A new school hunter learns some old school tricks and Dean and Ben meet for the first time
Makoa pulled up in front of Dean's house just as Dean was locking the front door. He had a backpack slung over a shoulder and a large thermos in one hand. He trotted down the front stairs, pocketing his house keys, opened the passenger-side door of the truck, and climbed in. Backpack and thermos went on the floor between his legs, Dean buckled up, and waited.
"What was so important that you had to get?" Makoa asked, pulling away from the curb and heading towards I-25, which would take them straight to Boulder.
Dean rubbed his chin and stared out the front window. "I needed my laptop. It's got my dad's and granddad's journals on it. Couple of burner phones couldn't hurt. And something Garth said, about omens. Dad wrote about omens in his journal, and it was usually about witches, angels, or demons. So, I figured having a couple magazines of witch-killing bullets and devil's trap bullets would be handy. And then, there's this."
Dean pulled open his backpack and removed a hunting knife in a leather sheath. He unsnapped the guard and partially slid the knife out, revealing a shining blade with symbols etched into the metal. "Uncle Dean's demon blade."
"You just happen to have witch-killing bullets and burner phones lying around? Are you Jason freakin' Bourne? And what the hell are devil's trap bullets?" Makoa asked, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. A demon blade? Just what did Garth drop him into?
"I also keep silver bullets and bullets that have been dipped in dead man's blood. And they're not lying around, they're all in the gun safe," Dean remarked. "Devil's trap bullets can trap a demon that's possessed a person and prevent it from smoking out so it can be properly exorcized. The hope is, you can save the meat suit and banish the demon. And no, I'm not Jason freakin' Bourne. I'm Dean freakin' Winchester." He turned his head and stared out the side window.
Makoa looked at Dean before turning his attention back to the road. He understood only part of what Dean was talking about, and while the rest was in English, devil's traps and meat suits made no sense to the hunter. He decided to let it go, however, and figured now was the time to rip the bandaid off what happened earlier.
"Garth didn't send me to spy on you," he said, watching the road. "He didn't send me to Casper at all. It was pure coincidence. I was looking to move closer to my sister and Casper FD was looking for a new lieutenant, and whadaya know, Dean freakin' Winchester not only lives in Casper, but is friends with my sister and brother-in-law. I had no idea who you were… you saw my reaction with the tattoos and when you told me your name. I can't fake that kind of surprise."
"Then how did Garth know to call you to help me get my cousin?" Dean asked, securing the knife in its sheath and dropping it into the backpack.
"Garth and his crew keep track of all the hunters in the States," Makoa explained. "GPS, and crap like that. And he's kept track of you." Makoa looked over to Dean at this admission, then turned back to concentrate on driving.
"Why -" Dean began, when Makoa cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"Don't ask me, dude," Makoa said. "You're better off - you and your cousin - are better off hearing it from Garth directly."
"Let me know if you want me to take a turn driving," Dean said, and then nudged the thermos at his feet. "And there's strong coffee in this. Figured we'd need it."
"Mahalo," Makoa said, nodding his head. "Should we discuss a plan for when we get to your cousin's place?"
"What's there to discuss?" Dean asked. "Two complete strangers show up at his door and have about 15 minutes to convince him he might be in danger and has to come with us now, or we bash him over the head and kidnap him."
Makoa gave Dean a horrified look and swerved the truck onto the shoulder of the road before correcting. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Relax, I was only mostly joking," Dean said with a smirk. "How long have you been a hunter?" he asked, completely changing the subject.
"Three years. I was responding to a fire, and once we got it under control, things started getting weird," Makoa explained. "Turns out it was a lapu - a ghost. That set me on the path."
"So you basically deal with what? Ghosts, witches, vampires, and other assorted monsters?"
"Well, yeah," Makoa answered, glancing over at Dean. "I mean, what else is there?"
"What do you know about the type of hunting that went on 40, 50 years ago?" Dean asked. "What do you know about my family?"
"Not a whole lot," Makoa replied with a shrug. "I know hunters of your dad and uncle's generation had to deal with angels and demons for a while, but then something happened, and they kinda disappeared. Well, except for crossroads demons. I don't think they'll ever go away."
Dean stared out the window silently, watching the scenery race by. To say Makoa's version was an oversimplification would be like comparing the sun to a flashlight. He exhaled loudly and rubbed his eyes. "Look, my family's history as hunters and even as Men of Letters -"
"The Lettered Society," Makoa interrupted.
"The what now?" Dean looked over at Makoa in confusion. "It's the Men of Letters.
"No, it was the Men of Letters," Makoa clarified. "But with no actual members, it was renamed The Lettered Society so as not to Retain the Appearance of Continued Misogyny and Continued Perpetration of Gender Stereotypes."
Makoa sounded like he was reciting the title of a dissertation and at Dean's look he shrugged and explained further. "Not that they're wrong, but Charlie's Angels decided that since the American chapter of the Men of Letters was defunct, the more scholarly branch of hunters should be renamed."
"Charlie's Angels?" Dean asked with an arched brow.
"LaGuin, Jemisin, and Mary Shelley Bradbury, Charlie's daughters. You do know who Charlie Bradbury is, right?"
"Of course, Dean scoffed. "She's mentioned several times in my dad's journal. He and Uncle Dean thought of her as a sister. Hold on, LaGuin and Mary Shelley, I get those references. Who is or was Jemisin? And isn't referring to them as Charlie's Angels misogynistic?"
"NK Jemisin, African-American fantasy author," Makoa explained. "And yeah, you'd think they'd hate the nickname, but they said something about reclaiming it, plus the women on the show and movies were kickass… or something along those lines."
Dean shook his head, suddenly uncertain about the tangent the conversation had taken. "You know what, we'll continue this particular conversation later, probably with Ben, because chances are, he'll need to hear it too. As for how to get Ben to go with us… we'll tell him the truth and hope for the best."
He leaned forward and turned the radio on. The bassline of Fall Out Boy's Just One Yesterday filled the truck with a thrumming. Dean arched an eyebrow, nodded slightly in appreciation, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned his head against the passenger window, signaling the discussion was over.
The rest of the drive passed in a strained silence with no real conversation other than the occasional request for coffee, soft humming to a favorite song as it came on the radio, and Dean telling Makoa he'd drive when they stopped for gas, the bathroom, caffeinated drinks, and sad looking burritos at a random Gas-N-Sip. Ten minutes from Ben's apartment, Makoa broke the silence.
"Maybe let me take the lead on this," Makoa said. "You've never done anything even remotely like this. Plus, if I come off as the bad cop, it won't affect any potential relationship you can have with your cousin."
"You've got the experience here," Dean replied, pulling into a parking spot across the street from Ben's apartment. The two men got out of the truck and Dean loaded his ivory-handled Colt with the magazine of devil's trap bullets. He snapped the knife sheath to his side, and took out his phone. Makoa pulled his Glock from the glove compartment, tucked the gun at the small of his back, and pulled his t-shirt over the gun.
Makoa and Dean crossed the street and headed into Ben's building, pushing through the unlocked front door. They stepped into the elevator, and Makoa pressed the 5th floor. "His apartment is 513."
Dean nodded and stared at the indicator lights, moving forward as the elevator dinged and the doors opened on the 5th floor. He exited and looked right, while Makoa stepped off the elevator right behind him, looking left. They heard a crash of glass and a shout that had both men immediately running towards, drawing their guns as they made their way down the hall. Dean glanced at the open door - 513 - and stepped inside.
Two men were struggling, one man had his hands around the other's throat and had him pushed up against a wall. Broken picture frames and glass littered the floor, and the man being strangled was desperately scratching and pulling at the other man's hands, his face a deep red. Dean held up his phone, and suddenly Sam Winchester's voice could be heard. Makao stood behind Dean, unable to comprehend what he was hearing or seeing.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii," the voice intoned.
The man doing the strangling stepped back with a roar and turned to glare at Dean, dropping the second man, who fell in a coughing heap. Black eyes stared at Dean, and the man tilted his head back and opened his mouth wide.
"Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica," the recording continued to drone.
Dean raised the gun in his hand and shot the black-eyed man in the shoulder. The man roared again, staggering back.
"Ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!" With the last words of the recording spoken, the black-eyed man's head snapped back, his mouth opened wide, and black smoke began billowing out towards the floor. When it hit the floor it burned a ring around the man and disappeared. The man collapsed.
Dean pocketed his phone and ran over to his cousin while Makoa went to attend to the intruder. Dean knelt by Ben, shaking his shoulder. "Ben? Hey, Ben? Wake up, man, we have to get out of here."
Ben opened his eyes, and shook his head to clear it. "What -" His eyes finally focused on Dean and he sat back. "Who the hell are you, and what the fuck just happened?"
Dean glanced over his shoulder at Makoa and the intruder. "I'm Dean, your cousin. I'm sorry to push up the timeline of getting to know each other, but we gotta get out of here before that guy's buddies show up."
He started pulling Ben to his feet. "Makoa, leave him, we have to go now."
Makoa looked over at Dean in a daze, despite the fact he'd done nothing. "We can't just leave this guy!"
Dean was pulling Ben towards the door while trying to convince Makoa to get his own ass in gear. "I'll call 9-1-1 from a burner in the truck. Dude, we have to leave now!"
Dean propelled Ben down the hallway and gave him a light push at the stairs. Ben was clearly in shock and was moving mechanically. It took all of Dean's willpower not to shove his newly met cousin to get him moving faster. Makoa followed, and picked up his pace, grabbed Ben by the arm, and the three men clattered down the stairs, out the building, and across the street to the truck. Makoa shoved Ben into the back seat, Dean ran around to the front passenger side and climbed in, while Makoa levered himself into the driver's seat. Without a word, he started the truck, and with a squeal of rubber, they were off.
As if the motion of the vehicle flipped a switch, Ben and Makoa began talking to Dean at once, voices getting louder to be heard over the other, and as the adrenaline began wearing off and just sheer panic remained. Dean held up his hands to ward off the onslaught of noise, and started yelling as well.
"SHUT UP! I can't hear either of you if you're both talking at once! Ben, are you physically okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. What the hell just happened?" Ben said with a nod. "Why was I just attacked by a demon again, after all this time?"
"Again?" Dean and Makoa said in unison.
"Years ago. Mom and I were kidnapped by a bunch of demons. Dean - Dad, I guess - came to find us, but a demon possessed Mom," Ben looked at Dean in horror. "Mom! I have to get her! We have to go back to her place and protect her!"
Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.
"Garth, it's Dean. You need to send a team to get Ben's mom. We ran into a demon when we went to get Ben."
Dean listened for a few moments. "I'm telling you it was a demon. Black eyes and all. What do you mean what did we do? I played a recording of an exorcism I had from my dad, and once I was able to properly identify the demon, I shot it with a devil's trap bullet, and finished the exorcism. That reminds me -"
Dean moved the phone from his ear and handed Ben a burner from his backpack. "Call 9-1-1 and tell them a neighbor shot an intruder at your place. Whatever you do, don't give them your name or be specific about which neighbor. Once you've given the information, toss the phone out the window. Oh, and Garth already sent someone for your mom. We'll meet her at Garth's."
He put his phone back to his ear and continued his conversation with Garth. "I know Makoa is an experienced hunter, but he's also an AfterJack hunter. If we'd met with a vampire or ghost or a rougarou or any number of other monsters, he'd have kicked some serious ass. But we met with a demon. And as you said before, we haven't seen one of those in 30-odd years."
Dean listened for a minute or so, as he rummaged through his backpack, not noticing how quickly he'd slipped into On The Job Hunter. But Makoa noticed. And Ben just looked confused, but given direction, he did as Dean told him.
"Listen, Garth, we'll talk more once we get to you," Dean finally said. "In the meantime though, you might want to tell your network to find tattoo artists who can give hunters an anti-possession tattoo, for added protection."
Without so much as a goodbye, he ended the call, turned in his seat and showed Ben the tattoo on his right forearm. "Do you have one of these tattooed anywhere?"
Ben shook his head as he closed the window, having tossed the phone. Dean handed him a leather cord necklace with a pentacle in sunburst charm he pulled from his backpack.
"Put it on," Dean ordered Ben. He turned to face forward, dropped his phone into his lap and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest. "I can feel you vibrating with wanting to ask me questions, the both of you. But please, just give me 30 minutes of silence so I can come down from whatever the fuck that just was."
Ben nodded and settled into his own seat. Makoa adjusted his hands on the steering wheel and concentrated on the asphalt ahead of him.
"You know," Dean said, sitting up straight, not five minutes into his requested silence, "if demons are coming topside again, I wonder -"
Dean closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Castiel, uh - hear my prayer?"
There was a sound of fabric fluttering and a deep, raspy voice said behind him "hello, Dean".