Chapter 3: Kevin Finds His Calling

When Kevin was finally situated in the bunker he found himself at a loss. His girlfriend was dead, his mother was dead and the only thing he could really consider a family were two hunters/consultants, an ex-vessel, a Fallen angel, and four little depowered archangels. He briefly considered college like Adam; he had been on the verge of finishing applications before he was struck by lightning and made into a prophet of God.

But college seemed too mundane. He had decrypted both a demon and angel tablet, he had made bombs that killed demons and Leviathans alike, and he had gone toe to toe with the King of Hell himself. Nothing he would learn in college would help him with life as he knew it.

He thought about becoming a hunter like Dean and Sam but he lacked the years of training and experience they had. He would be more of a liability than an asset.

Then Dean and Sam had shown him the log for all the artifacts and various relics that the Men of Letters had stored in the bunkers over time and he let out a whimper of distress. As an AP student, he had planned his life down to the minute. Cello lessons, stats study time, college essays were all planned with meticulous detail. He could not and would not let this stand, and thus began his tenure as the official archivist of the Men of Letters.

At first, it seemed overwhelming. Thousands of years' worth of spells, scrolls, and countless items all sitting in the archives sorted with a card system that was older than dirt. Kevin was determined to drag the entire bunker to the 21st century kicking and screaming if he had to. If anyone was suited for the job, it was Kevin.

So he spent his days creating an online catalogue of all the books and sorting through all of the ancient weapons and materials. Progress was slow. The logs were decades old and some of the writing was written in an archaic language which took some time to decipher. Some of the relics lying around also had ominous warning labels on them so Kevin left them alone until he could find a way to move them without killing himself. He had a contact in South Dakota who had a method of moving around dangerous artifacts without any harm. And his work paid off; whenever Sam and Dean needed to go reference something for a hunt and found it with his online system, a spark of happiness lit up inside him.

So he buried himself in it and it was satisfying work. He never lacked company. The kids were always there to demand play time when they got bored of pranking Castiel and Castiel would help when he was not busy mooning over Dean or playing consultant with the hunter network. The ex-angel was a fountain of interesting stories and information on many of the items stored in the bunker so they swapped facts. Pop culture for information on the more obscure artifacts.

"Time to eat, kid," Dean announced and placed a plate in front of him. "I even made you that vegan burger stuff that you and Sammy like. Soy cheese and heirloom tomatoes from the farmer's market."

Kevin's eyebrows rose.

"Wow, you're actually feeding me," remarked Kevin as he reached for the burger. It smelled positively delicious and he gave it a tentative bite. Juicy soy alternative meat burst on his tongue tempered with cool crisp lettuce and sour sweet tomatoes. The cheese melted on his tongue like butter. He hummed in appreciation and didn't notice Dean's satisfied smile.

"What do you mean 'actually'?" Dean scowled. "We fed you plenty when you were deciphering the demon tablet."

"No, you set me up with shitty frozen burritos and two bottles of pills," Kevin reiterated sardonically as he munched on his burger. Dean was getting better at cooking vegan foods, he mused thoughtfully.

He tapped in a few more entries and finished off his burger. Kevin was so engrossed in his work that he didn't realize Dean was still in the room with him until a hand reached out and took the plate.

"I'm sorry, kid," Dean said.

"No problem," replied Kevin, distractedly. "I imagine college would've been the same; crappy food coupled with huge amounts of studying until my brain burst. Just you know, minus supernatural stuff."

Dean huffed out a laugh but it sounded harsh, forced. At the sound, Kevin looked up. The man pinched the bridge of his nose and his figure was hunched over a chair as if burdened by much agony. That face, which had seemed to battle hardened when they had met, was now lined with fatigue and weathered by trial. When he stared at Kevin, his eyes were pained.

"That's not what I meant," Dean tried again but then stopped, staring off into space as if trying to gather his words.

"That what were you apologizing for?" Kevin whispered, his stomach clenching uncomfortably. He was beginning to dislike where this conversation was going. He wondered briefly if he should get Castiel; the ex-angel was much better at dealing with Dean in his man pain mode.

"For everything I guess," Dean muttered. "For dragging you into this mess, for getting your girlfriend and your mom killed, for making you work so hard for so little in return."

And here Kevin laughed. It was a short bark of laughter filled with disbelief that made Dean flinch.

"Dude, and now I realize why you and Castiel are so perfect for each other," Kevin grinned as if realizing a funny joke after hearing it a dozen times. "Sam was so right about you guys."

"What?"

"Never mind," Kevin said quickly. He leaned forward, lacing his hands together. "Dean, you don't have to be sorry for all that. It wasn't your fault I was chosen to be a prophet. Yeah, losing my mom and my girlfriend sucked. Big time. But that wasn't your fault. That was all Crowley."

"But we dragged you into this hell house with us, made you a part of this," Dean rubbed his face guiltily. "You were a scrawny little Asian kid for God's sake and we got your family killed. And what do you have to show for it? A bunch of psycho hunters and their ex-vessel of a kid brother a-and a Fallen angel." Dean let out a shuddering breath. "Absolute shit deal if you ask me."

"Dean, I chose this!" Kevin shouted, cutting Dean off from saying anymore. He heaved in a breath, trying to steady himself. "Dean, what are you really mad about?"

"Who the hell would choose this kinda life?" he countered bitterly. "I don't know why you aren't running for the hills yet."

"So you're confused why I'm still here," Kevin translated slowly. They stared at each other for a moment, never breaking their gaze from each other.

And then Kevin did something only Castiel and Sam were allowed to do; he smacked Dean in the back of his head.

"Ow!" Dean yelped, glaring at him. "What the fuck was that for?"

"You're an idiot," Kevin deadpanned. "You really are a meathead, aren't you?"

"Hey!"

"No, seriously," Kevin said, staring at him right in the eyes. "I chose this life. I chose this family not because I don't have anything else but because I love you guys. I like the bunker and all this archiving. I like fighting with Sam over the laundry and tackling Adam for the remote. I like eating the stuff you make and watching the kids play pranks on Castiel but most of all, I like you and Sam and Cas and Adam and the kids."

And during his diatribe, Dean sat there with eyes wide with surprise. The hunter took a deep breath, squaring his expression and then stared levelly at him.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Kevin asked, eyebrow cocked.

"Okay," Dean repeated firmly. "Remember to come down for dinner."

"Thanks for the food," said Kevin.

"Don't tell Sam about this," Dean mumbled. "No chick flick moments."

"Not a word," Kevin promised with a wry smile. He turned back to his computers as Dean eyed him critically.

"You're gonna tell him, aren't you?"

"Hell yeah."

Dean rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "Conspirers all of you. I did not raise my brothers to turn against me."

Kevin wheeled back around with surprise as Dean picked up the plate and headed out with a pat on Kevin's shoulder.

"D-Did you just-?" Kevin stammered but Dean was already out the door and into the hallway.

"Keep up the good work," Dean called with a wave.

"Will do!" he shouted back.

Brother. Dean had called him his brother. A slow warm feeling crawled up his toes, settling in his chest. This, Kevin supposed with a smile, was contentment.

A/N: This drabble came from the time Dean found a card for the "Spear of Destiny" and just put it back. I imagine after the war, Kevin would be official archivist. And kudos for those who can answer who Kevin called for help with dangerous artifacts.

So continue or not?