AN – Warnings, disclaimer, etc. found in Chapters 1 & 5
It was four hours later and night was just beginning to settle in when Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a cheap motel. He cut the engine and made to exit when Henry, sitting in the passenger seat, spoke up.
"Wait. Why have you stopped? We must get to Normal as soon as possible. Abaddon must not be allowed to -"
"Yeah, I know," Dean bit out in response. He glanced to the backseat where Sam was sitting with a nodding off Harry pressed to his side. "But I'm not driving through the night. Harry isn't used to such long car rides and he's been alright so far, but I wouldn't bet money on it lasting much longer. Besides, after everything that has happened today, and especially his reaction to Abaddon earlier, he needs someplace to rest. We'll finish the drive in the morning."
Dean left the car before anything else could be said and entered the front to check out a room. He returned a few minutes later and moved the Impala closer to their given room. Handing the keys to Sam, he popped the trunk and grabbed the duffels they always kept there. Turning back once he made it to the door, he saw Henry continuing to sit stubbornly in the passenger seat.
"Hey, old man. You gonna come in or keep pouting in the car all night?"
He entered the room without waiting for a response to see his brother trying to calm down a suddenly wide awake Harry, who was bouncing around the small room, snooping in everything curiously. Dean merely watched on in amusement and made no move to help. Sam finally gave up on trying to talk Harry down from his sudden excitement and grabbed him around the middle as he ran by, dumping the boy on one of the beds and tickling him while he cried out in laughter.
By this time Henry had come in the room as well and had settled himself at the small table. While Sam set Harry up with the small TV and cartoons, the elder brother dug around in one of the duffels, pulled out a bag of salt and began making the usual lines in the doorway and window sill.
Once everything was done to his satisfaction, Dean sat at the table as well, joined soon by Sam, and both looked at Henry expectantly. The other Winchester, however, seemed content to ignore them both and busy himself with trying out the crappy phone provided by the motel.
He held it up to his ear. "Operator, I need Delta 457."
Dean snatched it away from him and dropped it back on the cradle. "Who the hell are you trying to call?"
"Our emergency number," Henry answers with an annoyed look.
"'Our' being the Men of Letters?" guessed Sam.
"Yes."
"You wanna finally fill us in on that?" said Dean, leaning forward.
"It's none of your concern."
"Why? Because we're hunters? What do you have against us, anyway?"
Henry gives them both an unimpressed look. "Aside from the unthinking, unwashed, shoot-first-and-don't-bother-to-ask-questions-late r part, not much, really."
Dean narrowed his eyes and even Sam took offense at that, speaking up once more, "You know what? Wait a second. We're also John's children."
Henry paused at that and turned his gaze away from his grandchildren and ended up focusing on the young boy watching cartoons and ignoring the adult's conversation. His expression relaxed into something sad and longing before he replied.
"You're more than that, actually. My father and his father before him were Men of Letters, as John and you two should have been. We're preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters, the very elite. They do the rest."
Dean sat back. "So, you're like Yodas to our Jedis."
Henry finally turned back and stared at the shorter brother with a blankly confused look on his face. It was an expression Dean was intimately familiar with, but had been seeing less often of late. He half expected Henry to respond with something along the lines of not understanding the reference, but dismissed his own remark with a "Nevermind" before anything could be said.
Sam tried to turn the conversation back on track. "What is it in Normal that you're in such a hurry to get to?"
The man seemed to take a moment to think about how much he should tell them.
"It is one of the bases for the Men of Letters. I am hoping to get in contact with them and gain their assistance in dealing with Abaddon."
The brothers shared a look and Sam leaned forward a bit. "Henry, I don't think you're going to find any help there. I mean, if you guys were such a big deal, then why haven't we, or anyone we know, ever heard of you?"
"As I said, we contacted and gave our information only to the elite. I am sure you and your brother are good hunters, but-"
Dean interrupted, "Believe me when I say - me and Sam? We're about as elite as it gets nowadays."
Henry glanced between them both, and then his shoulders seemed to drop a bit. "Abaddon. She must be the reason."
"But why would she go after them? Why is she chasing you?" Sam pressed.
In answer, Henry pulled out a small wooden box about the size of a deck of cards and laid it on the table. On it was carved the same symbol found on the pin of Henry's tie.
"Okay, what's that?"
"I wish I knew." He put the box back in his pocket. "Abaddon attacked us the night of my final initiation. All secrets were to be revealed then."
Dean blinked. "Let me get this straight. You traveled through time to protect something that does you don't know what from a demon that you know nothing about?" Henry stayed silent and Dean nodded. "Good."
The displaced Winchester gave a sigh. "They can't all be gone. There must be another elder out there who can help us figure out how to stop Abaddon and what to do with the box."
All three were still for a moment, and then Dean went to Sam's bag and pulled out his laptop. "Alright, Sammy. Do your geek thing."
His brother rolled his eyes then turned to Henry. "Yeah, alright um… give me a name. Anybody who, uh, might have been there that night. One of those elders."
Henry blinked at the machine in front of him for a moment, as if trying to figure out what it was, and then listed off a few names while Sam entered them on the computer.
"Okay, here it is. Um, August 12, 1958. A tragic fire at a gentlemen's club. Uh, 242 Gaines Street."
"That's the address for the Men of Letters. But it was no fire."
Sam turned the laptop slightly so all three could see the news article showing on the screen.
"Larry Ganem, David Ackers, Ted Bowen, and Albert Magnus – all deceased."
"Albert Magnus." Henry sat back in his seat with a determined look on his face.
"He a friend of yours?"
"Even better. We will need to visit the cemetery where they are-"
He was interrupted by Dean's cell phone ringing. "Hello? Cas! Where the hell are you? I called for you hours ago!... Hold on, what?... You-?!... Yeah, alright. We're at a Motel 6 on the edge of Cedar Rapids, room 27."
Before he had even hung up, there was a knock at the door.
AN – Alright! This chapter's a little shorter than usual and I apologize for that. I wanted to add a couple more scenes, but Cas just did not want to make up his mind on how much he wanted to be involved. So, I cut it here and decided to post because you lovely people deserve something after this long. Next chapter should make up for this one in length and finish the Men of Letters arc.
Also, I want to say: One hundred! This story now has overone hundred reviews! As in triple digits, as in 1-0-0, as in HOLY SHIT a freakin' HUNDRED reviews! *cries* I really never expected this to gain as much notice as it has, so thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and adding to your favorites!
Hope you enjoyed and reviews are greatly appreciated! :)
