-.._..-.._.._,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

A Wandering Boy

Chapter 29

The Church of Singer Salvage

From Chapter 28

Finally Castiel cut through the Holy Oil drawn Devil's Trap with the tip of his blade and the King of Hell disappeared clutching his document without even a flutter of a breeze. He was there one moment and gone the next.

Castiel lit the oil and it burned with a lovely flame, almost touching the lower branches of the old Oak until Castiel quenched the fire with a lowered palm.

From that day onward the Oak Tree at the bottom of Bobby's drive way was a silent sentinel, blessed by Angel fire and made aware by the Devils' curse. In time resting under the Oak triggered a type of Oracle and people often came to sit under the tree and work out their problems. Long after all the current actors were gone Bobby's Tree remained.

Chapter 29

Back in the house Castiel took his precious piece of parchment that he had paid for with his blood down to Bobby's panic room.

"I need to go and consider exactly how I'm going to get the Runes of Asmodal carved into your bones safely. I would rather not curse you all carelessly." He smiled and left.

The rest of the family gathered in the kitchen raiding Bobby's stores looking for lunch. It was Dean's second day home from school and he was trying to convince Sam to let him take the rest of the week off.

"What do you think, Bobby? Should we keep him home?" Sam asked.

"As much as I know that Dean will hate me for it I have to say that Dean should go back tomorrow. If he stays out of school all week they are likely to demand a Doctor's note to let him back in. I remember that mess from when you were little, Sam. Your idiot of a father never thought of those problems." Bobby grumped. "The great John Winchester didn't concern himself with the day to day problems of his son's life. All too often that was left up to me to worry about when you were here. I don't even want to know what happened when you were on the road with him"

Bobby went on. "In addition, the kid got a tattoo while he was supposedly staying home 'sick' yesterday. I can almost smell CPS hovering in the wings."

"Why would my tattoo be a problem?" Dean piped up. "Tattoos are cool."

Bobby pulled some sliced roast beef out of the refrigerator along with lettuce and tomatoes. ""Some people in the child welfare world don't believe that tattoos are cool on an eleven year old kid, that's what's wrong."

Bobby took the homemade bread out of the breadbox and pulled out his long knife. He pointed it over his shoulder at the freezer. "Sam, why don't you get us some chili out of the freezer and heat it up nice and slow? It'll go good with the sandwiches. Do I make one for the Angel?"

"Go on and make one. I've never notice him eating except out of curiosity. If he's interested at least he can try it and the chili. If he doesn't eat it I will." Sam responded. "What do we do about Dean's tattoo? Make-up?"

Bobby laughed. "That's a worse idea than the tattoo itself. I'm thinking we might have to go the religious route. You tell public servants that it's a religious tradition and they back up so fast they fall over their own feet trying to get out of the way."

Sam considered the idea. "We could invent our own religion you mean?"

"Sure," Bobby replied. "That's what most of these cults today do. Give it some fanciful name, loosely hang it off of some religious text and whoop-de-doo we've got ourselves a brand new shiny church. I kind of like the idea, myself. We can establish our first church right here in the yard; Singer Salvage's Church of Born Again Junkers.

Dean started giggling and Bobby looked down at him.

"Whoop it up kid. You're the one that's going to pull it off with a straight face. If you get trapped in a room with a bunch of people who stare at you with big sad eyes and look like they really need to go out and get drunk occasionally you're going to have to explain your religion to them before they stuff you in their non-cool cars and take you away." Bobby huffed into his moustache.

Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Bobby is just having fun, kid. We aren't going to call it the church of whatever he just spouted off. We'll think of a better name when the Angel comes back. I bet he has some good ones."

Dean looked up at his brother-father and patted Sam's hand. "Don't worry Dad. I can lie with the best of them."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

Castiel fluttered back into the room just as they were getting the table all set for lunch. The sandwiches were made and the chili was hot. Sam pulled out a chair for his Angel.

"Come on, Blue-Eyes. You want to take another attempt at human food? We have some interesting tastes for you to try out. Bobby's chili goes well with beer. You should give it a chance."

Castiel smiled and sat down in the offered chair. He thought he had explained to Sam that human food tasted pretty much all the same to him; molecules. He could give an exact analysis of what the food was but this subtle thing called 'taste' eluded him for some reason. He just did not seem to be able to make all the different particles making up a 'food' come together to make a 'taste'. He was willing to keep trying until he got it. The humans did seem to like their food a lot and he felt he just might be missing the point.

"I have given some thought to the possible dangers of using the Runes of Asmodal as protective symbols and I believe I have a good and safe procedure." Castiel said while investigating the inwardness of his roast beef sandwich. "If Bobby wouldn't mind I would like to try the procedure out on Rumsfeld first. She should be as protected from demons as any other member of the family. While I am at it I could also hide her from the Angels at the same time although I can't begin to understand why the Angels would have any interest in her. The Demon sigil would be of definite use on the dog though. Combined with her tracking abilities there would be absolutely no way that a Hell Spawn or even a full blood Demon could hide on this property."

"I don't know," Bobby responded. "Isn't this like animal testing? I don't think my dog deserves that. Is this going to hurt?"

"I will make it as painless as possible, Bobby." Castiel said. "At most it would be like your Grace infused tattoos. I simply would like to observe Rumsfeld's reaction to the Demon sigils before we try them out on Dean, for instance. Over time it would be as much to the dog's benefit as it is to the humans."

"While we're talking about testing stuff out," Sam interrupted, "we were talking about the tattoos while you were gone. Bobby came up with an idea for cover for Dean at school if someone should notice it but I think it would involve the whole family getting the same tattoo and that includes you too Blue-Eyes."

Castiel looked up from investigating Bobby's chili in depth. He had yet to take a bite of either the sandwich or the chili. If you asked him he would have responded with a very typical Winchester response: 'I'm working on it.'

"You want me to get the same tattoo? I don't know if that is possible." Castiel responded. "I'm fairly sure that I can't do it to myself and I don't know how my vessel would respond to what is essentially an injury. It might just heal over although I don't know what would happen to the ink. I'm not sure. I'm willing to try for purposes of verisimilitude to lend credence to Bobby's story. What is the story?"

"We're going to say that the tattoos are a religious symbol. We need to invent a reasonable religion to go with the story." Sam told him. "We hoped you may have heard of something we could use. Bobby called it the Singer Salvage Church of Born Again Junkers but I sincerely hope he was making a joke."

Castiel eyed Bobby Singer. This was awkward. The Angel never was completely sure when Bobby Singer was joking or not. He didn't want to insult the Hunter. "I don't believe I have ever heard of that denomination." he said hesitantly.

Bobby just about did a spit take with his chili, which would have been unpleasant for everyone. "It was a joke, Feathers. A joke. You got something more believable just spit it out."

Sam quickly put a hand on Castiel's arm. "He means just say it, Cas. He doesn't mean for you to spit anything out literally."

"Thanks you for your concern, Sam." Cas responded. "I am slowly catching on to some human idioms. I know that spitting at the table is not acceptable behavior."

"I suggest using the Church of the Open Door as a name for your religious organization. It can be described as a sect of Wicca as difficult as that is to image. However you do have an acceptable symbol in the flaming Wheel Pentacle of the tattoo and you have the Oak Tree as a True Manifestation of the Divine. There is some rather hazy mystical background involving Earth forces and ancient beliefs. You could build up a convincing mythos for your religion in the course of a long afternoon."

Sam laughed out loud. "Nothing like consulting an expert, is there?"

Bobby also laughed. "I have to agree there, boy. One question though. What's my old Oak Tree doing masquerading as a True Manifestation of the Divine?"

"Oh, I thought you had noticed." Castiel acted surprised. "The Oak Tree has become semi sentient. Its roots were bathed in Holy Oil and the flames delivered Grace to its lower branches. A Demon from Hell was captured in a pentagram beneath its branches and an Angel appeared near it. All these acts stirred the life in the tree to a higher than usual level for a tree. I would say that tree now has the power to both bless and curse. Your church has its first miracle. At this rate you'll have to watch out for people looking to join."

_,.-.._..-.._..-.._..-.._

When they had cleared up lunch Bobby called Rumsfeld into the house. After assurances from Castiel that he would take every possible precaution Bobby agreed to let Cas place the Runes of Asmodal on Rumsfeld's bones. Once the old girl was settled on the study rug Castiel leaned over her and placed his hands on her pelvis. The Angel's hands glowed with a soft golden light and at one point Rumsfeld made an attempt to snap at the Angel's arms in an obvious response to pain. Bobby sat with her head in his lap and soothed her.

It did not take long and Rumsfeld stood as soon as Bobby released her head. She stayed behind Bobby's legs and cast doubtful glances at Castiel but other than that everything appeared to have gone well. She was not limping nor sitting down and licking her legs so whatever pain she had felt momentarily was past.

With the careful offering of a doggie biscuit Castiel was once again back in her good graces and he was able to verify that the Runes were in place. He could feel a low thrum of power when he got close to the dog. The last and most sure test would be getting her near a demon.

After observing the dog for close to an hour it was Dean's turn. Castiel had the boy lay flat on his bed and remove his clothing. The angel felt that only skin to skin contact created the proper circuit for the Demon sigil. The Enochian sigils Castiel had installed right though the Hunters' clothing and in a flash but the demon sigil potentially could be much more dangerous and Castiel wanted every possible advantage. He did not want to rush nor did he want to fail. The possibility of burning the Runes into the skin's surface because of the insulation of clothing was not an acceptable risk.

Like the dog, Dean had some momentary pain as the Runes dug into his bones but it soon passed. Sam held his little brother close and comforted him.

Dean sat up immediately when Castiel took away his hands. "Do I get a cookie now, like the dog?" he asked.

Sam laughed at him. "Sure, come on. I'll even throw in a glass of milk." The brothers took off for Bobby's kitchen with Castiel trailing behind.

"Hey Bobby," Sam called out. "Would you happen to have some cookies hiding somewhere? Dean's jealous that Rumsfeld got a treat. Now he wants one too."

Bobby had been waiting in his library for the group to come back. Putting his book down he reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a tin of Scottish shortbread cookies then headed for the kitchen. "Here you go." He turned the tin over to Sam. "If I left them here in the kitchen they would be gone. I remember very well another kid raiding my kitchen for goodies."

Castiel spoke to Sam. "Will you help me with Bobby? Once I get the sigil installed on his bones then that will leave just you. I'm sure we can get it done without anyone else's help."

Leaving Dean with his cookie tin and strict instructions to not eat more than half the men when off to Bobby's room and repeated the procedure on the older man. It went well and easily. Castiel was building up even more confidence that this would work to protect his family. Finally they were down to just Sam.

Night was falling and dinner was a lost cause as far as Sam and Castiel were concerned. Asking Bobby to watch over the kid they retreated to their room and got ready for the carving of the Runes into Sam's bones.

Sam stripped and lay down naked on their bed. He was not surprised when Castiel stripped too. Sam knew that something like this was a long time coming and tonight it looked like the time had arrived. Castiel sat on the side of the bed and caressed Sam's hips with long, firm strokes. He stopped, hooked his thumbs into the jut of the young man's hips and held on.

First Sam saw the pale gold light appear in the dim room then he felt heat pooling on either side of his pelvis. The heat increased along with the glowing light and then there was pain. He tightened his hands into fists, digging them into the comforter. The pain didn't last long. It receded as the glow dropped.

Sam stared up at the dark haired Angel. Castiel had dropped his head and closed his eyes, concentrating on etching the symbols into Sam's bones.

Slowly Sam reached out to the Angel's shoulders. Castiel opened his eyes, looked up and smiled. They were alone in a peaceful bubble. The room was dark and growing darker as the night advanced and the setting sun was gone behind the hills.

The Angel slid his hands up the human's sides and lay carefully on the man's body pressing their flesh together. Finally he held Sam's head in both hands and kissed his lips softly and long. There was no hurry. There was no frantic pawing. There was delicate tasting of skin and careful exploration with finger tips. Sam relaxed and gave himself over to sensation. He wasn't afraid of Castiel's touch. He was learning to crave it.

Castiel took his time, carefully preparing his young lover. He knew that Sam's sexual history was broken at best; quick, rude couplings with strangers, meaningless releases of tension along the roadways and after hunts in a drunken groping. Sam never had experienced what the Angel was doing to him. The young man was worshipped. Castiel smiled in the dark, a fleeting thought came to him that this particular worship was a long way from praising God.

It took some time but finally Castiel got Sam to relax enough for the Angel to enter him. They rocked together carefully as the Angel took the Hunter's virginity.