When Dean and Castiel returned to the house, Ben and Sam were sitting on the couch with their journals open. Both looked up to see Dean's bloodied clothes and had nearly identical looks of horror.

"I'm fine," Dean said softly. There was no more fight in him at that moment.

Ben nodded, and said, "Sam's been telling me about my missing memories. About the stuff you guys do."

Dean didn't even have it in him to be mad at his brother for taking that step. The kid had questions. He had evidence to back everything up. No point in lying any more. Dean nodded, and sat down in the chair.

He sighed, rubbing his temples, as he said, "Look, you and your mom were really great to me. But what we do...It's dangerous. And…"

"You erased our memories to protect us," Ben interrupted. He didn't sound angry, which Dean took as a good sign. "Sam told me about the crazy things that were happening. That we agreed to do this."

Dean's eyes shot to Sam, who gave a flicker of a shrug.

Ben looked at Dean, green eyes that were mirrors of the hunter's. So many times, Dean lay awake at night wondering if the demon that possessed Lisa was telling the truth, that Ben was really his son. She'd denied it several times, but it wouldn't be the first time someone lied to him. Either way, Dean couldn't be a father. Not before, and especially not after the Mark.

"You can't tell your mom that we were here," Dean said after the silence went on too long.

Ben nodded. "I kind of figured that. But…" He bit his lip, looking down at the journal in his hands. "Can I, I dunno, hang with you guys every now and then? Go hunting? I mean, I've helped people before. I want to help people…"

"No," Dean said with finality. "This life isn't a weekend hobby. Every day of my life has been spent knowing that what goes bump in the night is real and deadly. You're a good kid. You don't need to have that weight on your shoulders."

Ben slouched back against the couch. "That's such bullshit."

"Watch your language," Dean snapped.

"Fuck you, dude," Ben snapped back. "You have no right to tell me how to do anything. You're a blank spot in my head. And I bet that once you leave, I'll forget all about this, won't I? These pictures and books, they'll mean nothing to me because you'll mean nothing to me. You'll just be something erased from my head. Something I won't even know is missing."

"It's for your own damn good," Dean growled. "You don't want to remember the things that happened."

Ben snatched a picture off the table and tossed it at Dean. It was a picture of Dean, Ben, and Lisa, smiling and happy. "Maybe it would be nice to remember the good things, Dean."

Sam sighed, and said, "You're right, kid. You're absolutely right. It's not fair."

The kid stomped off to the kitchen and returned with the box, and without ceremony shoved everything back inside, then tossed it to Dean. "Take this bullshit and get out of here. I wish I'd never called you. I wish I never met you."

Dean's jaw tensed, but he couldn't deny that the kid was right to feel that way. It just hit a little too close to home. He'd regretted coming to Lisa after Sam took his swan dive into the pit. He hated himself for ever thinking that he could have a life with them. And now, looking at Ben, who was so grown up and still so fragile, it was like putting salt in a wound that still festered.

"All I can say is, I'm sorry," Dean gritted out. "I wish things could be different."

"Just go," Ben replied, the fire in his voice replaced with sadness. "Get out."

Castiel touched both Sam and Dean on the forehead, and in a shaking instant, they were back at the bunker. The angel stood for a moment, swaying on his feet, then fell into Sam. Sam quickly scooped him up and carried him to the couch in the library.

"Battery's probably pretty low," Dean said as he sat the box of Ben's memories on the table.

Sam looked at the box, then looked at his brother. He wanted to shout at him for everything that Dean had ever done wrong in his life, but he didn't bother. There was no point. He'd argued the subject of Lisa and Ben too many times to ever think it would make a shred of difference. Tomorrow morning, the kid would wake with a headache and no memory of Dean Winchester. Which made Sam both sad and envious at the same time.

He loved his brother. Loved him very much. But sometimes, Sam just wanted to punch him in the face.

Instead of prodding the Braeden bruises, Sam asked, "Where's Wade? What happened when he zapped you away?"

Dean walked to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a glass. "I really don't know. He…" Dean paused to pour, and sighed. "I think he's had his mind erased before. He realized what happened to Ben, and he flipped out. On me. Kept saying something about the Workshop."

"Your clothes are covered in blood," Sam said, ever a pro at stating the obvious.

"Yeah," Dean said with a smirk. "Cas saved my ass from smoking out. This meat was pretty much dead by the time Deadpool was done with me. Angel showed up, threw down a smiting on Wade, then healed me. No wonder he's captain comatose."

Sam frowned. "Sometimes you sound too much like a demon."

"Gee whiz, I wonder why?" Dean snapped. "Could it be because I am a fuckin' demon?"

Without another word, Dean left the library. He stomped up the metal stairs towards the living quarters and was about to slam the door on his room when he heard a noise from down the hall. Wade's door was open and there was a light on inside.

Hesitantly, he went to the door and whispered, "Wade?"

There was a sound of a bed squeaking, then the merc opened the door. His mask was off, and his eyes were tired and red rimmed. For a moment, the two just stared at each other. Dean wanted to ask so many questions, wanted to demand answers for what happened back in Michigan. He wanted so many things, but all of it caught in his throat when he saw that the merc's clothes were absent from the wardrobe and the walls were bare of weaponry.

"Don't leave," Dean said softly.

"Why would you want me to stay?" Wade asked, averting his eyes. His voice was weak and he was shaking. The smiting had taken a lot out of him, no doubt.

Dean put a hand on Wade's shoulder, ducking to catch the merc's gaze. "I want you here, Wade. I need you here. Whatever happened today… I get it."

"I almost killed you," Wade said.

"Not like I haven't flat-lined you a few times," Dean said with a hesitant smile.

"We're...I'm…" Wade grabbed his head, and an anguished sound issued from his lips. "All I can see is that pit. The bodies. The stink. And I want it gone. I want the nightmares to be over." He choked out a sob, adding as tears fell down his ruined face, "I want it all to be over."

Automatically, Dean let his arms wrap around the merc, pulling him close. Wade was a big guy, just as tall as Dean but with more muscle. But in that moment, he seemed so small and frightened as he cried into Dean's shoulder. They stood there in the doorway, silent except for the occasional whimper and sniffle, waiting for the storm of terror to pass.

Eventually, it did. The tears went away, the shaking stopped, and then it was just Wade and Dean standing with their arms around each other, neither willing to be the first one to let go.

It was Wade who finally stepped back. He rubbed the back of his head, and mustered up a ghost of his usual Merc Smirk, and said, "All this cuddling's made me hungry. How about we grab some take out?"

Dean nodded. "Sounds good."

Sam was still in the library when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He peeked out just in time to see Dean and Wade walking side by side towards the garage. As soon as the door clicked shut, he went to the storage room and started digging through the catalogue, looking for anything about The Workshop. There was some vague mention of it somewhere, and it seemed to be just a footnote.

Within 15 minutes, Sam was on the floor with a stack of notes in his lap on something called the Weapon X. It was of little interest to the Men of Letters. Originally, they believed the government was using magic to try and create Super Soldiers. But the program was shut down after the scientist in charge-a man named Erskine-was killed in an attack on their laboratory. There was little else mentioned about the test subject, Steve Rogers, other than the experiment enhanced his physical abilities.

After that, the Super Soldier protocol was either abandoned or no longer of interest to the Men of Letters.

So Sam went to his stand by, and googled Weapon X.

To his absolute shock and amazement, there were Zero results for the search. So, he tried a search for Steve Rogers. Then Super Soldier Protocol. The only things that popped up were a few conspiracy websites with links to big foot sightings.

Frustrated, Sam slammed his laptop shut a little too hard, and silently wished that Charlie was here. Charlie could hack into government websites without being found out. Charlie was a pro at everything espionage. But Charlie was still in OZ.