Chapter 26 – Family Matters

The first stop on Nidhug's list was a pair of male dragons who lived in Manhattan. They were very influential in the human entertainment world, producers of big budget summer blockbusters with gorgeous special effects, mega explosions, and very little else.

The human guard who answered the door smiled at Nidhug at his mention of Draconêdismos Vermithrax and Nu-Kua, much like a dog will grin at a new chew toy, or a piece of juicy meat. Nidhug was surprised at how calm he sounded, almost bored. His hands didn't shake, either. It was as if his host body was already resigned to the fact that violent agonizing death was imminent, and there was no need for him to worry about that anymore.

He could only hope that it would be quick. He rather doubted it, but he could always hope.

The guard stood a full head taller than Nidhug, and he was probably warded against psychic attack. That left physical, and the way Nidhug's luck was running, the man was probably warded against that too. Nidhug stood there on the doorstep of the townhouse, the hustle and bustle of normal New York at his back, none the wiser that dragons really did exist, oblivious to what was living in the midst of them.

Nidhug readied himself. Snapping this human's neck might not work, but he was still going to try.

The guard stood there for a moment, and his brown eyes flashed vivid green. Nidhug knew the look. That eye flash happened whenever he choose to communicate with his own human followers, back in the day.

He tried not to think about them.

The guard visibly relaxed. That alert, hungry look on his face faded out in a snap, as he schooled his sharp features into a polite smile. He kept his hand on the door handle, pulled the door open even wider, and gave a slight bow in Nidhug's direction.

"Ah, the Silverstones will see you in a few minutes, sir."

Sir? Nidhug raised an eyebrow. He walked into the house, past the human, and that space right between his shoulder blades itched. Treachery among his kind certainly was not uncommon, but that wasn't the feeling that he was getting. Something had happened. Something had changed.

He was shown to the parlor area, offered a seat, which he took, and a glass of champagne, which he declined, although he was feeling thirsty and nervous and could have used the drink.

The Silverstones showed up a few moments later. They were average height, red-headed, with bright blue serpent eyes. They might have been twin brothers, but Nidhug knew better. Two males together, acting as a mated pair, and that was not uncommon in his world, either, even though such a union did not result in a brood of chicks.

They bowed to him. Nidhug sat there frozen, as he heard them speak, heard them say that they had long awaited the triumphant return of the Great Dragon Who Darkens The Sky, and as the duly appointed representative of Draconêdismos Vermithrax and Nu-Kua they and all their resources were at Nidhug's disposal.

Nidhug sat there stunned. It was one of the few times in his life when he was rendered absolutely speechless.

They stared at him, and he stared right back. When he opened his mouth the other two dragons froze, attentive, ready to hang onto his every word. What came out of his mouth was nothing earth shattering. What he said was this: "I think I'll have that glass of champagne now."

It was easy to lie. Betlinda seemed nice enough. Besides, she was family now, so Dean smiled and responded in all the right ways. His smile reached his eyes; he was genuinely warm, and affectionate. He hugged Betlinda with all the affection that he would have ordinarily reserved for family or close friends.

At one point she stood up, took Dean's right hand in hers and kneeled, with her forehead against Dean's hand.

Father, Betlinda whispered adoringly. I honor you and your vessel…

Nancy and Nu-Kua smiled, just a little.

Dean's eyes widened. I don't like this, he thought shakily.

I know, Draco said soothingly. She is showing us respect. If you reject it, you reject her.

I don't…I don't want to do that.

I know. Relax, Dean. Relax and accept the gesture.

It seemed to go on for hours, but it was actually only a moment or two. Dean was actually relieved when Betlinda rose and sat back down on the couch with Nancy.

Dean listened attentively to tales of her childhood, nodded gravely in agreement as Betlinda told of her relief about Namiazas' death. Namiazas refused to fight alongside his parents. He turned and left when they and the rest of his family were under siege by the other dragons, penned in by containment sigils. He didn't take an active side against them, but he abandoned his family just the same.

Draco held off his attackers long enough for his children to escape. Nu-Kua fled into Hell.

Dean heard all that, and it moved him to anger, it really did, and yet and still all he could think about was the fact that Namiazas was Draco's son.

And, by extension, his son.

Nu-Kua wasn't even aware that Dean was faking. He wasn't that sure about Nancy. He saw the way she looked at him. If she knew or suspected, she kept it to herself.

Dean's skin vibrated with the rumble of Draco's purr, and that purr continued even as Betlinda rose to take her leave four hours later. She hugged Dean once more, and he insisted on walking her out to her car.

Nu-Kua was very pleased by that.

Once out on the street Dean hugged Betlinda one more time. The car was a late model Silver Cloud Rolls Royce. Dean stood there on the sidewalk and quietly scanned both the car and the driver.

The car was heavily warded, with protection symbols covering every square inch underneath that expensive light golden paint job. Even the windshield and the tires were hardened against supernatural and conventional hazards alike. The driver was tall, massive, dressed in a white shirt, black business suit and tie.

Dean took his sunglasses off. His eyes flared red as he stared at the man. In response, the chauffeur removed his own dark sunglasses.

He was brown-eyed, human, and warded as well. Dean sensed a fully loaded semi-automatic pistol in his side holster. Special rounds, consecrated iron, salt and silver. And that was just for starters. There were two specially modified sawed off shotguns underneath the driver's side seat. Dude was tricked out with three more guns, well hidden, amulets, silver knives, and some heavy duty mojo bags, the kind even John Winchester had only heard about and noted in his journal.

Dean nodded at Black Suit. The man's eyes flared ruby red as Dean and Draco's voices echoed inside his head. Take care of my child.

Or else was unspoken, but understood. The man in the black suit nodded silently, and Dean nodded back.

Dean stepped away, and the Rolls pulled into traffic. Betlinda turned around in the rear window, smiling and waving, and Dean smiled and waved back. Draco purred like a contented cat, and Dean relaxed, just a little. Maybe he'd gotten away with it. Just maybe…

Dean? Draco rumbled, almost lazily. We have to talk.

Damn.

Four hours and six dragons later, and he wasn't dead yet.

Huh.

What were the odds? Nidhug was finding it all very hard to believe.

What happened at the Silverstones was repeated over and over again. They bowed to Nidhug, they pledged their allegiance and their resources to be in "joyful service" to Draconêdismos Vermithrax and Nu-Kua.

At the end of it, Nidhug stood staring blankly at carpet in the elevator as it swept upwards towards the penthouse. The list was finished. Done. He stared at the expensive carpet, idly following the textures with his eyes. It was a habit he had whenever he was confused about something. It helped to settle him down.

Draco and his human had killedNamiazas. The traitor. His own flesh and blood. The "proper authorities" were saying that this "Joe Black" had been killed in a gas line explosion, which accounted for his grotesque injuries.

Nidhug and every dragon out there knew better.

When the elevator opened up on the penthouse floor Nidhug sat down quietly in the chair next to the flower arrangement on the table. Nidhug had already "called ahead." Draco instructed him to sit out in the hall until he returned.

Nidhug did so gladly.

If the old dragon had no qualms about ripping the heart out of his own flesh and blood, then Nidhug had no wish to enrage Draco further.

This part of Central Park was quiet and peaceful this time of day. Dean faded in on an old stone bridge, quiet and peaceful, with overhanging green trees above, a deserted runner's pathway below. There was no need to conceal his eyes here; there was no one around.

Here it comes, Dean thought. He stopped in the middle of the bridge, leaned against the rough grey stones and waited for whatever pain Draco choose to inflict on him.

I did not explain to you beforehand, the dragon said calmly. About the traitor. I should have.

There was no violence, no anger, no heat in Draco's voice. He seemed genuinely puzzled by Dean's reaction. He wanted Dean to share and care.

Dean blinked. This…this was it?

I want to understand. I need to.

Dean was careful not to roll his eyes. They were having a chick flick moment?

He…he was your son, Dean thought flatly. I understand now.

Draco chuckled. You can fool Nu-Kua, little one, but I am not fooled so easily. Nor is Nancy, I think. You were polite. You sat and listened to my daughter, Betlinda. You were uncomfortable, but you did not disrespect her, or dishonor me. I appreciate that, anguigena. Now you must explain to me why your father did not discipline your younger sibling. Why he let the boy defy his wishes, and live.

Dad, Dean said slowly. Dad wouldn't have hurt Sam. No matter what Sam did, or said.

The vision rose up all around Dean, then: the cabin they holed up in, out in the middle of nowhere. John standing so close to Dean he could see the dark and light swirls of yellow in John's possessed eyes.

"You fight and fight for this family, but the truth is, they don't need you like you need them."

Dean jerked forward, against the railing. Did you do…did you do that?

No.

Do you need to feed, like before?

No. You brought that memory to the surface. I did nothing. Well?

I don't…Damn. He never had been any good with words. That much hadn't changed. Dean shook his head. I'll fight for this family. You know I will. With my last breath, but… His voice trailed off.

But? Draco prodded gently.

But…he was your son. As much as my dad and my brother fought, no matter what, they would never hurt each other. They wouldn't…

Are you sure about that, Dean?

What?

Wasn't that one of your fears?

I don't know what you're ---

That your father and brother would argue when you weren't around?

Dean could see it. Towards the end, before Sam left for Stanford, the fights had gotten ridiculous. Fights about the kind of motel rooms they stayed in, the food they ate every day. God, his shoulders got tight and ached whenever he saw Sam's bitchface. Dad's expression of deceptive calm would be right behind. Sam thrust his chin out, balled his fist as though he wanted to strike John, and lately John looked like he was two seconds away from giving Sam exactly what he wanted.

That they would kill each other while you were out of the house? Towards the end you were tired, worn down from being the peacekeeper. You left sometimes. To make time for yourself. To get some air. A drink, to calm your nerves. And while you were gone you always thought of this.

Dean put his hand on the doorknob, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. It was too quiet.

Always thought about what you would see when you came back.

Dean smelled blood.

Blood on the floor. Blood all over.

Dean leaned into the stone railing. His knees shook, and he was seconds away from losing it. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything but that.

Dad and Sam dead on the floor, staring sightlessly up at him, eyes glazed forever, the same question in each pair of dead, glassy eyes: Why weren't you here, Dean…

Why didn't you stop this?

Breathe, Dean, breathe…

I stayed…I stayed with Dad because I loved him. I didn't fear him…Neither did Sam.

Did your brother love your father?

Yes…

Are you sure?

YES! Why are you asking me this? What the hell does it matter anyway?

I want to know why killing my son bothered you so much. He was a traitor to his family…

"He was your son!" Dean raged out loud. His face was wet somehow, and he couldn't remember how he got on his knees. "I could have talked to him. We could have punished him. We didn't have to kill him."

Dean. Listen to me now.

The air around Dean darkened. He knew it was crazy, knew that it couldn't be, but it seemed that Draco was outside Dean's body now. Dean could feel the smooth bronze scales as they pressed against his skin. Draco's wings unfurled slightly, provided shade and cover from the sun above.

Your father was weak.

Dean shook his head as Draco embraced him and pulled him close. "No," Dean said aloud. "Dad wasn't weak. He wasn't…"

He would have made a weak dragon, Draco thought firmly. That long neck curved down and around. Draco's sleek head turned to face him. Dean stared into those ruby red eyes and he couldn't look away.

You were the loyal son. You deserved his attention, but instead your rebellious brother usurped your rightful place from you. Those are the ways of a human family, and you're far more than that now. I am sorry this caused you pain, but you must learn to release those ways, child, because they no longer suit you. You were too good for your family. They did not appreciate your commitment, or your loyalty. They did not understand it, and they did not understand you. I've seen the way your brother Samuel looked at you. He thought of you as reckless. Foolish. In our culture older siblings are also revered, especially if the eldest is as talented and courageous as you are.

Draco breathed, and Dean breathed. Dean couldn't tell where the dragon ended and he began.

Dean realized he didn't care anymore.

Never doubt that I will continue to honor our agreement. I will not harm your brother or your friend. But make no mistake, Dean. If I had to do it all over again, I would have killed Namiazas with my bare hands a thousand times over. It is our way. As you said before, family before everything. You have family now, family that will not desert you, will not leave you. Ever. Embrace the ways of your new family now, child.

He was tired. So tired. Maybe it was time to give it up. Maybe it was time to stop hanging onto some half-assed notion of humanity. The normal rules just didn't apply anymore, not to him, and not to Nancy.

Dean nearly gasped aloud as he felt renewed energy flood through his body, washing away the coldness, the fatigue that gripped his muscles. That kink right between his shoulder blades immediately relaxed. It was the one place in his body that always tensed up first. He felt warm. Powerful. His muscles vibrated with it.

It was all so clear now. He'd been a fool to fight any of this. Namiazas was a friggin' traitor, pure and simple. Family, Dean's new family, came first, always and forever. They'd never leave him. Never.

He would make the world burn in order to keep them safe.

You weaken us when you have doubts, my child. We are stronger together, as a family.

Dean nodded. Draco smiled, and Dean smiled back.

My anguigena, Draco purred, and Dean preened beneath his attention. You will never regret this.