Chapter Fifty-Three
Kindling
Valerius Vineyard: August 18, 2010 – Evening
Dinner was chaotic. Their normal group was joined by Jo and Claire at Azrial's insistence, both surprised she wanted them involved in the finer details of planning. Rowen and Sue had been invited to make sure the children were settling into the life on the estate. Balthazar and Rufus had been spending time together, the two waiting for further guidance on what was needed. Lastly, Cassius, Felix, Aeliana, and Gaius had joined the already crowded table. Thankfully, it was clear Cassiopeia and Orion were more than prepared for a large family meal. They were in a different dining room now, much older from the looks of it, that could seat at least fifty at a long table. Sam listened intently as Bobby, Azrial, and Marcus explained their meeting earlier. With each word, the small ball of hope in his chest grew. It was clear a lot of thought had gone into breaking things down into more manageable chunks. The fact Bobby had basically become a den mother amused him to no end, but he knew it suited the gruff man.
"So," Rowena drawled softly. "Will we be divided up and working with one group in particular going forward?"
"That was the thought," Azrial said. "We each have our strengths, and the only way we survive is by playing to them."
"This is going to be a long dinner." Rufus sighed. "I need more wine."
Azrial snorted in amusement but did ask for another bottle from a nearby maid. "On that note, Dean and I fly out tomorrow to Ireland. Castiel is on SOS standby and will get us out if we have any issues."
"I hope you find something," Sam said gently. "I really do."
"So do I," she said. "Hopefully, since this tip came directly from Death, we'll finally make some progress."
"And if it doesn't," Castiel said softly, "I think it may be time to focus on those who are here."
Azrial looked pained at the words but slowly nodded in agreement. She finished off her wine with a deep gulp and shut her eyes for a few moments. Bobby picked up the conversation to give her a chance to gather her thoughts.
"Rowena, Balthazar, I'd like your help with the warding and weapons respectively. Rowena, you'll be working with Gabriel and Orion. Balthazar, I need your help to finish identifying the horde of weapons Azrial and Crowley brought here."
Both nodded, seemingly content with their assigned tasks. Sam could admit he was eager to see what he'd be doing at this point.
"Jo, I need you to work with Rowen and Rufus," Marcus requested. "The three of you know how to make different types of weapons to injure our enemies. If we can adapt them to the weaponry the men are used to, that would be helpful."
"Claire," Aeliana said softly. "I would like you to work closely with Cassiopeia and me. I know it seems silly, but running the estate takes so much work when it is this active. I would enjoy your company."
Ah, there it was, Sam thought. Azrial was drawing the line on who would be involved in everything. Thankfully, Claire looked happy to be included at all and gratefully accepted.
"Sam." Marcus saying his name made him turn to the man. "Cassius will be taking over your training. When Gabriel is not working with Bobby, he will join you."
Sam frowned, glancing toward the redhead thoughtfully. Cassius winked at him, clearly knowing something he didn't. He wasn't entirely sure now was the time to ask why he'd been shifted to Cassius instead of continuing with Marcus. Maybe it had something to do with overseeing the relief base rather than direct fighting?
"Sounds good. Are Dean and I not working together anymore?"
"At times, you still will," Marcus said. "Likely under the oversight of not just Azrial but Felix, Cassius, Giaus, and myself. There are skills we would like to pass on to you, time permitting. Skills that will serve you well after this war is over, I hope."
He nodded in understanding, not missing Dean's curious look. His brother had taken to this new life they found themselves in like a duck to water. He fit in here, which had initially surprised Sam. His brother could be as stubborn as their father at times. Instead, since the moment he'd gotten with Castiel, he'd grabbed life by both hands and said fuck it. It took Sam longer; he'd be the first to admit it. Crowley working closely with them brought up a lot of bad memories. Memories he hoped to forget. The longer they were all around each other, though, the more comfortable he felt as well. He'd known before coming here that they'd forged their own little family. A family his father wouldn't approve of.
Maybe he could still see the future after all. He sighed at the thought and tried to focus back on the conversation. He still needed to talk to Dean before he left with Azrial. He knew that had been arranged to give his brother time to cope with their father being here. He wasn't sure whose idea it was, but he was grateful. He was sure Dean was looking for an excuse to shoot their father after what happened in the past—especially since it wouldn't kill him.
Line Break
Dean lounged on a pool chair, waiting for Sam to show up. He was alone now, most of the others choosing to either go to sleep or hit the baths. In particular, Azrial had rounded up all the women and practically demanded they enjoy a nice soak. Given the amusement radiating off Marcus and Cassius, this had been a common thing in the past.
"Hey."
Dean glanced up, smiling at his brother. "Hey, bitch."
Sam snorted and sat down on the other lounge chair, not bothering to face him directly. His brother let out a pleased sigh as his back relaxed against the cushioned surface. A comfortable silence stretched between them, a far cry from how things had been leading up to the apocalypse kicking off. For all the crazy shit that happened to them between then and now, Dean was grateful for how his relationship with Sam had improved. It was a far cry from the distrust and doubt that spread between them back when Ruby was alive. He couldn't even imagine something like that happening now.
"What should we do about our father?" Sam asked softly.
Father, not dad, because their dad was currently knocking back a few drinks with Marcus, Cassius, Felix, and Giaus. Father, because John had long ago lost the title of dad. If Dean were honest, the man had lost the title of dad from the moment he'd asked him to kill Sam if the worst happened.
"We could bite the bullet and go down there tonight," Dean said emotionlessly. "If you want, I mean."
He felt Sam's eyes but didn't bother to turn. The small waterfall feeding the pool made a great distraction.
"Not before you get back," Sam said after a few moments. "Not without Cas."
Now he turned to his brother. "How did you know Cas was going to come?"
Sam snorted, a knowing smile tugging on his lips. "Dean, come on, I have eyes."
Dean chuckled, knowing there was no use being offended. Almost everyone talked about what a good fit he and Castiel were. It would be weird if he couldn't feel it himself. If he couldn't see it himself. He did, though, and he would forever be grateful to the angel who'd crash-landed in their lives. Even if that did make him a bit of a sap.
"I'm tempted to ask Azrial and Marcus for that dinner," Dean admitted. "He can't focus on me corrupting you if there is a bunch of other people at the table to bitch at."
"Are you really up to that?" Sam asked. "I mean, I agree it may help to...spread out his anger. There isn't anyone at that table who can't handle whatever our father throws at them."
Dean snorted. "Rowena would eat him alive."
Sam laughed, the sound easing some of the tension that had stubbornly held on throughout the day.
"I won't even deny that." Sam sighed, running a hand down his face. "We can't just ignore them. Especially mom. She doesn't know what's going on between us, I can tell."
"Why would she? It's not like he'd tell her how fucked up our lives were because of his choices."
Sam didn't say anything. Dean knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn't help it. He had a harder time keeping his opinions about his father in check since his fun little jaunt to the past. Feeling Castiel bleed out in his arms was up there as one of the most horrific moments in his life. Considering he'd been torn to shreds by hell hounds, that was saying something.
"Alright, let's do the dinner thing. Main group?"
"Yeah. Rufus is a riot, but he'd egg our father on just to see Bobby throw down."
Sam choked down a laugh. "Especially since nothing would kill him."
Dean hummed, ignoring the tiny voice in his head that wanted to put a bullet in his father's chest. He wanted the man to feel at least a fraction of the pain he'd cause him and Castiel. He pushed it down, though, knowing acting on that impulse would only make the situation worse. He'd store it away if the man started a fight first, though. He was only human, after all.
Line Break
Crowley found Azrial and Bobby sound asleep when he and Marcus finally entered the room. Azrial was curled into Bobby's arms, her bathrobe still on and her face pressed into the man's neck. Bobby at least managed to get undressed, the silk sheet thrown over his hips the only thing covering him. Crowley shucked his jacket, draping it on an antique chair that sat near the bed.
"This is the most relaxed I have seen her," Marcus said softly.
Crowley sighed, nodding at the man. "I swear the only time she's relaxed is in sleep, and that's only if there are no nightmares."
He felt more than saw the look of surprise from Marcus but continued to undress. After today, he was too tired to preempt questions. He was down to just his pants when Marcus finally broke the silence.
"What happened to her? Back then, you said you could not tell me. What about now?"
Crowley sighed again, sitting on the bench at the end of the bed to untie his shoes. "You should really ask her," he said carefully. "Some of the things that happened to her are deeply personal, and the little I could tell you wouldn't make sense without the full picture."
"And you are not against me spending time with her?" Marcus asked.
"How many times must I tell you?" Crowley asked rhetorically. "Bobby and I, we know what you being here means to her. Talk, spend time together, bloody fuck her if you want. I'd even recommend it. It may help you both elevate the guilt you refuse to acknowledge."
Marcus was quiet as Crowley fully stripped. He knew Marcus wouldn't care, having seen him nude more than once in the past, thanks to the baths. He couldn't stand sleeping in clothing, and he didn't understand how Azrial was dressed. She normally hated anything against her skin but blankets. It was a testament to her exhaustion, he decided.
"I will take your words under advisement," Marcus said. "Perhaps it is time to discuss such things."
"Considering we all may die in the very near future, I'd recommend it." He pushed the sheet down, snorting at Azrial's whine of annoyance before turning back to Marcus. "Remember, she doesn't go to Elysium when she dies," he said quietly. "Her and I? If we die during this battle, that's it. No grand afterlife. No pseudo-second life. We sleep. Forever."
Marcus looked sick at the reminder but nodded in understanding. The man didn't say anything else, but he did shoot a longing look at the large bed. Crowley gave him a flat look that he hoped said; just ask, you moron, but it clearly didn't work. Marcus sighed and moved behind the dividers to the other large bed. Crowley made a mental note to put an end to this pussy footing. He had zero patience for it, and he knew reconnecting would help soothe Azrial's old wounds.
He slipped into bed, pressing his chest against Azrial's back and placing a kiss against her bare shoulder. At least there were a few hours of respite each day; he was pretty sure he'd lose his mind otherwise.