EIGHT

.

They broke out into bright sunshine.

Dean landed back in the carpet of green, a mighty "Oof!" telling tales of being winded. John bounced off him to one side. He rolled to a stop in the grass on his back, arms out wide. His coat was similarly sprawled, making them look like twins. Sam, panting hard and feeling all of him ache, sank to his knees. He dropped both machetes and sat back on his heels in gratitude.

Lily jumped up from her cross-legged wait and ran over to him. She grabbed his arm and yanked until he opened his eyes. "Sam? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, Lily, I'm good. We all are." He looked over at the other two. "We're good, right?"

John waved a hand up in weary reply. Dean coughed in air but he was nodding.

Lily got up and went to John. She leant on his shirt, rocking him. "John," she said in fear. "There's a lot of blood on your face. Did the faeries hurt you?"

"That depends," he managed, his voice rough. "Are you alright, love?"

"I am."

"Then I'm sound as a pound." He let his eyes close. "Sound… As. A. Pound."

Sam raised his eyebrows at him. "They almost killed you."

"'Almost' doesn't count," John grinned.

Sam looked around at the still summer's day. He took in the peace and serenity, the absolute calm of it all. He assessed the trees, the lush grass, and then squinted up at the sun. "Does anyone know where we are?"

Dean pulled himself up to sit, running a hand through his hair before twisting to survey the land. "I don't see a city round here. How far away are from the house? My car?"

"I have no idea," Sam said. He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped at it. "Well it's not—. Whoa."

"What?"

"I just got an SMS from the local service provider."

"And?"

"It says 'Welcome to 02 UK'. Then… it's telling me how much it costs to roam internationally." He frowned. "That's a lot."

"But does it say where we are?" Dean asked.

"This is England, mate. Glastonbury, at a guess," John announced from his back in the grass. "Occupies the same space as Avalon. Technically."

"Well that's just great," Dean sighed. "How do we get back home?"

"Uh… no idea," Sam said. He looked up at the sun, plans and their success rates going through his head, before the blistering sun reminded him of fire. "Hey," he said to Dean. "The branch - it worked."

"Told you," Dean said smugly. "If they wanted Lily so much, she was the only one who could have handed it back in there to you."

"I'm pretty sure," John mused, "that if you hadn't been in there with me and Sam, things would have gone very Pete Tong very quickly." He paused. "Whatever's eating you? Sort it out. It's not good."

Dean huffed. "Whatever works, man."

"Well you're all covered in boo-boos," Lily said, distinctly unhappy.

Dean looked at Sam, then John. "We do look a little scratched up."

"A little? Dean, we look like we've been trapped in a CuisineArt," Sam scoffed.

John raised his hand again, his eyes still closed against the sunshine. "I've got a bit of magic that'll clear that right up."

Sam smiled. "And could it get us home, too?"

"That's another story," John said.

"You mean no."

He opened his eyes and sat up slowly. "We'll have to work that out later. We have company."

"Who?" Dean asked, looking around.

John pointed upward.

The four of them craned their necks up to see a large shape, hanging in the air directly above them.

"A dragon!" Lily cried in excitement. She clapped her hands and giggled.

Sam and Dean felt their hands try to locate weapons in their belts.

John put a hand out for calm. "Wait," he said quietly.

The dragon, roughly the size of six Impalas parked bumper to bumper, dropped to a graceful landing in the grass. Not a single thing moved.

The four people stared. The dragon simply shook her long, sinewy neck in a manoeuvre that reminded Lily of a horse. She came forward, her hand out.

"Lily," Dean barked.

"She won't hurt me," she said happily. The dragon bent her front legs down and slewed her head down, and Lily stroked the long bone along her nose. "She's warm and soft! Like a snake!"

The dragon winked the eye on the side of her head closest to Lily, and she laughed. Then the creature lifted her head slowly, as if loathe to lose the touch of a small child. She raised her gaze to the three men.

"Oh shit!" John blurted. Sam and Dean tensed. John climbed to his feet and knocked the grass off his trousers as best he could. "Sorry, your majesty - I didn't recognise you." He bent his head down till he had to bend his body, affecting a bow that had him almost perpendicular, his hands straight at his sides.

Sam smacked the back of his hand into Dean's arm and copied John. Dean realised what was happening and followed suit.

"She's a queen?" Lily gasped in awe. "Is that why her body shines different rainbow colours when she moves?"

The dragon's mouth curved up at the edges. She lowered her head again. "You elders may stand," she rumbled.

Dean jumped in surprise, but all three men straightened up.

"You have my thanks," the dragon continued. "The young girl was in my land for far too long. Had I known she was there, I would have set her free. She has suffered terribly at the hands of some of my people."

"I'm sure you were busy with bigger things," John said.

"There is nothing bigger than a child," the dragon replied, her large, pearlescent eyes on Lily.

"It was ok," she said. "I'm just really hungry. And I miss my mommy and daddy."

"Of course you do," the dragon breathed. She raised her head high, looking down at the three men. "You have done me a great service. I will send you across these lands to your home." She swivelled her head at John. "You, mage. You may borrow energy from Avalon to repair the damage we have caused your frail bodies."

"Oh. Uhm, ta love," he said, surprised.

"You will find rewards awaiting you. It cannot compensate you for your expenditure, but I hope it shows my gratitude."

"We were just here for Lily, your - uh - majesty," Sam said awkwardly.

"Nevertheless, you shall be rewarded." The dragon straightened up. "I will take my leave. You will be home soon. All of you."

"Am I going straight to my own house now?" Lily asked, her face falling. "Right now?"

The dragon looked at her fondly. "Yes, child. Make your goodbyes."

Lily turned and ran at Dean. "Thank you! Thank you for making the faeries not steal me!" she cried, grabbing onto his leg and hugging.

He lifted her up and sat her on his arm. "Don't go telling your folks about all this. They'll say you had a dream, or put you in a special school. And we don't want that."

"Can I draw it?" she asked, her face sad.

"Sure. Tell them you made it up. Adults like to hear that," Dean said.

She grinned and wrapped her arms round his scratched up neck. "Thank you for saving me." She put up her arm, wrapped in cotton sleeve, and cleaned a bit of blood from his face. She aimed very carefully and pushed a kiss into the safe bit of his cheek. He smiled before letting her down to the grass. She went to Sam and he picked up her, to get a big hug and a kiss from her. "Thank you for making me not scared," she said.

"You are very welcome, Lily."

"I'm gonna draw you reeeeally tall," she giggled.

"Uh, thanks," he managed.

He let her down and she marched up to John. She tapped on his knee and he looked down at her. Her hands went to her hips. "You have to stop pretending you don't need your friends," she said sternly. "And don't smoke those cigarettes. They're very bad and they'll make you very sick. And I don't want my friends to be sick."

He smiled, crouching and putting a hand out. "Thank you."

"For what?"

He just waggled his fingers. She shook it and giggled, leaning forward and kissing his cheek.

She let him go, turning back to the dragon. "Ok, your majesty, I'm ready to go home now, thank you please."

The dragon's mouth curled up again and she lowered her head. "Then… you are home."

Lily vanished. Sam and Dean gave a start, but John walked back to his raincoat, still flung out wide on the grass as if it were sunbathing. He picked it up and pulled it on wearily.

"And you three," the dragon said. "You may visit us again. But please, go call on me first."

"Uh, yeah, sure, ok," Sam said, his eyes wide.

"Definitely - yeah - like - yeah," Dean gabbled.

"Are you read to go home?" the dragon asked. "It will take but a moment, then I must away. I cannot survive in your world for too long. Every moment I spend here weakens me."

John stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. "God save the Queen," he winked.

.

ooOoo

.

The Impala was startled, but not at all upset, to witness the abrupt blink that brought three familiar men back within ten feet of her rear wing. Their reflections in her bodywork were all about surprise, gratitude, and plain old relief.

Dean looked at his hands, then around at the car. "Baby," he breathed, going forward and touching at the line of her rear window reverently.

Sam turned to John. "Did you know that was going to happen?"

"What, that Dean would go weak at the knees when he realised his motor was alright? Something made that inevitable," he smiled.

Sam shook his head. "I've never seen a dragon like that, man."

"And you probably never will again," John said. He clapped his hands together and rubbed. "Now then. Who wants a bit of magic to stop 'em looking like a victim of a lawnmower accident?"

Dean turned from his car. "You sure this is safe?"

"Mate, it's a gift from Avalon, you heard Her Majesty," he grinned. "Besides, these cuts are really starting to bloody sting."

"Yeah," Sam said, pressing the back of his hand to his temple. "So… do what you do."

John bent down to the surface of the car park and grabbed at a handful of dirt. He hissed in slight pain as he dropped it again, then looked around. He found a rather sparse clump of dried out grass at the edge of the tarmac. He walked over and crouched to look at it. "Oh spirits of the land, of the air, and the sodding non-existent water - do me a favour and use your divine influence to get us some proper grass. The queen of Avalon herself said you could, just this once."

"You call that magic?" Sam asked, bemused.

John looked up at him - and the clump of grass suddenly rippled and reached upward. It grew another three inches in the space of two seconds, turning bright, vibrant green, thickening until it was lush and new. "Magic's just fancy words in the right order - trigger words, if you will. Telling someone that either you said they had to, or some higher power - either theirs or yours - said it had to happen." His eyes followed his hand down as he grasped a tuft and gripped it tightly. He closed his eyes and muttered something.

Sam took a step back as he saw the cuts and scrapes on John literally close over and sink into oblivion. Blood vanished, criss-cross wounds sealed up and faded away. It took barely ten seconds, sealing up all his injuries but turning the grass into dried up straw before their eyes. As John let go of the grass and stood up again, Sam and Dean marvelled at the amount of healing that had taken place.

John looked at his palms, then the backs of his hands. "Sorted."

"Our turn?" Dean asked hopefully.

"You're done," he smiled.

Sam and Dean checked the hands - and then turned to each other and pointed at faces, surprised and grateful in equal measure.

"Whoa - thanks, man," Dean breathed.

John said nothing, keeping his eyes anywhere but Dean.

He went to the Impala and unlocked her, squeaking open the driver's door. "Hey… didn't she say we were supposed to get rewards?"

"Dean," Sam tutted. "I think we could just be thankful we're not dead, and she let John use magic to heal us up."

John patted at his trenchcoat pockets, pulling out a mashed-up packet of Silk Cut. "Ahh… bollocks," he sighed. But his left hand pulled out another, brand new packet. He grinned and attacked the plastic wrapper to open it up, then ripped out the protective foil. He pushed it all in his trouser pocket as he looked for his lighter. His hand brought out another packet. He tossed it to the grass and pulled out another - and then another - and then another. "Bugger me," he laughed, as he pulled out one more packet. He found the lighter and noticed Dean watching him. He looked almost nervously at the Zippo. He flicked it on and a bright flame emerged. "Now that's magic," he grinned. He lit up a cigarette and sighed happily to himself.

"I don't get it," Dean said, shaking his head.

"Me neither," Sam said. He went to the trunk and opened it up, about to throw in the machetes. But he paused. "Hey, uh, Dean? When did we buy all this beer?"

Dean came round the boot to find three boxes of twenty-four bottles cheerfully sitting side-by-side on the false bottom. He scratched his head. "Ok, now that? That I can understand."

Sam smiled. He dropped the blades next to the beer instead of fighting to get it under the false floor, and just closed the boot lid.

Dean looked at John, enjoying his cigarette. He looked at the boot of the car and frowned. His eyes went back to John, then back to his car. He looked up abruptly and put his hand to Sam's jacket pocket, fishing out his phone.

"Hey - use yours," Sam said, bemused.

"No, dude - check it," Dean said, pressing a button on the phone to wake the screen. He turned it to let Sam see the top of the display, but John was too busy collecting up the strewn cigarette packets and stuffing them in his raincoat pockets.

"What the—." Sam took the phone from his brother, his thumbs going over the lock code to enable him to play with what he felt were important apps. They all clearly heard the tone announcing new e-mail, prompting Sam to look up in awe. "It's tethered to someone's wi-fi," he said. "Like… super fast, amazing wi-fi."

"That's the thing about magic," John said from round his cigarette. "It knows you better than you know yourself."

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, well. I am so done with magic for the next few weeks."

John pushed his cigarette into his lips and his hands into his trouser pockets. "So… we have a problem, yeah?"

Dean fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out the book. "Well it's still here," he said pointedly. "But we were on a mission, and you delayed us. So yeah, we have a problem. The only reason I'm not beating you to a pulp right now is cos, one, Sam's watching, and two, I don't have the time - thanks to you."

John looked at the tarmac, turning something over in his mind. "Look. You know what it's like. If we told people some of the shit we've seen, they'd lock us up. I mean, bugger me, I've been locked up in a loony bin, and they still didn't think what I believed in was real."

"I might know what you mean," Sam sighed.

"I stole your book," John said, meeting Sam's eyes now. He pulled the Silk Cut from his mouth. "I needed it more than you did - at least temporarily. I didn't tell you why I needed it because I didn't think you'd believe me, and going through it all would have slowed me down. I had a deadline before Lily was dragon food." He paused, turning something over in his mind. He inspected the lighted end of the cigarette in his hand. "I'm not sorry, fellas. And yeah, I would do it again, if it saved someone."

Dean's face took on the welcoming sheen of granite. "Well at least you're honest."

John grinned, shaking his head. "I've been called many things, mate, but never that."

"So you were gonna give us the book back?" Sam asked.

"I was," John said, looking him in the eye. "Believe it or not, I was going to take care of the dragon and bring it back to you." He paused. "'Course, I ended up needing your help, but… I always meant to bring it back."

"You could have just asked for it," Dean grumbled, but it looked as though the wind was seeping from his sails. "You didn't have to hang around with us all night, waiting for a chance to pinch it."

"You wouldn't have let me take it if I'd asked. And…" John looked at his feet. "This is going to sound lame, but…" He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders to look Dean in the eye. "I liked it. Just drinking in a bar, with people who could have been my mates in another life. All my friends are dead. I don't get an evening like that very often."

Dean avoided his eyes suddenly, choosing to assess the grass. "Yeah, well."

"You two should probably be careful," John groused. "People who know me end up dead or worse."

"Me and Sam both tried that - every which way," Dean said. "Didn't stick."

John grinned but Sam sighed, folding his arms. "Well we really need the book. And we're going to try it out, so—"

"Yeah, wait," Dean interrupted. He walked closer to John. "You said the book was useless. What did you mean?"

John tilted his head. "I meant it's useless. You can't use it on demons. That's what you want it for, right? Killing demons?"

"What? But you used it on a dragon," Sam protested, his face a picture of horror.

"Yeah - a dragon," John nodded. "Elementals, ethereals, Avalon folk and their kin - that's who it works on. Demons from Hell? Not the book's department."

"No," Sam said clearly. "I've read about it. I've got sources. It can exorcise a demon from a human host - it can hurt a demon."

John's eyebrows raised by themselves as he stared at the ground. He stuck the cigarette back in. "Sorry. It can't."

"But in Tobin's Guide, it clearly says—"

John looked up. "Yeah… that might be a bit… inaccurate."

Dean's face went a notch darker. "What?"

John scratched behind his ear, then pulled the cigarette from his lips. "It's a hoax. A bunch of drunken blokes got together and made up this list of spells an' that. They told tall tales of other books and what they could do. None of it was real."

"How do you know that?" Sam demanded.

"Uh… one of the blokes that did it? He was related." He shrugged. "I mean, it was what, a hundred years ago, but you know, I can't help finding it a bit funny."

"Funny?" Dean demanded. He grabbed John by the lapels on his trenchcoat. John dropped his Silk Cut in surprise as Dean dragged him near off his feet, their faces barely an inch apart. "Trust me pal, there is nothing at all funny about this."

"I can see that," John managed, his hands flailing in helplessness. "Um. Put me down, yeah? Tell me what the hell's going on and what you need to hurt a demon for. I might be able to help."

Dean's eyes burnt. John swallowed.

"Dean," Sam said quietly. "Come on, man."

Dean let go abruptly. John staggered back to get his balance. He slid his eyes to Sam as he straightened his shirt out.

Sam's worried gaze was on his brother. However, Dean was rubbing a hand over his face in weariness. "Ok, so… we're going back to the bunker," he said.

"John," Sam said, his eyes still on Dean. "We're asking for your help. You—"

"No," Dean said abruptly. "You owe us, John. If we find these people and they're not able to walk away from all this, then it's on you. Do you understand me?" he snapped.

John looked at the ground. Presently he stretched his neck right and then left, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. "Same-old same-old," he said quietly. "What do you need me to do?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. Sam sniffed and made sure his voice came out as annoyed as before. "You seem to know a lot about demons - and we have a puzzle. Why would a yellow-eyed demon tell us that every demon walking the Earth is looking for this book?"

"Oh, one of them bastards, eh?" John said. "They're just playground bullies. You kick 'em in the balls and make 'em realise they don't have any friends that will come to save them, and they start to talk pretty fast."

"We tried that," Dean said flatly.

"Have you still got him?"

"Oh yeah," Sam nodded.

"How long will it take to get to this 'bunker'?" John asked.

Sam looked at his watch. "About eight hours."

"Well then," John said as he walked round the side of the Impala, "we stop every so often for a fag break." He opened the rear door and looked back at them. "Wake me up in two." He got into the car.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Dean rolled his eyes, then went straight to the driver's door.

.

Thanks for sticking with this!