Chapter 36: The Garden's End

A/N: Thank you to Millenium Ring, FreedomXJustice, Aini NuFire, Dumbledore'sWisdom, SPN Mum, Insert Name Here, Nunquam Iterum, Nameless, and ofmooseandmen for their reviews! I'm actually really nervous about this chapter. I'm hoping very deeply that it's not as bad as I think it is.

"The Garden of Eden," Dean repeated. "The Garden of EDEN, which no one has seen in like, millions of years? That Garden?"

"You don't have to be a smartass about it. It's a pretty tall order, I know, but we've done a hell of a lot more with a hell of a lot less," Bobby began. "There's enough lore on the damn thing that if we put our heads to it, we can find the place. If you wanna shake Joshua down, I figure this is the best way to do it."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the Garden of Eden's been lost for millenniums, hasn't it?" Kevin spoke up.

"He's right. I mean, do the angels even know where it is?" Sam directed the question to Cas. Cas seemed almost saddened by the question.

"I…" He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "The Garden's location is ever changing. After it was corrupted, it was no longer a solid place on Earth. It shifts and changes to whatever location will properly protect it - true bastions of nature, of God's creation. The further man spreads, the further it has to recede. Angels are ingrained with the knowledge of where the Garden is, but Naomi's tampering... I don't believe many of us have the ability to sense it anymore. Even if I was an angel, it is unlikely that I would be able to sense where it is at this particular time."

"What, the bitch poked around in your heads, and now you can't sniff your way back to the Garden?" Dean asked.

Cas ducked his head. He didn't like to admit that Naomi's torture had taken away much of his memory – there were blank spots that stretched for centuries, now. She had almost completely erased him when she had her claws into him. It still terrified him to think of how much of his life he lost at the hands of the other angel. How much of himself he lost. God only knows what would have happened to him if he hadn't found the angel tablet.

"Yes," he answered stiffly.

Dean's hands tightened into fists on the tabletop. "If Metatron hadn't already killed her, I would hunt her down for what she did to you, Cas. I would."

"Can we stow the white knight act for a moment?" Crowley asked dryly as Cas felt his cheeks heat up. Dean always seemed to express his feelings by plotting acts of violence against others. Cas couldn't say that he disliked the method. Knowing that Dean would kill for him… it made him feel cared for. He knew that wasn't strictly functional, but nothing ever was with the Winchesters. "Loathe as I am to sign up for the wild goose chase that this is likely to be – I can't say that it's not possible."

"Meaning?" Dean asked.

"Meaning that it may well be possible, moron," Crowley said with an exasperated sigh. "With the right resources, the right research, the right supernatural assistance-" He gestured pointedly at himself "We might be able to find it."

"What are you thinking, Crowley?" Sam inquired. The demon clasped his hands together, glancing around the table.

"I can zap to and fro, checking all the likely locations, search them as thoroughly as necessary. Chances are it's either in Africa or the Middle East – at least that's what all the lore says – so it's not as if we have to search the entirety of the planet. I figure it this way; I head to all manner of exotic locations, have a look around, drag Moose and Bobby with me. They can research at the local libraries while I go Garden hunting. They feed me locations, I go to them. With how quickly I can move from place to place, it might actually be doable."

"Why Sam and Bobby? Why not all of us?" Dean asked, not sounding pleased in the least.

Crowley gave Dean a look that seemed to express disappointment in what he perceived to be the hunter's lack of intellect. "Bobby, how many languages do you know well enough to read?"

Bobby chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to think. "Eh… twelve, thirteen maybe."

"And you, Sam?"

"Fluently? Four. I can get by in about seven, though."

Crowley redirected his eyes to Dean. "And how many do you know, Dean?"

Dean glared at the demon. After a long moment, he muttered, "Two."

"And my point is proven: Sam and Bobby can clear through more literature faster and more thoroughly than you."

"What about Cas? He's a fuckin' angel of the Lord – he can read every language there is."

Cas pursed his lips. Once he again, he was going to have to admit to another deficit to his once great power. "That's no longer true, Dean. Although I am still reasonably intelligent as a human, much of my knowledge has been limited due to my species change. I still know Enochian, as it is my language of origin, and English – as that was the language Jimmy spoke – but besides those two, I am not fluent in any other tongues."

Dean seemed at a loss for a moment. It was times like this that he desperately yearned to have his powers back; he would be of so much more use to the Winchesters if he was as strong as he was before. He felt almost like a burden to the brothers.

"I suspected as much," Crowley said. "So Moose, dear old Robert, and myself – we're best suited to handle this. There's no reason to make it a family vacation."

"You ain't my family, asshat," Dean growled out, his temper seeming to flare. "And what the hell are Cas and I supposed to do while you three traipse over to the other side of the world?"

"Play guardian angel to the cutest little Prophet, keep track of the angel and demon fisticuffs – whatever it is you do. You are a hunter, aren't you? Why don't you hunt? I'm sure there's plenty of monsters out there still treating the population like an all you can eat buffet."

"W-what, you mean Cas and I hunt? Hit the road like everything's just peachy fine?"

"I honestly don't give a damn what you do," Crowley replied. "As long as no longer arguing with me when you know I'm right is somewhere in the itinerary, I could care less."

Castiel thought about the idea of hunting with Dean. He'd gone on hunts with the Winchester brothers before, but it was under considerably different circumstances. He was with both of the brothers, generally accompanied by Bobby when the hunter was alive. And of course, he'd been an angel, then.

His hunt for Gabriel had gone relatively well – neither he nor Dean had been critically injured and they had successfully tracked down Gabriel. To a certain degree, he almost enjoyed it. It made him feel capable again. Made him feel useful when lately he felt more and more like a liability.

He would miss Sam and Bobby (he couldn't exactly say the same for Crowley) but going hunting with Dean was an idea he found himself fond of.

Dean looked to Sam and Bobby. "What do you two think about this?"

Bobby shrugged. "I'm not huge on the idea of jumping on a demon jet and runnin' around halfway 'cross the world, but if it gets the job done, then you're not gonna hear me complaining."

Sam scratched the back of his head. "I don't want to separate anymore than you do, Dean," he said. "But you and Cas should probably stick close so you're here when Kevin decodes the next angel trial. And I've been thinking, well, we haven't been going on hunts these past couple weeks. Doesn't that feel a little... wrong to you?"

Dean met his brother's eyes, and something silent seemed to pass between the two of them. "I don't want you that far away, Sammy."

"If we work hard and we work fast, we'll be back before you even notice that we're gone."

This didn't seem to comfort Dean at all.

"Are you sure about this?"

"We need to find Joshua, Dean. He's the only angel God ever bothered talking to after Lucifer fell - we need to know what he knows. Especially if it means we can find a way to shove Xaphan back in his cage."

Dean didn't seem capable of arguing with that. "Fine," he said. "But just for the record, I don't like this."

"You don't have to like it, Squirrel," Crowley told him. "You just have to accept it."

"That seems to be how a lot of things are rolling, lately," Dean said contemptuously. "Kevin, you okay with this?"

"If it stops more people from dying in this angel anddemon war and gets him out of here, I'm more than okay with it," the Prophet answered. Crowley frowned, but by this point, the demon seemed to have mostly adjusted to Kevin's passionate hatred of him.

"All settled, then? Pink ponies and happy skies all around?" Crowley asked. Dean fumed silently. Castiel cleared his throat.

"I believe we're all in agreement, yes."

"Then the three of us will leave tomorrow morning," Crowley said. "If you've a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace..." He flicked his eyes between Sam and Bobby, but neither of them seemed to take issue with his proposal.

"The sooner we leave, the sooner we get it over with," Bobby said.

"Fucking great," Dean muttered. Without another word, Dean pushed himself away from the table and promptly departed the room. Castiel watched after him, a frown tugging at his features. He wanted to go after Dean, but he knew that at the moment, the hunter wanted to be alone.

Alone, or with his brother.

Dean sat in his room, his hands folded behind his head as he lost himself to the strains of Kashmir. It was the best thing he could think of to calm himself. At least Zeppelin wasn't leaving to go thousands of miles away to hunt for the Garden of Eden.

He knew he was being kind of childish about all of this. Damn aware of it. But there'd never really been a point in his life – other than those few months after Lucifer was released – that he and Sam had both agreed to be separate from each other. Stanford, that was just Sam getting as far away as humanly possible from Dad. Death tore them apart several times, but never for long. Purgatory stood between them for awhile, but thanks to Benny, he was able to conquer that as well.

Hell, it seemed like he and his brother spent a good amount of their time just trying to get back to each other. They'd never voluntarily chosen something like this… and he didn't want Sam somewhere that he couldn't watch out for him. Okay, so Sammy was an adult, whatever, but that didn't change the fact that he was fucking biologically programmed to keep Sam safe. He couldn't do that if Sam was over in the Middle East or where the fuck ever Crowley was dragging him, now could he?

And hunting without Sam? For a large majority of his life, he always hunted with Sam. It's not that he didn't like the idea of hunting with Cas, or anything – he trusted the ex-angel with his life, and Cas was damn impressive in a fight – but he just wasn't used to hunting without his brother by his side. They were Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. Brothers.

He internally berated himself for being such a wuss about all of this; it wasn't as if he couldn't get along without Sam. When his brother had been in college, he hadn't spontaneously combusted or had a mental breakdown or something. He would be fine. He told himself he was worrying needlessly. Sam could take care of himself, and if that failed, Bobby and Crowley could certainly handle anything that came their way.

Jesus, he just hoped that they didn't take long with this little research expedition of theirs. He already felt sick at the idea of Sam leaving. He didn't even want to imagine how he would feel once Sam was actually gone. His little brother may get on his last nerve from time to time, but it was worth it to keep him close and keep him safe.

He was very disappointed in himself when he realized that this felt a hell of a lot like separation anxiety.

A loud knock on his door startled him. He grimaced, pushing off his head phones. "Come in," he called. The door opened, and Sam entered his room, shutting the door behind him. Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Sammy. You don't need to come and have a 'talk' with me. I'm not a friggin' teenage girl."

"Really?" Sam asked. He sank down on Dean's bed, perching near his feet. "What do teenage girls do when they're upset, again? Go lock themselves in their rooms and…" He gestured at the head phones, which were still blasting Led Zeppelin. "Listen to music."

"The door wasn't locked."

Sam snorted. "Look, Dean, I know you don't want this. I'm not exactly jumping to do this either, especially given the fact that it could just end up being a tremendous waste of time, but if we've got a snowball's chance of getting rid of Xaphan before things get any worse, we have to take it."

"I already know all that, that's why I agreed to it." Dean sat up, sitting Indian style. "You don't have to convince me of anything. I already said to go for it."

"That doesn't change the fact that it bothers you."

"Of course it bothers me, Sam!" Dean burst out, frustrated. "I mean, doesn't it bother you? We've been attached at the damn hip since you were still in diapers, and now you're – you're running off on some quest to find the Garden of Eden? With Crowley? I mean, we've been apart before, yeah, but I've never had to sign off on it. That changes things, you know? I'm… I'm letting you walk away, and if something happens to you while you're over there? That's on me."

"No, it isn't on you. It's on me, because I'm the one who's responsible for my own well-being," Sam said slowly, then pursed his lips. Oh, he was getting the concerned face. Great. "Every stubbed toe I get isn't some black stain on your soul. I'm a grown man."

"I know, just…" He shook his head. "I don't know what the hell to say. I'm being a little girl about this, I get that."

"No, it's… I get it. I do. I mean, people always say we're codependent, and we don't talk about it… but we are. We are a codependent, needy, dysfunctional, unhealthy disaster of a brotherly relationship."

"Well gee, don't sugarcoat it, Sam."

"I'm being honest. We – we barely know how to get by without each other! The first time I died, you sold your soul, the first time you died, I turned into a blood junkie."

"Last time I died, you got a dog and girlfriend and settled down. You were happy," Dean pointed out.

"I was trying to be happy. And that was pure luck. I don't have half of a clue what would have happened to me if Amelia hadn't found me. I would've… God only knows what I would've done. Nothing good."

Dean sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "You got a point here, or are you just really want me to understand the fact that the two of us are basically wrecks?"

"I'm saying that we're both in our thirties – hell, you're pushing forty-"

"Please don't remind me."

"-and we have to learn to deal with this. We have to learn to be independent by choice, not just because one of us is in Hell or Purgatory. Someday, if we're lucky, maybe one of us is going to end up settling down with someone. We're not always going to be able to do the sibling act, no matter how much we want to."

"I thought you'd given up on the whole apple pie life thing?" Dean asked.

"I… I guess almost dying kind of changed my perspective. I'm young, Dean. I've got a lot of my life left. I could still do something more than this."

"What, you want to give up hunting?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just saying that things don't always have to be how they've always been. The two of us against the world. Haven't you noticed that we're slowly starting to fill this place up?" Sam gave him a weak smile. "Kevin, Crowley, Bobby, Cas… a month ago, the bunker felt empty. Now it feels kind of like a home, sort of. And we're legacies, right? Shouldn't it be our duty to maybe pick up where they left out?"

"…like organizing all the hunters? Getting some nerds on research, setting up a hub like Bobby wants to, only… bigger?"

Sam nodded, and he could read the careful excitement in his brother's eyes. "We could change things, Dean. We could change what it means to be a hunter. We could make it so it isn't all about death and pain. No more of that 'bloody or sad' crap. We could get organized. We could train people. Pool resources, share information, go in teams… it would take a long time, and a lot of work, but I think we could do it. And if we change what it means to be a hunter, we could change our lives." Sam huffed out a short laugh. "We could actually have lives."

Dean blinked, actually surprised by Sam's impassioned speech. "You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I have."

Dean tried to imagine this vision of his brother's, tried to picture a hunting community that was legitimately organized… well-trained teams of hunters dispatched by someone like Bobby or Sam to take care of a supernatural threat, armed with exactly what lore and weapons were required for the job. And when they were done… they could go home. The risk would still be there, but most hunters died because they were outnumbered, unprepared, or caught off guard – this operation Sam wanted to build up, it could save a lot of them.

Maybe, just maybe, hunters could get happy endings. Dog and a yard, then killing vamps on the weekends. It sounded almost too good to be true.

"I don't know, man. Sounds a little too X-Files, doesn't it?" He gave his brother a weak smile. Sam returned it.

"We can do it, I think. Once we deal with Abaddon and Xaphan and get the angels back home and Crowley back on the throne… we can start. If you want."

He could see what Sam was trying to do here. He was trying to give him a light at the end of the tunnel. After all this shit was put to bed – if they all lived through it – they could start working towards something good. Something that could save a lot of lives.

"Make it back to me alive, and we'll do it," he said quietly. He clapped his brother on the shoulder. "You just gotta make it back to me, Sammy."

Sam's expression softened. "I will. You don't have to worry."

They both knew that he would worry regardless.

"Good." Dean swallowed, and he realized that his eyes were burning. Oh, hell no. It was time to end this chick flick moment before they both started growing lady parts. He promptly shoved Sam off of the bed, and the other hunter thumped to the ground with a groan.

"What was that for!?" Sam snapped from the floor.

"I felt like it," he said, grinning over the side of his bed at Sam. His brother glared good-naturedly at him.

"Jerk."

Dean laughed. "Bitch."