Chapter Fifty-Seven

Test Day

Valerius Estate: August 20, 2010 – Day

Dean grunted, catching Marcus' gladius just above the hilt of his own. He could hear the blade groaning under the man's angelically created blade. That and his strength, which was no longer human. Dean was pushing grace into his arms to keep the man at bay despite the fact Marcus wasn't breaking a sweat yet.

"Switch with me."

Dean blinked in surprise as Bobby entered the sparring pit. Marcus' lips twitched, and he stepped back. The shock of the movement made him stumble forward, and he shot a dirty look at the Roman. Marcus shrugged, going to sit with Azrial on the sidelines for the moment. She tossed him a water bottle before he even reached her, which the man caught with a grateful nod.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked breathlessly.

"You need an opponent that's similar to what you'll face," Bobby said. "And I need to get used to Crowley's power."

"Wait, Crowley is… Shit!"

Dean pivoted just in time to avoid a flaming angel blade.

Yes, Crowley is in his body,Castiel informed him.

Thanks for the warning,Dean sarcastically shot back as he dodged another well-aimed hit.

He could feel Azrial and Marcus watching them more carefully than they had when he was sparring with one of them. Was this a test? He knew Crowley was strong, and with Bobby's skills backing him… Well, it was a deadly combination. It was probably the closest he'd get to an actual enemy if the old man was giving it his all.

He could actually smellCrowley, which made his nose twitch uncomfortably. It wasn't the normal cologne the demon wore; it was deeper. Deeper than the traces of sulfur a demon could sometimes leave behind. It was warm, like a crackling fire, but also dangerous. He wasn't entirely sure how to even describe it to himself without sounding insane.

Don't focus on it,Castiel ordered. It's my own instinct telling you demons aren't safe. I can't undo millennia worth of training just because Crowley is now a friend.

"Friend, huh?" Dean mumbled to himself. "Hey, Crowley, Cas just called you his friend."

"Nice try," Bobby said, his eyes flecked with red. "Gotta do better than that to distract us."

"Worth a shot," Dean grunted as he caught the flaming angel blade on his gladius. "Guess I'll just have to beat both you old men down."

"It's honestly adorable that you think you can beat us."

Dean wasn't ready for the painful punch to his stomach. Bobby had moved fast, faster than Marcus ever had. Dean stumbled back, blocking the angel blade before it connected with his shoulder.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Dean wheezed.

"Why the hell didn't you dodge?" Bobby demanded. "Will you be this sloppy against an actual enemy?"

Dean felt the blood drain from his face when he realized what this was. He shot a look toward Marcus and Azrial, who looked displeased at the fight so far. This wasn't a spar, this wasn't training, it really was a damn test. One being given by a man he knew in his gut didn't want him involved in any of this shit. If that meant beating him down to show how woefully unprepared he was, so be it.

"Fine," Dean hissed. "We'll do this."

Dean? Castiel sounded worried.

No. Azrial is testing you just as much as me. We need to nail this, Cas, even if we are coughing up blood by the end.

I hate when you're right. Castiel sounded frustrated, not that Dean blamed his lover.

Bobby lunged again, deadly precision backed up with sweltering flames. The man's eyes were sad, though, and underneath all the bravado, he saw hesitation. He clung to it, hoping to balance the fight. Dean snapped Castiel's wings down harshly, sending sand flying in all directions. He used the cover to snag a hasta from the weapon's rack and traced Crowley's smell. He lunged quickly; a flash of pride burned through him when the smell of blood hit the air. Flames careened toward him, but he snapped Castiel's wings again. Sand smothered the flames, and he raised the hasta and gladius just in time to catch the angel blade aimed at his chest.

"Nice try," Dean ground out. "But I can smell you more clearly when you take over, Crowley."

Red eyes stared back at him, Bobby's lips curving into a pleased smirk. "You're learning, squirrel. Keep it up."

Dean cursed as Bobby vanished, making him stumble forward when the weight against his weapons disappeared. The air shifted behind him, and Dean instinctively took to the air. He pivoted his body as he did so, aiming the hasta where he'd just been. He was confident the attack would take both Bobby and Crowley off guard. When the sand settled, though, his eyes widened in surprise.

Bobby had caught the hasta before it hit his chest.

"You should never give your opponent a weapon."

The reprimand was soft, but Dean's sensitive hearing picked it up. He moved a moment too late, and the hasta cut through the tip of Castiel's right wing. He cried out in pain, the sound doubled in his mind. He lashed out, his teeth bared in a snarl as he clashed with Bobby. The man was forced to step back even with Crowley's considerable strength backing him. Dean let their wings vanish, hoping they would heal in the astral realm. Right now, they were a liability, especially with his fear of heights. It was throwing off his balance, and he was better off continuing the fight on the ground. He curled his hand into a fist, pushing as much grace into it as he could before aiming it.

Bobby caught it, pride flashing in his eyes.

"Anyone else, and that would have been damn smart."

Bobby's voice was layered, and Dean realized with a start Crowley was complimenting him as well. He should have expected the painful kick to the stomach for getting distracted. He gasped and fell to his knees, dry heaving.

"Enough," Azrial called.

Bobby glanced her way, nodding slowly. "Enough," he agreed. The man knelt, looking Dean in his eyes. "Tell me you understand why," he said softly.

Dean stared into the soft blue eyes filled with worry and regret. "You better kick Sam and Gabriel's ass, too," he said. "Else I'm calling BS."

Bobby chuckled, helping him to his feet. "I'm going to give your brother a chance to take Cassius' advice before I do, but trust me, he's next."

Dean hummed, groaning as he rubbed his stomach. "Speaking of Gabriel, I'm going to see him and then get a damn shower. Any objections?"

Bobby shook his head. "None from me. You should train a bit with the hasta and gladius, though. That was a deadly combo."

"Indeed," Marcus agreed. "One I can easily teach you since it was a style used regularly. You should rest for the remainder of the day, though."

"You did good, both of you," Azrial said. "Bobby insisted on testing you himself, and I couldn't say no after the three of us got into the same argument earlier."

"Oh, so you let him kick our ass out of guilt?" Dean sarcastically demanded.

"Think of it as an equal opportunity ass-kicking," Azrial suggested. "And don't tip your brother and Gabriel off. They need this exercise far more than you."

Dean couldn't argue that. The few times he fought with Sam and Gabriel, he'd noticed the hesitation. He didn't fully understand it, but he knew it was something his brother had to work out on his own.

"Then I better sneak back inside before he shows up. Otherwise, he'll have questions. Guess I'll heal on my own." Dean sighed, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Why do I have a feeling this will be easier to handle than dinner?"

"Because it will be," Bobby said flatly. "You know what John is like. Go relax before the real battle tonight."

Dean grunted. "Yeah, maybe I'll have time to catch a nap. Try not to body me again tomorrow, alright? That clip to the wing hurt like hell."

Bobby winced. "I'm sorry."

Dean frowned, bumping his shoulder against the man. "Don't be. It was a reality check. I've gotten better, but I need to keep pushing if we are going to survive this. No way to sugarcoat it."

"You know I didn't enjoy-"

"Don't even," Dean said firmly. "I could tell it was killing you, old man." Bobby still looked conflicted, so Dean pulled him into a hug despite the sweat coating his clothes. "I love you, Dad," he muttered. "You're tryin' to keep us alive. I know that."

"Then you better fucking stay alive," Bobby whispered.

Dean released Bobby and shot Azrial and Marcus a mock-offended look. "As for the two of you…fuck you."

Azrial laughed, and Marcus shook his head in amusement. Dean left the arena, pleased with his progress even if he did get beat down.

We've made large strides,Castiel said. We keep going.

Damn right. I want that beach holiday, Cas.

Castiel's amusement gave him the energy to drag his ass back to the villa and a much-needed shower.

Line Break

"Really?"

Sam almost rolled his eyes at his father's skepticism. Almost. Honestly, he was too tired to even bother.

"Really," he said, mustering a smile. "So, you wanna come?"

"We'd love to," his mom said before his father could object. "Should we come up with you now or later?"

"I need to grab a shower and some Advil," he joked. "Dinner is going to be in about two hours. A few people have jobs that go beyond just training, so there's a bit of a gap in the schedules to accommodate for that."

"Well, you could shower here," his mother offered. "And then we could talk a bit before the dinner. I'd like to hear more about you and your brother."

Sam would rather put a gun in his mouth if he were honest. He was hesitant to talk in-depth about their childhood at all to his mom. He highly doubted his father had explained what happened after her death. If he did, he'd likely made himself look like some kind of martyr. Still, she looked desperate, and wasn't this what he'd always wanted?

"Okay," he said softly. "I can do that."

She lit up, and he shot his father a thoughtful look. The man wouldn't meet his eyes, so he glanced around. "Bathroom through there?" he asked, nodding at the only door beside the entrance to the one-room cottage-like house.

"Oh, yes," his mother said. "Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate it."

He softened a bit, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Of course. We have to take the time we have, right?"

Her smile melted his worries, at least for now. He walked toward the bathroom, locking the door behind him. It was nowhere near as luxurious as the massive one he had at the villa but still leagues above what he'd been used to before moving here.

Gabe?He hoped his partner had his ears on because otherwise, this shower was pointless. Any way you can miracle me some fresh clothes? Got stuck with my parents and won't be back until dinner.

He got the shower set up, inhaling the steam with a pleased sigh. He thought Marcus had been a taskmaster, but apparently, everyone failed to mention Cassius was the one who normally created the training regimes since Marcus had other duties. At this point, his muscles were ready to mutiny. The smell of fresh spun cotton candy and jolly rancher lollipops made him turn toward the sink, and he smiled at the neatly folded clothes. There was a protein drink and bottle of Advil sitting on top of them with a note. He cracked open the drink, sipping it as he picked up the note.

That sucks. If your body shows up, I'll flip a coin to decide if you did it yourself or your father finally lost it. See you at dinner.

Sam choked on his drink, his laugh sending the liquid down the wrong pipe. There were little hearts and x's and o's that amused him to no end. Gabriel really could be over the top, but it always left him feeling warm. He set the drink down and was about to get in the shower when another note popped onto his clothing. He picked it up, noting Rowena's careful scrawl.

We promise to make it up to you tonight. Just get through dinner.

He smiled, folding up the notes and tucking them into the pocket of his clean jeans. Tonight was going to be a disaster, he already knew that, but at least after, he'd have people to talk to about it besides his brother. They'd grown their little dysfunctional family, and nothing—not even his father and his mom—was going to take that away. Not after everything they'd been through.