a/n I admit I'm taking some liberties, like assuming that Michael will be able to walk with a cane after the events of Small Favor, and I will also have my own version of Lucifer. I hope you enjoy the story regardless.

Also, thanks to all those who reviewed and to Saffygirl for pointing out that Michael's name is spelled with an A. Now, on with the show.

Chapter 3

A grateful Sam chewed a bite of the sandwich Father Forthill had given him. It wasn't the steak dinner his brother had planned on, but now that his head was no longer threatening to explode, Sam's stomach had reminded him that he hadn't eaten in over eight hours. Harry had opened then resealed the circle when the food came. The three of them munched away, catching up. Mouse watched the proceedings with the intense concentration of one hoping to catch any and all stay crumbs.

"I never thought being tainted with demon blood would save me from something worse."

"What're you talking about?" asked Dean around a mouthful of his own ham and cheese sandwich.

"Back at the apartment, this," he waved vaguely at his head, "shadow really did want to kill you. It tried to take control of my body, make me shoot you, but I pushed it back. It felt the same as when I…"

"Killed a demon with your mind," Dean finished for him. "You realise this means you have two demons fighting over you right?" He smirked. "And the worst part is they only want you for your body."

"Not necessarily," corrected Harry. "Some Denarians only use their hosts for the moving parts, but others form uneven partnerships to cannibalize a host's magic or knowledge."

"It would help to know which Denarian it is," asked a new voice.

"Michael." Harry stood and went to greet his friend as Father Forthill showed him in.

Sam straightened in surprise. He'd met Michael Carpenter a few months before but had not expected to ever see the man again.

"Sorry it took so long to get here. Charity took the van with the little ones ands Molly has my truck. One of my neighbours was nice enough to drop me off."

"No problem, so long as you don't mind us starting dinner without you."

Michael turned to the room's other occupants. "Sam," he greeted with a nod, mindful of the magic circle. "And you must be Dean. Harry mentioned you after your last visit." They shook hands.

"Yep." Harry leapt in to make formal introductions. "Michael, meet Dean and Sam Winchester, demon hunters. Guys, this is Michael Carpenter, former knight of the cross. Amoracchius was his," he added for Dean's benefit.

Michael still walked with a cane, but was moving faster now then when Sam had first encountered him. "Speaking of Amoracchius, I see you brought the swords." He indicated the two weapons at the side of a cot.

"I figured if the Nickelheads are back in town, we could use all the help we could get. I was trying to talk Dean into taking up your old position." Unspoken, but implicit in the wizard's expression was If that's okay with you.

Michael nodded. "The swords were entrusted to you Harry, you can offer them to whomever you deem worthy. From what you've told me of Dean, he would make a fine knight. And it's not everyone who has an angel vouch for them."

"Angel?" Dean repeated. He was on his feet in a second. "Son of a bitch."

"Dean?"

"Coming here, you being …infected by this coin, it's all a ploy by those dickheads to get me to take the damn sword." He started pacing and yelling towards the ceiling. "I'm sick and tired of your manipulation you jackass. If you think for a second that I'm just gonna roll over and –"

"Dean, calm down."

"Calm down? You know what Zachariah was up to. He lied to us and manoeuvred us into kick starting the Apocalypse so he and his angel buddies could do a little spring cleaning, and maybe wipe out a few billion people while they're at it. He probably thinks this sword is gonna kill Lucifer so he wants me to have it."

"And that's a bad thing?" Sam was standing at the very edge of the circle. "Dean, it's already started. Whatever the angels have planned, it can't be any worse then Hell on earth."

"And that makes it okay?" They were yelling now.

"No, but it does make it our best option. We don't know what form Lucifer will take or how much power he has. Face it, we're outmatched. I say we take every advantage we can get."

"Well I say –"

Harry pulled Dean away before he could get any closer to his brother and break the circle. "And I say sit down, both of you." He returned to his own seat besides Michael and took a breath. "Personally, I don't know about angels, but I do know you Dean, You're a man of Love. You love your family, you love humanity, risk your life to protect people you don't even know and you don't expect any reward. That's love with a capital L, and that why I offered you Amoracchius."

"If it makes any difference," added Michel, "it wasn't Zachariah who came to me."

"Who than?" asked a somewhat mollified Dean.

"The angel of Thursday, Castiel."

"Cas?"

"That's what he sent us here for the first time," Sam realised, remembering their last visit to Chicago. "He asked you if you got the sword."

"Yeah…" after ranting like a lunatic, Dean suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

"He was having doubts at the time, not sure what God wanted from him, but I know he made the right choice sending you here. Harry's right, you may not have faith in angels, but it's your capacity love that would make you a good knight."

Seeing the hunter hesitate, Harry offered, "Why don't you think about it? I think I can hold the job for you for a few days." He smiled. "While were at it, you two know anyone for the Sword of Faith?"

Dean's eyes flickered momentarily to his brother, a move Harry misinterpreted completely.

"Right, back to the current emergency. Sam, do you know who the Denarian is?"

"Sure, evil bodysnatching devils always introduce themselves before taking over your brain."

Two eye rolls met Dean's comment, one from Sam, and one from the wizard.

"Actually, he did. Vendentiel."

Michel looked worried. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"What's wrong Michel?"

"Vendentiel hasn't been in circulation since the twelfth century. As far as I knew, it was still in the Church's custody."

"We got a jail break on our hands? Are more of these guys going to be popping up?" asked Dean, wiping the remains of his sandwich off his fingers.

Michel shook his head. "Almost all thirty coins have been captured at one point or another, but many get smuggled out, or stolen back."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Ever though about digging a really deep hole?"

All the former knight could do was shrug. "They always have a way of resurfacing."

"I don't suppose you know any way to destroy them?" asked Sam.

"There were attempts at the beginning, but containment was judged best."

"There are weapons that can kill demons," Sam added eagerly, "and there are ways to kill angels, at least seven of them were killed while the seals were being broken. Maybe Castiel could help us."

"Getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we Sammy. Lets start by dealing with the one that's in your head."

"Right. Other than he's been in lock up for nine hundred years, what do you know about Vendentiel?"

Michael shook his head. "Vendentiel is one of the Denarians most associated with the Apocalypse. He is extremely destructive, usually choosing to possess powerful practitioners," he made a slight nod towards Harry, "and augmenting their power dramatically. He has been credited with earthquakes and volcanic eruptions."

"Why do I get the feeling we're talking about Mt Vesuvius here and not the Hawaiian islands?"

"Ands what's this about practitioners. Sam's not exactly Gandalf."

"No," Harry agreed, "but he does have power."

"The power's gone. He clucked the whole kit and caboodle at Lilith," Dean insisted. "He's fine now."

Dean's unintended insinuation that power was some kind of disease was not lost on Harry. The wizard was about to make some smart comment when Sam interrupted. "Dean, come on." He glanced significantly at Dresden.

"Oh shit, man, I didn't mean…It's just…"

"Gee Dean, with that kind of eloquence you could be the next Shakespeare."

Dean narrowed his eyes at Harry's amused smirk. "Smart-ass."

"If I'm the smart-ass, does that make you the dumb-ass?"

"Harry…" Michael chastised.

"Actually, he's more of a jerk," Sam joined in, smiling.

"Whose side are you on Bitch?"

"Right now? His."

"Why, thank you Sam." He gathered up his and the younger hunter's dishes then resealed the circle once again. A satisfied look on his face, he shoved the lot at Dean. "For that, you get to wash these."

Shocked, Dean turned to his brother for support, but Sam had ducked his head and his shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter. "Traitor," Dean grumbled before accepting the dishes. "Are you at least going to show me where the sink is?"

With an exaggerated sigh, Harry declared, "It's so hard to get good help these days," then led Dean out of the room, Mouse trotting after them.

Once his brother and Harry were gone, Sam sobered considerably. "Sorry for dragging you into this mess," he told Michael.

"Sam, I carried that sword." He pointed to Amoracchius where it still lay, a few feet away. "I've been in plenty of scrapes, and I was never dragged in any of them. He," Sam could practically hear the capital H, "led me where I was needed."

"You really believe in God, that he sent you to save people?"

"So do you Sam."

The hunter shook his head. "I used to think I could help people but now…what I did…It wasn't God who sent me."

Michael was quiet for a long minute. "I've seen your faith Sam. It's shaken, but you still believe in Him, what you're afraid of is that He doesn't believe in you. Harry told me what happened, and I understand why you feel the way you do, but you have to remember something. He works in mysterious ways. Just because the situation looks bleak doesn't mean things aren't exactly as He wants them to be."

"Are you saying God wants to world to end?" Accusation and guilt filled Sam's voice.

"Maybe he wants it to be saved. Maybe, in allowing Lucifer to rise from Hell, you were His instrument in this."

Sam chuckled humourlessly. "I really doubt the Apocalypse starting was in His plans."

"Why are you here Sam?"

"…Because Harry said it would be safer," answered Sam, confused by the non sequitur.

"Here in Chicago."

"Dean and I were doing research a way to stop Lucifer."

"Why?"

"We have to. I have to. I did this, I have find a way to fix it."

"You believe there's hope."

"I can't…" Sam scrubbed his hands over his face while he got his breathing under control. "I have to believe there's an answer."

Michael smiled. "That what faith is Sam. You believe there's an answer, that there's hope, not just for the world, but for yourself." The man in front of him may not seem the definition of a man of faith, but not even all knights of the cross did. He proceeded to tell Sam about the bearer of Esperacchius, who didn't even believe in God as deity, and about a little old man who'd long carried the sword that lay besides Amoracchius.

Dean and Harry were coming back from the kitchen, both with suspicious wet patches on their shirts, when there was a knock at the door. Harry went to answer it. Mouse followed, tail wagging.

"Any luck?" he asked the newcomers.

"We scoured the neighbourhood, no sign of the coin," answered a voice with a strong Russian accent. Despite himself, Dean tensed.

"Damn." Harry opened the door all the way, letting in Molly and Sanya.

Mouse went to the girl who bent down, put both hands around his large head, and ruffled his fur. "Hey boy." When she straightened, her smile dropped several notches and she waved sheepishly at Michael. "Hi dad."

"Molly. I though you were just going to drive Sanya, not look for the coin yourself."

"I was. But since I was there already, I though I should help out?" she ended hopefully.

Michael took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. "Harry?"

Taking his cue, the wizard put his fists on his hips and glared down at his apprentice. "I thought I made it clear that I didn't want you anywhere near the Denarians."

"Then how come it was all right for me to bring Sanya?"

"Because that made you the getaway car driver, going out looking made you a potential hostage, and you know what will happen in that case."

Looking downcast, Molly answered, "The Denarians can use me against you and Dad and Sanya."

"Worse, your mother will kill me."

Molly cracked a relieved smile. If her teacher was joking, he wasn't that angry with her.

"Well, come on, you might as well meet the gang." Stepping out her line of sight, he revealed –

"Dean! What are you doing here?"

"I…wait, he's your teacher?" He pointed at Harry.

"You know each other?"

"Yes. We met at Bock's when I was picking up those books for you."

"Dude, you send your student to run errands for you?"

"I'm his apprentice, and he's not allowed at the bookstore," she piped up.

"Hey, is it my fault nasty inventory destroying things follow me around?" The wizard's defence was met by Dean's unabashed laughter.

"No, but it is your fault that you use so much inventory destroying fire to get rid of them." Molly's own snickering joined Dean's laughter. Even the two knights were having trouble keeping a straight face at their friend's embarrassment.

"Oh man," Dean brushed a tear from his face. "I've been kicked out of a lot of places, but never a bookstore. Sammy, have you…" Dean trailed off as he saw the empty bed. "Sam!" he called, his mirth dissolving into a near panic. "He was supposed to stay in the circle right? Why isn't he in the circle?"

"Harry?" Michael's grave tone interrupted the wizard's search. "Hadn't you brought Fidelacchius?"

Next to the camp bed Harry had been using lay a single, lonely sword, deprived of its companion.

"Stars and stones," swore Harry. "God, I'm an idiot. Who leaves a holy sword next to a Denarian?"

"That's my brother were talking about!"

They all heard Mouse's whine. The dog was standing by the door, pawing at it.

"Shit, the car." Dean ran out of the church. The Impala was gone.