid inside.
"The location of the Purgatory." Dean replied. "It's an ancient Enochian spell which traces the soul of a person if you have the body. It contains the blood of a recently deceased werewolf. Ergo, when you drink it, you'll know where the Purgatory is as well."
"That's impressive." Balthazar said. "Especially for a human. Tell me Dean, how many more are you going to sell this information to? Because this truly is very valuable and I don't want any competition when I get there."
"There won't be." Dean assured. "I'm not gonna give this to anyone else. I promise."
"It looks like you are telling the truth." Balthazar judged after looking at Dean shrewdly. "Alright, nice doing business with ya. Enjoy your – ring."
Crowley was furious. In Dean's opinion, he looked even madder than he had when Lucifer was on his ass. To be fair, the man had sported the haggard look of a hunted man even when he had arrived to pick up the prisoners.
"You let them escape?" He shouted at Dean. "How could you let them escape? Four skinwalker, three of whom knew the location of their Alpha and one of whom probably knew the location of the Purgatory and you let them get away from right under your nose."
"It's not my fault." Dean defended. "Christian and Arlene were supposed to be guarding them. They are the ones who let them get away."
"Then it's your fault for putting those incompetent buffoons there in the first place." Crowley replied. "You know, I'm this close to just ripping you apart right now."
"Will you relax." Dean said. "We'll get them back."
"Yes you will." Crowley agreed. "You know why? Because you won't be in charge to screw it up any more. Try not to look so happy the rest of you." Crowley said to the rest of the room. "Humans. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you all let those things go on purpose just to screw over Dean."
"None of us would do that." Samuel defended. "We won't risk the operation like that. Besides, Dean was the one who made sure that they were secure."
"Did he now?" Crowley said, looking at Dean. "I know that you guys didn't do it, because you know what'll happen if you screw me over. Dean here is the only one stupid enough to pull something like this off, but he'd kill them before letting them escape. Which leaves just you, Sam."
"I didn't let them go." Sam said. "Really, I wasn't even anywhere near them the whole time."
"It wasn't Sam. Trust me." Dean added.
"Guess, we'll never know, will we?" Crowley replied. "One thing is for certain, your time on the top is over Dean. Time to step down now."
"C'mon Crowley, we both know the truth." Dean said. "You never intended to keep me here in the first place. You were probably looking for the replacement the moment you put me in charge. You actually have nothing on me. All you can do is threaten Sam and you know that that will take you only so far."
"True." Crowley smirked. "I was hoping to get something else to blackmail you with. But you have been quite the loyal employee Dean."
"So who is it?" Dean asked. "Who is taking my place now? I know it's not Samuel, because you already tried that and it got you nowhere. Gwen became the mother of an Antichrist. Christian and Arlene let your best ticket to the Purgatory get away. And Sam is still following my lead, if only on the surface. The others, they don't even qualify. So who will it be?"
"None of you. I'm bringing some fresh talent from outside." Crowley replied. "You can come in now." He shouted at the door.
The man, who had apparently been listening to the whole conversation from the outside, stepped in, sending all the occupants in the room into a stunned silence. He hadn't changed a bit since Dean had last seen him. The same scraggly, unshaven scruff covering the face, the stoop of the shoulders as if carrying the weight of the world, the weary smile and tired expression on the face. None of it had changed a bit.
"Who the hell are you?" Christian asked, stepping forward.
"Dad?" Sam and Dean said in unison.
"Hello, Sam. Dean." John Winchester replied.
Okay, Ch3 done. I was gonna take the story further, but this seemed like such a perfect point to end it. A few comments though. I know I used the ring of Solomon and the Scythe in my last fic as well, but those two ideas are like my favorite. The scythe just seems so much more powerful than the colt, being able to kill reapers and angels as well. I really think they should have explored the possibility of it killing Lucifer. As for the seal, it's from a childhood story by Rudyard Kipling (I think), where Solomon uses the ring to summon angels, demons, djinns and ifreets. I know the lore about it says that it could probably only summon demons, and in the show the seal is used as a devil's trap, so I'm depowering the ring a lot in this fic. Still, I'm going to give Dean a new and interesting way to use it. As for Balthazar's comment, I really meant no offence to any Chinese people, but in my understanding it is a running gag in America that all Asians look alike. Hopefully, since I know where the story is going next, the next chapter won't take so long. Review if you like it and review if you don't.