Chapter 4:

(Present)

"This had better be good." John heard from behind him.

Turning around, he came face to face with the barrel of a gun, on the other side stood his oldest. Who, by the way, did not look happy, and more ready to kill him if he made any sudden moves.

Slowly, John raised his hands in the air, the entire time looking his son in the eye. Knowing that it was the best way to keep Dean from firing his gun. He kept his hands up as he turned around, facing his youngest, taking in every new detail in his face that wasn't there before.

Sam stepped out of the door, and John noticed another person who had been hiding on the other side of the door walk out as well. He looked John up and down with a critical eye. His blue eyes piercing, John felt, into his very soul. As he stepped closer, John felt a sharp pain on the top of his hand. Looking down, he found a small cut on his hand, and the man was pulling away a silver blade. John had to admit, the guy was quick, he hadn't even seen the movement. John was impressed, until he got hit with the soap water, then he was just confused.

"Well, Cas?" He heard his oldest ask from behind him. "Is he a shifter, or a Demon?"

"Neither, he is human. Completely." The man, Cas, answered. Taking his eyes off John for a moment to give Dean a look.

"You're sure?" Sam asked.

"Positive." Cas answered. "I don't know how. Don't even want to contemplate why, honestly. But he's real." He finished, turning around and patting Sam on the shoulder as he re-entered the facility.

"Alright, inside before somebody sees us just standing out here." Dean said, giving John a small push on the shoulder to coax him inside.

When John stepped inside, he had to stop again to take everything in. The place was huge, with a staircase going down to the main area. John saw several hallways leading into other areas. He noticed the old archways leading into a library, where John could tell from there, the books where old. He noticed quite a bit of furniture that was old when he was young situated in various places through out the bunker.

"I have to admit boys, I'm impressed." John said, following Sam down the stairs. "Where'd you find this place anyway?" He asked, turning around to see his children share a look. "Well?"

"During a hunt." Dean answered. "We where tracking a Demon, and it was looking for a key to this place. We found this place before it got here, then just kinda stayed. It's perfect for us. It's a warehouse for all supernatural research the past thousand years. Kinda our headquarters now."

"Headquarters?" John asked skeptically. "Since when is hunting an operation that requires a Headquarters?"

"Well, to be honest, it more or rather has been for years. I mean Bobby kind of acted as a dispatcher." Sam started. "But no, we just needed a place to stay, and this place is cozy. It's actually a pretty sweet deal. Someone needs to keep this place up and running. We still go on hunts, but it's nice to know what your coming home to."

"I get that." John admitted. "But what about you?" He asked turning to Castiel. "You work with them and just decided to stay here."

"For the time being." Castiel answered, moving to stand next to Dean.

"What does that mean?" John asked.

"I'm here for more moral and emotional support." Castiel started, before Dean cut him off.

"That's not important. We should be the ones asking the questions here anyway." Dean said, getting off the wall he had leaned against. "Like why your here, how you found us, or, and this is just off the top of my head. How are you alive again?"

"I don't know." John answered.

"You don't know?" Dean repeated. "Nothing to give you any indication. I mean, nothings tried to contact you? Nothing left anything on your skin to mark you in any way?"

"No." John answered. "Not that I know of."

"Does that mean you didn't check, or do you not want to tell us?" Dean asked.

"I haven't exactly had the time, and where do you get off, with that attitude?" John asked, voice raising.

"Since you've been dead for nearly ten years, and I know that coming back usually comes with a price. Secrets in this family are usually what gets other people killed, and we've uncovered enough of yours in the past few years, that I'm inclined to never trust what you tell me again." Dean answered, his voice rising with every sentence. His gun still in his hands.

"I never kept secrets from you." John lied. Earning a snort from Dean.

"Really, your gonna try that? Well, just to give you an idea about what we've learned since you've been gone." Dean started, smile on his face. "Let me see, Adam comes to mind, though now you don't have to worry about him, seeing as how he's been dead for about four years. Or what about the fact that Mom was a hunter when she was younger. Or, maybe I feel justified considering the huge bomb you dropped on me right before that Demon took your life and soul. Or maybe, we can call up some of your old girlfriends, you know, the ones that knew more about what you did then we did." He finished, his voice full of resentment.

"Dean, I can understand that your upset about me not telling you about certain aspects of my job." John started before Dean continued.

"Certain aspects of the job you forced us into. You abandoned us on a number of occasions because of your job." Dean said, moving into his fathers space.

"Dean." Sam said, pulling him back. "Why don't you go calm down. I'm sure if you stop to think about what your doing, you know this isn't you." He continued, pointing Dean in the direction of his room.

"I'm not a child Sam." Dean argued.

"Sure acting like it." John said, anger in his voice.

"Your not helping." Sam said, turning on his father. "Cas, do you think you could help Dean calm down while I talk to Dad, and see if I can catch him up on everything from the past few years." Sam suggested.

"Of course." Castiel agreed, putting a hand to Dean's shoulder and steering him in the direction headed into the back.

"I'll take care of this." Sam said, running his hand over his face, then turning to his father. "Let me, go make some coffee. This is going to take awhile." He said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen, in a gesture for his father to find a seat.

"Where'd they go?" John said, pointing to the direction Dean and Cas had left in.

"Gun room, or gym area." Sam answered, looking in the direction they left. "I promise I'll give you the tour later. I just need some coffee first, it's been a long day." He said, walking in the direction of the kitchen.


"What the Hell, Cas?" Dean said, slapping Castiel's hand away from his shoulders. The guy was strong, and held on a lot more tightly then he let on. Dean wouldn't be surprised if he had another hand-shaped bruise there.

"I did not believe you would have come willingly. I'm sorry." Castiel apologized. "But you seemed to need a chance to collect your thoughts."

Dean walked away, and looked around. He noticed that Castiel had dragged him to the room they used for firing practice. Walking over to the place they kept the guns, he picked up an automatic and walked over to the targets. Taking aim he started firing blanks in order to avoid wasting ammo. Working off his anger with every shot.

"I thought this would help. You have been filled with violent energy lately. This seemed an appropriate outlet." Castiel said, leaning up against the wall.

"Yeah, well, it's not gonna do much for my anger issues with him here, and you guys won't let me out for a hunt. I guess that means I'm gonna be spending most of my time in here." Dean said, putting more bullets into the gun.

"Well, if you feel you need a form of physical exertion, I'm here for you." Castiel said, making Dean nearly drop the gun.

"What?" He asked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheek. Did Castiel hear his thoughts earlier, was he proposing what he thought he was. "You wanna run that by me again."

"Well, I do have years of experience in hand to hand combat, and I'm in fairly good shape. If you decide you need a sparing partner or anything, I can help." Castiel answered, tilting his head to the side in that way that Dean has come to recognize as his way of saying, 'I'm confused'. "What did you think I meant?"

"Uh...That, yeah, that's what I thought you where talking about. It just caught me off guard." Dean said, taking aim again. Mind running with what he was really thinking about. Of course Cas was thinking about sparing with him, and not the hot sweaty and fun kind of physical exertion. The image penetrated his mind then, and he figured he should probably keep his mind off that when he missed his shot. "Damn it."

He could feel Castiel watching him from the side of the room. The guy never seemed to blink, and that was just freaking intimidating. He felt sorry for anyone else to have to deal with that stare. His father would most definitely not like that. He relied on people's blinks to figure out when they where vulnerable while fighting.

'Yeah, this is gonna be fun.' Dean thought sarcastically taking aim with his gun again.


"Your wanna run that by me again son?" John said, staring at his youngest across the table in disbelief.

Sam, for his part, looked as if he was trying his best to keep his face friendly and honest. The freshly brewed coffee in his hands rapidly cooling. The pot sitting between the two, on an oven mit, with an empty cup next to it, waiting for John to get himself a cup. He had attempted to explain everything to his father slowly, and give him the cliff notes version. But John had started in on Castiel immediately.

"The Apocalypse." Sam repeated. Smile staying on his face, looking incredibly forced.

"Have you been hit in the head?" John asked, seeming concerned for his child.

"Yes, several times. But that has nothing to do with this." Sam started. "Now, before you start asking more questions, and thinking I've lost my mind. Just sit and listen for a moment. I know it's not your favorite thing to do. Okay, cause you have been dead ten years, and a lot of stuff has happened." Sam started, holding up a hand to stave off any rebuttal from his father.

"Okay, like what?" John asked.

"Well, let's see. A year after you died, we managed to kill the Demon." Sam started, peaking his fathers interest. "I mean, yeah, in the process, I may have been kidnapped, killed, and brought back by Dean selling his soul. But we got him." Sam reasoned at his fathers look of horror and outrage.

"Wait, what do you mean you died and Dean sold his soul. Contracts only last for ten years, is he gonna get hunted down any day now or something?" John asked, his mind going into a panic. He just came back, his kid can't die just when he got back.

"No, no, Dad." Sam said, giving his dad a calming gesture. "Dean's contract was only for a year, and he's already been taken to Hell." Sam elaborated, but it did not have the calming effect on his father he wanted, so he continued. "Which is where he met Cas." Sam said, pointing in the direction they had disappeared from. "Cas has quite a bit of knowledge on the subject and offered to help. In return for helping him with a couple of things as well, of course."

"Samuel, please tell me that you didn't make a deal with another monster to save your brother." John pleaded. This whole family was full of self-sacrificing idiots. He could see the guy being a well hidden monster, he was just too stiff.

"No, Dad. I didn't, and Cas is not a monster." Sam added as an afterthought. "He just needed a hand with something, and it's a good thing he was the one that found us to help, or we might not be here anymore. Hell, the world my not even be here anymore." Sam said, seemingly talking more to himself towards the end. His mind working fast, deciding it was best to keep Cas' true identity a secret until their father had warmed up to him a bit.

"What?" John asked.

"Well, Cas had stumbled onto something big and then found out about Dean. He offered to pull Dean out of Hell, because a Demon was trying to start the Apocalypse, and Dean was needed to stop it." Sam started to explain again to his father who was sitting dumbfounded on the other side of the table. "Dean and I where needed by the Angel's for something, and eventually, they told us that they where just going to let the Apocalypse happen. Honestly, if it weren't for Cas' quick thinking, and a few Angels willing to help Dean and me, we probably wouldn't have managed to stop it."

"You two, and Mister Stoic and creepy back there, stopped the Apocalypse?" John asked. "Did you two retire after that?" John asked, hoping. If there was ever a time to retire, if would be after that.

"No, we still hunt." Sam answered, with a defeated look on his face. "We both tried at one point or another to go back to civilian life. But things just kept popping up, and we would get dragged back in. There has always been another big and bad, that seemed to be out for our blood, or planning on taking over the world and it was all hunters on deck. One thing or another." Sam continued. "I mean, after the Apocalypse, I didn't have a soul, so we dealt with that, then Purgatory was opened and Leviathans where turning the human race into cattle. Then Dean and Cas where trapped in purgatory with them. It just starts getting really repetitive after awhile."

"You've got to be pulling my leg." John said, smirking at his son, as if he just caught on to a fantastic joke.

"I wish I where." Sam said, heaving a huge sigh. "But I'm not. That's why Dean is so angry. You died, this crap load landed in our laps, and he just started to resent you with the more secrets we found. Couple that with the detox and he's going to be edgy and pissed off for awhile. But he'll get past it. You just gotta be patient." He finished, laying a comforting hand on his father's.

"Detox from what?" John asked. Sam spitting out his coffee and thinking fast. He couldn't tell his father about the mark of Cain. About the side affects of it. His father would not take that well. He could try to do something stupid, or potentially lethal to himself or Dean. He loved his father, but he could be a bit closed minded at times.

"Alcohol." He answered quickly. Dean has had a history of alcohol problems. "He's an alcoholic."

"Every hunter is an alcoholic." John argued skeptically. "You don't see the things that we see without trying hide behind the bottle when you get home."

"Yeah, but with Dean, it's become a serious problem. That's why Cas is here now. We have plenty of room, and...Well, Dean won't admit it. But he depends on Cas for a lot, and not just help in hunting." Sam explained, lying about the alcohol, but not the rest. "Speaking of which, we just gave Dean his intervention today, so on to the next step. Removing temptation." Sam said, getting into the liquor cabinet, and taking everything out. Dean was going to kill him when he found out, but it couldn't be helped.

"If you think you need a drink, there's a bar in town and a liquor store as well. Just keep the bottles in you room or something." Sam cautioned, to make it seem more believable.

"How long has Dean had this problem?" John asked, looking up to his son, as Sam poured all the bottles down the sink. Obviously not having the same problem that he and Dean shared.

"It started after you died. Then it got worse after he got back from Hell..." Sam started, then paused as if thinking of something. "Do you remember Hell?" He asked.

"No, I don't really remember anything.."John started. "Wait, how'd you know?"

"Dean and I kinda figured it out, like two minutes after I found you in the room. It was kind of obvious." Sam explained. "But you don't remember. That's good, of course Dean told me the same thing, even though he started drinking more and more, and waking up every night screaming, then not sleeping at all. I found out, he did remember. He remembered everything, right down to the last detail."

That stopped John cold. His son was not only in Hell, but remembered it, vividly from what Sam was telling him. No wonder Dean had sought help from the bottom of the bottle. No wonder his son seemed dragged down and angry. He'd been tortured, and still remembered it. It was bad enough that his kids had had a hard life, but his oldest was having even more troubles mentally. He'd seen people in the war, the ones who came back from the POW camps. They where never the same again, and certainly couldn't fight anymore.

"Why is he still hunting then?" John asked, anger evident in his voice. "If he is having mental issues, he should not be hunting."

"He feels like he has to. For one." Sam answers. "And while he's detoxing, he won't be doing any hunting. But for awhile, he did it because he thought it was therapeutic, slaughtering other monsters, and getting into fights. Cas actually helped a lot with that, calmed him down in certain times. Or made him laugh, which is something he hadn't done for awhile. Bobby helped quite a bit with knocking sense into him when I couldn't."

"How is Bobby, by the way?" John asked, wanting to get away from this depressing conversation.

"Dead." Sam answered stiffly. "Leviathans shot him in the head."

"Oh." John said, his hopes shot down. This was gonna be a hard couple of weeks until they all got used to each other again.


Okay, Chapter 4 is up. This fic, if you hadn't noticed, is going to be a bit darker then my others. I will try to keep my chapters long, but that means updates aren't going to be happening very fast. I still have a day job, and other issues in my life I have to take care of. But I can promise I will not leave it abandoned.

I Hope you enjoyed.