Author's Notes:
Just a few historical notes:
Pendragon- I worked off historical fact. In this story it's a title and not a last name. I'm aware the Arthurian legends claim Pendragon as Arthur's last name. The first certified historical documentation of the Pendragon title was recorded by Roman historians.
I make no excuse.
The pink panties line from the last episode was just too good not to write-in.
Dean Winchester dreamed.
He stood in the middle of a vast apple orchard. The full moon hung in the sky overhead. A slight sent of apple blossoms danced on the breeze. In the distance he heard the sound of the sea sing as it crashed on the island shore. Through the grove of trees he could see a barge bob up and down on a mirrored lake surface. On the barge, standing guard was a cloaked figure in red.
An armed man stood before him.
He was a tall man. A helmet hid his face. A water blue cloak fell from heel to toe. At his throat was a silver broach with three interlocking circles. The broach glowed softly reflecting the fire lit next to him. Attached at one hip was a simple sword, a practical killing weapon, on the other a hunter's dagger. Worn on his finger was a large silver ring with an intricate dragon design.
"Greetings Pendragon," in this dream world Dean greeted the man before him formally. He used the Brotherhood's ancient title. Something in his bones told Dean this man was not a merely a Guardian but a Pendragon an ancient War Lord of the Brotherhood. There hadn't been a Pendragon in over five hundred years.
Dean wondered briefly if he should bow or something.
Bobby's lessons in the old ways didn't quite cover situations like this.
"We do not bow to each other, Dean Winchester," The amused response came from under that war helm. "It is not our way. We are the people of the silver band. In remembrance of the Round Table, we stand shoulder to shoulder in the three interlocking circles always as equals."
"Duty, Knowledge and Sacrifice," Dean finished softly.
The Pendragon nodded and Dean saw under the helmet. There were no eyes. Nothing but a vast star filled sky. "I greet thee Dean Winchester in the name of Avalon."
Dean licked his lips.
Exactly how did he get here?
The last thing he remembered was Nate and his hospital room.
Jim!
"Jim Murphy still lives. You dream and dance between worlds right now Munnin Rider." The figure before him answered. The voice was deep, abrupt and used to command. He stepped forward and held out an ankh shaped staff. The fire next to him flared. "Take it. You must return the Staff of Isis to the waters of which it was forged. That is the only place where its power will be safe. Where we failed, you must succeed."
"Where?" Dean asked as he held out his hands for the staff.
"The first source of the Nile River," the Pendragon replied. "Return the staff to She-Who-Rises-From-The-Waters."
"How will I find this place?" Dean softly asked.
"Follow the Nile and like Avalon it will find you," the Pendragon responded secretively.
Their hands met and Dean suddenly felt chilled to the bone. Push met pull. Life merged with the tide of death and the world spun. As the staff left the Pendragon's grip it fell through Dean's hands to the ground. The fire died and Dean was suddenly groping around the ground in the dark. In the dim moonlight Dean's hands found nothing.
"Find the staff," the Pendragon softly commanded. "No one else can. Release our brother and allow him to finally rest."
"Where?" Dean called as he continued to search the darkness. "I don't know where to look."
He was suddenly spiraling amongst the stars of the constellation Orion.
He burned as he spiraled back to Earth.
His eyes snapped open.
Dean looked in to Caleb's very concerned gold eyes.
"Damien?"
He woke up.
Surprise!
That was always a great start to any morning.
Caleb flinched at the glare of lights high overhead as he got up off of the cold, stone floor. He quickly scanned for threats. His surroundings reminded Caleb of all the Greek stories of the underworld. They were in some sort of underground catacomb. All around them were sealed tombs carved into the wall in tall vertical lines. On the tombs were a strange script chiseled on the outside of each individual vault. The most noticeable features were the two interlocking circles with the silver ring embedded in the middle to create the third one. The three circles created a pattern Caleb knew very well.
Mujib's people by legend traced their roots back to the three Saracen Knights of the Round Table Palamedes, Safir, and Segwarides. Due to that, they didn't bury their dead the same way the descendents of the European Brotherhood did. The European branch of the Brotherhood salted and burned their fallen. It was their way. It not only made sure the empty body could never rise again but to return the Hunter to the primal elements, the spiral of creation, that had forged them.
The Brotherhood of the Middle East didn't do that.
Not only was burning a body against religious practices of many of the Hunters in this region. Also coming from the dry desert climates, the amounts of wood needed to burn a body were very rare. Instead their brothers buried their dead and bound their bodies to the graves with very strong magic. These were the people of the Earth: Diverse, stubborn, and enduring.
Caleb fingered the softly glowing silver ring on the tomb in front of him respectfully.
Interesting.
Why the hell did Nate dump him here?
By the size of the place, it looked like generations of the Brotherhood had been buried and bound here.
To Caleb what Nate had done was an appalling desecration.
These Hunters had earned their peace with blood, bone, and steel.
It was the sight of the too still figure out of the corner of his eye that made his guts clench up with icy horror.
He shut down.
Training took over.
Assess. Adapt. Survive.
Emotional breakdowns always came later.
"Deuce!"
Caleb carefully scrambled over. He looked for traps. Dean looked like one of the dead. Now dressed in the clothes he wore to the hospital, his friend was laid out on a carved stone ledge in a near funeral pose. Caleb hesitantly reached out to touch him. He fully expected to feel the cold, stiff feel of death. Instead when his hand made timid contact with Dean he felt the warm give of life.
Oh, thank God.
"Deuce," he once again called gently.
Emerald green eyes snapped open. "Damien?"
Caleb nodded and helped ease his friend up to a sitting position. Dean shivered and this time he noted the unusual warmth radiating from his friend's body. Deuce's eyes were glossy. He was deathly pale and his freckles stood out so sharply it looked like someone had painted them on.
That meant fever.
Okay.
That he could deal with.
Dean did a quick threat assessment. Then he closed his eyes and pinched his nose. "I'm a little confused. Where are we?"
"No clue" Caleb supplied.
Dean's green eyes did another scan of the area. "Jim? Mujib?"
Caleb shook his head. "I don't think they're here. Right before Nate whammied me he mentioned something about leaving Jim and Mujib for 'Janfar'."
"So we've got to assume that Jim is in enemy hands and no rescue is coming," Dean finished for him softly. "We're on our own."
"Fraid so." Caleb carefully helped Dean struggle his feet and caught him as the younger man swayed.
Caleb threw Dean's arm over his shoulder.
He wanted his friend off that stone, death slab.
With Dean's test results still unknown back at the hospital.
Call him superstitious.
Dean's knees buckled and he almost took them both down. A few more feet and Caleb could ease him down gently in what looked like a safe dry corner. "God, I feel like shit. I hate blood transfusions"
"I know, Kiddo," Caleb muttered as he helped Dean down. He took off his over shirt and threw it over Dean. "We seem to be pretty deep underground. I'm going to take a look around and see if I can find a way out of here."
Deuce rubbed the spot between his eyes. The gesture shouted headache. Then he gave Caleb a thoughtful look. "Nate isn't taking any chances you can draw on any of the Knight Hoo Doo by burying you underground."
Caleb lifted an eyebrow. "Hoo Doo? Okay. My brain got fried so I know I'm a little slow. Please explain. The Knight's element is fire."
Dean nodded. He suddenly looked like the kid Caleb so fondly remembered who proudly built his own sawed-off in shop class. "By legend the Knight draws his power from the 'fire of life'. It's the sun. I figured it out sitting at Dad's bedside one day. I noticed the sunnier it got in his hospital room the better his vitals got. Somehow the Sun gives the Knight a boost." Dean shrugged. "I tried a little experiment when Jim was so sick. The moon does seem to have the very same effect with him."
It made a certain amount of sense. It was all about balance. Ying and Yang. Fire and Water. Warmth and Cold. Harm and Healing. The sun and the moon both lit up the darkness in their way. The Guardian's element was water and the moon's power pulled on every body of water on the planet.
Caleb thought about it and filed it away.
He may need the information later.
"My theory kind of blows apart with the Scholar," Dean sighed. "It doesn't work with Mac and rocks." He closed his eyes, and leaned his head up against the stone wall of their prison. He looked miserable. "Damien, if you get an opening. Take it."
Caleb shot his best friend a look. It was his best you've-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-me expression. "I know what you're thinking, Deuce. Stake that bitch down right there and burn her."
"I mean it." Dean's earnest green eyes met his. "As sick as I am, I'll only slow you down. If Nate gives you an opening to escape take it. Don't worry about me."
"I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy" Caleb intoned matter-of-fact as he put his hands on his hips. Winchesters weren't the only ones that could be stubborn.
Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. "God, you are such a stubborn asshole. What I'm proposing is our most rational course of action."
"I'm an artist," Caleb countered. "I never claimed to be logical."
Dean cross his arms over his chest and glared back. "You're only an artist when you want to be pigheaded and piss me off."
"I learned from the best," Caleb replied smoothly. "Or do you remember the time you greeted the girl Sam brought home in drag? What was her name? Amy? Sammy looked like he was going to blow a gasket he was so purple. Especially after the kid sat us all down the night before and gave us the 'try to act normal' lecture."
Dean smirked. "Amy complimented me on my taste in shoes. I WAS going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show that night. Besides with that sermon Sammy double-dogged dared me. He really should have known better than to challenge me. I have no shame."
"Yes," Caleb sighed dramatically. "Who knew Bobby could do the Time Warp? I still can't look at a pair of pink panties without thinking of your outfit and throwing up in my mouth a little."
"My work for future generations is done."
"Alright Dr. Frank-N-Furter," Caleb grumbled. It was a testament to how shitty Deuce was feeling when Caleb laid his hand on the side of his friend's face to take his temperature again and Dean didn't give him hell for it. Yeah, Deuce was definitely running a low grade fever. "I'm going to take a look around. Stay put."
"Here take this with you, Theseus." Dean reached in to his jacket pocket, pulled out a ball of string and tossed it to him. "So you don't get lost. And don't fucking touch anything."
"Afraid I'm going to get lost and pick a fight with a Minotaur, Deana?" Caleb shook his head amused as he threw the string ball from one hand to the other.
"I know you. You could pick a fight with Gandhi," Dean grumbled back tiredly. "And the last time we were in a set of old ruins, your curiosity got the best of you, and you pulled a lever. Remember? I fell in to a pit trap and almost ended getting eaten by a Feathered Serpent."
"Details, details," Caleb replied. He patted his friend on the shoulder. "I promise. I'll be careful, Mother."
"I meant what I said about not touching anything, Damien," Dean called back.
Half an hour later Caleb was cursing Nate and intelligent bad guys in general.
Without a rope or a latter to climb out of there they were pretty much screwed. The walls were too steep to find a hand hold. The large slab of rock over what looked like the entrance would be impossible to move too.
Damn it.
The only positive factor was there was fresh air drifting in from somewhere. They weren't going to suffocate.
Caleb made his way back to Dean. He bit his tongue and counted to ten when he saw one of the overhead lights down and dismantled in pieces at Dean's feet. Dean's eyes were close and his head was on his knees.
What part of scrapes and bruises right now could be fatal didn't Deuce understand?
God damned stubborn idiot.
Caleb tapped his friend on the shoulder. "Hey." The fact Dean didn't lift his head or see him coming concerned him.
The younger hunter jumped and his head snapped up. "I checked. No wire for rope. You find anything?"
"We're fucked."
Dean grinned wryly. "That good, huh?"
Caleb plunked down next to Dean. "I found a path that heads down deeper. I think we ought to follow it."
Dean lifted a questioning eyebrow.
"The Brotherhood is pretty consistent about placing their burial sites or scattering ashes by sources of water," Caleb informed him. "Going down deeper might get us an underground spring and drinking water." And Dean with his fever needed fluids and soon. "You up for it?"
"Drinking water has to be our first priority," Dean sighed and rubbed his head again. He held out his hand and Caleb helped him up.
Caleb grunted as he took his friend's weight and they slowly made their way down the steep path. "I was thinking after this little adventure and getting you all fixed up- Everest."
Dean stiffened, stopped and glowered at him. "Birds don't even fly over that chunk of rock because it's too tall. Only humans are stupid enough not to leave it the fuck alone."
"Think of the majestic views," Caleb huffed as he caught Dean as he steadied both of them on the decent down the steep path.
"Think of the altitude sickness and avalanches," Dean fired back.
"Ah Deuce, think of it as an adventure and an opportunity to Zen out and become one with the mountain."
"You becoming 'one with the mountain' is exactly what I'm concerned about, Dick Head. It's typically followed by a large splat and someone scraping up what's left of you with a spatula."
"India and Taj it is then," Caleb replied happily as he took a little more of Dean's weight on his shoulders.
"I'm not getting on another fucking plane unless it's flying home," Dean insisted. "And I have had enough of tombs."
"Did you know India is the birth place of the Kama Sutra?" Caleb informed him.
"Okay," Dean mumbled. "This argument might convince me to climb on a plane. Give me the intestinal fortitude I need to push through a huge hoard of obnoxious tourists, listen to you ramble on with no interest about the sappy love story that built The Taj, and glaze upon with no wonder at a marble crypt." Then Dean pointed at a fork in the path. "Go right, then left. There's a steam."
Caleb didn't question how Deuce knew that and positioned them down the various paths the younger hunter indicated. Deuce had always had a sixth sense about where to find water. That gift had saved their lives more than once.
They continued to go deeper underground for quite a distance before they entered the chamber.
"Oh wow," Dean muttered as he looked around. "I wish I had a camera. Sammy would love this place."
It was like they stepped in to the heart of the earth.
They were surrounded by huge crystals and fluorescent minerals deposits, which glowed in the dark. They cast a soft glow throughout the chamber. At the center was a medium sized spring whose waters collected at a huge silver lined basin on the floor. With the minerals glowing over their heads the basin reflecting the light reminded Caleb of the moon in a star lit sky.
This was hallowed ground.
Caleb could tell by the various offerings and the scent of incense. The offerings had been left here in remembrance and honor for the dead. Placed neatly all around them were small, grief-tied tokens. Brought to this place and left with reverence, love, and respect.
Nate stood by the water basin waiting for them.
Wonderful.
Deuce better have an insane, MacGyvered ace up his sleeve because they were in serious trouble.