Goliath
By: Ridley C. James & Tidia
A/N: Thank you to those who have taken time to review.
RCJ&TI
"So this is where the great Triad of The Brotherhood had its beginnings."
Dean didn't answer; cradling the rifle his brother had passed him as he watched Walsh survey the two-story farmhouse and the rolling land surrounding it. The fields were lush and green from spring, dogwoods and weeping cherry in bloom. The wrap around front porch would have kept him close to his Triad but given Walsh a glimpse of Miss Emma's garden, which was bursting with the first colors of the season. A protective surge had Dean opting for the barn.
He pointed the barrel of the rifle towards the bulking gray structure in the distance. "We can talk in there."
"Humble beginnings for such greatness." Walsh stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, started walking. "Not that different from how Owen and I grew up actually, just trade the horse shit and sod for sand and fish guts and we practically led a parallel childhood, Winchester."
"I fucking doubt that," Dean growled. When they reached the barn he let Reagan enter first, following along with Boo, who startled one of the barn cats. The black feline darted in front of them, the retriever giving chase. Dean nearly laughed at the prospect of further bad luck crossing his path. "Martha's Vineyard is a long way from Kansas or Kentucky."
"It was the Cape, actually." Reagan didn't seem surprised that Dean had done his research, or at least read through the files Riley had composed on Walsh and crew since their first encounter. "When my pops wasn't hunting he ran a pub in Bourne, The Trawler, best crab legs and Irish coffee on Buzzard Bay."
"Owen's father was a partner in the business." Dean said, showing Walsh he wasn't revealing anything Dean didn't already know. He really wasn't in the mood for idle chitchat, but would let Reagan take the lead for now.
"In name only." Reagan walked the perimeter of the barn, taking in every detail. He stopped in front of the stall holding Sam's horse. The big bay gave a friendly nicker, hanging his head over the gate, no doubt hoping for an apple slice or sugar cube. "Owen's old man did two things well, run traps out of his fifth generation lobster boat and run up a tab at the bar."
"He's been known to take fingers." Dean lied, not liking the idea of Reagan touching something his brother loved. He placed the rifle by his side, propping it against the Impala, which he'd pulled into the barn last week to give himself something to do over the endless days when he felt useless in every other aspect of his life. He'd already changed the oil, and replaced spark plugs, brake pads and rotors that had miles of life left in them.
Walsh ignored his warning, running a hand over Fideist's white blaze. "I guess you know Jonah's blueblood Boston family had a big beach house on the island, and stayed there every year during the on-season?"
Dean managed a bored look. "It was the only connection between the three of you before your military service."
Reagan made his way over to the Impala, resting his hands on the Chevy's hood. "What your computer geeks probably didn't tell you was that Jonah's mom, like so many of her rich bored peers, liked to slum during her vacations away from their fancy boarding schools. My old man was quite the Casanova back in the day, stole more than his fair share of summer girls' hearts, not to mention their virtues."
"Jonah's your brother." Dean hadn't seen that one coming, but supposed in a twisted way it made sense.
Reagan shrugged. "Not exactly something Jonah's mother and her socialite family liked to advertise, hence why Jonah kept the family name and his ties to my father on the down low, but me and my dad still made sure to have some influence."
"Like hunting and the navy."
"You know how it is, Dean. Boys want to please their fathers and emulate their big brothers. The fact Jonah started showing strong psychic abilities at an early age drew the attention of The Guardian at the time, who took it as a sign and made sure to keep Jonah close, making sure Owen, myself and Jonah stayed close."
Dean felt his anger stir at the undeniable fact there were similarities in their background. "Why the hell are you sharing your fucked up family tree with me, Walsh? I really don't give a damn."
"To point out that we really do have some things in common, to prove to you I'm a family man, too. I can empathize with your current situation."
"You came all this way to share your softer side. What next, manis and pedis, an invite for lunch? "
Reagan laughed. "I figured you'd be glad to see me seeing as how Owen tells me you've made quite the effort to track us down this last month."
"I've been looking for you," Dean admitted.
"Sorry we missed each other. Jonah and I have been out of the states, doing a favor for God and country. Just wrapped the mission and made it back yesterday."
"Owen didn't want to join in the fun?" Dean's mind raced; putting together the possibility that Reagan's crazy Knight might have had a secret mission of his very own to carry out. If Walsh was telling the truth, this piece of information could be the ace that Gideon had alluded to.
"The government no longer appreciates Owen's particular talents."
"That explains the dishonorable discharge."
Reagan didn't take the bait, but the almost imperceptible shift in his stance told Dean what he needed to know. The flash of anger in his blue eyes wasn't so easy to hide. Owen was most definitely a weakness. "So I take it you must know about my quest for The Sword of David and understand the implications it could have for you and yours."
"Aren't you a little old to keep up this Indiana Jones fantasy? First The Holy Lance, now the sword that slew Goliath."
"Your resources are better than I expected." Reagan seemed genuinely surprised. "I was hoping to keep you in the dark a little longer, wait until you were really desperate before regaling you with my tale."
"Like you hoped to keep me in the dark about your dark coven friends?"
"I really have underestimated you, Winchester." Walsh's look of surprise morphed into something closer to admiration. "You know about Sida."
Dean moved around the car, coming to stand directly in front of Reagan. "The question is, do you know about Sida?"
Reagan shrugged, his cool grin back in place. "I know she's loyal to The Trinity and The Order, an Advisor of sorts, like your witch."
Dean snorted. "Only I sure as hell ain't fucking Sawyer."
"I'm sure you could have found a candidate more suited to your tastes if you'd tried." Walsh frowned. "But do you really want to discuss positions with benefits and my love life when Caleb's looking worse than some of the casualties I saw on my recent trip to Al Tafar."
"I want you to say what you came here to say so you can get the fuck off my property."
"You know I want the sword and what that means for you."
"But I don't know why you want it."
"Nor do you need to." Reagan folded his arms over his chest. "All that's important to you is that what I'm offering here is a way to save your Knight's life, a way that you're not going to find anywhere else."
"Siege Perilous." Dean still found it hard to speak the unthinkable. "You believe it's to be found with the sword."
"I know it seems as unlikely as Big Foot, but it's real. When I began my quest for The Sword of David, Jonah saw Caleb in a vision. Caleb claiming his seat at The Round Table, as crazy as it sounds, is a part of the journey for me to claim David's Sword."
"Forgive me if your bastard brother's premonition doesn't bolster my confidence in partnering up on this expedition."
"You don't have a lot of choice in the matter. It takes both dark and light to open the door. I need The Triad's help for that, just as I need Caleb to get the sword. You need Caleb alive to keep your Triad in tact. I'm offering you the only hope for that."
Dean shook his head. "You really think I'd go through all of this, contemplate working with the likes of you, not to mention pissing off angels and demons alike, to keep my Triad viable?"
"I think that doing what's best for The Brotherhood is more important to you than you want to admit; it's a pull as undeniable as the ocean's tide, but it's relevant to you as The Guardian, as Jim Murphy's legacy. Protecting a brother, helping family, now that's central to the core of all that is Dean Winchester."
"Funny how everyone keeps accusing me of being capable of just about anything when it comes to saving the people I love."
Reagan shrugged. "Going to Hell for forty years kind of sets a precedent, Winchester."
Dean couldn't argue with the logic. "So The Triad and The Trinity shows up, and a magic door just opens?"
"There's also an ancient spell needed as well as two very powerful witches to cast it."
Dean was beginning to get a clearer picture as to why Sida and the coven were important to Walsh; but it was a clarity that only made killing the witch seem more convoluted. "So you weren't just stringing Sida along to get closer to my Triad?"
"Sida and I have history of sorts. She was the first piece of the puzzle in attaining the sword of David. When Jonah saw her with a grimoire that held the spell last year, I took it upon myself to meet her. When he also foresaw an opportunity for Sida to assist you, I took that as well. You're welcome by the way."
"We both know you weren't saving me out of the kindness of your heart, Walsh."
"True." Reagan's smile widened. "It's not like you would be much use to my plan if you weren't breathing."
"Funny you should say that." Dean raised a brow in challenge.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning if what you said about the spell is true, we may have a problem because you're down a witch. Sida is dead."
"What?" Reagan's arms fell to his side, he took a step towards Dean.
"You think Caleb looks bad, you should have seen your girlfriend laid out on that morgue slab. The shower curtain she was wrapped in didn't do much to keep her from feeding the fish and other scavengers in the lake where her body was dumped." Dean knew he was being a cold bastard, but it was worth it to watch Walsh's face flush, sweat dot along his upper lip as he struggled to work out if Dean was lying.
Walsh clenched his hands into fists. "What kind of game are you playing, Winchester?"
"No game." Dean shook his head, taking note that Owen was not Walsh's only weakness. Reagan looked gutted, and it told Dean that he had not had a part in killing Sida. "Your girl's gone, pull up some recent newspapers from that little town you two liked to use as a secret hook up in Arkansas and take a gander. While you're at it I suggest you find another Advisor pretty damn quick if you want my Triad's help in getting to the sword."
"If you hurt her..."
"You'll what?" Dean slammed his hand on the Impala. "Kill me? We both know that's not an option, and if you even think about going after someone I care about, there's no way in hell I'll work with you, possible cure be damned and you've made it very clear you're not getting your hands on the sword without Caleb."
"You've made a fucking mess of things, Winchester." Walsh raked his hands through his hair.
"Me?" Dean laughed, shook his head. "I made a mess of things? Maybe you might want to back that train up and take a long look in the mirror, Walsh. You're the one that brought her coven into this. Sida's death rests solely on your shoulders."
"I had no reason to hurt Sida."
"Then that's just another thing you and I have in common. I didn't touch the bitch, but that didn't stop her coven from running to me when she disappeared, thanks in part to your brilliant scheming."
"If not you, then who?"
"Damned if I know." Dean shrugged. Gideon was right about the information. He didn't know how the truth of Owen's guilt would serve him, but having something to hold over Walsh was the only possible advantage they might have in this whole convoluted mess. He'd be in contact with Sida's coven as soon as he was rid of Walsh, insuring they kept their mouths shut about Owen if they wanted the Brotherhood's help in exacting justice. "Maybe Jonah will have another one of his revealing visions."
"Jonah's gift doesn't work that way."
"Right, he's like a psychic lost and found." Dean found it ironic that The Trinity's Scholar was programmed to be self-serving, where Sam and Caleb suffered to protect the lives of innocents. "Maybe your girlfriend was offed by someone who had something to gain from her death? It's often someone close to the victim, a boyfriend or lover. After I questioned her BFF Marta, I thought it might be you, of course that was before you started to tear up."
"That's why you were looking for me? It wasn't about the sword."
Dean gave a sharp nod. "The information about the sword only just came today with my morning news."
"I'll have to secure another witch, ones comparable to Sida's power." Reagan began a small tight pace with perfect cadence. Dean gave him credit for reining his emotions in so quickly, obviously another skill he'd gained in service of God and country. Death did little to shake a seasoned warrior, but betrayal was another story all together. "You could be right about someone with something to gain. Sida's murder could mean there is another player in the game. Someone who wants to see us fail in our objective."
"You mean the angels?"
"Or demons." Reagan took one more sharp turn before regarding Dean. "There are those on both sides who have their reasons for wanting us to abort this mission."
"Yet none of that is reason enough for you not to go after David's Sword? You must have one hell of a deal worked out for that blade."
"As I said before my motivations are none of your concern. Caleb swears to turn the sword over to me and we take you to the place where we all get what we want."
"And where is that exactly?"
Walsh seemed to regain some of his swagger, having succeeded in compartmentalizing his lover's demise. "The Fisher King's Castle, of course."
"You mean Corbenic? The Grail Castle?" Dean recalled Jim's stories of how the legendary tower often appeared and disappeared at will in Arthurian verse. It was the birthplace of Galahad, the end of many a knight's great quest. "That makes perfect sense."
If Walsh picked up on Dean's incredulity and sarcasm he ignored it in lieu of acting as if they were going on a regular mission. "I have Sida's grimoire and the location of one of the secret doors that allows passage there. You'll need to bring your Triad, your witch, and most importantly our leverage."
"What leverage?"
"The Holy Lance."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Why do you think I needed you to find the damn thing in the first place? Raphael was getting too close. I knew you'd do the honorable thing and the lance would be in safe hands with your buddy Castiel until we needed it. You'll need to call for it back, by the way."
"So finding The Spear of Destiny wasn't some big ruse to get closer to me?" Dean didn't bother mentioning he and his angel buddy were not exactly on speaking terms.
"No." Reagan looked insulted, or perhaps a bit disappointed in Dean's lack of the earlier promise he'd showed as a worthy adversary. "I needed The Lance."
"What the hell for?"
"To negotiate terms with The Fisher King." Walsh moved around the car to stand in front of Dean. "He's not just going to kindly invite us into his castle. I'm betting a perpetually wounded man won't be able to resist being healed of his ailment and having his kingdom restored to glory."
"I have to still be dreaming." Dean shook his head, rubbed his eyes. "This is all part of my nightmare."
"Here are the coordinates where we'll meet." Walsh held out the slip of paper to him and Dean's thoughts turned to Juliet. It was the second time that day he'd been offered directions that could drastically alter the course of his life. One path he doubted he'd ever have the luxury of exploring, the other he was being left no option but to accept.
He took Reagan's note, gripping it in his fist. "When?"
"Two days from now. I'll need a little time to secure Sida's replacement."
As much as Dean hated to admit it, time was not something they had in excess. Still, Caleb had only just started to regain his strength. "Caleb needs to recover."
"Recover?" Walsh frowned. "Surely you know that's not going to happen. If anything, the sooner you get him on the road the better. Giving him a mission might work miracles for your knight because he sure as hell isn't going to let you and your brother go off on your own. If he croaks, at least he does it on the battlefield with his boots on. It's been my experience that sheer determination can go a long way in fending off a reaper."
Mac had just approved a walk for Caleb. He'd be unlikely to sign off on a trip to fucking Camelot, but Dean would concede Walsh had a point. The idea of Dean and Sam working with Walsh would light a fire under Damien. Dean had reluctantly agreed to his best friend's request to leave the hospital, he never said he would let him go peacefully into the night. "This better not be some kind of trick, Walsh."
"And if it is?" Reagan grinned, though it looked more grimace. "You're going to what? Kill me?"
"You'll only wish I had that option."
Walsh had the nerve to slap him on the back, like they were two old buddies making plans for their next meet up. "If it makes you feel better bring your security blanket...I mean detail. You can be damn sure after what happened to Sida I'll have a couple of my best hunters to watch my Trinity's sixes."
Dean really wanted to tell Walsh that stationing a couple of hunters to stay behind really wasn't going to do him much good when he was taking Sida's murderer along for the ride. Instead he kept quiet, except for the muttered 'bastard.' He watched Reagan slip out of the barn before turning to Boo, who'd abandoned his halfhearted pursuit of the felines to rest on his boots.
"Any ideas on how to break this to Sammy and Damien?"
Boo tilted his head thoughtfully, letting out a fretful whine. "That's what I thought." Dean ran a hand over his hair, making his way towards the barn door. "I'm screwed."
In the end he made his Triad wait until the others arrived at the farm to tell the whole convoluted story. They didn't put up the fight Dean imagined when he'd explained his reasons for holding back. Caleb, either too tired or pissed off to argue retreated to his room to wait, Sam went his separate way to the sanctuary of the library giving Dean none of his usual grief about complete honesty between their Triad.
Ethan and Joshua made it to the farm by late that evening, Eli and Riley flying in on separate flights that got them to the house by eleven. Mac and Bobby rounded up the group of solemn faces now surrounding the round table in The Tomb. It was nearing the witching hour.
"Don't hold us in suspense much longer, kid. Your buddy's about to fall asleep in his warm milk." Bobby lifted his mug towards Caleb who was sitting, rather slouching at Dean's left side.
Caleb instantly straightened, picking up his own weakened coffee and glaring at Bobby over the rim. "I'm fine."
It was a rote statement, one they'd all taken to ignoring. Sam rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Joshua, which told Dean his Advisor might have some insight as to why his Knight and Scholar seemed to not be speaking to one another. He'd pump Josh for information later.
"No one's going to feel like catching a few z's after the story I'm about to tell you."
"That's for sure." Riley was practically bouncing out of his seat at the far end of the table. Dean had been forced to fill the kid in on some of the details when he asked him to bring all the research he had on The Fisher King, David and Goliath and Galahad. "It's got all the makings of a George Lucas saga with a Charlton Heston epic spin. Think The Ten Commandments meets the The Knights of The Round Table."
"Indy, I think I asked you not to talk unless I asked you a question." Dean held up a finger when Riley opened his mouth. He could not be expected to get through the whole sorted tale with Riley interrupting at every whim. He was starting to regret having okayed Bradley's two week trip to study some bizarre culture in the Amazon with a graduate class he was taking. "We also agreed that when asked a question you would only respond with facts, and not your typical enthusiastic commentary."
"I'll keep a leash on the kid, Corleone," Ethan spoke up, putting a big hand on Riley's neck and giving the college student a little shake. "Seeing as his usual handler isn't here to rein him in."
"Bradley's not my keeper." Riley knocked Ethan's hand away, waggling his finger with the silver band. "I'm a full-fledged hunter."
"Boys, please let Dean tell us what he needs to tell us so we can all get some rest and a fresh start in the morning." Mac motioned for Dean to continue, glancing to his son before cutting his eyes back to Dean. "This has been a long day for everyone and the anticipation is not making it any easier."
"You mean dread, don't ya, Dad?" Caleb looked up at Dean. "Anything involving The Trinity has got to be bad news. The fact The Guardian made everyone, including his Triad, wait to hear it only means it's beyond typical bad."
"It's not all bad." Dean met Caleb's gaze. "In fact, some of it is just up your alley, Damien."
"There's going to be naked chicks with kinky fetishes?"
"There is chainmail and swords."
"Dean," Sam chimed in and Dean shot his brother a weak grin.
"Just setting the mood, Bro."
"Now that you have the children's attention, could you please continue?" Joshua tugged at his tie. "Some of us have planes to catch."
Dean hated to break it to Josh that his plans to head back to Virginia where Carolyn was waiting out the last couple of weeks of her pregnancy with her parents were going to have to be put on hold yet again. Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to conjure some of Pastor Jim's essence. After all, he'd listened to the former Guardian regale them with similar stories in this very room
The Tomb, though changed through the years, still gave off a foreboding vibe of history. The smell of the old journals from hundreds of hunters long since passed that lined the walls of bookshelves, portraits of the more famous of their peers and the scarred wood table that Jim liked to pass off as his own version of The Round Table told the story of those that came before them, whispered possibilities of those that would long follow in their footsteps.
Dean let all that fall away, concentrating on the painting on the far wall that Caleb had done for the pastor the Christmas before he left for Auburn. In it fierce colorful dragons circle above a great white capped lake, the thick fog swirling off the water barely allowing the view of a giant castle in the distance, the tip of its gray tower glistening in the few rays of sun piercing the mist. Dean vaguely wondered if his friend hadn't had the Grail Castle in mind, though he imagined it was more the castle where Prince Samuel lived. No matter, it gave Dean the fortitude to tell them the story Gideon shared, to lay out the plan that would hopefully ensure his Triad had a chance to make their own mark on The Brotherhood.
"A descendent of Galahad?" Caleb was the one to break the hushed silence that had fallen over the group when Dean finished a very condensed explanation of what Gideon and Reagan shared. "Surely you realize Walsh knows you're desperate, Deuce. The sonuvabitch is yanking your fucking chain."
"He didn't tell me the part about Galahad and David," Dean said, wearily. "Gideon did."
"Gideon?" Caleb and Ethan asked at the same time, their tones vastly different. Caleb's still held doubt, but the police detective's tone was full of awe.
"You saw Gideon?" Ethan continued before Dean could say another word. Dean could imagine the confusion and hope his statement might have stirred in Lane's best friend. "When? Where?"
"It's a Guardian thing," Dean knew the explanation was lame. He felt Eli's disappointed gaze on him so he turned to the professor. "I know I'm being a hypocrite and probably an ass, too, but I really don't have time to get into how I spoke with Gideon just now."
"This happened at the pond after I left?" Caleb asked.
Dean nodded. "I know it sounds out there, but…"
"It's true." Bobby's confident declaration had all eyes going to him. "I'm sorry, Junior, but Daniel Elkins traced your ancestors extensively after your parents were killed. Hell, I helped the crazy bastard before I realized what he was planning. We focused on Seaver, but he had your mother's family tree tossed in there for good measure. It was one of the things the pastor used against him when Daniel tried to convince The Brotherhood you should be…well, you know. Jim made a compelling argument that you should be given a chance because of your lineage, not in spite of it."
"Dad?" Caleb turned on Mac and Dean hoped that the doctor could plead ignorance.
"I truly believed the last thing you needed was to have more expectations placed upon you, Son."
Dean didn't know whether to pity the former Scholar or be pissed at him. Caleb had obviously quickly settled on the latter.
"So you were okay with me knowing I was descended from demon kind, but not that I had ties to The Knights of The Round Table?"
"I would have preferred you never known any of it, Caleb. None of it has anything to do with who you are."
"Yet, it has everything to do with what's happening to me now." Caleb turned back to Dean. "Isn't that right, Deuce? I mean, Johnny taught us there are no coincidences and the fact Walsh is after a sword only I can get him has to have something to do with the fact that I find myself in a position where I might just be desperate enough to give it up."
Dean nodded. "My money's on that theory."
"That's because you're nobody's fool." Caleb stood slowly, scooting his chair back. "Neither am I. Daniel Elkins's crazy theories screwed with me most of my life. I sure as hell ain't going to let them fuck up what time I've got left."
Dean didn't try to stop his Knight from leaving, but dissuaded Mac from following Caleb with a piercing look when the doctor started to get up from the table.
"I'm not finished here."
The former Scholar did not hide his displeasure, but stayed seated just the same. Mac might have had all the authority in the hospital, but Dean made sure there was no mistaking who was in charge here.
"We need to make a plan for when we meet up with Walsh and his Trinity." Dean turned to his brother, offering Sam the slip of paper Regan had given him. "These are the coordinates. I want you to get a feel for the area. There has to be something unique about it."
"Okay." Sam took the note. His brow furrowed but he held back on pointing out that Caleb had just refused to go along with Walsh's plan. Dean appreciated his little brother's unusual restraint. "What about The Spear of Destiny? You said Walsh told you we had to bring it."
Dean glanced to Joshua. "You got any ideas in that area?"
"I might. The Spear is technically yours to govern. We may be able to use a Triad spell to call for it if Castiel doesn't want to cooperate."
"Why wouldn't Cas cooperate?" Riley asked. "He's like your own personal guardian angel."
"Let's just say Castiel may have bigger obligations to consider." Dean didn't give Riley a chance to question him further. "Now is a good time for you to fire up your power point presentation, Indy. We all need to be on the same page."
"Wait," Joshua interrupted before Dean could make for the door to The Tomb. "You said Walsh mentioned a spell book? I could call my grandmother and Missouri. If such a grimoire exists, they may know of it."
"That's a good idea." Dean nodded. "I want you to get in touch with Adam. I'd feel better if he was there to cover your coven assets as they were."
"I'll have you know I'm quite capable of covering my own assets, but this level of spell work might pique his interest. So much so that he would be willing to overlook the company."
"I'm sure Glenda the good witch can tolerate her wicked crafting cousins for a short time."
"I was speaking of you and Caleb."
Dean snorted, having walked right into that one. Joshua loved reminding them that Adam was not impressed with them in the least. "Just tell him we'll be heading out tomorrow night." Dean turned to Ethan. "Crockett, you and Bobby are coming along for security detail."
"I'd like to come." Eli lifted his hand as if he were in a classroom asking a teacher for permission. Dean guessed it was a hard habit to break.
"Sorry, Professor. You have to sit this one out."
"May I ask why?" Elijah lowered his hand, his glance going to Sam and then back to Dean.
"For the same reason The President and The Vice President always take separate planes." Dean had a responsibility to The Brotherhood. With Gideon dead, Elijah was the only person Dean trusted to take his place. "I wanted you here in case the current Guardian crashes and burns."
"What about Owen and Sida's murder?" Ethan asked, effectively changing the subject. "How can you be sure that Sida's coven won't try to handle things on their own, or at least let the cat out of the bag on your theory?"
"I already talked to Lawrence. I explained to him how stupid any such move would be on their part. They're all about keeping secrets so staying quiet that we think Owen was responsible for Sida's death shouldn't be a problem." It had not been difficult to persuade the witch once Dean mentioned that Walsh claimed to have access to an ancient grimoire, one that had belonged to Sida. It seemed that Lawrence had no idea that one of their sacred texts was missing. "They understand what's at stake and are willing to do what it takes to cut all ties to the hunting world. They'll play along and keep their mouths shut."
"You realize this spell will undoubtedly demand the dark arts?" Joshua glanced from Sam to Dean. "There are things I have sworn not to do, rituals I will not perform if it means tainting my family, or worse, cursing future generations."
"There's a reason they need both light and dark, Josh." Dean was certain any nefarious works would most likely be left to the Trinity's crafter. "You won't get your hands dirty."
"What about me?" Mackland folded his hands on the table, leaning forward to make sure Dean understood he was not going to concede this point so easily. "Past regime or not, you can't dismiss me as if I don't hold a grand stake in this plan."
"Just like you didn't dismiss me and Sam when you carried out Caleb's treatment plan at the hospital?"
"That's not fair," Mac stated quietly, his dark eyes holding Dean's. "I did what I had to do in hopes of saving Caleb's life."
"Then you should understand that's exactly what I'm trying to do now." Dean knew exactly what he was putting on the line. His, Caleb's and Sam's lives were only the tip of the iceberg. It gave him a new understanding and appreciation for Pastor Jim. "Just like with Elijah, I need you here in case we don't make it back. I can't risk either of you. You're the only ones who can pull The Brotherhood through if the worst happens."
Dean recognized Mac's impending protest and rushed to cut the former Scholar off before he could launch into one of his epic speeches. "You know I'm right, Mac. Losing one member of a Triad is enough to put the sharks in a frenzy; something eradicates all three it's going to take someone they respect, someone who's used to holding the shit together to prevent a fucking blood bath."
"Kid's making sense, Doc," Bobby broke in. Dean watched him rub a hand over his grizzled beard. "It sucks ass, old stinky ass, but you and I have been around this bend before. You know I'm going to watch out for the boys, just like always."
Dean watched the two old friends share a long look. He could imagine the exchange of memories taking place, had been witness to most of them. Not for the first time he wondered at their ability to carry on when so much had been taken from them. He longed to promise them both something to look forward to, a time when they would somehow reap the rewards of all their service and steadfast loyalty, not just to The Brotherhood but to Dean and his brother, but then Caleb had always been the one to put stock in such a future.
"Okay, Dean," Mac finally conceded, looking up at him. "We'll do it your way."
Dean managed a half smile as a white flag. "Now if I can just get your pigheaded son to agree, we'll be a go."
He found Caleb in Jim's old room, Dean's room now. He was in the small sitting area at the pastor's desk in front of the bay window.
"Still courting ghosts, Damien?" Dean crossed the room, hitched a hip on the corner of the desk. He gestured to Jim's Bible clasped in Caleb's hand. "Probably more of the Pastor left in there than out at the pond."
"I stayed in here after you went to Hell." Caleb told him, his eyes staying focused on the scenery out the window. You could make out part of Miss Emma's garden, a red bird perched on one of the wild bird feeders hanging from the lower branch of a massive oak, which was one of many that stood sentry around the old house. "Partly because I couldn't stand the sight of the door to your room from my own bed; mostly because I hoped something of the old man might rub off on me, give me a reason to keep going."
"I think I catch glimpses of him sometimes." Dean fingered the silver letter opener on the desk, traced over the reading glasses no one had the heart to toss away. "Usually in the morning when I'm not quite awake. White head bent over his sermon notes, crazy hair sticking up all over the place."
"I used to hear Beethoven and Bach." Caleb glanced over to the ancient record player the pastor used every morning to fill the room with classical music, sometimes jazz depending on his mood. "Thought Sam was messing with me a time or two, but then neither of us was really in the mood for practical jokes."
Dean took his hand from Jim's things, refocused on Caleb who was staring at him now. "Look, man, I'm sure the pastor would have told you the whole thing about David and Galahad eventually. Just like he would have explained the Guardian stuff to me and The Scholar gig to Sammy. Meg and demon kind robbed him of his opportunity."
"I'm not pissed at Jim, Deuce." Caleb put the Bible back onto the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "The pastor is the first person I remember from when I woke up at the psych hospital, the first person who didn't seem interested in me as a potential psychotic murder suspect, that is. He promised he was going to help me, that he would get me out of there no matter what it took."
"It took getting Doctor Mackland Ames on the case." Dean probably owed Mac an apology for many reasons. The former Scholar had been instrumental in saving Caleb's life the first time around, all of their lives on subsequent occasions.
Caleb's mouth twitched. "Dr. Ames knew how to work a hospital even back then, where his clout didn't take him, the Ames fortune did well to grant him access and favor. For a long time I thought he was some kind of rich do-gooder, wanting to prove to the pastor he was worthy of his divine cause."
"They did the best they could by us." Dean was thinking of his father as well.
"They did." Caleb leaned back in the chair, stared at Dean. "Besides, if they had dumped that Galahad spiel on me when I was older, it wouldn't have been some grand reassurance, a way to fight off my insecurities. Hell, I would have thought they were just helping me because of what I might potentially do for The Brotherhood. It sounds fucked up saying it out loud, but knowing about the demon shit actually made me more confident in the fact that someone wanted me. If I was part of everything they stood against, tainted by the enemy they fought to destroy, and they still kept me around, then I had to have some kind worth."
"You mean besides your excellent nanny skills?" Dean knew Damien well enough to know what his friend was saying was true. Jim in all his wisdom probably understood the same. "Keeping you was probably cheaper than hiring help."
"Screw you."
Dean laughed. "Or they could have been afraid your already big head might explode and that your cockiness would have reached epic levels when you realized that you were the great to the tenth power grandson of Lancelot."
Caleb's mouth twitched. "Johnny would have had his hands full."
"As if Dad didn't already."
"For all your old man's faults, all the times he gave me hell, he never let me doubt that I was the right choice for The Knight. He used to say it didn't matter that I wasn't a Legacy like Josh, I was the real thing."
"That didn't have anything to do with your connections to Galahad, dude. Dad didn't give a shit about who might fall out if he shook your family tree. He knew you, the man you are, Noah Seaver and King David be damned."
Caleb held his gaze for a long moment, finally giving a quick nod of ascension. "You really think Walsh is going to get us to the Grail Castle? How is that possible?"
"How the hell should I know?" Dean smirked. "But don't tell me the very prospect doesn't get your blood flowing?"
"If by blood flowing you mean make me nauseous, then yeah." Caleb exhaled. "Of course that's pretty much a constant state these days."
"Come on. I know you better than anyone. You get stiff just thinking about seeing Excalibur, let alone thinking you may be the one to pull it from the stone."
"That might be true, but in case you haven't forgotten I'm not exactly up for a trip to Avalon. Hell, I was going to be happy if you and I made it to The Red Caboose once more before my time was up."
"I never thought I'd say this, dude but The Red Caboose has nothing on this trip. We're talking Camelot, The Castle Corbenic. Fuck, Damien we might even see a dragon. This is like your life long fantasy coming true."
"I'll have you know my life-long fantasy involves canvases of raw silk, half a dozen Victoria's Secret models and lots and lots of edible paint."
"Bullshit," Dean countered. Caleb might play at the perpetual Casanova, but Dean knew what made the real Damien tick. "The only way this could be deader on for Caleb Reaves is if Riley promised you The Fisher King's Royal Guard was the fucking Musketeers."
After a long moment, Caleb lifted a brow. "You really think we might see a dragon?"
"At this point, I'm not willing to discount running into old Merlin himself, but you'll never know if you don't come along."
"And if it's a case of willing spirit but failing body?" Caleb gestured to his head. "As much as it kills me to admit this to you, Kiddo, I was lying down at the pond this morning because once I walked out there, I didn't have the energy to make it back. I was seriously considering calling you to come get me when you showed up."
Dean didn't even blink. "Sam and I will carry you if we have to."
"Okay." Caleb swallowed hard, his mouth twitching with what Dean recognized as a steel determination to keep emotions at bay.
"Okay," Dean echoed, not trusting his own voice.
"But no sissy cradle shit." Caleb pointed a finger at him. "Piggy back or fireman carry and only then if I'm completely unconscious and no one is around to take pictures."
"Deal." Dean reached out his hand and Caleb clasped his forearm.
"The fucking Knight of The Brotherhood has a reputation to protect."
"Damn straight." Dean grinned, feeling steadier, even if it had never been clearer that Caleb's pride was by far the least of their worries.
((()))))
