The day passed quietly. True to Nick's word Derek was a very good cook. By eight o'clock in the evening both Winchesters were obviously wilting. Dean's leg had started to swell slightly and Sam was dead on his feet. The Legacy members helped them back up into their bedroom and then returned to the fire.

Outside the wind continued to howl. If they bothered to look through the window all they would have seen was a wall of white. If anything the storm appeared to be gaining strength.

"So," Derek said as he settled comfortably into the chair nearest the fire. "What do you make of them?"

"They have somewhat antiquated ideas for dealing with some supernatural problems but they still know their stuff," Nick said. He'd known this conversation was coming. All in all, he hadn't been looking forward to it. He wearily sank down into the couch and lifted his injured leg up onto the coffee table.

"Why have we never heard about them before?" Derek wondered. The Legacy had tendrils of influence in most areas of the country, in all areas of the military and most law enforcement agencies. How could they not know about the duo?

"I think they tend to fly below the radar, Derek. Not everyone wants to draw attention to what they do," Nick suggested. He sank a little lower into the cushions.

"Still, we should have known they were about," Derek insisted.

"We've been a little busy of late, Derek. I'm surprised that we had the time to come out here and deal with this," Nick replied. Life at the San Francisco house had been very hectic of late.

"If I had known about the Senator's presence, we would have been out here a lot earlier," Derek said. He turned his attention to the fire and watched the flickering flames for several minutes.

Content to let his boss think, Nick leaned his head back against the couch. His intention was to watch the fire as well but his body had other plans.

"I touched Sam," Derek said suddenly. Nick fought his way back to awareness. Evidently he'd fallen asleep.

"And?" the ex SEAL asked. He knew that his boss wasn't intimating anything inappropriate. Instead, he was trying to tell him about his psychic response.

"There were a lot of confusing images," Derek replied. As he talked, he was trying to make sense of the images. There were so many of them, some of them were layered on top of each other. "One name came through, Azazel."

Nick's blood ran cold. He'd hoped he'd imagined hearing that name. "What do you think it means?"

"I think that Sam must be of importance to him. I saw an image of a woman trapped on the ceiling, blood coming out from her stomach and flames all around her. I think there might have actually been two separate women but it's hard to process."

"That's one of Azazel's trademarks all right. Who do you think the women were?" Still feeling a little more protective of the boys than he'd ever thought possible, Nick hated the idea of Sam and Dean dealing with that kind of emotional pain.

"I get the sense of their mother and a girlfriend. There is something flowing through Sam's blood other than the venom. I have the feeling that Azazel's chosen Sam for some purpose." The very thought chilled Derek to the bone. Azazel was a demon that they knew enough about to be very worried. The Legacy had been trying to banish him for centuries without much luck.

"Great," Nick breathed. They'd met Azazel before. The results had been devastating for the Legacy. It wasn't something Nick wanted to have to repeat any time soon. "What do you think Azazel chose Sam for? Why him and not Dean?"

"I'm not really sure but I have a sense of strength from Sam that isn't just physical. I think he may be psychic among other things," Derek stated. Now that he'd voiced the idea, Derek realized that it felt right. That would explain a few of the things he'd felt.

"What do you suggest we do?" Nick asked. Derek and Alex's psychic abilities were proven to him but they still made him a little nervous. The thought of Sam having the same ability and possibly others didn't really sit all that well with him.

"I'd like to take them back to San Francisco with us. The venom is going to keep them ill for about a week. I don't want to leave them alone to heal."

"I think Dean might object to that. I get the feeling he's used to taking care of his brother and doesn't want anyone else to do it," Nick said. He actually found Dean's protectiveness of his brother kind of funny and endearing at the same time. Again he wondered briefly what kind of childhood these two men had had.

"Well, you will have to convince him otherwise," Derek stated, glancing at the younger man. A bond had formed between the three men. Derek was willing to use that or anything else he needed to go keep an eye on the boys. At least until he was sure they were one hundred percent fit.

"Yeah, I'll try," Nick replied. There was a notable lack of conviction in his voice. The ex SEAL wasn't stupid. He knew Dean wasn't going to be talked into doing anything he didn't want to do. "Once the military finds out who summoned the demons, how are they going to deal with him?"

"I'm not sure. I made sure my contact knows that we'll help in any way necessary. That's another reason why I want to get somewhere with full communications," Derek said.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Nick said as he tried, unsuccessfully, to pry himself back out of the couch.

"They're sleeping. You need to rest as well," Derek said as he caught hold of Nick and carefully pulled him to his feet. Once he as vertical, Nick felt just how tired he was. Suddenly sleep seemed like a very good idea.

The wood crackling and popping in the fireplace kept Derek company through the wee hours of the morning. The wind continued to howl outside. The San Francisco precept had the feeling that they were going to have to dig themselves out of the cabin in the morning. That is if the brothers were feeling well enough to be moved. Letting the military men get away with the helicopter suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea.

Nick was upstairs sleeping. The ex SEAL hadn't complained once about his own injuries so it was easy to forget that he'd been in a major car accident not that long ago. Derek knew how stubborn his friend could be, especially when he was concerned with someone else's welfare.

Sleep kept creeping up on the precept. He wasn't that concerned about their safety but he wanted to make sure someone was awake if the brothers needed help. Standing up, he stretched and headed up the stairs.

Padding down the hall, Derek quietly opened the door to the Winchesters' room. The light from the hallway fell across Sam and Dean's faces. Both men were sound asleep. Both had pale complexions. But it was Dean who had a sheen of sweat over his face. Moving into the room, Derek found the basin and clothes. Carefully he wiped at Dean's face.

Under normal circumstances, Dean would have ripped Derek's arm off and beat him with it. The senior Winchester hated being touched by anyone unless they were female. The fact that he didn't react at all indicated just how truly sick he felt. A soft groan issued from Dean's mouth as the cool cloth swiped across his forehead. Rolling onto his left side, Dean curled up, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach. Carefully, he pulled his knees up as another groan escaped.

As Derek reached over to the night table to rinse the cloth, he glanced over at Sam. The younger man was staring at him. Those dark depths stared at him but Sam made no effort to stop him. Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder to let him know that he was there. That was all the energy he currently possessed. As he watched Derek tend to his brother, Sam's eye lids slid shut and he fell back asleep.

Once he was satisfied that Dean was as comfortable as he could make him, Derek stood up from the bed. Stretching his aching back, the precept walked over to the chair. It was going to be another sleepless night. He wanted to make sure that the brothers were all right and the only way to do that was to watch them. Settling his tall frame into the wooden chair, Derek prepared to stay awake.