Fifteen minutes later, after following Gibbs and the others in the Impala, the brothers found themselves in the Gibbs family's kitchen, helping prepare dinner. It was almost surreal.
As soon as they'd stepped in the door, Gibbs had started directing people on their tasks for the meal. Actually, more like just Dean and Andy. The others all seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Maybe team dinners were a routine? Because, as Dean had found out, they were a team. A federal one. And wasn't that just fantastic! He didn't want to even start thinking about how and why their father had trusted a bunch of feds more than his own sons. Judging by the way Andy was tearing into the chicken breasts for the stir-fry, it seemed the only thing his brother was thinking about.
"So how exactly did dad get mixed up with a bunch of feds?" he asked, simultaneously hoping to distract his brother and get them some answers.
Over at the counter, Kels, short for Kelly, laughed. "Oh, that's always a fun story."
Tim, aka 'Probie', looked up from where he was stirring the sauce. "I don't think I've actually heard that story yet."
"Oh! Storytime," Tony, spike hair, piped up from beside Tim at the stove where he was working on the rice. "Let's all gather around Papa Bear!"
Dean snorted, looking to the 'Papa Bear' in question who happened to be squatting beside him before the fireplace where they were cooking some beef and pork for the stir-fry. The man simply quirked his lip into a mildly amused smile and shook his head as he continued tending to the meat
"You are lucky I cannot hit you from here," Ziva, the brunette, told Tony. She and Kelly were chopping up vegetables. Dean wasn't sure if the way the Israeli handled her knife was hot or mildly threatening. Probably a bit of both.
"Hey! Boss said no more threatening with sharp objects!"
"I was not threatening you with a sharp object, Tony; you have not annoyed me nearly enough for that."
Kelly laughed beside her, clearly enjoying the banter. Apparently, this exchange wasn't a one-time thing.
"I met John after he tried to impersonate a federal agent in order to get in to see a dead sailor of ours," Gibbs explained, bringing attention back to Dean's question. This drew both Andy and Tim's attention, both turning slightly in curiosity. Tony reached up to smack Tim upside the head, another exchange that seemed to happen frequently. Tim took the hint and turned back to his task, though his attention was clearly still on Gibbs.
The elder continued. "He somehow made it into the building and down to autopsy. Ducky, our ME-"
"Wait," Andy cut him off. "You have someone named 'Ducky' working with you?"
"It's a nickname," Gibbs answered drily, clearly not enjoying being interrupted. Dean swore he saw the other four smiling as the man continued once more. "Ducky caught on that he wasn't actually an agent, mostly because he was claiming to be FBI and they had no involvement in that particular case. He was planning on calling security when John started asking questions that were similar to the sort of things we look for in a potential case of the supernatural. He called me instead. John was skeptical at first that I was a hunter, but he eventually came around. I kept him in the loop on the case and we took out the creature together. A pagan god, actually. He and his girlfriend were part of a fertility ritual sacrifice a town did every year to ensure they had a good harvest."
"How'd you get into hunting if you're a fed?" Andy asked. He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. Rule number one of hunting: never ask another hunter how they came to be one.
Gibbs didn't seem upset, however, as he answered. "My old man was a hunter. So was my grandpa and my great grandpa."
"Family business, then," Dean commented.
"That's pretty accurate," Kelly commented before her dad could. "It's somewhere around four generations or so."
"What about the rest of you guys?" Andy glanced around at the three other agents in the room. "Were you guys hunters before you joined NCIS?"
"Not so much a hunter as someone who saw a lot of weird shit and had a vague idea of what was out there," Tony explained. "I was a Baltimore cop before Gibbs picked me up. He filled in the blanks."
"I'm still really new to all of this," Tim put in. "I didn't know any of this was real until after I joined Gibbs's team. I was more than a little skeptical when they explained it after my first case with a monster."
"But then you actually saw the bastard and nearly wet yourself," Tony recalled, laughing. Tim glared at him but didn't deny it. Dean was so getting that story later.
"Ziva?" Andy prompted. Dean watched as the Israeli continued her chopping in silence for several moments.
"In Mossad, I learned that not everything could be explained by...natural occurrences," she finally said. "I was surprised to learn that there were people who were aware of that and knew the intimate details of such things."
"I think Ziva actually had the least reaction," Tony added. "She just sort of accepted it all and moved on. The rest of us had a bit of coming to terms to do."
Before the conversation could continue, there was the sound of a motorcycle approaching outside. It stopped in front of the house and the engine cut off. Sam walked in the door not long after, helmet in hand. He placed it on the table just inside the door and moved into the living room.
"Sam, set the table," Gibbs told his son. The young man nodded and moved to do that as everyone else combined the fruits of their labors into a large skillet which Gibbs commandeered. Within a few minutes, they were all seated around the table, a generous helping of the stir-fry before each member.
Gibbs sat at one head of the table, his back to the kitchen. To his right sat Sam with his sister across from him. Down the line from Sam were Tony and then McGee. Kelly had Ziva beside her and then Andy, leaving Dean to sit at the other head. With the exception of Sam and Ziva who stopped to silently pray, everyone dug in. Dean subconsciously looked to his brother, not surprised to see the younger Winchester pause for a quick second to give his own prayer.
When all three had officially finished and joined in eating, Dean decided to get the ball rolling. "What exactly do you guys know about Yellow Eyes?"
"For one, that's not his actual name," Sam offered.
"His real name is Azazel," Tony added around a mouthful of food. "He's a Prince of Hell and also kind of the ruler down there."
"At least, that's what we've gotten from his lackeys," Kelly pitched in.
"Prince of Hell?" Andy questioned. "So he's one of the first demons?"
"Yes, which makes him incredibly more powerful," Ziva confirmed.
"So what does he want with m-the kids?" Andy questioned, glaring at his brother to let him know that the kick to the shin had been entirely unnecessary to stop his slip-up.
When Dean looked back up the table, he found Gibbs eyeing him impassively. He tried to keep his fist from clenching around his fork, instead meeting the other man's eyes steadily, almost daring him to comment.
"From what we've gathered, he's trying to create a general," Gibbs answered, continuing to stare down Dean. "Someone who is human enough to go where demons can't, yet powerful enough to command demons alongside him."
"Why? Does he want to start a war?" Andy asked. If Dean hadn't practically raised the kid since he was six, he never would've picked up on the undercurrent of anxiety in his brother's tone. He certainly doubted the others had, though it wouldn't surprise him if Ziva was the exception.
"Eventually," Gibbs confirmed. "But he wants to raise Lucifer first."
Silence fell over the table as the brothers processed that, the faint clinking of silverware on plates barely registering with them.
"Holy shit," Andy breathed. Dean set down his fork and reached for his brother's left hand, wrapping it in his and squeezing steadily until the younger looked at him. He didn't say anything, just looked the kid in the eye until he seemed to calm somewhat. He nodded in thanks and Dean turned back to face Gibbs. The man didn't seem the slightest bit surprised by the situation, and things clicked into place.
"You know," Dean stated.
Gibbs nodded. "Your brother's not the only one in this room."
Dean glanced to the others sitting around the table until his eyes settled on Sam. He remembered the exchange the younger Gibbs had had earlier with his older sister. "You too?"
Sam nodded. "Started a couple months ago."
"So did mine." Andy paused, clearly wanting to add something but unsure how it would be taken.
Sam seemed to catch on. "No, neither of my moms died in a fire, nursery or otherwise."
"Moms?" Dean couldn't help but question.
"I'm adopted," Sam explained. "My birth parents were both killed in a home invasion when I was four. My adopted mom, Shannon, was murdered."
He said it like he was just stating a fact, which he was, but even Dean could tell the events still upset him. His dad and sister seemed to have dropped in their moods as well.
Andy cringed apologetically. "Sorry, man; we shouldn't have asked."
Sam shrugged. "Why not? It was a long time ago and you guys were curious. Best to just get things out in the open now."
Andy nodded, shoulders relaxing. "So, we both have powers. What do you have?"
"I get visions."
"Seriously? That's awesome, dude."
"Not really. They always involve death and they hit me like a friggin' truck."
"Wow, that seriously sucks ass," Andy groaned.
Sam laughed. "Understatement. What about you?"
Andy grinned. "Mind control."
"You're kidding me." Sam leaned forward. Andy shook his head, still smiling.
"Watch this." He turned to Dean. The older Winchester glared at him, but before he could tell his brother to 'fuck off', Andy met his eyes and said: "Grab a roll."
Said rolls were sitting before Ziva, just out of Dean's reach. Regardless, Dean stood smoothly and reached over to grab one before straightening. Andy reached up and plucked the still warm biscuit from his hand, munching happily away on it. Dean glared down at him and took his seat again as Sam released a laugh.
"That's amazing!"
Andy grinned again, this time more sheepish. He'd always been a little awkward when it came to praise.
"Not funny, dude," Dean growled, reaching over to cuff his head. Andy scowled and batted his hand away, earning the two brothers laughs from around the table.
"Hope you guys don't mind sharing a bed," Sam said, flicking on the light in the guest bedroom as he led the Winchester brothers in.
"It's fine," Andy answered gratefully. "We're just happy to avoid a shitty motel."
Dean snorted but didn't disagree as he dropped his bag at the foot of the bed. Sam remained in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, until both brothers were facing him once more.
"If you need anything, Kels and I are just across the hall." He jerked a finger over his shoulder. "Dad's at the end and bathroom's back towards the stairs."
"You're sharing a room with your sister?" Andy asked curiously.
"It's only temporary; her apartment complex had water main burst, so she's crashing here for a little while," Sam replied, shrugging nonchalantly. Dean felt like there was an underlying reason but didn't pry.
"Alright, I'll see you guys in the morning then." Sam gave a little wave then turned and left, the sound of a door closing a few seconds later. Dean grabbed a pair of sweats and headed to the aforementioned bathroom. By the time he'd done his business and returned, Andy had already changed and was sitting on top of the covers, cellphone to his ear.
Dean closed the door behind him as Andy lowered the phone, his shoulders stiff and his face scrunched in frustration.
"He still won't answer," the younger grumbled before he could ask. Not that Dean had really needed to; he had planned on trying to call their dad himself after he managed to psych himself up for the inevitable failure.
He made his way over to the bed after turning off the light, the bedside lamp lighting his surroundings. "Anything new on the voicemail?"
Andy shook his head, his anger slowly fading to dejection. Dean dropped onto the bed beside his little brother, giving no resistance as the brunette leaned over the small distance to rest his head on the elder's shoulder.
"This fucking sucks," he mumbled after a few moments of silence, earning a snort from above him.
"Understatement," Dean agreed. "How're you holding up?"
"Well, I just found out that the demon who killed my parents apparently wants me to become part of his army and raise the Devil, which is awesome." Andy let loose a shaky sigh. "What're we supposed to do, Dean?"
"We find him." Andy glanced up at him curiously, Dean tilting his head to meet those chestnut eyes as he encircled his little brother's shoulders with his arm, holding him close. "We find him and we send that bastard so far into the depths of Hell that no one can ever bring his smoky ass back up."
