"Hello, Dean," a deep, raspy voice said behind him.

The reaction in the truck was immediate and loud. Ben screamed a high pitched shriek and backed up against the door, nearly strangling on the seatbelt. Makoa, startled by the strange voice and Ben's reaction, glanced in the rearview mirror yelling "shitfuck" repeatedly and ran off the highway, the truck bucking in and out of a shallow ditch and stopping just shy of some trees. Dean's head bounced off the side window and he bit his tongue. He grimaced as he touched the side of his head. His fingers brushed an angry knot and came away wet with blood, and he tasted blood in his mouth. He twisted in his seat, turned on the overhead light and blinked at the newcomer.

"You're -" Dean grimaced at the pain of his bitten tongue and the egg on the side of his head throbbed. "You're Castiel."

"I am," Castiel confirmed in a monotone. He looked at Ben and then Makoa before turning his attention back to Dean. "We need to talk."

"Well, talk then," Dean said, waving at Ben and Makoa. "Ben is a Winchester by birth and Makoa is a hunter. I'm sure whatever you have to say to me will affect them and other hunters."

Castiel looked at Dean and then the other two before coming to a decision. "It would be best if I spoke while we continued driving. There's no telling what might be following you."

Makoa glanced at Dean who shrugged and shut the overhead light. Makoa put the truck back into drive, carefully maneuvering onto the highway. Ben stopped trying to climb up the door and stared at Castiel. "I remember you," he whispered. "You were at the hospital when my mother almost died when she was possessed. You took our memories."

"I also healed your mother," Castiel said, looking at Ben blandly. "She would have died otherwise."

"But why erase our memories?" Ben asked.

"Your father felt taking your memories of him would protect you," Castiel answered. "And it did. For years. But now your memory is restored and it's causing problems."

Castiel looked between the cousins reproachfully. "It seems that once again, a couple of Winchesters are responsible for another world-altering event."

"What the hell are you talking about, Castiel?" Dean asked. Ben looked shell-shocked, and Makoa, while concentrating on driving, both wished he was anywhere else and was fascinated with the events unfolding in his truck.

"When Jack and your fathers defeated Chuck," Castiel explained, "and Jack replaced Chuck as God, angels and demons no longer walked the Earth. We went back to our corners, as it were. But the two of you finding one another triggered Ben regaining his memory of his mother's possession and the time his father actually spent in his life, and has caused a reset of some kind."

"So, what," Dean said, looking concerned, "Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel - Crowley - they're back too?"

"I don't know," Castiel said. "When I do, I will let you know."

Dean looked out the window for a moment. There was a rustle of fabric, and when he turned back, Castiel was gone.

Makoa spared a glance over at Dean. "Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do. And your half hour expired when your cousin nearly climbed out the moonroof and I nearly wrapped my truck around some trees."

Dean sucked air between his teeth and carefully leaned his head against the headrest. "I don't… where… how much… fuck. Okay, the cliff notes version. About 40-odd years ago, my dad and uncle were kind of involved in this demonic plot to release Lucifer from his cage and the demons from Hell. And then Castiel showed up, and then my dad and uncle were kind of involved in the Apocalypse. And then when that mostly didn't happen, it was discovered that big-G God - whose real name apparently was Chuck - went on a walkabout, so that sparked an angelic power grab, and then at some point all the angels fell from Heaven which really kicked off a civil war. And then Chuck changed his mind and decided to retcon the world, but Jack - who was a nephilim fathered by Lucifer but was basically raised by my dad, uncle, and Castiel - managed to absorb all of Chuck's power and became the big-G God. And he sent the angels and demons back to where they belonged and decided to leave the world to the humans. Hence the term AfterJack - it's the hunter timeline when Jack became big-G God, you know, like BC and AD."

"That's the most fucked up thing I've ever heard," Ben said quietly from the back seat. "And my mother was possessed by a demon."

Dean looked at Makoa who seemed to be concentrating on driving. "You never heard the stories, Makoa?"

"Dude, I've been a hunter for only three years in Hawai'i," Makoa replied. "I got the practical education, not hunter history 101."

Dean ran fingers through his hair, careful not to brush over the knot on the side of his head. He leaned forward and popped open the glove compartment. "You have any painkillers in here? My head is killing me." Rummaging past paperwork and a handgun, he pulled out a bottle of acetaminophen. He twisted the cap off, shook out three tablets, and dry-swallowed them, before tossing the closed bottle back. "We gotta make all haste to Garth so I can update him and he can get word out to the rest of the hunters."

Makoa nodded, lightly pressed down on the gas, and the truck raced east through the night.

Two hours later, the truck pulled into a gravel driveway and the three men got out, exhausted and sore. Ben had a red welt around his throat, Dean still had a lump on the side of his head and dried blood along the side of his face, and Makoa's eyes felt gritty from the hours of night driving. Dean slung his backpack over a shoulder and grabbed the empty thermos. As the trio headed towards the front door, it opened and a short, thin man was outlined in the doorway.

"Glad to see y'all made it, boys," the figure drawled, stepping back into the house to allow the newcomers entry. "Wish we were meetin' under better circumstances."

"Good to finally meet you, sir," Makoa said, extending his hand. Garth shook the proffered hand and slapped the large Hawaiian on the shoulder before turning his attention to Dean and Ben.

"Boys, it's a pleasure," Garth said with a smile. "And fair warnin', I'm a hugger." And with that said, Garth pulled first Dean and then Ben into a fierce hug. "Let's get over to the office, we got a lot to discuss and lots of folk need to be updated."

The three younger men followed Garth through the living room and into the kitchen. A woman was washing dishes and she looked over her shoulder as they all trooped in. "Bess, honey," Garth said, pointing to each as he introduced them to his wife. "Dean, Ben, and Makoa. I'll be takin' these fellas out to the barn."

Dean, Ben, and Makoa nodded at Bess, mumbling "ma'am", "good to meet you", and "thanks for the hospitality" in unison. Bess smiled and wiped her hands on a towel. "Gertie and the boys are already out in the barn, and I sent them with food and iced tea. And bunks are already made up. I imagine you boys are hungry and tired." Looking over to Garth she shook a finger at him. "Don't keep 'em up all night. Y'all can talk come morning."

"Yes, dear," Garth said with a smile and opened the back door. "Let's go boys, food and conversating awaits."

Dean, Makoa, and Ben followed Garth out back and up the path to a large barn. Garth opened the side door and stepped into a large, well-lit building that was a barn in name only. Half of one wall had a large map of the United States and there were desks all over with computers and large monitors. Most were dark at this late hour, but the kitchen area was brightly lit and three people stood by a dining table, talking softly. The second story was a loft and there was a spiral staircase in a corner.

"Ben, Makoa, Dean, these are my kids," Garth said, pointing to each of his children as he named them. "Gertie, Sam, and Castiel. Now, why don't y'all help yourself to fried chicken, corn on the cob, macaroni salad, and ice tea, and we can talk while y'all eat."

None of the newcomers needed to be invited twice. Plates heaped with food and glasses brimming with tea, everyone took a seat around the table. With barely contained manners, Dean, Makoa, and Ben dug into their food, hardly pausing to chew, swallow, and breathe for the next fifteen minutes. Dean pushed away his plate, took a long swallow of ice tea, and sat back with a sigh. He picked at the crusted blood on the side of his face and turned to Garth.

"We had an interesting visitor on our way here," he said. "In addition to a demon trying to kill Ben, Castiel made an appearance."

"But that's -" Gertie started to say, looking at her father.

"He said with Ben and me getting in touch with each other, it's reset some things but he's not sure about specifics, other than angels and demons can come Earthside again. He doesn't know if it means that the likes of Lucifer, Michael, or Crowley are back too."

Garth stood up and walked over to a large safe. He pressed the code into the keypad and it opened with a click. Garth pulled the door open, reached in, and pulled out a small box. He carried it back to the table and handed it to Dean.

"What is this?" Dean asked.

"It's the key to the bunker," Garth replied. "I think with angels and demons back in play, we need access to it and all it contains. And only you or your cousin can open it back up, son."

"What do you mean?" Ben asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Well, you're Men of Letters legacies," Garth explained. "When Sam locked the bunker down after Dean passed, he gave me the key for safekeeping. With angels and demons gone, there wasn't a real rush for us to have access to the bunker, especially since hunters had managed for decades without it. But only Men of Letters can open the bunker."

Garth glanced over at Dean. "We respected your father's wishes to not get him involved, but that don't mean we didn't try on our own. Key doesn't work for anyone but Men of Letters. And you and Ben are the last of the legacies. And I think we need to open the bunker."

Dean toyed with the ring of condensation on the table left from his glass. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Garth. I know you tried convincing my dad for years to open up the bunker, and he refused." He picked up the glass and sipped some tea.

"I don't think we have a choice now," Garth said argued with a frown. "If demons and angels are back, and there's even the slightest chance Lucifer, Michael, and Crowley are back as well, we need everything in our arsenal, and that includes whatever's in that bunker."

Garth walked over to where Dean was sitting and put a hand on his shoulder. "Son, I know what it cost your dad, but you've got an obligation -"

Dean stood suddenly, his chair tipping back and falling with a clatter. He shook Garth's hand off and turned, looming over the older man. "I'm not your son," he said, shaking in anger. Sam and Castiel quietly stood up, one of them growling softly. Garth looked over at his sons and gave a minute shake of his head. The growling stopped, but neither men sat down.

"You have no idea what it cost my father," Dean said, still in Garth's face. "When Uncle Dean died, my father didn't just break. He shattered. If it weren't for Jack bringing back my mom, and Charlie, and Bobby, and Donna, my dad would have eaten his gun on Uncle Dean's pyre. He couldn't go back to the bunker and all the memories it held. Not even to unlock the front door."

He stepped back suddenly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He grabbed his glass and threw it against the wall and loomed over Garth once again. "And don't talk to me about obligation, old man," he shouted. "My father was the first Winchester and Campbell to die of natural causes in over a hundred years and he still didn't live to see 70! My family sacrificed generations and shed an ocean of blood in our obligation as hunters."

Dean staggered, seeming to come back to himself. He rubbed his eyes with a hand and then let the hand drop to his side with a sigh, exhausted. He was about to ask where a broom was when Gertie's phone rang. He went into the kitchen to find it himself as Gertie answered her phone and had a quiet conversation. He was sweeping up glass, too angry and embarrassed to look at anyone, when Gertie ended her call.

"That was Mary Shelley," she said to Garth, sparing a glance at Ben. "They got to Ms. Braeden's place and she wasn't there. There - there were signs of a struggle."

Ben paled. "Mom…"

Dean straightened from sweeping and sighed. "Sonovabitch. Well, that was a waste of righteous indignation. How far are we from the bunker?"