Dean found Sam sleeping on the backseat of the Impala. He knocked on the window with his knuckles and hid a smile at way his brother woke with a start. He was still pissed at Sam after all.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty," he said. "Come see what I've found." Sam clambered awkwardly out of the car to look at the burlap sack in Dean's hand.
"What is it?" He asked, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell. Dean opened it and upended it over the hood of the car. There was a man's gold wedding band, a Zippo lighter engraved with the initials JLC, a keyring in the shape of the Eiffel Tower and a tiny framed photo of a woman and a small boy. Sam stared at the items, trying to figure out what he was looking at.
"Wedding ring is Jared Pickle's," Dean said. Sam looked up at him.
"How do you know that?"
"It's engraved inside, look. J & J 4 EVA." Sam squinted at the cursive writing engraved into the inside of the band.
"Makes sense, I guess. Who's JLC?
"Johnny Cooke, middle name Leland." Dean told him
"Leland? Jesus." Sam said with pity. "What about these other things?"
"No idea, but at a guess the woman and the kid are Miles' ex and his son. So the keyring must be Nick Murphy's."
"But Nick didn't go missing, remember. Which makes it John's," Sam pointed out. Dean's mouth twisted in thought.
"Hmm. Maybe. It depends whether Warren took these things from the men the night they vanished or beforehand," he mused.
"You know, that reminds me. We figure we might have some kind of motive for Warren Murphy to get rid of his son, sick motive, but yeah, a motive. But the others? I don't get it." Sam said, raking one hand through his hair. Dean nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. It's been bothering me too. Maybe it wasn't planned that way, but he had to improvise." Sam turned the keyring over in his hand. There was a tiny chip at the base. He sighed.
"We need to go talk to Warren Murphy. And figure out how to get these guys back." Dean eyed him for a moment.
"OK. I'll go talk to Murphy. You hit the books." Sam gave him a narrow look. "I won't tip him off, don't worry."
Sam spent the next hour reading everything he could find online about the Wild were an awful lot of myths from a lot of different European countries and although there were many common features, there was also a lot of conflicting information. Pain began to throb behind his eyes. He leaned back and blew out a breath. He hadn't had a moment to himself since the Gabriel revelation had landed and now he had some space to sort out the thoughts in his head, he wasn't sure he wanted to.
Seeing Gabriel had been a shock to his system. And Dean, dammit, Dean had known something, as evidenced by his total lack of surprise at the archangel's appearance. Fucking Hell, if he hadn't lost his temper he might have gotten more of the story out of Gabriel and Lugh. Sam gave a groan and rested his head on the table for a moment. Did Gabriel know about Lugh? Lugh clearly had known about his relationship with Gabriel. Sam's stomach turned over slowly. Lugh had caught him at a vulnerable moment, depressed by Lucifer's viciousness and his own gullibility.
His headache worsened as his memories pressed against his skull. Grieving over Gabriel's death, staring into a future that held only pain and death and blood, Dean was damn right he'd been happy to throw himself into the Pit. To make something he'd done in his worthless life mean something. Cas and Crowley had fucked that up, prying him out of the Cage without his soul and Sam wondered, not for the first time, if he'd ever really recovered from the damage that had wrought.
But Gabriel's return and subsequent indifference to Sam hurt worse than any of that. Even if he'd never expected the archangel to return his feelings, the callous way he had rejected them burned. And all the while the mocking sense of Lugh's amusement and the sharp sting of Dean's horror and disapproval. Sam swallowed, and his eyes rested on the half bottle of bourbon by Dean's bed. He turned away with a snarl. Drinking to forget was not going to help and there were four guys who were relying on him finding a way to rescue them from a mythical foxhunt.
The motel room door popped open with a click and Dean stomped into the room noisily.
"Any luck?" he asked shortly. Sam shook his head.
"There's plenty of lore about the Hunt, how to call them, the risks. But nothing about how to rescue someone they've taken."
"Well, Warren Murphy's in the wind," Dean told him. "I tried his office, his home, bars he goes to. Everywhere. He's gone."
"It wouldn't be the first time," Sam said. His brother nodded and gave him a wary look. One Sam recognized all too well, even if it had been a while since he'd seen it. "I don't want to talk about this, Dean," he insisted, hoping to head his brother off at the pass.
"Really. Because I've got a few things to say anyway," Dean snapped. Sam closed his eyes. "I can just about cope with the weird, fucked up idea that you did the nasty with Gabriel. I mean, I don't get it, but I can deal. But what the fuck possessed you to invite Lugh into your bed? Seriously, Sam. What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," Sam admitted. "I was drunk and depressed. Lugh took advantage." The look on Dean's face was murderous.
"This was after your little binge when we got back from Hell, wasn't it? When you were whining about how Lucifer didn't like you." Sam nodded slowly. "Son of a bitch! How did he get into the Bunker without setting off the wards?"
"I don't think the Men of Letters knew much about the Tuatha Dé Danaan," Sam said. "There's nothing in any of the files or books about them, other than as myth." Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. Sam took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I fucked up. It was stupid and dangerous and I know better." Dean looked at him for a long moment.
"OK. OK, Sam. What are you going to do?" Sam blinked in confusion.
"What am I going to do? About what?" He asked and was astonished at the color that stained his brother's cheeks.
"About Gabriel," he said. Sam gaped at him.
"What?" He gasped. "What do you mean?" Dean shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Sam's eyes.
"Are you going to try to fix things?" He asked, his voice low and a note of strain Sam didn't understand.
"What's to fix? We never had a relationship. Apparently Gabriel spent exactly zero minutes thinking about me the moment we parted company." Sam said bitterly. The sad look on his brother's face was almost more than he could bear. "Where are you going with this, Dean?"
"I'm just saying," Dean said, even softer now. "Are you just going to give up?" Sam stared at his brother, utterly perplexed. What the Hell had gotten into him?
"Uh. Well, unless Gabriel shows up again, I'm not sure there's much I can do," Sam admitted.
"But you want to," Dean said insistently. "You want to try and straighten things out?" This was getting too weird for Sam.
"Yes," he sighed. "Yes, I do. But I don't hold out any hope. I haven't held out any hope of anything good happening in a long time. I would like to apologize though. I was being unfair. He told me exactly what to expect. I just didn't listen." Dean nodded but he seemed distracted.
"Good. That's good, Sam." Sam stared at him, a growing sense of alarm ringing in his head.
"OK," he said slowly. "But like I say, unless Gabriel chooses to grace me with his presence, I'm not going to get the chance."
"Figure something out," Dean suggested. "You could pray to him." Sam rolled his eyes but gave in.
"Fine. Fine, I'll think about it. But not tonight. I need some space tonight." Dean looked at him for a long time, then gave a nod.
"OK. Now, let's get back to work." Sam turned his attention back to his laptop.
"I've read just about everything there is online. I think I'm gonna need to hit up a library."
"There's only a small one in town," Dean observed.
"Yeah, and I doubt the one in Salem is much better. I need a university library, really. So I guess I'm heading to Portland." Sam looked at his watch. "It's late, the library will be closed by now. I'll head out first thing. What about you?"
"I'm gonna make some calls to a few hunters, see if I can dig up any more info on the Wild Hunt."
"You said Dad mentioned it in his journal," Sam reminded him. "Did you find the entry?" Dean nodded and pulled the journal out of his bag. He flicked through the pages and then handed it to Sam. Sam read his father's familiar scrawl and then looked up at Dean in surprise.
"He investigated a case in Electron?" He asked in surprise.
"Yeah. Not the 1972 case, obviously. No, this was a werewolf hunt as you saw. But he heard about the other case while he was investigating."
"He didn't work this job alone," Sam pointed out. Dean's face went hard and Sam blinked.
"No. He didn't." Sam stared at his brother, puzzled over his reaction.
"You were there then? Dad doesn't mention that although this was around the time you started working jobs regularly with him. He only mentions a Caleb Watkins? I've never met him."
"No, I wasn't there. And you haven't met Caleb. Nor will you." Every line of his brother's body radiated tension. Dean was lying to him, but about what? Not being there or Sam having never met Caleb. He couldn't tell, but calling his brother on it right now didn't seem smart.
"OK," he said finally. "You don't like him. Fine. But he might have information." Dean shook his head.
"No," he said shortly. His tone indicated that this subject was not up for further examination. Sam backed off, he didn't need to piss Dean off any more than necessary.
"So, anyway Dad only mentions the case briefly. He was sure it was the Wild Hunt that had taken the missing men, but the case was cold and there wasn't much he could do. How come you remember it so well?" A muscle worked in Dean's jaw, indicating his agitation.
"Leave it, Sammy," God, Dean was jumpy today.
"OK, OK. Let's go get something to eat and make a beer run," Sam suggested, relieved when Dean relaxed and nodded in agreement.
Sam wrote a quick email to a Nia Britton, hunter he knew in Portland. He might as well drop by, since he was going to be in town anyway. Nia responded almost immediately.
Hey Sam,
Long time no see! How's that PITA of a brother? I'm sorry, I'd love to see you but I'm actually out of town right now on a hunt in Vancouver. If you're looking for lore on the Wild Hunt, you're SOL. Nobody knows much outside of the mythology. I've never met a hunter who's actually faced them.
Caleb Watkins is a name I haven't heard in a long time. He dropped off the grid back in 1999. Can't tell you much about him, other than he was a good friend of your Dad's but Ellen absolutely hated him. Barred him from the Roadhouse, which she almost never did. Never did find out the whole story, it was a long time ago. Sorry I can't tell you any more. Garth knows something but I've never been able to get him to spill the beans. Which is weird, right, because Garth isn't exactly close-lipped. He might tell you though, so you should really ask him although he's also off-grid so I don't know if he's still alive.
Nia
Sam stared at the email for a while. He considered emailing Garth, torn between wanting to know why Dean hated this guy so much and afraid of what he might find out. He swallowed and made a decision, writing an email to Garth and sending it quickly before he could change his mind.
"Hey, Sam," Dean said suddenly, looking up from one of Bobby's journals. "I think I got something."
"Bobby faced the hunt?" Sam asked quickly. Dean shook his head.
"No. He just did the clean-up." Sam grimaced, that did not sound good.
"The Hunt was called in Maine, near Frye Mountain. They took at least six people before Rufus and the Mackenzies were able to stop them. But the Hunt killed them and Rufus was badly injured. Bobby had to go in and clear out their motel rooms before the Feds got their hands on their stuff." Sam's forehead crinkled.
"The Mackenzies?"
"Jenny and Neal Mackenzie. I don't know if you remember them, but we stayed with them back when we were kids. You must have been four or five." Sam shook his head.
"It doesn't ring a bell," he admitted Dean shrugged.
"They were good people. Great hunters. They called in Rufus when they realized what they were up against, which is lucky for us because he called Bobby to collect all their research. There's a spell we can use to free unwilling riders. Only trouble is, we have to call the Hunt again."
"And if it goes wrong, we become the prey, right?" Dean grinned at him. "You realize this means we have to call on Lugh?" Sam pointed out and Dean's grin faltered.
"Dammit. Is there nothing else we can use?" Sam shrugged.
"Maybe, but it will take time. All the lore I've read suggests that the longer you ride with the Hunt, the more part of it you become. So I don't know how much time we have but I'd really hate to delay any more than we have to."
"Do you think Lugh will help anyway?" Dean asked. "He did help Murphy call the damn thing in the first place."
"I don't think he cares. He needed the Hunt, and he used Murphy to get what he wanted. Now, why he wanted to help Gabriel, I don't know." Sam was proud of how his voice didn't waver when saying Gabriel's name.
"OK. Call Astrid, see if she can convince Lugh to come talk to us." Dean sighed. Sam opened his email again and sent Astrid a quick message. He'd barely finished sending it when there was a knock at the door. Dean opened it and stepped back warily as Lugh sauntered into the room.
"Sam," Lugh said in that warm, slightly amused tone that still made Sam shiver. "And Dean. How lovely. You want something, I hear."
"We're trying to rescue the men captured by the Hunt," Sam told him without preamble. "Which means we need to call the Hunt again." Lugh smiled, but it was not pleasant.
"I see. Why should I help you?" he said in a bored tone. Sam took a deep breath.
"I was hoping we could negotiate a reasonable price," Dean's eyes flew to his brother. This was a very dangerous game. Lugh gave Sam a sultry look.
"Mmm. I'm sure I can come up with a suitable payment." Sam swallowed and Dean looked like he wanted to throw up. A flick of his fingers riveted Dean to the spot and then Lugh moved cat-like across the room until he was inches from Sam. He tugged Sam's head forward and licked at the seam of Sam's lips, thrusting his tongue into Sam's mouth with a growl. One hand slipped into Sam's jeans and Sam had to try and remember to breathe as those elegant fingers drove him slowly insane. Lugh moved his mouth to Sam's neck and then without warning, lifted Sam up as easily as if he were a child. Sam was only vaguely aware of his brother's protests and he didn't care, all he cared about now was this crazy, urgent need. Lugh was mesmerizing, winding his body tighter and tighter with lips and tongue and teeth and hands. But it wasn't this tall, slender body he really wanted. He was assaulted by memories of a smaller frame and laughing golden eyes. He shouldn't do this, he should…
"I don't think so," a voice boomed. Lugh was thrust backwards by a wave of power and Sam was dropped unceremoniously onto the floor. His jaw dropped open to see Gabriel standing over him and he exhaled noisily, shock and awe punching a hole in his gut. Gabriel was towering fury and immense power and sheer, inhuman glory. His wings cast a huge shadow on the wall of the motel room, lit by some mysterious white light that came from behind Sam and yet he thought maybe from Gabriel himself.
Dean's paralysis had been broken by the archangel's power and he had to turn his head away from Gabriel's glory. The arrogant Irish deity was cowering now, which he would have enjoyed more if he weren't so scared himself. Gabriel was pissed.
"Give Dean the afanc's tooth," Gabriel told Lugh. Lugh didn't hesitate. He produced the fossil and shoved it into Dean's hands.
"I'll take my leave," he mumbled and fled, the motel door banging behind him.
"Gabriel," Sam breathed. "I… You… Why did you do that?"
"What did you think I would do, Sam?" Gabriel asked, his True Voice threatening to vibrate right through and destroy him, this place, everything. Fucking Hell. "I don't think you quite understood what you've done." Sam stared at him stupidly, his mouth opening and closing silently. He had no idea what was going on here and Gabriel was both terrifying and captivating like this. His heart was beating so hard he thought it might just thump its way clean out of his ribcage.
"I'm sorry," Sam told him. "I don't understand what's going on but I know I owe you an apology."
Gabriel glared at him. "If you don't understand what you're apologizing for, what value does it have?" he sneered and Sam gulped in fear.
"I'm sorry about how I reacted to learning you were alive. In the woods. You wanted my help and I got mad and said no. I was wrong. You were right, I had no right to demand anything from you. You were quite clear about what you were offering in TV Land. I was stupid about it, but that's not your fault."
"You were human about it," Gabriel said, his tone softer and his True Voice receded. "That's not a crime. I knew it was a risk. I should not have done it."
"So why did you?" Sam asked. Gabriel leveled a look at him.
"Have you looked in the mirror?" he grinned. "Who could resist?" Dean was making fake retching sounds from somewhere behind him but Sam ignored him. Gabriel held out a hand and Sam grasped it firmly. He let the archangel tug him to his feet and gave him a shy smile. Gabriel rubbed his hands together gleefully.
"So, you want to take on the Wild Hunt?" he asked, gazing into Sam's eyes. Sam blinked at the sudden change of subject.
"Uh, yeah. Four men were taken by the Hunt, and we'd really like to rescue them," Sam explained.
Gabriel gave him an affectionate smile. "You've not changed, I see. Still trying to save the world, Sammy?" Sam tried to control his wildly beating pulse at the sound of Gabriel's voice, arch and amused.
"Yeah. I guess," he said, reflecting that he really needed to get a grip. Gabriel wasn't mad at him any more, but he really shouldn't read too much into it.
"Cool! Sounds like fun!" Gabriel declared. Dean looked like he'd lost his mind. The archangel's face took on a cunning expression that made Sam feel uneasy. "Where do we start?"
Gabriel's attention span was, to put it mildly, not long. He paced up and down in front of the twisted oak, making exaggerated sighs and constantly poking at the circle Sam and Dean had laid out.
"Patience really isn't one of your virtues, is it?" Sam asked pointedly. Gabriel grinned at him.
"Au contraire," he denied. "I can be very patient, under particular circumstances." He waggled his eyebrows at Sam in what the hunter could only interpret as flirtatious manner. It means nothing, Sam told himself. He's messing with you because he can.
"All right," Dean said. "It's almost midnight. Let's get these candles lit." Sam pulled out his lighter and set the flame to each of the candles and then sneezed.
"Vanilla-scented? Really, Gabriel?" The archangel shrugged.
"It won't make any difference to the ritual," he said innocently. Sam glowered at him but returned his attention to the circle. Dean had placed the afanc's tooth in the center and was drizzling the stillborn baby's blood and virgin's tears onto the fossil. Gabriel had been evasive about where he'd gotten the supplies for this ritual at such short notice and truthfully Sam didn't want to know.
"Do you want to do the summoning?" Dean asked and Sam nodded.
"Yeah, sure." But Gabriel bared his teeth at Dean and Sam stepped back.
"Uh, no it's fine. I'll do it," Dean said. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. Gabriel was making him crazy. Dean began to intone the complex Gaelic chant and Sam tried to ignore the archangel and concentrate on the job at hand.
Dean had finished speaking and for a moment the only sound was the wind rustling the branches of the trees. Then Sam heard the far-off call of a horn.
"They're coming!" He cried out to Dean. The next step was going to require precision timing and a bit of luck. The sound of the horn was getting closer and Sam could hear the yelping of the hounds, a thrilling, frightening sound that chilled him down to the marrow. Crashing sounds came as the Hunt smashed through the trees and the yelping was very, very close. Sam barked out to Dean, "Now!" But his brother didn't move. In fact, he was frozen completely still. Sam tried to turn his head but he found he was similarly paralyzed.
The Wild Hunt was an incredible sight. No wispy spirits these, but as solid and real as anything around them. Only a misty blue glow that trailed after each movement suggested that they were not human. The head of the Hunt, a barrel-chested man with a large beard and wild eyes rode up to Sam and looked down on him, menacing and powerful.
"Nuada," Gabriel intoned. The man looked up and then inclined his head.
"Loki," he said respectfully. "It has been too many moons since you last rode with us."
"What can I say," Gabriel replied lazily. "I'm a busy guy."
"How can the Hunt serve you?" Nuada looked down at the Winchesters with an unholy glee in his eyes. "Have you brought us tribute?"
"Who these guys?" Gabriel said dismissively. "No, I have something much better for you." He snapped his fingers and Lugh appeared in front of him, bound with silver chains and murder in his eyes. Nuada's eyes widened.
"This is a princely gift, son of Odin. What boon would you seek in return?" Gabriel smiled.
"You took four humans from this place, as payment for a gift," Gabriel said easily. "Give them back and our deal is done." Nuada regarded Gabriel curiously.
"The boon you seek is a small one, compared to the value of this tribute." It was hard to distinguish the man's expressions under all his facial hair, but he seemed disturbed.
"Nevertheless, it is all I seek," Gabriel responded in a forbidding tone. Nuada inclined his head again.
"Then so must it be. I accept your bargain." He turned to Lugh, whose eyes were panicked, the whites plainly visible. Sam felt uncomfortable, what was going to happen to him? Nuada leaped down from his horse and unsheathed his sword. Alarm bells began to toll in Sam's head but he was powerless to do anything but watch as Nuada raised the sword and brought it down. He would have collapsed with relief when the blade touched each of Lugh's shoulders lightly, had he been able to move.
"Rise, Lugh. Master of the Wild Hunt. I go now to my rest!" Nuada leaned his head back and let out a ululating sound that had the hounds yelping again and a roar went up from the Hunters.
Lugh stood up and shot a furious look at Gabriel. The silver chains fell to the ground with a jingle.
"This was a mistake," he snarled. Gabriel gave him a contemptuous glance and then pushed his way into the Hunt. Lugh's gaze fell on Sam.
"And you," he sneered. "You threw your lot in with the wrong side, Sam. We will meet again." He swung up into the saddle of Nuada's horse. Lugh wheeled the animal around and the horn sounded, a shattering sound that was almost painful to hear. And then he plunged back into the woods and the Hunt followed, yelping and shouting.
Sam realized that he was able to move again and he looked around urgently. Gabriel was stood talking to four men just a few feet away, and he turned his head and met Sam's gaze. Then with a snap of his fingers he was gone.
Sam staggered painfully over to the confused-looking men, recognizing them as he got closer.
"You're Sam?" John Murphy asked as he approached.
"Yeah. John, right?" Murphy nodded and held out his hand.
"Your friend told us you're the one to thank for getting us home." Sam shook the outstretched hand but felt like a fraud. Gabriel had done all the work, really. And then disappeared again. He sighed.
"All right, let's get moving. I've had enough crawling around in the dirt for one evening." Dean said tiredly.