Chapter title is from song by Queensryche.

48

Silent Lucidity - Queensryche

It was too early in the morning, so early that Sam wasn't even up yet, but he wanted to be sure he saw them off. He leaned back against the Impala when Zee came out of the adjacent motel room, drawing her leather jacket closer against the cold.

"So." He handed her one of the coffees he was holding.

"When we get to Xavier's, stay close, and don't wander off."

What?

"What?" He said out loud, not at all sure he heard her correctly, because that wasn't what he was expecting. At all.

"I called ahead. He's expecting us."

He spent a moment trying to wrap his head around what she was saying before his brows furrowed together.

"Us? As in, all of us? Why?"

She glanced at the closed motel room door behind her.

"It'll be easier. On Toby. If it's just one big goodbye."

He raised an eyebrow. "And Xavier agreed to this?"

Zee shrugged.

His eyes narrowed. Was this a trap? He couldn't think of any other reason that any hunter would let him within fifty miles of their house, unless the place was rigged like Zee's lake house had been rigged, devil's traps and demon wards everywhere you turned, and why not lock him up now that his part of the job was done? It made a warped kind of sense.

She looked behind her again, an inscrutable flicker crossing her face.

"He's been through a lot. Seemed like it would be easier to rip the bandaid off all in one go."

Easier for who? He stared harder at her as she took a sip of her coffee. He didn't really disagree, but was that really it? Because the job came first, and last he checked, he was still on the to-do list as far as that went. He'd have to be stupid to think otherwise.

She flicked a look at a car passing on the road, back to blankly neutral again when she glanced his way.

"Come or not. Your call."

Zee had said Xavier's place was "out in the country a ways", which made it sound much closer than it was. To say the place was remote was an understatement. If the middle of nowhere had a middle of nowhere, that's where they were.

They had turned off the road some time ago, and were now kicking up an announcing cloud of dust as they drove down the long dirt driveway. At the end of it was a weathered yellow Victorian, white painted scrollwork decorating the eaves of the wraparound porch. A little white picket fence ran around the house, doing absolutely nothing useful, as far as Dean could tell.

Something moved in the deep shade of the porch. Someone.

Dean stiffened. He'd gotten certain ideas fixed in his mind about Xavier, chiefly centered on Yoda. The Professor. Matlock. Mr. Miyagi. Ben Cartwright, at the very most.

The watchful shadow that separated itself from the wall of the Victorian was not small, not green, not white haired, and above all, not in any adequate way, old.

Beside him Sam sucked in an audible breath, feeling the danger vibe off the dark figure.

"Dean."

"Yeah, I know."

Zee had neglected to mention a few things about Xavier. Retired was not the word he would have used to describe the man watching them with hooded eyes from his guard position just by the Victorian's front door. Whipcord lean and about his height's worth of solid muscle, Xavier was one of those guys that would have sat in the corner of the roadhouse nursing a whiskey in silence, back carefully to the wall, and the other hunters would have left him the hell alone, even after the courage of a few beers, because of the giant flashing neon sign over his head that said do-not-cross.

Zee's Durango stopped at a random spot in the dirt, outside the little decorative fence that went around the house. Ahead of them Toby got out of the SUV slowly, looking around cautiously, and Xavier didn't move.

The door of the house burst open with a flurry of blonde. Strawberry blonde, curly in ringlets, looking around until the blonde spotted Xavier still stationary behind the now opened screen door. The flurry made a little cluck of reproach, before turning her attention to Toby and smiling at the kid, like a sunbeam and a summer day. She came down the short path between the house and the fence, her movements unhurried and slightly deliberate, like someone used to skittish things.

"You must be Toby."

Looking around and seeing two cars, she turned and smiled at them too, sitting stupid like petrified ducks in the Impala.

Zee came around the front of the SUV and put a hand on Toby's shoulder.

"Toby, this is Kim."

Toby didn't move. He kept both hands around his bottle of water.

The blonde nodded towards the bottle.

"Holy water?"

Toby blinked with surprise.

Kim held out a hand.

"Here. You'd best check."

Without taking his eyes off her, Toby uncapped the bottle. Zee kept her hand on the kid's shoulder as Toby reached out and poured a little splash of water on Kim's outstretched hand.

Nothing happened.

Toby replaced the cap on his water slowly. The kid scanned Kim's face carefully again.

"How do I know you're not something else?"

The blonde didn't seem at all surprised.

"Well, there are tests for that. But if we're going to do them all, you'd be better off checking me and Xavier out together. Saves time." Kim looked at the dark shadow on the porch, turned back, and winked. "That way we'll have more time for ice cream and cake later." She held out her hand. "What do you say?"

Toby looked back at Zee, hesitating.

Dean knew what that slight smile of reassurance for Toby cost her, that little nudge and nod. Toby took Kim's outstretched hand slowly, tentative, and Kim didn't hurry. She followed Toby's glance back towards the Impala and waved at him and Sam, friendly and sunny.

Don't be shy, come on out.

Toby's feet were still stuck to the ground. Zee gave the kid another little nudge forward.

"Go on. We'll be there in a minute."

In the end it was Sam that got out of the car first, shrugging into his sociable persona, introducing himself to Kim, exchanging pleasantries about the drive and the weather like any well-mannered guest. Sam flanked Toby's other side, and with seemingly random steps ushered them all up to the house. Sam was good at that.

Zee followed slowly, bringing up the rear. She glanced once at him, still sitting in his car, and left him to it. He wasn't sure getting out was a good idea. He could still feel Xavier's eyes on him, peeling away the surface of his skin, seeing the demon beneath. He resisted the urge to stare back defiantly, because he just wanted to get through this without incident. He grit his teeth before he pulled the keys from the Impala's ignition and opened her door, his boots touching the ground cautiously.

He stood. That was as far as he was going to go.

He leaned against Baby's hood, watching from this side of the fence. The little knot of them had stopped just shy of the porch steps, Xavier staying on the porch just outside the cloud of Kim's cheerful chatter, only half-listening. Dean knew where the other half of the man's attention would be. On him. Sizing up the situation, all the angles and permutations, working out for himself if things were really on the level and square.

Unaccountably Dean bristled on Toby's behalf, not that he would have done any different had he been in Xavier's shoes. Knowing that didn't make him feel any better, nor seeing the quiet word exchanged between Xavier and Zee—a history there he wasn't privy to. With effort he kept his expression neutral and examined his surroundings. There was another building a few yards away from the Victorian, low to the ground and blending into the landscape. Beyond that was just featureless land, scrubby and dry for miles and miles, stretching to the snow capped mountains on the horizon far beyond.

The burble of chatter from the porch faded indoors and Sam was heading his way again.

"Hey, Kim invited us to stay the night. Help Toby feel more settled in."

Dean froze, startled. He'd already had his hand on the Impala's door, ready to go. His glance up at Sam skipped past Sam, to the "retired" hunter that was still watching him from the porch.

"I don't think that's her decision to make."

Sam looked back. "I think he's alright, Dean." Sam paused. "Matter of fact, I can see why Zee thought this would be the best place for Toby."

He looked at the catch in Sam's voice when Sam said that, knowing where it came from.

"You okay?"

Sam shook himself. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" Sam looked off into the distance. "Kim reminds me of Jess a little." Sam paused again. "And she knows the drill—borax and silver, salt and blood." Sam laughed a little. "Only she said, a pinprick of blood ought to be enough, right? I'm not going to go all macho with a hunting knife like the rest of you guys. And you have to admit, she has a point there."

He could see it in Sam's eyes, wanting to stay. This was different, and Sam was intrigued.

There was movement from the porch. Whatever he had ultimately decided, watching them, Xavier was heading their way, long strides making short work of the path.

Dean straightened.

"Better head on up to the house." Dean didn't take his eyes off the approaching figure, his words light for his baby brother. "This is probably going to be a conversation for the adults."

Sam made a bitchface before he asked, low and cautious, "You sure?"

"Yeah. Go."

Closer up he could see the sparse gray in Xavier's dark hair, and feel the icy clarity of Xavier's gray eyes. The other man's face was hard and unforgiving; his words direct and clipped.

"Angels after you?"

The voice was faintly accented. English diluted by time, slightly sharp on the vowels.

"Yeah."

There was no point in lying. He was walking trouble; may as well admit it.

"Toby?"

Dean's lips pulled taut.

"Shouldn't be. Don't think so. Zee had him warded, anyway."

He was not happy about the way that had all gone down, half steps, even though that was all Cas could manage at the time. He was not happy if it was going to be an issue.

Xavier regarded the tense set of his shoulders consideringly.

"Step around the red rugs." Xavier instructed curtly as he turned to go back, paused, and glanced back. "It'll be all different next time." He added by way of warning.

The other structure he had seen earlier turned out to be Xavier's dojo, and it was where he and Sam bedded down for the night, unfurling their sleeping bags on the polished hardwood floor, a vast serenity of space all around them. He had been surprised when Xavier showed them here, although not surprised the man didn't want him under the same roof. Dean had stayed hushed, immediately aware this private domain was Xavier's own. The long room they were in took up the whole side of the building, austere and Spartan, the white walls and severe lines a complete contrast to the riot of color and coziness in the Victorian. There was floor to ceiling glass again—the transparent inner wall revealing a courtyard and the U-shape of the building. To one side was Xavier's forge, the other side his workshop, the small square of earth between them devoid of the expected garden, unsculpted land flowing inward instead, expanding out seamlessly to the horizon in the distance, like someone had framed the sky. From where he lay he could look out and see the stars, dusted across the night far above, like gazing into infinity.

Sam shifted in his bedroll beside him, staring, like him, at the winking constellations above.

"Do you really think it's possible? To retire?"

And he was 19 again, lying there in the dark, listening to Sam tell him about SATs and ACTs, a jumble of letters and scholarship applications, listening to Sam talk about The Time Beyond, going off to college, and getting away from all this.

"Looks like."

This house, this place, the jagged mountains beyond the plains, cradling the valleys where the meadows bloomed, it felt enduring and unchangeable, as if it could withstand all comers.

"God." Sam mused out loud, and somehow Sam even sounded 15 again, his voice touched with hopes and dreams, just speaking without really thinking about his words, talking to his big brother again. "I wonder what that's like."

Dean wondered too, watching Sam at dinner, Sam and Kim filling in the blanks with conversation until Toby chimed in, unable to help himself, and they rolled right along, carrying the tide with only an occasional word needed from Xavier or Zee or himself. They found things to talk about, the world and waffles and the Wyoming winters, poltergeists and that lame-ass imp that had plagued them to no end in Pensacola, seeing the Grand Canyon and the Four Corners, and it was so strange, how easy it all was, with Kim being mostly a civilian. And he wondered, watching Sam laugh again, if this was what Sam had been like at Stanford, before Sam got dragged back into the life, weighted down by blood and by destiny, by Letters and by Legacy, by his family and by his brother.

"I think Toby will be okay here." Sam offered into his silence, tentative and a little soft, like Sam was trying to apply gauze to an open wound without hurting him.

"Mmm."

"You've got to admit, some of their wards are pretty…" and Sam chuckled, because he could afford to be amused now, "unique."

It had been less fun, finding out about those wards the hard way, by sitting on them. A buzzy jolt that had sent him shooting straight off the couch and brought Sam to his side, hand on his arm, the living room suddenly thick with tension and too full of hunters and a demon and one small child, before like a sunbeam Kim burst in from the kitchen, saying, "Oops, not that cushion, Dean. I've been working on it, see here?" and she pointed to a symbol he recognized, embroidered and lost among the flowers and the leaves woven into the deep red of the heavy upholstery fabric. She looked at him, green eyes a shade darker than his own, wide with caring and either courageously or idiotically secure in her own home, took him by the hand over the tenseness in Sam's arm, and dragged him to a different seat, talking all the while. "I thought I got them all, but obviously, I missed one. Are you okay?"

He had nodded mutely. Stupidly.

"Good. Then sit." A little quirk of smile touched her lips. "But, you know, here." She pointed, and he sat, and her smile widened before she went on. "Xavier will give you guys the grand tour in a while, but let's have a…"she looked at him shrewdly, "beer first, yeah? It's a long drive from town."

He had looked over at Xavier then, astounded and unable to help himself, as Kim dove back into the kitchen for said beers. Optimism was a freak of nature. It had been beaten out of him, out of everyone he knew except…

Sam folded down beside him, inspecting the cushion before he sat, his voice low. "Dude."

He shook his head, a small motion. I'm good. I'm fine.

Sam breathed.

The two other hunters across the room hadn't moved during this entire exchange, but he felt them, felt weirdly outnumbered when he had faced down a roomful of demons easily for less. Then Toby plopped himself down on his other side, close enough to lean against him, and Xavier just watched him, watched them, those clear gray eyes assessing and cataloguing, looking for the chinks in his armor to file away for future use.

Zee stayed where she was. He didn't miss the way her feet were braced, so she could have moved in either direction.

"He'll have to be home schooled, of course. Kim said they have get together activities for all the home-schooled kids in the area a couple times a month so they get some social time."

Sam's mulling voice interrupted his thoughts, and really? School? That was what Sam was thinking about?

Sam's sleeping bag rustled as Sam turned slightly to face him.

"He'll be okay, Dean."

Okay, if the angels steered clear, if no monsters showed, if not!Judgment Day didn't happen, if the world didn't end, if someday he didn't go Dark Side and come back through here on a rampage. There were a lot of ifs in that. And somehow Sam was looking past all that, plotting Toby's education and mentally enrolling him in AP classes or something. Building the kid a future.

In The Time Beyond.

Was there one?

For a moment he wondered who was going to teach the kid all the really useful stuff, like how to hotwire a car in a pinch, how to take care of his wheels (because Zee still had that dent in her front fender and it was slowly driving him nuts), and how to play Texas Hold 'em in a hustle, because no one in their right mind was going to get into a poker game with Assassin Ninjas One and Two. He wondered who was going to rent all the Chuck Norris films, which he still considered necessary even if Xavier was the Real Deal.

Sam turned back over and was staring up into the night again.

"We can even swing by and see him sometime. Visit, you know?"

And how would that work? There was no place for the likes of him in The Time Beyond. There really hadn't been the first time, when Sam had gotten on that bus headed for California, and there certainly wasn't going to be now.

Evidently the same thing finally occurred to Sam, belatedly, slowly, putting the years heavily back in Sam's voice. "I mean, after we take care of Ramiel. We'll just swing by to check in on him, right?"

Was that a question?

"Yeah, Sammy. We'll do that. After we put a period to that douchebag archangel, we'll do that."

He was up with the sound of movement and the morning sun, although "up" was a bit of a misnomer since he hadn't really slept. He'd laid still watching the stars shift over the earth and the first rays of dawn creep across the land, listening to Sam's slow breathing, dreaming a good dream for once, a faint smile on Sam's face. Carefully he eased himself out of his sleeping bag and crept towards the dojo's doors, slipping out onto the deck/porch to see where the faint noise was coming from.

In the gray golden dawn where sunlight was still mist, Zee and Xavier were hauling straw figures into the open space between the house and the dojo, setting them up in a line along the edge of the field. They were both wearing long swords at their sides, full on ninja mode again, and looking carelessly normal about it.

There was the creak of a footstep behind him as Sam came out of the dojo.

"What's up?"

Dean nodded in the direction of the two figures.

Sam squinted and stayed silent, standing at his shoulder behind him.

The last straw figure placed, Zee and Xavier walked back to the first. He hadn't seen her use her long samurai sword since that first encounter in Dolgeville, and he'd forgotten—not how lethal she was, that was kind of hard to forget—but how fast she was with it. He barely saw her draw before she was moving, steel slicing clean through the straw figure's knees, without stopping traversing a diagonal line up, arcing and reversing down again, a mess of straw and straw limbs flying off everywhere and the straw man was in five pieces on the ground before he could say, "Hot damn."

"Hot damn." Sam said from behind him.

There was the sound of someone running across the gap between the house and the dojo as Toby came flying up and wrapped arms around him before he knew it. Quick as he did it, Toby let go.

"No one was around. I thought you guys had already left." The kid said by way of explanation and scrubbed his hands awkwardly on his jeans, looking down at his feet.

"Without saying goodbye? Come on. You know better than that. Look, we're watching the show." He reached out and turned Toby's attention to the practice field with a hand on his shoulder.

There was a silent conferral going on, Zee and Xavier looking down at the straw limbs scattered in a two-foot circle on the ground.

Then Xavier stepped back. Xavier paused, a moment of absolute, deceptively perfect stillness before his sword came flashing out, up-down-and-low across, the speed and power behind each stroke buzzing through the air and it was all over before Dean could even breathe.

And the straw man just stood there, like nothing happened.

A second ticked by.

The hay mannequin crumbled to the ground in six tidy pieces.

Sam let out a soundless whistle.

"Remind me not to piss him off."

Zee walked over to the pieces on the ground and examined them. From here Dean could see her frown. She made a distance gesture with both hands, a question that Xavier considered, before she kicked an arm piece away so that it landed a few feet away from the main pile, demonstrating what she wanted.

Zombies. She was looking for a way to hack up those enhanced vampire-demon-monster-eating zombies and get the pieces far enough apart so they couldn't reassemble before she could light 'em up.

Fuck.

Toby looked up at him with a silent question when Dean's hand tightened unconsciously on the boy's shoulder. He hauled in a breath, pasted a reassuring smile on his face, and eased up on his grip, while still swearing voluminously in his head.

"Roy and Jerry died. Hunting something, Garth wasn't sure what, up in a little town just past Madison. Garth said it's bad out there."

Jerome, Christa, Ralph. Jim and Mandy. Travis. Even accounting for Travis' inability to find his ass with both hands looking, the headcount of hunters biting the dust was way higher than it ought to be.

Xavier moved over to the third straw figure. What followed was as brief as it was brutal, just sheer raw strength coupled with exquisite precision. Straw body parts went sailing every which way and the swordsmith was sheathing his sword before the last part had even hit the ground.

"Damn." Sam breathed. "Wonder if that would work with a machete."

Dean hauled in another breath. Suddenly hunting poltergeists and imps and fucking garden gnomes didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. Sam had no idea—none—what it was like, Alfie, to have Alfie in his head, to feel Alfie's desperate and confused pain, the insane edge of Alfie's never ending hunger, to be surrounded by it, consumed by it, driven by it. And if Dean had his way, Sam never would. Sam had had enough in his life, Lucifer and Gadreel in his head, Azazeal's blood in his veins.

Except he knew Sam. He knew the way Sam's mind worked. This was the kid whose idea of a solution to the apocalypse was to body jump Lucifer into the cage to save the world. Now that Sam had gotten a whiff of the bigger picture, he knew, somewhere in Sam's noggin was something ticking away, working on the problem of Ramiel and the Book of Life, and there was a snowball's chance in Hell of talking Sam back to the safety of the bunker and sitting this one out. He could keep the zombies off Sam's back, until the day he became the problem, full on Darth Vader with a chokehold around Sam's neck, the First Blade comfortably bloody in his hand, and…

Dean stopped thinking.

The sun had cleared the edge of the earth. Bright rays glared off the high polish of Zee's steel blade as she drew. He was seeing the practice field in front of him with fixed eyes, everything lagging like slow motion, because in his mind he was in Cain's kitchen again, the Father of Murder's grip hard on his arm, keen blue eyes piercing on his face, tormented like Hell lived in Cain's soul. Bitterly understanding at last the thing that drove the promise Cain had extracted from him before divulging the First Blade's location, Cain's voice low and ringing with conviction.

"When I call you – and I will call – you come find me and use the Blade on me."