Unanswered Prayers

"…Dean… Help…

Find the Amulets…

The Amulets of the Gospels…"

Dean jolts awake, the words ringing clear in his head. He takes some quick breaths. It was just a dream; it can't be real. But it is. He just knows that it is.

Having slept in only his boxers after Sam took his clothes for a wash, he opts for the quickest resemble of modesty he can think of and clumsily wraps the sheet around himself before hurrying out the guest room. The house seems quiet, but his nose tells him to head for the kitchen.

Sam hears him coming and turns from the stove to greet him a good morning, but when Sam sees his attire, he grins instead. "Whoa, that almost makes me miss the dead man's rope. If you need clean clothes, you can just borrow some of mine." Sam turns back to the stove, flipping the frying eggs.

"I had a dream," Dean exclaims.

Sam looks over his shoulder with a confused frown. "Okay…? Are we sure I want to know about this dream?"

"Dude, it's not one of those dreams," Dean snaps before continuing. "I don't think it was a normal dream. I heard these words in my head: 'Find the Amulets of the Gospels'. Does that sound to you like something my mind would dream up?"

Sam finally removes the pan from the heat and fully turns around to face Dean. "The Amulets of the Gospels?"

Dean nods. "Yeah, and I saw… Well, it… I think I saw the Empty."

"The Empty? You think the Empty spoke to you?" Sam is starting to look concerned.

"No… I don't know. It sounded more like… It just popped up in my head. And then I saw the black goo from the Empty." Dean flops down on one of the kitchen chairs, letting the sheet pool around his stomach. "I can't explain it, man. It just felt… important."

Sam sits down across from Dean. "Maybe it is. But if the Empty is sending you these messages, it might be dangerous. A trap."

"Or maybe…" Dean barely whispers the words, but Sam hears him.

Sam knows what Dean is trying to say. "Or maybe it's Cas."

Dean looks up, realising that he has been staring down at the tabletop. "Dude, I swear, it sounded like him. Maybe he's telling me how to get him back."

"Dean…" Sam's eyes become annoyingly soft. "We looked everywhere-"

"I know!" Dean barks. He might not remember where he's been for the last four years, but he does remember the months they spent in the bunker, reading heavy book after ancient tome to find a way to get Cas back, but they came up just as empty as the damn Empty itself. But that still doesn't deter Dean. "But he's got insider knowledge now, you know?"

Sam shifts in his seat. "Dean… He's dead. And we both wish he weren't, more than anything. We can't let our emotions blind us."

"So you just want me to ignore it?" Dean growls.

"Of course not. We'll look into it. But for once, let's try to be smart about it, okay?"

Dean huffs, "Doesn't sound like our style."

"No, it doesn't," Sam chuckles.

Dean looks over his little brother, seeing the few signs of aging on his face and in his hair. Slowly, his vision expands from his brother to the kitchen around them. To the life that Sam has built. To everything that he has to lose. Dean nods, accepting that maybe he could jump headless into this thing, but Sam can't. Shouldn't. Sam needs to get home to his family in one piece. Leaning back in his seat, Dean nods to the stow. "So, is that real eggs you're cooking or some kind of vegan poison?"

-.-.-.-.-

Dean rubs his last piece of toast around his plate to soak up every last molecule of egg, butter, and cheese. He stuffs the bread in his mouth, enjoying the sweet taste of food. He looks up at Sam who is only now starting on his second piece of toast.

Dean doesn't finish chewing before talking: "So, you turned hunting into a nine to five job or something? You go to the bunker and boss people around, and then come home to your loving family?"

Sam smiles. "More or less. Except, Eileen helps out at the bunker too. Actually, she's there now, overseeing things with Miracle and Baby Dean."

Dean frowns, "Family business, huh?"

"Family business," Sam confirms with a small smile.

Dean tries not to sound at odds, but he can't completely hide it. "So, you're raising Baby Dean to be a hunter?"

"No." Sam shakes his head. "No, we are not doing that. But…" Sam looks away, trying to find the right words. "Both Eileen and I are hunters. Being a Winchester carries a lot of weight, both with our allies and our enemies. You saw how people gawked at you yesterday. You left quite a legacy in the business."

Dean leans his elbows on the table and rubs his head in his hands, trying to wipe away the sting of realisation. "Baby Dean has a target on his back."

"Yeah…" Sam taps his fingers nervously on his thigh. "We want him to be able to take care of himself. We don't plan on actually taking him on hunts, just teaching him. Hopefully, he'll never need to use it, but…"

"You really think you can keep him away from hunting? I mean if he's anything like his awesome uncle?"

Sam chuckles, "I don't know. I hope so. Eileen and I don't hunt anymore. We just help out with research and coordination and teaching the next generation."

Dean squints at his brother. "And you don't miss it?"

"No," Sam says definitively. But when he meets Dean's eyes, he quickly relents. "Or, not really, I mean… Sometimes I guess I get the itch to go take care of things myself, you know? Or to join a hunt to make sure everyone gets home safe. But then I look at Eileen and Dean, and… I'm okay with staying home."

"Good. That's good." Dean nods. He wraps his hands around his coffee mug, looking down at the quickly cooling liquid as he makes a decision. He's not dragging Sam back in the field. Not this time. When he picked Sam up from Stanford, he thought it was for Sam's best. Today, he doesn't understand how a version of himself could ever think that Sam would be better off on the road with him instead of building a home like this with Jessica.

"Stop it," Sam interrupts Dean's thoughts.

Dean looks up from the heavenly brew. "Stop what?"

"Blaming yourself for picking me up in Stanford. Blaming yourself for being here now," Sam states with a knowing smile.

"Why would I be thinking that?" Dean aims for nonchalance and misses.

"I've seen that look on your face too many times. I know you. You're my big brother, Dean."

Dean looks away. No matter what Sam says, Dean isn't going to let him get in danger. He looks up at Sam, his little brother. Or maybe he should say younger brother, because it's been a long time since Sam was little. And now, his wrinkles are a little deeper, there's a subtle grey that plays in his hair. He hasn't changed much, but there are small signs of the years that have passed since Dean died.

"Dude, it's been four years." Dean suddenly realises.

"I know?" Sam looks at Dean, unsure of what the four years has to do with their conversation.

"We're the same age!" Dean sits back in his seat. Damn, his not-so-little brother is not even younger than him anymore.

Sam blinks but then just burst into laughter. "Well, in that case, you don't get to tell me to stay out of this."

"Like hell I do. You could've been old and grey, and I would still be your big brother!"

Sam smiles, "Yes, you would."

"Damn straight." Dean stands up abruptly, nearly dropping the sheet, making Sam laugh again. Dean desperately catches the fabric around his waist before straightening, trying to look dignified but it's unsuccessful. That only makes Sam laugh harder. Dean grumbles: "Shut up and get me some pants."

-.-.-.-.-

Dean's not a short or small guy by any means, but Sam's gigantic clothes make him feel like it. The shirts are alright, but the rolled-up pant legs bug him. Sam doesn't say anything but with that smirk on his face he doesn't have to.

Sam suggests they head to the bunker to look up anything about these so-called Amulets. When they step outside, the pick-up is gone. Eileen must have taken it.

Dean looks up and down the sad family car. "So, we're driving civilian?"

"You can if you want to." Sam walks over to the garage. "I planned on taking this."

Sam holds the door open, and Dean curiously pokes his head inside.

She might be covered by a tarpaulin, but Dean recognises her shape instantly. He immediately feels a childlike excitement, skips to her side, and pulls the tarpaulin off.

She stands as beautiful as he remembers her; Shiny, clean, loved. He will never admit it out loud, but Sam has actually taken really good care of her.

"Hey Baby," Dean coos, running his hand over her cool surface. "Look at you, you gorgeous girl." Dean pets her from engine to trunk, enjoying the feel of Baby's smooth varnish under his calloused hand. When he gets to the trunk, he gets that tinkling in his fingers to open it and check the supplies, as he has done so many times before. And right there is his trusty Colt M1911A1, shining even in the limited light of the garage, together with his favourite knifes, lock-picking set and all the other small practical knick-knacks he used to carry. He lovingly picks up the gun. "Hey sweetheart."

Sam stands back, enjoying the sight of his happy brother. "Do you three need a moment alone?"

"Shut up," Dean automatically responses and shuts the trunk, putting the gun in the back of his jeans, where it belongs. He looks at his girl from behind. She is gorgeous from all angles. "Why was she all wrapped up like that? How can you appreciate her when she's all covered up?"

When Sam doesn't answer immediately, Dean looks up. The smile on Sam's face has turned sad, but he keeps his eyes on Dean. "Too many memories."

Dean swallows. He knows that Sam is not only referring to bad memories. Actually, it's probably all the good ones that get to him. Baby might have been home once, but Sam has a new home with Eileen and Baby Dean. Now, the Impala symbolises the past, probably Dean most of all, for better or for worse.

Dean clears his throat. "Well then, let's see if she still runs."

-.-.-.-.-

Luckily, no one seems to care about what Dean's wearing in the bunker. They still look at him as if he were a rockstar. After a trip in Baby, he feels like a rockstar. She purrs as beautifully as ever, steers as easily as always.

Dean passes four pairs of curious eyes when walking towards the library before he has to ask: "Where did you pick up all these groupies anyway?"

"Garth, mostly," Sam answers, leading the way. "We've been working the last couple of years to build up a hunters' network. To make sanctuaries, like this bunker, and share as much knowledge as possible. Imagine if we had known everything we know today about monsters, demons, and angels back when we started. We could have avoided making so many mistakes."

"Well, at least these people get to learn from our screw-ups," Dean concurs. It is quite impressive what Sam has accomplished. Dean wonders if Sam would have done the same if Dean hadn't died, or if living with him would have held Sam back.

That kid from yesterday, Thomas, is sitting in the library with a pile of books, tapping away on a laptop.

Sam walks up to him and poaches on the table. "Hey Thomas. How is the cataloguing going?"

Thomas looks up. His eyes fall on Dean, and from the look in his eyes, Dean almost fears that the kid will jump up to kiss his boots, but even though Thomas beams at Dean, he looks back to Sam and answers: "Good. We'll probably be done in a decade or two. We keep finding more books and relics to study."

"We?" Dean asks, looking at a very lonely Thomas.

"Yes, I'm actually just a librarian. Morgan is the one who controls all the computer stuff, setting up the database and all that. I work more on translations and research and cataloguing the artifacts in the bunker. Following Sam's example, of course." Thomas smiles widely, clearly looking for the brothers' approval.

"Ugh, I don't miss this part of hunting." Dean sits down in one of the chairs, secretly loving sitting at this table again.

"Then you will be happy to learn that you don't have to do the research. That's why we have Thomas and Morgan," Sam smiles.

Thomas looks embarrassed at the praise. "We do our best but…"

"No 'buts', dude," Dean interrupts. "If you hit the books so I can go hit the bad guys, you're awesome."

Thomas all but squeals, "That is so Dean Winchester!" At Dean's frown, he quickly relents. "I mean, that… uhm…"

"Are you saying that it is typical of my brother to be lazy?" Sam smirks at Dean, partially interrupting to save Thomas from embarrassment and partially taking any opportunity to tease his brother now that he can again.

Dean puts his feet on the table, leaning back in his chair. "Hey, work smarter, not harder. And getting you to do the research was very smart of me."

"While you were hitting the bars and picking up women," Sam says, but there is no malice in his voice, only fond memories, no matter how frustrating it might have been at times.

"Oh yeah, the good olde days," Dean smirks.

"Right… Well, at least now, we both get to load the research on Thomas." Sam puts his hand on the kid's shoulder, almost making him slide down in his chair.

"What do you need?" Thomas looks back and forth between them.

The brothers share a quick look, agreeing with a single glance to tell Thomas as little as possible.

"We need you to look for something called the Amulets of the Gospels. If you can't find that, maybe you can find out something about the Gospels themselves?" Sam asks.

"Sure." Thomas starts pushing the books around him away to create some workroom. "It doesn't ring a bell, but I will go 'hit the archive'."

Dean feels a pang of regret when Thomas uses air quotes to reference Dean's earlier statement. He swallows and forces himself to smile. "Thanks, Thomas."

"No problemo." Thomas walks to the bookcases and starts picking out books.

-.-.-.-.-

Sam ensures Dean that Thomas has it covered and then excuses himself to go help Eileen with some official boss-of-the-bunker-business.

Dean hovers a bit in the library, taking it all in again, but Dean being Dean, he soon drifts towards the kitchen. Few things have changed. Hunters don't really care about appliance upgrades. They are simply happy to have food on the table.

Speaking of, Dean walks over to the fridge to see if there's anything good. It is a lot fuller than back in his days. Makes sense with all these mouths to fill. Dean figures that being the boss's brother has to come with some perks, so he grabs a beer and a piece of cold pizza.

He leans against the counter as he takes his first sip, enjoying the cool drink. He takes a bite of his pizza and whoa, that's good.

He hears steps coming down the hall and hopes that Sam is joining him. Even though it's not even been half an hour since they parted, Dean still misses him. On some level, he thinks he can feel the four years they have been apart, even if he hasn't been the one living them, even if it feels like a split second to him.

But instead of Sam, a young woman turns the corner. She's got long dark hair and is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. And everything is… tight.

She stops at the door opening and eyes Dean with a predatorial gleam in her eyes. "You must be the infamous Dean."

Dean swallows the pizza. "Sounds like me. And you are?"

"Morgan."

Dean swallows again. "Morgan? Morgan the librarian?"

"So, you've heard about me," She smirks and walks closer, her hips swaying with intent. "I've heard a lot about you too."

"Only good things, I hope." Dean can't help but steal a few looks down her body, but he mostly follows her eyes.

"Mostly, yes. Also, a little bit bad," she says as she leans her hip on the counter next to him, standing just a bit too close. "Thomas won't shut up about you. He might be your biggest fan."

"Is that right?" Dean huffs a smile and takes a closer look at her. She's probably ten years younger than him, and despite being one of the designated librarians, she's clearly also a hunter considering the four weapons he can detect on her. And she is no doubt bad news. She is everything that Dean would normally jump right at.

But now, he's not feeling it. Sure, she's beautiful, sensual, and sexy as hell. But she's wrong. He can't put his finger on why, doesn't even really want to know why. It's just not right.

Dean clears his throat and awkwardly picks up the beer and pizza. "Well, I better get going." He quickly leaves the kitchen, ignoring her baffled look.

When he is walking down the hallway, his own actions and thoughts finally catch up with him. Morgan is smoking hot and clearly into him, for whatever reason. But right now, she is the last thing he wants. What the hell!?

-.-.-.-.-

Dean wanders the halls to pass the time, not wanting to disturb Sam, and not really wanting to play social with the other hunters yet. He greets them when he sees them, but that's all. They also seem a bit wary of him.

For a long time, he avoids one specific room but, in the end, he can't ignore it.

Just opening the door almost drains all of his courage. His breathing gets shallower in preparation for an attack he knows isn't coming. He forces himself to step inside. He closes the door after him, noticing that the blood isn't on the inside of the door anymore. He already knows that. It was Sam who washed it off. He just never removed it from his mind's eye.

The storage room has changed since… Well, the walls have been filled with shelves, which have been filled with boxes and files. You can barely see the wall where…

Dean lets out a loud breath, trying to diffuse the silence. He turns in a small circle, looking at every angle of the room. When he ends up looking at the door again, he clears his throat. He kicks the ground, annoyed with himself for making this so hard.

"Hey, Cas… I know you can't hear me. But I'm back. Don't know where I've been, but… I'm back from the dead, again. I thought it was scary the first time, but… This time I don't even remember where I was. It's like I just closed my eyes for a second and then everything changed. Only thing is… you're not here. You're the only thing that hasn't changed. You're still gone. And if Sam didn't bring me back, and you didn't… What the hell is going on, man?" Dean has to stop to take a few deep breaths. His eyes are burning but he refuses to give in to the tears. "I don't know if it was you, talking to me in my dream… It sounded like you, but… I don't know if it really comes from you or if it's a trap, but… I don't care. You hear me? I don't care. I'm gonna get you back, okay? No matter what, no matter how. So, just hang in there. Please, just hang in there."

-.-.-.-.-

Dean decides that it's not a good idea to be alone right now, so he looks up Sam and Eileen and just hangs in the background, watching his little brother run the show like a pro.

He plays with Miracle who has clearly taken it upon herself to protect Baby Dean while his mom and dad are saving innocent people. He tries to entertain Baby Dean when he wakes from his nap. Even though he has known the kid for less than a day, he already knows that he would lay down his life in a second to protect him. He looks so much like Sam that Dean's heart aches.

Later, he and Sam catch Eileen up on Dean's dream or vision or whatever it might be. She looks at Dean with the same pity as Sam did, and he almost wants to shake them both for being sceptical. But of course, he knows that they are right. He knows that stuff like this normally isn't good news.

-.-.-.-.-

Finally, after four hours, Thomas comes and asks them to join him in the library again.

They gather around a number of open books showing texts in various languages and colourful murals. Dean sits down. "That's a lot of books. Anything good?"

"I'm not sure." Thomas steps up and starts gesturing to the books as he explains. "I can't find anything in the Enochian texts about Amulets of the Gospels. Of course, the Gospels themselves are described in many texts and contexts in various cultures and religions, and through hundreds of years. In these texts, the Gospels are associated with some specific symbols, though I'm not sure if you could call that amulets."

"Alright, let's hear it," Sam encourages.

Thomas shows them an old mural. "Well, Mathew is symbolised by the divine man, a human with wings. Mark by a winged lion, Luke by a winged ox and last but not least, John is symbolised by a rising eagle."

Sam is nodding as he takes in the information. "That's good."

"It's good?" Dean leans back in his chair agitatedly, gesturing at the useless books. "A bunch of winged animals?"

"It's a place to start," Sam insists.

"Really?" Dean gets up from his chair to pace the floor. How the hell is this supposed to help them get to Cas? He tries to keep his voice down despite his growing desperation. "This might be our only clue to you-know-what. Our only chance to get him back. And you think this is good?"

Sam gets up and walks over to his brother, grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him away from Thomas' curious ears. "Listen, I know it doesn't seem like much, but this is the best clue we've had since Cas died. We've never been able to dig up any details about the Empty. It's barely mentioned anywhere. And now we have this huge clue! That's why I think this seems too good to be true. It's just falling into our lap. So you might not think it's enough, but it really is a damn good start."

Dean runs his hands through his hair and down his face, grounding himself as his nails scratch his scalp and his palms smooth the skin of his face. He lets go and takes a deep breath. "Okay. Alright. So you still think it's a trap?"

"I don't know. I guess I fear it is, but… I hope it isn't" Sam swallows, treading carefully as he whispers. "I miss him too, you know? He was my friend too. I know it wasn't quite what you and he had. And I know something happened that you don't want to tell me about-"

"Don't-"

"-And I'm not asking you to tell me. I'm just saying… if this can really get him back… Then I'm all in."

Dean looks at his brother. This is what he both hoped and feared. He doesn't want to drag Sam back in the field. But… he doesn't want to do it alone either. And that's the core of the problem, isn't it? That's why it all started. Because they need each other. Not just for support, not just as backup. But to do the work, the family business. Because they make each other better.

"Okay." Dean claps his hands together. "Let's get to work."