7

Dean could feel the eyes over every person in the room on him as he spoke into his walkie-talkie. Even Amos took in the scene with wide eyes and an expression of awe on his face. When Dean finally put the speaker down, Amos snatched it up and stared to examine it from all sides.

"It's almost like the way my brothers and I speak with each other!"

Considering that Dean had labeled the angel's internal communication 'angel radio,' he couldn't argue the point. "A little bit, yeah."

"Oh, it's just amazing what you humans can come up with!" Amos tapped the speaker with his finger, and Dean hastily snatched it back.

"You have magic that even an angel does not understand?" Hannah's tone was hushed in awe, and she clasped her hands together as if praying. "You can save my grandfather!"

Dean felt a familiar pang at her hopeful tone. He didn't know what had happened to James Chilton yet. He had no idea if there was a way to save the man at all. But Sammy's puppy eyes were staring up at him, and it hurt so bad to crush that hope. "We're going to do everything we can."

Anne's expression tightened, lips pressed together in a disapproving line, as if she could see right through Dean. "Which means he doesn't know if he can help or not."

Hannah bit her lip, and a tear welled in her eye. Thomas patted her shoulder soothingly. "I'm so sorry. This must be awful for you."

Hannah nodded, and buried her face in Thomas' shoulder. Thomas, thankfully, was looking much better than before. He was sitting up now, and didn't look the same color as the white sheets. Dean's head had cleared a little, too, and he moved carefully across the cabin to unhook Thomas from the saline they had used to save his life. As he pulled out the needle, he looked over at Amos.

"A little help here? You can fix this."

"Oh! Well—but I'm not supposed to-" Amos wrung his hands. Without direct orders from heaven, he didn't want to act.

Dean rolled his eyes, resisting further comment on the angels obsession with following orders. He'd been there once. He knew how it felt. But that didn't make it any less frustrating to have to deal with. "Look, it won't hurt anything if you fix him up, and are you here to help these two anyway?"

Amos face cleared. "Well, yes. I am. I suppose...no. I wouldn't hurt." Amos leaned closer to Thomas and a glow of white light surrounded his hand for a brief moment.

Thomas stared at the small hole in his arm where the IV needle had been. The puncture wound had completely healed. With narrowed eyes, he peeled back the bandage from his neck. Anne gasped and touched Thomas' unmarked skin.

"Angels." She looked at Amos with a calculating expression. "Thank you." She crossed her arms, gaze flicking from Dean to Amos. "An angel and a man from the future, both here to save my brother on the same day."

Dean shrugged. "Well, what can I say. He's kind of important to us."

"Yes, but you wanted to leave earlier. Helping Thomas is not the reason you came here." Anne tapped the bowl which had contained the ingredients for their spell. "I heard you say that something went wrong. What are you really after?" Anne's gaze fixed on Dean and did not waver. It was like being in front of his father again, after have been out late at night, and John Winchester waiting for an explanation.

"We're looking for a man named Colt. We think he can fix something for us."

"Thaddeus Colt!" Thomas exclaimed. "He is a metal worker, but he's not here. He's back in England, studying with Joaquin Ganz."

"Ganz?" Dean frowned. The name sounded familiar, like he had skimmed past it in a book while looking for something else. "Is he a Man of Letters?"

"Yes. He is our finest metal worker and inventor. Thaddeus is his pupil." Anne frowned. "What is it that you need repaired?"

Dean eyed her carefully for a moment. Anne Winchester had already blackmailed him once. But Sam wanted more information, and the only way to get an explanation was to give one. Slowly, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the bundle of cloth when protected the Colt. He laid it in his lap and pulled back the covering, revealing the sad lump of disfigured metal.

"A pistol?" Anne asked. She ran her finger over the fat centerpiece which could house five bullets. "A pistol with five shots?"

"That's nothing. Every gun in the future can do that. This gun-" Dean paused. He still felt a thrill when speaking about the Colt. Of all the things in heaven and hell which he had dealt with, the Colt remained the most powerful and the most mysterious. "There are only five things in all creation this gun can't kill."

"He did it," Anne breathed in a hushed tone. "Thaddeus is going to figure out how to kill that yellow-eyed monster." There was a bitter bite in her voice. As if she had had to deal with old yellow-eyes personally.

How long had demons been haunting the Winchester family?

"Thaddeus doesn't, but one of his descendants does. And then I used it to kill that yellow-eyed bastard myself." Dean still felt a rush of warm fuzzies at the thought. It had been one of the more satisfying moments of his life.

A smile broke across Anne's face, filling it up with a dazzling warmth. "Good, and good riddance! But-" Her expression fell again, and the disapproving glare was back. "How could you let such a powerful weapon be destroyed?"

"Well, we didn't do it on purpose!" Dean retorted defensively. "And we're going to get it fixed. We would have it fixed by now, if you hadn't sopped us from leaving."

For a moment, Anne and Dean glared at each other.

"So, that's why you're here!" Thomas exclaimed. "The spell just doesn't have very good aim. I brought you to the ancestor of the person who made that weapon."

Dean frowned. "Thaddeus isn't here."

"No, but I am engaged to Thaddeus," Anne said. "He's planning to join me here as soon as he's learned everything he can from Ganz."

Dean felt a grin spreading across his face. He'd always felt a special connection to the Colt, and not just because she was the gun that could bring down the yellow-eyed demon. She felt like she belong with him, with them, part of the family.

Now he knew why. A long, long time ago, the Colts and Winchesters had been family.