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Hunting Humanity VII	By : greenwizard11 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Supernatural universe. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
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- 13
Dean woke to find Liam already awake and sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached out to touch the blond’s back and caused him to jump. “Sorry, Babe, didn’t mean to startle you. Is something wrong? And before you answer, remember just how bad things get when you bottle shit up.”

Liam sighed and leaned back, turning more toward Dean. “Just doing a lot of thinking about stuff.”

“Like?”

“I know you’re a hunter, and I know you’ve seen a lot of weird crap in your lives. But I take the cake, don’t I? I mean, I haven’t really had a lot of black outs lately, and for that I really won’t complain. But some of the things I’ve done… Last week with that role playing battle for instance, I knew just how to win the battle. It wasn’t real of course, but somehow I know that if it had been I would’ve kicked ass. And demons, I kill those with ease. None of this is normal, and it seriously doesn’t weird you out?”

“Nope,” Dean answered honestly and sat up to give Liam a tender kiss. “Babe, some special people have gifts. Now, the ones who use those for evil purposes, we hunt those sons of bitches down. But you, you use them for good. How many times do I gotta tell you, you’re just a beautiful and gifted soul. I think God created you special.”

Liam let out a deep sigh and leaned against his lover. “You say that like you know it for a fact. Actually, a lot of the time it feels like there’s something everyone else knows that I don’t. I don’t like that feeling. Dean, I don’t like being different.”

Dean moved to run a finger through his hair. “I really wouldn’t worry about it. I mean it, just keep doing what you’re doing. Kick demon ass. But right now we need to get dressed because Sam will be here to go to breakfast soon. You know he’s always eager to get home to his family.”

Just as Dean predicted, they had barely gotten their clothes on before Sam knocked on the door. “You guys ready to head on home?”

“Yeah, just need some grub first,” Dean nodded.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and a strange man wearing strange clothes came through the closet door and looked up at them. “Which of you is John Winchester?” his eyes scanned the three men in the room. They all just stared blankly at him. “Please, time is of the essence! Which of you is John Winchester?”

“None of us,” Sam finally answered, looking a little dumbfounded.

“That's impossible. That's absolutely... What did I do wrong?” the man looked upset.

“Who the hell are you, mister?” Dean asked.

“Not now. I'm thinking,” the man dismissed the question. Dean growled and grabbed him by the shirt, slamming him up against the wall. “Please. I can assure you there's no need for violence. One of you must know John Winchester.”

Sam stepped forward. “I'll tell you what, when one of us falls out of your closet, then you can ask the questions.”

The man nodded. “Yes, my apologies. Is it absolutely essential, sir, that you keep your hands on me?” Dean let out a frustrated sigh, but took a step back. “Thank you. Gentlemen, in the absence of any and all other explanations, I'm afraid this has been a marvelous, tragic misunderstanding. I'll be on my way.”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “You mean, you think you can just magically appear out of our closet and then leave without so much as telling us who the hell you are and where you came from?”

“There are things of grave importance. I do not have time to deal with the likes of you,” the man headed for the door quickly.

In one swift motion Dean grabbed the man’s arm and a pair of handcuffs. “You're not going anywhere till we get some answers.” He tried to handcuff their visitor to a chair, but somehow the man made a motion and it was Dean who wound up handcuffed. “How did he do that? You got to be kidding me!”

Before the man could escape though Liam wrestled him down to the bed. “You ain’t the only one with tricks up your sleeve,” he smirked while forcing the stranger down into the chair.

Dean had gotten himself free and stood over the stranger. “Okay, start by telling us everything before I beat it out of you.”

The man just looked up at him. “I'm quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha male monkey friend. And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier.”

Dean grabbed a gun, clearly getting agitated while he pointed it at the stranger. “Let me tell you what I understand! Some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad. So why am I not getting violent, again?”

The man looked surprised. “John Winchester is your father?” Before anything more could be said there was a loud rattling noise. “What is that?” the stranger got to his feet. “Oh, my God. Run!”

The closet door burst open again and this time a woman stepped out with a smirk and a little chuckle. “Henry. Silly man, you forgot to lock the door. But then spells never were your best subject, were they? Why don't you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly.”

“You know I can't do that.”

“You're not a fighter, Henry.”

Liam’s eyes then flashed red. “Oh, somebody to play with finally!” he smirked. With a wave of his hand the woman went flying hard into the wall on the opposite side of the room. “And just when I thought there were no challenges left for me.” Suddenly she convulsed and screamed in pain.

Only a few seconds passed before Astiratu was slammed into a wall himself and the woman stood. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot,” she glared at Henry. “Your newfound guardian angel can’t watch your back every second,” she said before she disappeared.

“What the…?” Henry looked to Astiratu with very wide eyes. “What did she mean guardian angel?”

Dean pushed Henry back into a sitting position. “If I recall correctly, it was your turn to answer our questions, pal. You want to tell us who Betty Crocker was?”

Henry took a few breaths. “Abaddon. She's a demon.”

Sam glanced to Astiratu and snorted. “No kidding. Where'd she come from?”

“Where'd you come from?” Dean asked.

“She's from hell. I'm from Normal, Illinois, 1958.”

Dean didn’t look like he believed it. “Yeah, right. Seriously? Dudes time traveling through motel room closets? That's what we've come to?”

“If you could just take me to John, we could clear all this up, I'm sure.”

“That's not gonna happen,” Dean shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because he's dead!” Dean snapped.

Henry looked away and looked rather upset. “No...”

“What's it to you?” Sam asked.

“Everything. I'm his father.”

Astiratu gave an amused little chuckle. “Oh wow, your relatives are just popping up all over the damn place, aren’t they?”

“Shut up, you!” Dean snapped at the half angel and turned to the man claiming to be his grandfather. “And you, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do. But just so you get the gravity of the situation, I’m gonna answer your question. The blond, well, normally his name is Liam and he’s my significant other. Right now you’re dealing with his soul, Astiratu, half angel, half human extraordinaire. There ain’t much in existence he can’t turn into mince meat. Makes him very handy to have around.”

Henry looked Astiratu over with curiosity all over his features. “But there is no such thing as an angel human hybrid.”

Astiratu rolled his eyes. “One of the Men of Letters don’t know something. Shocking, that,” he said in a condescending tone. “Because, hey, how could anyone ever slip anything past any of you,” his tone turned to mocking. “Really, the world’s walking answer for everything supernatural. My god, you retards are quite full of yourselves, aren’t you?”

“Says the most arrogant bastard I’ve ever met,” Dean interjected. “Anyhow, my brother and I now have more questions than answers here. Uh, Henry is it? You’re with us now. Obviously we can’t stay here because that demon will be back eventually. I’m also starving, so we’re going to go find food while you convince us you are who you say you are.”

They got into the car and Dean started driving around to find a diner while Sam grilled Henry. When they found a place to eat they walked in with Henry holding a black and white photograph of him with a baseball posing with his young son. Dean motioned for Astiratu to take Henry to a booth while they went to the counter to order the food. Sam turned to his brother. “Driver's license says he's Henry Winchester from Normal, Illinois. He knows Dad's birthday, the exact place where he was born. Dude, that's our grandfather.”

Dean sighed. “I'm just saying before we break out the warm and toasties, let's not forget that, uh, H.G. Wells over there left Dad high and dry when he was a kid.”

“But maybe he didn't run out on Dad,” Sam pointed out. “I mean, not on purpose. Maybe he time traveled here and, I don't know, got stuck.”

“Yeah, well, either way, Dad hated the son of a bitch.”

“And Dad made up for that how? By being father of the year?”

“Look, Dad had his issues, okay, but he was always there for us. I freaking hate time travel, man.”

The waitress brought out the food and Sam picked up the tray and carried it to the table. “How are things going here?” Sam asked as he sat down.

“Very interesting,” Henry answered. “This creature is being a little less than cordial, but I find him fascinating.”

“I bet you’d find your own asshole fascinating,” Astiratu shot at him.

“That’s enough,” Sam gave him a look. “He’s um, an acquired taste. It takes a little while to warm up to someone. And um, if what you’re saying is true, then we’re your grandsons.”

“That you are,” Henry nodded. “And I’m very pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Sam, and this is Dean. One thing I am very curious about though. How did you get here?”

“A very simple blood sigil,” Henry answered. “You should know this. What level are you two?”

“What level?” Dean looked confused.

“Level of knowledge. You're Men of Letters, correct?”

The brothers looked at each other for a moment. “I'm a little rusty on my boy bands. Men of what?”

“Men of Letters, like your father, who taught you our ways.”

“Our father taught us how to be hunters,” Sam answered.

Henry laughed. “You're not. Are you? Hunters? Well, hunters are... Hunters are apes. You're supposed to… you're legacies.”

Astiratu made a little hand motion toward Henry. “This would be why Men of Letters annoy the fuck out of me. They think themselves so superior, when really they’re just a bunch of pantywaists who like to read. Kind of a relief when Jason cut ties with them.”

“Jason who?” Henry asked.

“Jason Walker,” Astiratu answered.

“You mean the legend? You knew him?” Henry seemed a bit in awe.

“I did. In fact, I’m the reason he cut ties with you retards. You see, at the time this body I’m in, well, it was a vampire. He cut ties with everyone in the line of monster killing to protect me.”

“Why would he do that for a blood sucker?”

“First of all, that term, while accurate, is a tad offensive. Second, I was seeking a cure from him. Even though he didn’t manage it, your grandsons did with some help.”

“Okay, well, as interesting as all of this is,” Dean interrupted, “why don’t we talk more about what brought you here?”

Henry nodded. “Abaddon, yes, she needs to be stopped. And to do that we need to take a little trip.”

They drove Henry where he wanted to go and parked on the side of the street. Henry got out and went straight to a building with a sign that said Astro Comics out front. There was what looked like a very old and worn symbol on the front that Henry ran his fingers over. “What's going on here?”

“A man as brilliant as you can’t figure that out?” Astiratu made a cheap shot.

Henry turned. “You know, I’m getting a little tired of you and your snark. You don’t think highly of my organization, that’s abundantly clear, but you could at least be civil, or helpful. I can’t recall ever having personally slighted you.”

“Except for maybe telling me I don’t exist while I’m standing right here in front of you.”

“All right, well, this was enlightening,” Dean interrupted. “Let's hit the road, huh?”

“Give him a minute, Dean,” Sam looked to his brother.

Dean sighed. “We just spent four hours driving, okay? All he did was stare out the window and request Pat Boone on the radio. He had his time.”

Henry turned back to the store front. “It's just a facade, a way to rook our enemies into believing we are housed elsewhere.”

Dean reached to pull him around again. “Okay, enough with the decoder talk. How about you tell us what this whole Men of Letters business is, or you're on your own.”

“It's none of your concern,” Henry answered.

“Why, because we're hunters? What do you have against us?”

“Aside from the unthinking, unwashed, shoot first and don't bother to ask questions later part, not much, really.”

Astiratu looked to Dean. “Beginning to see my irritation?”

“A little.”

“You know what? Wait a second. We're also John's children,” Sam pointed out.

“You're more than that, actually. My father and his father before him were both Men of Letters, as John and you two should have been. We're preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters, the very elite. They do the rest.”

“So you're like Yodas to our Jedis.” Henry gave Dean a strange look at the comment. “Never mind. You'll get there.”

“Okay, but if you guys were such a big deal, then why haven't we, or anyone we know, ever heard of you?” Sam asked.

“Abaddon,” Henry answered simply as he opened up the shop door and headed inside.

“Henry. Why? Why'd she do it?” Sam asked as they followed him.

“I think for this,” Henry held up a small wooden box with a symbol carved on it.

“Okay, what's that?” Sam asked.

“I wish I knew,” Henry sighed and tucked the box back into his pocket. “Abaddon attacked us the night of my final initiation. All secrets were to be revealed then.”

“Let me get this straight. You traveled through time to protect something that does you don't know what from a demon that you know nothing about?” Dean gave Henry a funny look.

Henry continued down the hall all the way to the counter with a woman dressed in goth clothing behind it. “Hand me your... walkie talkie,” he turned to Sam.

“You mean my phone?” Sam asked as he pulled the device out of his pocket.

“Even better,” Henry took it and held it to his mouth. “Operator, I need Delta 457.”

“Who are you not calling?” Dean asked.

“Our emergency number,” Henry answered.

“Yeah. Not anymore,” Dean snatched the phone and handed it back to Sam.

Henry looked around. “They can't all be gone. There must be another elder out there who can help us figure out how to stop Abaddon and what to do with the box.”

Dean walked up to the counter and flashed the woman his best charming smile. “Hey, uh, hi. Can we hijack your computer for a hot second?”

“Sure,” she smiled back.

“Thanks,” Dean turned the lap top on the counter around. “Sam.”

Sam stepped forward. “Yep. All right, um... give me a name, anybody who, uh, might have been there that night, one of those elders.”

Henry thought a moment. “Um... Ackers, David. Larry Ganem. Um, Ted...”

Sam pulled up an article. “Okay, here it is. Um, August 12, 1958. A tragic fire at a gentleman's club. Uh, 242 Gaines Street.”

Henry looked a little shaken. “This is 242 Gaines Street. But that was no fire.”

Sam showed him the article. “Larry Ganem, David Ackers, Ted Bowen, and Albert Magnus, all deceased.”

“Albert Magnus,” Henry repeated the name as if it meant something.

“He a friend of yours?” Dean asked.

“Even better,” Henry said as he left the shop.

Henry led them to a cemetery where they were all buried. “These were my friends, my mentors, our last defense against the Abaddons of the world,” he said as he made his way through the headstones.

Dean shined his flashlight on one of them. “Here's your buddy Albert Magnus.”

Henry turned to see it. “Albertus Magnus. He was hardly a buddy. He was the greatest alchemist of the middle ages.”

“Beg to differ,” Astiratu said as he stood over the grave.

“Whatever,” Sam sighed. “So, why is he buried here?”

“He's not,” Henry answered. “His was the alias we'd use when going incognito. I believe someone planted his name in that article so that if a Man of Letters came looking for answers he'd know something was amiss.”

Sam looked at the headstone. “So someone wanted you to come to this grave.”

Henry nodded. “The question is why.”

Dean focused his light on a symbol carved into the stone. “What is this?”

“Our crest. The Aquarian Star, representing great magic and power. They say it stood at the gates of Atlantis itself.”

Astiratu snorted. “Humans. You crack me up.”

Sam looked around. “Hmm. It's on all the tombstones except for this one, uh, Larry Ganem.”

Henry knelt down to examine the different symbol on that tombstone. “The Haitian symbol for speaking to the dead. This is the message. You boys ever exhume a body?”

Sam and Dean just gave each other a look and went back to the car to grab the shovels. Then they got to work digging. As soon as they made it down to the coffin they opened it to reveal a skeleton wearing a suit. “Hey, was, uh, Larry a World War I vet?” Dean asked.

“No,” Henry answered.

“Well, then, who's the stiff?”

“No idea.”

Sam knelt down to take a look at a metal tag on the body. “Captain Thomas J. Carey III. That mean anything to you?” Henry just shook his head.

Dean sighed. “Well, somebody wanted you to see this, so maybe that somebody is Larry.”

Sam looked to his brother. “So, what, maybe he, uh, survives the attack and hides out with this guy's identity?”

Henry nodded. “Okay. What are we waiting for, then? Cover this up. Let's be on our way.”

They grabbed hotel rooms and sat in one of them to do some research. Henry was on the couch whistling a tune. Dean looked over to him. “What is that? I know that tune.”

“As Time Goes By,” Henry answered. “I hope so. It's from Casablanca."

Sam nodded. “Right. Dad used to whistle it from time to time.”

Henry got a small smile on his face. “Your father saw ‘Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy’ at the drive in one night. It scared the beeswax out of him. So I got him this little music box that played that song to help him sleep at night. It worked like a charm.”

Sam shook his head. “Wow, it's hard to believe Dad was ever scared of anything.”

Dean cleared his throat to turn attention to him. “Hey, uh, according to county records, Tom Carey lives in Lebanon, Kansas, and is a very happy 127 year old. I say we get some shut eye, head over first thing in the morning.”

Sam held up a hand. “Wait. Listen to this. According to Dad's journal, he once tortured a demon that said he made his bones working for Abaddon, who, it turns out, is a Knight of Hell.”

“What does that even mean?” Dean asked.

“Knights of Hell are hand picked by Lucifer himself,” Henry explained. “They are of the first fallen, first born demons.”

Sam nodded. “So very pure, very strong.”

“Legend has it that Archangels had killed all of them, which, as we have witnessed, is not the case.”

Astiratu sighed. “Angels, they take credit for everything, don’t they?” he sounded a little bitter.

Henry turned to him. “Just how powerful are you anyway?”

“Well, see, this apocalypse happened and I made Lucifer my bitch. Take what you will from that.”

“I see,” Henry looked a little uneasy at that. Then he turned to Sam and pointed the journal in his hand. “You say that belonged to your father?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded.

“May I?”

Sam handed it over. “It's a hunter's journal. I assume Men of Letters, you use journals, too?”

“I intended to. I sent away for one the day before my initiation.” He looked inside the cover and found the initials H.W. stamped inside the leather. “As a matter of fact, judging by my initials here, this one, I believe.”

“That was yours?” Dean looked surprised.

“It must have arrived after... I'm beginning to gather I don't make it back from this time, do I?”

Sam shrugged. “We don't know for sure. All we do know is that Dad never saw you again.”

“What did he think happened to me?”

“He thought you ran out on him,” Dean answered.

Henry looked upset. “John was a legacy. I was supposed to teach him the ways of the Letters.”

“Well, he learned things a little differently,” Dean said.

“How?” Henry asked.

“The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood, a stinking war... only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon, and later killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad,” Dean pretty much glared at his grandfather.

Henry lowered his eyes a bit. “I'm sorry. I wish I had been there for him.”

“Yeah, it's a little late for that now, don't you think?”

“It's the price we pay for upholding great responsibility. We know that.”

“Your responsibility was to your family, not some glorified book club!” Dean shouted angrily.

“I was a legacy. I had no choice.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

Sam put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “You know what, why don’t we just go to our room and get a little shut eye,” he suggested.

“Why do you separate yourselves at night?” Henry asked.

“Because as Dean mentioned earlier, Liam, and the thing inside Liam that’s being a dick right now, well, he and Dean have a thing. They like to have their privacy.”

Henry made a face and shook his head. “You wanna make something of it?” Dean challenged him.

“Let’s just go,” Sam ushered Henry out of the room quickly.

Astiratu turned to Dean and reached to lightly run his fingers through his lover’s hair. “I know things like this are tough on you. I’m sorry.”

Dean sighed. “Can I just have my man back for the night?”

Astiratu frowned. “I’m afraid at this point it would do more harm than good. Am I not enough as is? Do you only care for my much softer human self?”

Dean lowered himself onto the bed. “So not in the mood for a debate. I still care for you as you are. As much as you really can be a douchebag, you have your endearing qualities. I’m even starting to get used to those red eyes of yours. But yeah, I’m more familiar with your human self, and find him much more comforting.”

Astiratu shed his clothes and climbed into the bed. “I can still try,” he said as he lightly brushed a finger up Dean’s arm.

A few hours later when both were asleep they woke to pounding on the door. With a groan Dean got up to answer, finding Sam standing outside. “What?”

“Henry, he's gone,” San answered.

“Where is he?”

“Well, no idea. He just left a note saying he was gonna fix everything.”

“Yeah, or screw it all up. Alright, come on, Babe. Let’s go.”

They dressed and headed out to the car. Dean opened the trunk to toss his bag in and sighed. “Now we know what he meant by fix everything. He broke in to the trunk, stole an angel feather. I'm guessing he's gonna whip up another one of those blood spells and Marty McFly himself back to the 1950s.”

Sam looked to his brother. “To do what? Stop Abaddon before she strikes?”

“Or grab Dad and haul ass. Look, point is he's doing it.”

“How? He still needs two ingredients for the spell. Unless... unless there's some place nearby that sells real hoodoo.”

“I'll call Garth,” Dean grabbed his phone.

Sam went back into the room to get on his laptop, coming out in only a few minutes. “Hey. It just hit the wires, one dead at Astro Comics.”

“Abaddon?” Dean guessed.

“Yeah, has to be,” Sam nodded.

“Okay, so she's close. Pain the ass and I will go find Henry. You find Larry. Figure out how to kill this chick.”

“Hey!” Astiratu’s eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, love you to bits and pieces, but you are a pain.”

They found the right store and Henry was there chanting over a cauldron. A symbol was painted on the door and it was glowing gold. “Henry, wait!” Dean shouted.

Henry turned to them. “This is a risk I have to take.”

“And what if you die, huh? Who said you'll even survive a jump?”

Henry sighed and the symbol stopped glowing. “You cannot begin to understand how I felt after reading John's journal.”

“Oh, I think I can. See, I've read that thing more times than you can imagine, and it hurts every time.”

“Maybe so, but you didn't let him down! I did! Just like you said!”

“Well, I was wrong. Shut up!” Dean grumbled at the look Astiratu was giving him.

“No! No, you were right. And I'm going to go back and give him the life he deserves, not the one he was forced to live.”

“And what if it's not meant to be?”

“Then it will be!”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because it's the right thing to do! I can save him and stop Abaddon!”

“How?”

“By going back an hour before she attacks and making preparations.”

“Silly little man,” Astiratu crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Henry looked a little annoyed. “Another derogatory comment from you? Are you actually good for anything except being sharp tongued?”

“Plenty. What you don’t seem to be grasping here is that there is a reason for everything. You cast a blood sigil, and since I doubt you specified a time, it very well could have taken you to John when he was in his hunting prime. It didn’t though. It brought you to your grandsons, and to me. Ever stop to wonder why that is?”

“No.”

“Exactly what I thought. From what I know of John, he was a fine hunter, one of the best. Even though you have a low opinion of regular hunters, you should be proud. And then his sons, your grandsons, they built on that legacy. You should be proud of them too. Hell, if your great grandsons follow the tradition I’m sure they’ll be just as good, if not better.”

“I have great grandsons?”

“Yes, Sam has two sons that are quite young at the moment and home with their mother slash step mother respectively. Not my point. I am also here. No, the Archangels did not put a hurting on the Knights of Hell. As per usual, I did the dirty work, and I liked it.” He looked down at his arm. “Now, being in a meatsuit limits me a bit, but can I use your knowledge to find and kill Abaddon? Damn straight!”

Dean’s phone rang and he answered it. “Sammy?”

“No. Much sexier. Try again.”

“Abaddon.”

“Good boy. Now listen up. I want to make a good, old fashioned horse trade. Henry and the key for your brother. Or he dies. Oh, and no Astiratu. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

“On the road to Larry's, there's a processing plant. Don't keep me waiting.”

Dean’s head fell as he hung up. “Abaddon has Sam?” Henry asked.

“She wants to trade you and the key for Sam's life.”

“If I could just go back, stop this all from happening.”

“And what if you can't? I can't take that risk, not with Sammy on the hook now.”

“I can't abandon my son, Dean! Not again! I need to do this. I'm sorry.” He turned back to the sigil and started chanting again.

“Well, I'm sorry, too,” Dean said as he turned to Astiratu. In the blink of an eye Henry went stiff and fell over unconscious. Dean shook his head. “You’ve got a lot of scary tricks up your sleeve. Help me get him into the car and we’ll come up with a plan.”

Henry woke about an hour later while they were driving down the road. “Sorry about that,” Dean said when he saw his grandfather sit up.

“No, you're not.”

Dean sighed. “Henry, you need to understand something. When my dad died, I couldn't save him, no matter how bad I wanted to. I never want that to happen to Sam... ever. If there's a chance that I can save him, I'm gonna do it. He's my brother. He and freak show over here are the only family I got.”

Astiratu tilted his head. “Why must you be so mean to me?”

Dean reached to lightly stroke his cheek. “Not being mean, just being me. Just like when Sam calls you hobbit, we mean it with love. Besides, can you honestly argue that you’re not at least a little weird and crazy?”

Astiratu slid down a little in the front seat. “The correct terms are unique and eccentric.”

They reached the meeting place just after dark. Astiratu got out of the car and disappeared. “He left us!” Henry looked worried.

“No, he didn’t,” Dean assured his grandfather as he got out of the car. “He’s following the plan. Abaddon said he couldn’t be here. She’s scared of him, as well she should be, so we had to get creative while you were taking a nap.”

He dragged Henry out of the back of the car with his hands tied behind his back. “Don't do it, Dean,” Henry pleaded.

“Too late for that now,” Dean said as he dragged Henry into a room where Abaddon was waiting with Sam.

Henry shook his head. “That's the problem with you hunters. You're all short sighted.”

“Yeah, at least we're not extinct. Abaddon! I'll send Henry here over with the box. You do the same with Sam. No tricks.” He showed her the box and put it in Henry’s coat pocket.

Abaddon smirked at them. “My only interest is Henry and the key. You two are free to go.”

Dean gave Henry a little shove, but he wouldn’t move. Dean pulled out a gun and aimed at him. “You can do this standing, or you can do it crawling. Your call.”

Henry frowned but started to walk. Sam, whose hands were also bound moved forward and stopped when he got to Henry. “Henry, I'm sorry.”

“Save it,” Henry spat back.

Sam went over to Dean who cut his hands free. “Don't do this, Dean. This is a bad idea.”

“Give me a little credit,” Dean gave his brother a look.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Abaddon suddenly looked a little nervous.

Dean gave a little chuckle. “You know how you said not to bring Astiratu? I kinda did.”

“What!” she shrieked. “That’s impossible! You’re lying. I don’t sense him anywhere.”

Suddenly she went flying across the room and was impaled on a gear shift sticking out of a piece of machinery. Astiratu appeared with an evil smirk. “Feel that?” She tried to smoke out, but was forced back in. “Uh, uh, uh,” Astiratu wagged his finger in a reprimanding way. “You know what I really want to know right now?”

“What’s that?” the demon sneered at him as she pulled herself off the gear shift.

“When I decided to clean house, you know, really hit Lucy where it hurt, how did you escape me? I thought I got all of you.”

She smirked back. “I’ll never tell.”

The two started circling each other. “Ran away did you? Hide under a well disguised rock like some coward?” She made a little motion with her hand and the half angel tensed a bit before reciprocating and her body bent backward as she screamed. “Feeling a little limp today, are we?”

She straightened herself up after a minute. Her features were haughty, but there was unmistakable fear in her eyes. “You’re wearing flesh. How long do you think you can keep this up?”

Astiratu shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out. Maybe I can even make you talk. I’m very good at that, you know. Oh, you know what I haven’t done in a while?” He concentrated a moment and ice crystals formed at her feet and very quickly moved up and encased her.

She stood frozen only for a minute before the ice broke and she fell to the concrete floor panting heavily with a soft whimper. “The whore thinks he’s so special!”

Astiratu let out a soft little sigh. “And there’s the name calling. Instead of just giving up and dying like a good little bitch you have to pretend I care what you think of me.”

A little spark came back into her eyes. “Maybe you don’t, but I wonder what you’ll think of this.” She turned to the three men still watching and they all doubled over, blood seeping from their abdomens.

In a split second her arm twisted hard with a loud crack and she screamed again. “Yeah, okay, we’re done here.” Brilliant white flames suddenly consumed her and her shrieks echoed off the walls before she exploded and was gone.

Astiratu was trembling a little as he raced over to where Sam and Dean were on the floor curled up. He reached out with both hands and started healing them. “Why didn’t you just burn her straight off?” Dean asked weakly.

“Because...” Astiratu had to force the word out as the trembling became worse. “I’ll tell you later,” he mumbled as he collapsed face first onto the concrete and was still.

Sam and Dean were able to get up off the floor. Dean checked Liam’s body quick before they went over to where Henry lay gasping for air. “That’s some companion you’ve got,” Henry gave them a small smile. “But I guess I’m not that important to him.”

Dean looked over to the unconscious Liam. “He would’ve I’m sure, but he, he ran out of juice.”

“I'm sorry I judged you two so harshly for being hunters. I should have known better. You're also Winchesters. As long as we're alive, there's always hope. I didn't know my son as a man, but having met you two...” He used the last bit of his strength to grab their hands. “I know I would have been proud of him.” He took one last breath and his eyes closed as he died.

A little while later the brothers stood in a graveyard over a fresh grave that was marked with a wooden cross that had ‘H. Winchester’ carved into it. “How’s your man?” Sam asked.

“Still out cold and a little warm, but otherwise all right I think. I just really hope I don’t have to deal with Tarzan for a week again.”

Sam nodded. “I hope so too. And you know, I think I get it.”

“Get what?”

“What Cupid said about heaven busting ass to get Mom and Dad together. The Winchesters and the Campbells; the brains and the brawn.”

“Well, I'm glad you see it. All I see in our family tree is a whole lot of dead.” He pulled out the photograph of Henry and a young John. “Hey, I, uh... found this in Henry's wallet.”

Sam looked at it. “Dad looks happy.”

“Kind of makes you wish he knew the truth, huh? I mean, all those years thinking his old man ditched when the poor son of a bitch really came here for a noble cause. Freaking time travel, man.”

“You think it would have made a difference? If he'd had his own father around.”

“What, in how he raised us? Sammy, he did the best he could.”

“I know that. They all did. I’m doing the best I can too, even though I don’t feel like it’s enough.”

Dean placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s enough.” He pulled the little wooden box out of his jacket pocket. “What are the chances that place is still standing?”

“A chance we've got to take, I guess. I mean, we are legacies, right?” Sam gave his brother a little smile as they headed back to the car.
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Hunting Humanity VII