Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.
This fic is both a standalone and a prequel. The fic that's going to follow will, as I said before, start in S1 and explore the ripple effect of Henry having fallen into 1992 rather than 2013. But reading this fic isn't really necessary for that, so I'm publishing this fic now and then I'll start to write that one. It probably won't be published for a long while, though – due to my poor writing schedules and ethics in the past, I now refuse to publish a story until I've written a good part of it so that I know I won't ditch it in a hiatus. I'm also writing Variables and Moments at the same time as this, so there's that to consider.
Thanks for your attention and enjoy the chapter XD Also, thanks to LaughingLadybug and EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester for reviewing. You guys are seriously awesome! :D
The next morning, John was roused from his deep sleep by the delicious smell of frying food. Groaning and pushing himself up into a sitting position, he saw Henry standing at the stove in the small kitchenette with one of the pans that John lugged around with them (because how else was Dean supposed to cook Sam his food when John was on a hunt?). Sam and Dean were sitting at the table nearby, their faces reflecting their eager anticipation.
"Morning, John," Henry smiled when he noticed that his son – well, his half-brother now – was awake.
"What're you doin'?" John mumbled sleepily, swiping a hand across his eyes. Usually he never slept so deeply – if you were hunting then that could be a death sentence. But last night had been one of the best sleeps of John's life – for the first time in a long time, he'd actually slept for more than five hours! And judging from how refreshed he felt, John was certain that he'd needed that long sleep.
"Making breakfast," Henry replied. "I took Dean to the store and he showed me how to use one of your counterfeit credit cards – which, incidentally, I don't approve of but I suppose that it is the only way you can survive on a hunt as you don't have a job. This is the least I can do for you. I remember how much you used to love it when I cooked you a big breakfast."
Yes, that did bring back fond memories. John could remember how, on special occasions, Henry would get up early and whip up a massive breakfast for him and Millie, who had always appreciated the chance to relax. These skills had been passed on to Dean, who had excelled at cooking from a young age, but the one time Sam had tried to cook had turned out simply disastrous. John wasn't keen for a redo.
"You didn't have to," John said, pushing himself to his feet and crossing over to sit with Sam and Dean.
"I wanted to," was Henry's simple response. He tipped the contents of the pan onto a plate and then divided the food between three other plates, keeping a small amount on the original plate. It took him two trips to transport the plates to the table and John's mouth nearly watered when he caught a whiff of the bacon, eggs, sausages and fried potatoes and tomatoes that were heaped on his plate. He hadn't had a feast like this in ages! Sure, he always bought greasy diner food for breakfast but nothing beat a meal like this!
"Thanks, Grandpa!" Sam said, his eyes shining. Dean was already digging in.
"Thanks, Gramps," was all he said after swallowing before taking another bite. John just nodded.
"It's nothing," Henry said, pleased. "Just think of it as my way of starting to make it up to you."
"Sam, Dean, he's not your grandfather anymore. Remember?" John said. "He's your Uncle Henry now."
Sam nodded but Dean just shrugged.
"Sure thing, Henry," he said. John was about to tell Dean off but Henry cut in.
"It's okay, John," he said quietly. "I wouldn't expect him to immediately respect me just because I'm family. Respect must be earned."
John knew that Henry was right and he also realised with a shock that Henry had earned just that from him last night after standing up to him. No one who knew him had had the courage to stand up to him in years and maybe that kick up the ass had been just what he needed. He also knew that Henry was right and that he needed to start putting Sam and Dean ahead of hunting. But he needed to make sure that his boys could protect themselves! What if a monster got them in revenge for his hunting, or just because it was a monster? What if the demon that had killed Mary came back for them?
"So!" Henry clapped his hands, jolting John out of his thoughts. "John, have you come up with a plan of action?"
"You're the nerd here," John muttered, taking a bite of bacon. "I'm just the uneducated, barbaric hunter." However, there was no venom in his words and Henry smiled, taking the jab as the banter it was.
"I think that we should visit Larry today," he said. "He can tell us exactly what is in the box. And as an elder, he may know a way to kill Abaddon that I don't."
"Who's going to see this Larry dude?" Dean asked as he polished off the last of his food.
"We all are, Dean," John said firmly. "Safety in numbers. We split up, Abaddon picks us off easily. You're not staying here alone with Sam with a demon this powerful."
Dean just shrugged and slapped Sam's hand when his younger brother tried to steal his last bit of bacon but, with an exaggerated eye roll, ended up giving it to Sam anyway.
"Your sons seem close," Henry observed to John quietly.
"They are," John nodded, feeling pride begin to swell in him. "Dean would do anything to protect Sam." It did hurt that Dean and Sam were closer than he was to them but really, it was to be expected.
"Ten minutes, boys," he said. "Then we move out. Sam, stop annoying Dean."
Dean shot a triumphant smirk at Sam, who scowled and finished his breakfast.
-ATGB-
About an hour later – after making a quick stop at one of John's storage units nearby to hide the box in case Abaddon caught up with them, because going to visit Larry was really an obvious move – the Winchesters pulled up in front of a nice little house in Lebanon, Kansas, and got out of the Impala. John noticed Henry running his hand across the side of the car and couldn't help the grin that broke out on his face.
"1967 Chevy Impala," he said to Henry, whose hand jerked slightly in surprise. "Got it back in '73. I was gonna get some horrible beige piece of crap because Mary asked but some stranger by the name of Dean Van Halen turned up and told me this baby would still be badass when she was forty. She's not forty yet but damn, was he right. I'm glad I didn't get that other monstrosity."
"And this Dean Van Halen?" Henry said.
"Never saw him again," John shrugged. "But I'm glad he turned up when he did. It's like I was destined to have this car."
Henry gave him a smile and went to break up Sam and Dean's fight over who got the last handful of potato chips in the bag their father had bought them to share. John realised that it had felt…nice to share one of his stories with his father. And in a small way, he was glad that he hadn't had Henry – he'd never have moved to Lawrence, met Mary, bought the Impala and had Sam and Dean, though that didn't make it okay and erase years of hurt and loneliness.
"Can I help you?" a woman with short brown hair said when she answered the door. Henry took charge.
"My name is Henry Winchester, madam, and this is my brother, John, and nephews, Sam and Dean. I have it on good information that Mr Larry Ganem lives here. We would like to speak to him if at all possible."
The woman eyed him suspiciously.
"I'm sorry but I'm afraid that I don't know any Larry Ganem," she said. "And my husband Tom isn't accepting visitors." She went to close the door.
"Wait!" Henry stuck his foot in the door to stop it from closing. "Please! Just tell him that Henry Winchester is here to see him. He'll know who I am!"
"Fine." The woman closed the door. John could hear her footsteps fading as she walked further into the house and, after a moment, she returned to open the door and favoured them with a much warmer look than before.
"Larry's eager to see you, Henry," she said, gesturing them inside. In the living room was an elderly man who squinted around at them as they entered but didn't seem to actually see them. John realised that he was blind.
"Henry? Is that you?" Larry said. John glanced at Henry who, he realised, was fidgeting nervously. And for good reason – it hadn't been that long ago since Henry saw Larry but to Larry, it would have been over thirty years.
"Yes, Larry," Henry said quietly. "I survived."
"Good, good." Larry sank back into his chair in relief. "Don't be rude, Julie – go and make some tea, won't you?"
"Of course, Larry," Julie nodded and disappeared to the kitchen. John took this as an invitation to nudge Henry and make him sit down in the other chair. He remained standing next to Henry, while Sam and Dean flopped down on the floor.
"Who are the others, Henry?" Larry said. Henry wet his lips.
"I – I cast the time-travelling spell," he said. "I landed in this year. This is my grown-up son, John, and my grandsons, Sam and Dean."
"Hi," Sam said. Dean just waved, until John subtly nudged him, at which point he grudgingly said hello as well.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, John." Larry held out his hand and John shook it. "I'm Larry Ganem, one of the former elders of the Men of Letters. I'm glad that you lived to carry on the legacy – I thought them all extinct after that horrible night."
"Uh – they sort of are," John said. "I'm a hunter."
Larry blinked in surprise but didn't say anything. Julie returned at that moment with three cups of tea and a small plate of cookies, which she put down in front of Sam and Dean with a warm smile.
"Thanks, Miss!" Sam said, immediately grabbing a cookie. Dean nodded, his mouth already full.
"I already told John everything I know about that night," Henry said. "I was hoping that you might be able to fill in some gaps for us."
"It doesn't matter," Larry said. "Abaddon came and massacred us. I was extremely lucky to only lose my sight."
"It's okay, dear," Julie said soothingly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Larry leaned over and kissed her other hand.
"But luckily, she did not get what she came for," Larry said firmly. "You succeeded in your mission, Henry. You kept the box out of her hands."
"So what's in it?" John said. "Abaddon's here on a mission. We need to know everything about it."
Larry nodded and seemed to steel himself. John was glad that he wasn't going to be difficult about it and insist that it was 'Men of Letters only' knowledge or something like most snobbish clubs did.
"In the box is the key to every object, scroll, spell, everything ever collected for thousands of years under one roof," he said quietly. John nearly fell over in surprise and even Henry looked shocked. "It is the supernatural mother lode."
"So Abaddon wants to obtain all of this knowledge and to do that, she needs the key," Henry concluded.
"Can you imagine what she would do with that?" Larry chuckled.
"So how do we stop her?" John said hopefully. These Men of Letters had to have some way of stopping this bitch! His heart sank at Larry's next words.
"You don't."
"What's that supposed to mean?" John demanded as Larry pulled out a notepad and pen. Larry ignored him in favour of scribbling something down.
"If you know where they key is, take it to these coordinates." He handed the notepad to Henry. "Throw it in. Shut the door forever. And walk away."
"Why would we do that?" Henry said, aghast. "All of that knowledge would be lost!"
"If that is the price we have to pay for keeping it away from Abaddon, then so be it," Larry said solemnly. "It is the safest place on earth, warded against any evil ever created. It is impervious to any entry except for the key."
A place like that was beginning to sound very appealing to John. If he was really going to start putting Sam and Dean before hunting – and damn Henry for drilling that into his head! – then a place like that would be invaluable for keeping them safe! And his hunts would go so much easier with all of that information to help him!
"You do have the key, don't you?" Larry said hesitantly.
"We do but it's not on us," John said. "We hid it in case Abaddon came snooping and we ran into her."
"A wise decision," Larry said. He fumbled for Henry's hands and took one between both of his. "Promise me, Henry, that you will do whatever it takes to keep the key out of Abaddon's hands, even if it comes at the cost of that knowledge."
"I – I will," Henry said shakily.
"And promise me that you will keep the Men of Letters alive," Larry added. "You are the last Man of Letter remaining. It falls to you to keep them breathing."
"I'll try, Larry," Henry promised, standing up.
"Thanks for your time," John said.
-ATGB-
Abaddon watched as those accursed Winchesters left the house. It had taken her a damn long time to track them down! She'd had to kill three people just to do so! Abaddon wasn't against killing – hell, she relished in it – but there was really no point to it if you couldn't draw it out and enjoy it and that was time that she didn't have.
She'd originally planned on lying in wait for them at Larry's house inside his wife and ambushing them for the key then but then that infernal son of Henry's had revealed that he'd hidden the key. Damn it all! It was probably warded against demons, so possessing him to find out where was out of the question since it would just alert everyone that something was up when she couldn't get inside. She also didn't trust him to give her the real key if she played her hand then and there and made him get it in exchange for Henry and the brats.
But…she could follow them. She could wait until they had retrieved the key and then make her move. She knew that this John guy would do anything for those brats of his, so she just had to wait until they were alone and nab them. Hell, even if John and Henry were smart enough not to leave them alone, she could still snatch them from right under their noses – none of them were protected against possession!
She supposed that Henry would do as a hostage if John had the key and vice versa but nothing screamed 'oh crap, better do as the big bad demon says!' better than threatening the lives of kids. And besides, Henry had been gone from John's life for over thirty years. Abaddon didn't know just how much tension was between them and she didn't want to risk one of them refusing to give her the key to save the other. So the kids it was, then. She just had to wait for the right time. But hey, she was thousands of years old. She could wait. In the meantime –
"Oh, Larry! Time to play with your old friend!"