Vengeance is Mine

Epilogue

Beta: Tidia

A/N: A hundred plus pages later, and here we are at the end. Thanks to Tidia for all her excellent editing. She made this story much better than it would have been and any lingering mistakes were all mine. Thanks for reading, and to all those who took time to comment, an extra big heaping of appreciation. Up next week is Tidia's story, tentatively titled Hard Sell the fourth in our five story arc.

RCJ

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family."-Anthony Brandt

Dean opened the door, nodding to Silas and some of his security detail as he entered the motel room. To the untrained eye they looked as casual as a group of everyday guys, chatting up the latest hockey game. That's how they had explained all the rooms to the motel clerk, old army buddies on a road trip to see a Wolverines match.

Silas suggested the extra protection would be smart with so many vampires in the area and two-thirds of The Triad compromised. Dean didn't refuse the backup. It allowed him to take care of other things, like coordinating with the Geek Squad to get the mess at Beckett's mansion cleared away before the authorities were alerted. Dean had spoken with Carolyn, then turned the phone over to Joshua giving his Advisor some privacy. Ethan, Eli and Porter stayed to help the the other hunters on the rescue mission clean-up. Riley and Bradley drove Bobby to the motel. Dean had a chance to talk with the young hunters alone after everyone was settled.

It seemed fitting the first ring he created and gave as The Guardian would be to Boone's son, the other to someone with no previous ties to hunting. They had proven themselves worthy of The Brotherhood and would help carry the next generation of hunters into the uncertain future. Dean felt the fluttering of hope as he gave them their first official hunting orders, a moment of normalcy in a chaotic time.

Mac was coming out of the adjoining room as Dean made his way to the small kitchenette. He met the doctor's gaze. "Hey. How are they?"

"I would have liked to have seen them both checked out at the hospital." Mac stretched, his back popped. "But the blood and saline ringers Castiel provided us are helping. Their vitals are stronger; shock is no longer a threat."

"Think of all the medical supplies we could have scored over the years with an angel who can pop into any hospital, unnoticed, on our side. We wouldn't have needed to rely on your prescription pad so much." Dean would have caved on the hospital if it had been necessary to save Caleb and Sam's lives. But with Mac on hand Dean wanted to keep them all together in an area he could protect. The last twenty four hours had left him feeling out of control, he didn't think he would have done well with a bunch of doctors and nurses trying to take over the situation. If the farm had been an option, he would have chosen for them to go there.

"His talents have definitely come in handy." Mac rubbed the back of his neck. "He's keeping vigil with the boys."

Dean looked towards the other room. He'd not seen his brother or Caleb since getting back to the motel. Mac had given him a run down on the injuries ranging from fractured ribs, a broken collar bone to Sam's stab wound. The blood loss and the manner in which it occurred disturbed Dean the most. "They awake yet?"

"No. I'm keeping them sedated through the night." Mac moved to the coffee pot. "Hopefully, by morning, they'll be stabilized and their blood count back up. You should get some rest yourself."

"Sam's shoulder wound?" Dean was exhausted, but too wired to sleep. "You were worried about it."

"No signs of infection. There doesn't appear to be any tendon damage, but I'd like him to drop in for an MRI later to be sure. I'll arrange for it."

Dean grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge, wishing he'd thought to have Joshua pick up something stronger. Dean could always pay a visit to Bobby's room, two doors down. "I'm sure we can fit that in our flexible schedule."

"I know there are lots of things being thrown at you boys." Mac brought his coffee to the small table taking a seat. He surprised Dean by pulling a familiar silver flask from his over shirt pocket, adding a generous dash of its content to his mug. The flagon had been the one thing of John Winchester's that Mackland had asked to keep. "It's amazing you have been able to process it all."

"Meaning we should have stayed in that psych ward with old Martin." Dean took the other chair, uncapping his beer. He had witnessed his father and Mac end many a successful hunt with Irish coffees. "Don't think it didn't cross my mind."

"That's not what I meant, but I do wish there was a way for you boys to have a break." Mac took a drink of his coffee. "Maybe with Christmas coming up?"

Dean shrugged. "Maybe."

"Of course, I wish for a lot of things." Mac turned the flask over in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the metal before setting it on the table.

"If wishes were horses." Dean lifted his drink to Mac.

Mackland smiled wanly. "Your father used to say that to me when I was on my soap box pointing out something I viewed as unfair or unjust."

"I remember some of the arguments you two had." Dean knew despite the differences Mackland was his father's best friend.

"It took me a long time to realize Johnathan and I were both were seeking the same end result, only taking different paths to get there. It drove me crazy that he refused to feel as I did about certain things."

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I don't want to fight with you, Mac."

"I don't want to argue either. I want to apologize. I shouldn't have questioned your judgment in New York." Mac ran a finger over his eyebrow. "This whole situation has not been as easy as I had imagined. In theory, it appeared simple enough."

"You held the reigns all by yourself for a long time. It's hard to step down." Dean wondered if a Guardian had ever retired. It was something he'd have to have Riley research.

"I suppose I feel a little guilty for turning it all over to you boys at a time such as this."

"You said it yourself, Mac. The Brotherhood needed our Triad." Mac wasn't making the decision for himself. He was thinking of Dean, Caleb and Sam, what was best for their futures.

"Now, I'm certain I was right. I'm proud of you, Dean." Mac gave a small grin. "I'm sure Caleb would say what happened in New York was my control freak, know it all professor complex rearing its ugly head."

"Damien would say we still need you around. Your input is important to all of us, especially me." Dean had to find his own path as The Guardian, but that didn't mean he wanted to do it alone.

"I appreciate that, Son." Mac reached across and gave Dean's wrist a brief squeeze. "If The Guardian will excuse me, I need to call my lovely wife and then check in with Bobby. I'll come back and check on my patients before turning in."

"Thanks, Mac. Tell Esme I'll have you home in time for Christmas."

Mackland pulled his Blackberry from his pocket. "I hope you realize she plans for you boys and Bobby to join us for the holidays. I haven't seen so many Christmas decorations since the year you and Sam spent Christmas in New York as boys."

Dean smiled, unsure of what his immediate future plans might hold. Celebrating anything except the fact they had once again faced a life and death crisis and lived to tell about it seemed ludicrous. "She is a woman who gets what she wants."

"That she is," Mackland agreed. Joshua came in as the doctor turned to leave. Mac squeezed his stepson's shoulder. "I think there's enough coffee for one more cup."

"Thanks." Joshua nodded to the phone. "If you're going to talk to Mother, tell her I got her email and I'll call her later."

Dean watched Mac go, tipping his chair back until he was balanced against the wall. "The Geek Squad get things squared away?"

"I believe so." Joshua stopped at the counter then joined Dean at the table. "I take it that Mac's departure means things are going well with Caleb and Sam?"

"They're going to be okay."

"You don't sound relieved." Joshua sniffed his cup of coffee suspiciously.

"I'm still brooding about letting Kate go." Dean let all four chair legs return to the ground with a huff.

"For what it's worth, from a strictly PR standpoint, I think you did the right thing." Joshua took a sip, his grimace indication of what he thought of Mac's coffee making skills. "You killed Beckett, but allowed the vampires some say in handling their own. Perhaps Lenore will take on some sort of a leadership role."

"I'm not so sure that's a great idea either. Animal-feeder or not, I would rather have taken them all out." Dean pushed the flask Mac had left in Joshua's direction. "The bastards fed off Sam and Caleb."

Joshua took the cap off the liquor, adding two quick dashes to his drink. "They're alive. That's the most important thing."

"What's done is done?" Dean ran a hand through his hair. Revenge had never gotten him very far, but it wasn't in his nature to turn the other cheek, especially where family was concerned. Mac wasn't the only one with a complex. Dean's godfather instinct was in overdrive.

"Perhaps we should refocus on other business."

"What do you have in mind?" Dean had an idea of what his Advisor wanted to discuss, but wasn't sure he had the energy or the inclination to oblige. Malachi Harris was still at large. The demon had added yet another twist to the already knotted saga by saving Dean's life.

Silas's entrance interrupted Joshua's answer. "Dean, you have a visitor."

"Who?" Dean stood, his hand going to the Colt still strapped to his side. Nothing would have been a surprise at this point.

"I don't know him, but he has a ring. His passwords are a little dated, but correct. Raul and Baker are keeping an eye on him."

Dean and Joshua exchanged looks. "Malachi."

"Way to go, Josh." Dean growled. "Think of the devil..."

Dean gestured to the room where Sam and Caleb were sleeping as he made his way around the small table. "Stay with them," he ordered Silas.

Joshua was on his heels as they exited the motel room. Silas's men had moved the unknown hunter away from the building into the shadows, out of sight of any passerby. Dean waved them off. "Give us a minute, boys."

The older of the two men nodded, moving back to the motel door. The 'Malachi' waiting for them was unfamiliar. The blond hair was a little longer, darker, and the eyes had gone from blue to hazel. The confident grin and haughty posture were easy to recognize.

The demon smiled at Joshua. "I'm glad you all made it away from the fray unharmed. It was a shame the same couldn't be said for my former body."

"Didn't take you long to pick up a new suit," Dean said.

"Nice isn't it?" Malachi lifted his arms, showing off his new body. "It's hard to believe I actually found an upgrade considering how hot I was before. The modeling industry is full of coked out wannabes. With this kid's face and abs and my talent, we could really go places."

"You can go right back to Hell and this kid can get back in rehab." Dean aimed the Colt at Harris. "Move. Around the corner of the building."

Malachi did as The Guardian asked taking them, away from other hunters on guard duty. "You're so quick to kill one of your own, especially after what I've done for you. Smart that you do it without Brotherhood members as witness. It wouldn't be good if it got out you showed no loyalty to your men or the code."

"You are not one of us," Joshua said.

"I am a former Advisor of The Triad."

"You were stripped of that title…"

"Were being the important part." Malachi lifted his left hand, his silver ring flashing.

"That piece of jewelry means nothing," Joshua insisted.

"Thanks to you, it means everything." Malachi turned to Dean. "Or should I say thanks to The Guardian."

"What the fuck?" Dean took a step forward. The ring looked the same as it had before, deceivingly similar to theirs on first glance. But in New York it only took a second for Dean to realize the disturbing difference. Maybe it was a Guardian thing, but Malachi's ring, despite all outward appearances had felt dormant. It sure the hell wasn't emitting the same sensation it was currently.

"What?" Joshua demanded.

"That can't be." Malachi's ring now hummed with the energy that bound them all through Merlin's blood. "It's working again."

"What's working again?" Joshua was confused.

"My ring." Malachi waggled his fingers. "By Dean allowing me to work the spell with him, he granted me redemption, erased my previous record."

"That's why you needed to be part of the process," Joshua said. "You tricked me!"

"I had to work with The Guardian as an Advisor to restore my ring, yes." Malachi lifted his hand. "It wasn't anything personal, although the look on your face now is quite priceless. I am once again among your ranks."

"How is that possible?" Joshua looked at Dean as if the answer was part of the mystery Dean kept to himself. "Where did he even get a ring in the first place? He would have been stripped of it."

"Samuel Colt couldn't take his ring even as the last remaining member of his Triad." Dean was still in the dark about a great many things surrounding his position, but this he understood for certain. "Only a Guardian has that power."

"Samuel stripped me of my title, cursed my ring using Triad magic I had taught him, I might add," Malachi said. "But you're right, only a Guardian can physically destroy a hunter's ring. Daniel Wilmington was not around to do the deed, and I had already met with my demise before a suitable successor was chosen."

"I'll make sure to remedy that." Dean pulled back the Colt's hammer, pissed he had fallen for such a set up. They had been so sure they were springing a trap for Malachi, but instead were caught in their own snare.

"I've done nothing to warrant such action." Malachi shrugged. "In fact, I sacrificed myself to save The Guardian's life. Your Triad owes me. The powers that be won't allow you to act upon selfish or vengeful feelings without just cause."

"You're a demon!" Joshua snapped. "That's warrant enough."

"Merlin himself was part demon. Your Knight shares the same heritage, and your Scholar isn't exactly as pure as the driven snow," Malachi countered. "Shit happens. Don't be such a prude, Josh."

"You've plotted against The Triad." Joshua pointed to Harris. "You were in league with the enemy. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't plot all of this from the beginning, knowing we would have to call upon you for help. Surely, Dean can take your ring for such heresy."

"I'm flattered you think me so cunning." Malachi lifted his hand, touching the silver on his finger. "But I wasn't the first witch Beckett approached. He came up with that ridiculous plan of taking on The Brotherhood on his own and was determined to follow through with it. I could have ignored the whisperings of my contacts within the covens, but when I learned that a vampire with nefarious intent was searching for a witch to do his bidding, to help him bring The Brotherhood to its knees, I chose to act in the Triad's best interest. I knew the only way to thwart his plan was to infiltrate. He had to trust me."

"How convenient that such information would fall into your lap," Dean said.

"Good fortune on all our parts." Malachi looked at Joshua. "Your lovely Leah was not as bold as I. She didn't even bother telling you of the rumblings until you questioned her."

"You'd have me believe Leah knew of Beckett?"

"A pretty face can hide all sorts of horrors." Malachi gestured to his new features. "True?"

"So, you want us to buy that you're the hero?" Dean stepped closer to Malachi when it looked like Joshua might lose his usual calm and reach out to strangle the demon. "You had our best interest in heart when you helped this creature kidnap Sam and Caleb?"

"If I had brought you the information about his plan beforehand would you have trusted me and acted on it?"

Dean hesitated. He would have never talked to Malachi unless he had been desperate. Just because the demon had a point, didn't mean his motives were as altruistic as he would have them believe. "Joshua's right. You saw this as an opening to worm your way back into The Brotherhood."

"I didn't say I wasn't an opportunist." Malachi brought a hand to his chest. "I saw a way to right a wrong I did in the past. I took it. Saving your life was never on the agenda, although it was icing on the cake. I mean how ironic. I lose everything because of my alleged crime of destroying a former Guardian only to offer up my own life to save you. It's only suiting that everything be restored to me. Such is the way of kismet."

"You're chalking this up to karma? You tricked me into releasing you." Dean doubted Jim Murphy had ever made such an asinine move in his entire twenty plus years as Guardian. "A magic loophole doesn't restore your honor, Harris!"

"Then give me a chance to earn it the old fashioned way," Malachi said. "You may have temporarily saved your Triad, but you still have the same issue as before. Lucifer is determined to have Sam, and don't think he will give Caleb the choice of sides. Then there is Michael. The Apocalypse. It should be obvious to you now that I know what I'm doing; I have not exaggerated my talents."

"All the more reason for us to be wary of you," Joshua said. "You can't be trusted."

"How do you plan to serve your Triad successfully if you are not trained properly?" Malachi turned his gaze on Joshua. "This isn't Jim Murphy's hodgepodge crew we're speaking of. Missouri Mosley's mediocre crafting will not suffice. This is a traditional Triad, as powerful as I have seen. Believe me when I say I like you Joshua, and I believe you have promise far beyond what anyone has given you credit for thus far, but in this case your best isn't good enough."

"I've made it this far without your grand tutelage," Joshua said.

"In six week's time you've lost The Knight and The Scholar."

"Thanks in part to you," Joshua said.

"If not for intervention on my part, they would have been murdered," Malachi pointed out. "And should I note that you've risked your Guardian and allowed me to make quite the mockery of you, and your pitiful position."

"Shut up," Dean said. "That's enough of your talking."

"Guardian, you can't possibly deny the situation you are in."

"Where are you going with all this? You've got your ring. What else are you proposing?" Dean kept the gun trained on Malachi, but relaxed his finger on the trigger.

"Dean, you can't honestly…" Joshua started.

"You said it yourself, Josh. He may be our only shot at figuring out this Triad stuff in time to do any good. Let's hear him out." Dean needed a way to win this war without saying yes to Michael, without jeopardizing his brother. He needed to be The Guardian Jim hoped he would, and save the world in the process.

"I can offer a gift of good faith," Malachi said. "Once you see it, I think you'll be convinced I'm the man for the job."

"I'm a little wary of your idea of a good gift considering the whole vampire-palooza thing."

"I'll think you'll appreciate this one, or at least your Advisor shall." Malachi slowly used one hand to lift the right flap of his coat, withdrawing a worn leather book. "May I present the journal of one of the most brilliant minds in history."

"Let me guess," Joshua said, "It's yours."

"Again, you flatter me." Malachi held the journal out to Joshua. "But alas, Samuel burned mine after I cursed the Wilmington ranch. We had quite the row after Knight and Guardian perished. Good thing I had the foresight to hide my more prized possessions. This book belonged to my grandmother. She taught me everything I know."

"What language is that?" Dean glanced over at the coffee-colored pages Joshua was thumbing through, the small, sweeping script unfamiliar.

"It's Italian, at least part of it is." Joshua continued to read, slowly shaking his head. "And not possibly real."

"It is real, my friend," Malachi assured. "It is the original Vangelo, the gospel. Now you see why I was chosen for Daniel Wilmington's Triad."

Joshua lifted his gaze from the journal. "Maddalena Talenti was your grandmother?"

"It was Maddalena Taluti, actually," Malachi brushed a hand over his coat lapel. "Scholars have mangled translations over the years."

"Who the hell is Maddalena Tuti?" Dean demanded.

"Taluti," Malachi corrected.

Joshua turned to The Guardian. "She was a Sicilian witch, purportedly Charles Leland's infamous informant."

Dean made a rolling motion. Joshua's attempt at insight didn't help him one damn bit. "And Leland is?"

"An author, folklorist," Joshua explained. "Imagine Salman Rushdie of the 1800's. He wrote a book entitled Aradia, The Gospel of the Witches."

Dean pointed at the book. "That an original copy."

"That is much more," Malachi said. "It is the ancient text my grandmother translated for Leland. It has been in our family for centuries."

"So your grandmother sold a tabloid tale of your family skeletons?" Dean was beginning to like Malachi's previous attempt at a gift more and more. At least he understood the value in ridding the world of vampires.

"My grandmother was not a traitor to her people. She gave away only what she wanted that twit Leland to know, enough to evoke interest by others and garner her safe passage so she could spread her family's teachings."

"What's he going on about?" Dean looked to Joshua. "Why the hell is it important to us?"

"Leland's text supposedly revealed the beliefs and rituals of a secretive religious tradition in Tuscany."

"Witchcraft! It's about witchcraft." Malachi sighed dramatically. "The Vangelo is our bible."

Dean looked from Harris to Joshua. "It's important?"

"Leland's manuscript is touted as one of the founding texts of modern magic, still in mass circulation today." Joshua looked from the book in his hand to Dean. "The story goes that Leland repaid the old witch's confidences by secretly bringing her and her family to America."

"Where Maddalena founded the very coven Joshua belongs to." Malachi clapped his hands. "Talk about fate. Isn't it wonderful how history comes full circle?"

"Maddalena started your coven?" Dean raised a brow. He didn't like witches, but it seemed his destiny was determined to be entwined with their kind.

"And many others. If the stories are to be believed."

"The Vangelo is proof enough." Malachi gestured to the book. "That is no sloppy translation by a novice writer. It contains the spell work and crafting of generations of witches. You understand what I'm offering. "

"Is there Triad magic in there?" Dean asked.

"All magic can be Triad magic," Malachi said. "You hold the power inside you, Guardian. It is knowledge that your Triad lacks. Knowledge I'm willing to provide. I took many spells from within those pages and made them work for Daniel Wilmington. He was not as prejudiced as you."

"If this book is what I think it is, it's invaluable." Joshua glanced at Dean. "Like Einstein's personal handwritten notes, the Wright brothers' original flight designs. It's akin to finding Merlin's journal."

Dean looked to Malachi. "Then I guess we should thank him."

"You will need me to translate." Malachi folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not stupid. I came here with bargaining insurance. That isn't a Dummies Guide to Crafting."

"Joshua knows Italian," Dean said. "He's put in his 10,000 plus hours of apprenticeship."

"He may struggle through the language, he might even decipher the codes many of the more powerful spells are written in, but he does not have the skill set to complete the assignments." Malachi gestured to Joshua. "You can give a talented child Michelangelo's sketch pad and original paint brush, but that doesn't mean he'll produce the Sistine Chapel. He needs a master's guidance."

"You think you're the one for the job?"

"I have an excellent resume-undeniable work ethic." Malachi grinned. "If not for that teeny blemish with my former Triad, it would be impeccable."

"That blemish, as you call it, cost two men their lives," Joshua said. He offered the book back to Malachi. "No gift can erase that."

"It must be grand to be so perfect." Malachi did not take the book, instead looking to Dean.

Dean lowered the Colt. He glanced at Joshua, then to Harris. "I believe we have your card."

"It needs to be updated, but I believe you do." Malachi laughed. "I promise you won't be disappointed with my work."

"You better hope so, Harris. If you don't produce what we want in the timeframe that we have, firing you will entail all the skills I have on my resume, including the ones I learned from my master apprenticeship with Alastair." Dean's icy gaze did not leave Malachi's. "Understood?"

"Perfectly, Boss." Malachi nodded to the journal, winking at Joshua. "I'll expect you to have read chapters 1 and 2 before our first meeting, J. Don't make me punish you."

"I'm in apprenticeship to a demon?" Joshua turned to Dean when the demon disappeared. "Really? What happened to not wanting to compromise my virtue?"

"I saw the look on your face when you realized what that book was." Dean moved towards the motel, keeping his voice low as the other hunters came into view. "I said yes to save you from yourself. He would have had to pry it from your fingers, and you're the one who said it was invaluable."

Joshua glanced down to the journal now cradled against his chest. "Grandmother will never believe it."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I get that this book is a big deal in your crafting heritage, but the less people who know about this, the better. You need a person you can trust, someone who knows their magic. Not family and not Leah." Dean didn't want to leave Joshua vulnerable. He, Caleb and Sam were not going to be much help in the crafting side of things, but he wasn't willing to trust the coven, ally or not.

"Adam," Joshua replied. "He's honorable and a knowledgeable witch."

Dean nodded. "He seems like the best choice."

Joshua slowed his gait. "We could be making a terrible mistake."

"Welcome to my world." Dean rolled his eyes. "Besides, you should have thought of that before you convinced me of your brilliant plan."

"I am not the one to blame for Malachi Harris," Joshua was quick to point out. "Caleb conjured him in the first place. This is inevitably all his fault."

"Nice. Blame your little brother." Dean smirked at Joshua. "You are getting the hang of this older sibling gig."

"That is one job I will leave completely up to you."

Dean shook his head. "Coward."

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

Captain One Helluva Big Brother was not a job Dean relished at the moment. He had waited for Mac to make his final round of the night, before claiming a chair in Caleb and Sam's room to stand watch. Bedside vigils sucked. He'd relieved Castiel to do whatever the angel did when he wasn't with them. Dean had stopped asking about his friend's quest to find God.

He was tired, tempted to take the pillow and extra blanket Mac had left for him to make a pallet in the floor between the two occupied beds as the first light of dawn was brightening the room. The night's events weighed heavily on his mind, his tentative truce with Malachi Harris and the vampires taking a backseat to the desire to talk with Sam and Caleb.

Watching his brother sleep was far too similar to the time after Cold Oak when Dean had kept sentry with Sam's corpse. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. Dean took a deep breath, wishing for Marla's magic fingers to relieve the knots of tension he could feel in his neck and shoulders.

"Dean?"

Sam's voice had him jerking upright, searching out his brother's face. Sam's eyes were glassy and unfocused, but open. "About time somebody relieved me on watch."

"What happened?" Sam licked his lips, lifting his head to look from the I.V. in his right hand to the straps securing his left arm to his chest. "Where…"

"Take it easy. You're safe." Dean scooted his chair closer. "We're at a motel outside Traverse City, Michigan. Mac set up a makeshift ER so we wouldn't have to deal with demanding hospital staff."

"Caleb?"

"Mac pulled out the good drugs." Dean looked over his shoulder to the other bed. Caleb's face was turned towards them in sleep; a landscape of dark reds and purples from Liam's beating. Dean wished he hadn't been forced to kill the red haired vampire so quickly. "Prince Not So Charming is going to be okay, but he's still out of it. Though I got to say, you both are sporting some spectacular hickies."

Sam rested against the pillows, his free hand moving to the bandages on his neck. "The vampires?"

"Most of them went on their merry way. The big red headed freak and Beckett are dead. I killed them myself."

"Good." Sam closed his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. When he looked at Dean again, he seemed more coherent. "I don't remember much after Kate tried to kill you."

"That's because you fainted, just like the girly bitch you are." Dean offered a half-smile.

"I was stabbed." Sam attempted a glare.

Dean was relieved to see a hint of petulance in the dark, stormy gaze. It pushed away some of his concern. If Sammy was feeling up to being his typical broody self, then he would make a quick recovery. He pointed to his brother's injured arm. "You and Damien may be sporting matching slings, but I should be the one set for an MRI after I hauled your heavy ass out of Beckett's compound in Timbuktu."

"I think you should cut us some slack." Sam shifted on the bed. "You have no idea what we went through."

Dean moved to prop pillows behind his brother, helping him to sit up. "I think I have some idea, Bro. The whole Triad in trouble alert system works really well."

Sam glanced down at his ring, his face softening with regret. "We were afraid that would happen."

"I would have gotten there sooner if I could have." Dean took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry."

"You were there when it counted," Sam said. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Maybe." Dean's head understood the facts, but his heart was a different story. Being The Guardian was only proving to make him feel more responsible, not only for Sam and Caleb, but the billions of innocents they were sworn to protect.

"We tried to make it out of there on our own." Sam picked at a thread on the navy blue sling.

"So I hear." Dean turned to look at his brother, remembering Malachi mentioning a botched escape plan when they were in Beckett's office. "Two hunters against fifty or so vampires- sounds like fair odds."

"We had some help." Sam glanced up at Dean. "You're not going to like it."

Dean watched Sam catch his bottom lip with his teeth and was reminded of the few times when his younger brother came home with notes from school- a rare unfinished assignment, a fight with the occasional schoolyard bully. "It can't be that bad. I'm all for unconventional plans."

"I used my abilities."

Something inside of Dean twisted, feeling like a steel toed boot to the gut. "Which abilities?"

To give Sam credit, he didn't blink an eye. "I used demon blood."

"Goddamnit, Sammy." Dean ran a hand over his mouth.

"I ordered him to."

Dean turned towards Caleb's bed, thankful his best friend was awake, but not pleased with the revelation. "What the fuck, Man?" It was not turning out to be the reunion he had planned.

"It was my choice," Sam said.

The determination in his brother's voice reclaimed his attention. "Where the hell did you get the jolly juice?"

Sam's fierceness faded beneath a mask of contrition as he glanced toward Caleb, who was struggling to sit up.

"Shit." Dean's stomach gave another lurch. He cradled his head in his hands.

"At the time, it seemed like the only way," Sam said, gently.

Dean laughed a harsh grating laugh that had nothing to do with humor. "Like I haven't heard that before."

"Deuce…"

"Don't." Dean raised his head to glare at his best friend. "I'm sick of apologies."

"I wasn't going to apologize." Caleb had made it to a semi-upright position, his left arm cradling his ribs.

Dean narrowed his gaze. "Good to know."

"I was doing my job. You understand that."

"I understand it alright." Dean knew all too well what duty called them to do.

"Why aren't you yelling at us?" Sam asked.

"Besides the fact you both look like you've just come out the major losers of a UFC cage match?" Dean rubbed his eyes. "Maybe I'm hoping you'll cut me some slack when you find out what I did when I was against the ropes."

"What could be worse than me drinking demon blood? I broke my promise to you."

"I broke a promise, too." Dean looked from his brother to Caleb. They had all agreed to no more dealings with the dark side, but Dean was also referring to the oath they took as The Triad. He was pretty damn sure releasing Malachi Harris from his cursed existence was a stunning folly that could hold repercussions for all of them.

"What did you do?" Caleb's voice was hoarse and full of dread. Dean had no doubt his friend would have attempted to read him if he hadn't had pain meds coursing through his system.

"I let Malachi Harris perform a Triad spell with me to find where Beckett was holding you two. In doing so, I pretty much gave him the equivalent of a Governor's pardon for all his past deeds and re-established him as a ring-bearing member of The Brotherhood. And if that isn't enough of a kick in the pants for you, I pretty much brought him on board as Josh's mentor so he can teach us how to use more Triad magic."

"What the hell were you thinking, Deuce?"

"I don't know, Damien. I guess I was thinking the same thing you were thinking when you used your dear old great, great grand pappy's necklace to release Malachi Harris from the bowels of Hell in the first place." Dean only felt slightly guilty for using Joshua's point. "I was trying to save my brothers' lives. It wasn't exactly my most rational moment."

"So now that we're safe, you just change your mind," Sam said. "Take his ring back. You can do that, right?"

"I can't take a ring without just cause." Dean was certain Malachi was not lying about that. The Guardian's power was not completely left to his discretion for good reason. "He helped me save your lives. He saved my life."

"He's a demon!" Caleb snarled.

"Do you really want to argue that case, Dude?" It was below the belt, but Dean was beyond pulling punches.

"Merlin was half demon," Sam tried for a save. "I suppose he set the standard, but that doesn't mean we have to work with Harris. It's not a good idea, Dean. If I've learned anything from my royal screw up with Ruby it's that no demon can ever be trusted."

"I don't trust Harris, Sammy. But the bastard's proven how sneaky he is. I'd rather have him in our camp where I can keep an eye on him and at the moment if you haven't noticed, he's the only lead we've got on this great, elusive power of The Triad. It's the bottom of the ninth, and we're down by at least three. We're going with my plan-that's final."

"We don't get a say, Coach?" Caleb asked.

Dean looked at him. "Sometimes we have to make hard choices in the heat of the game."

"Meaning you're pissed at me for pushing Sam to use his abilities?"

"Meaning everything is not about you, Damien! The Commander and Chief doesn't have to discuss his fucking orders with his Generals." As The Triad they functioned as a unit, but it was not a democracy, nor was it ever set up to be that way.

"Good to know, Sir." Caleb said.

"Fuck you, man."

"Guys, come on," Sam said.

Dean took a deep breath, exhaling heavily as he ran his hands through his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with Sam and Caleb. Things were spiraling and he was beginning to understand why Jim needed the church and his garden as outlets. After the apocalypse Dean would have to find some of that elusive balance Mackland was always going on about.

"Did anything else life changing happen to take place while we were out of the loop?"

Dean looked at Caleb, surprised at the white flag. Damien usually pouted longer, licking his wounds for at least a few days before coming around. Dean would have deserved it this time, but he wasn't too proud to take the peace offering. "I gave my first official ring. Two of them, actually. "

"To who?" Sam asked. Dean glanced at his brother, glad for once Sam wasn't going to insist on arguing his point. Usually Sam didn't give in until he came out the victor, or at the least everyone was banged and bloodied for his effort. Maybe they were all changing, or maybe it was the pain meds and blood loss. Sam didn't have the energy to spare. Dean didn't care. He deserved a break.

"Riley and Bradley." Dean looked between Scholar and Knight, knowing they would appreciate the irony as much as he did. He had used a bottle of Johnny Walker Red he had stashed under the front seat of the Impala. Dean was pretty sure Pastor Jim never thought to use such unholy water to call the silver.

"What was it like?"

Dean met his brother's genuinely curious gaze unsure of how to capture his feelings without sounding like a complete girl. "Like pulling a white rabbit from a magician's hat."

Sam smiled. "Cool."

It was cool. "There was bound to be some pluses to this whole Guardian gig."

"Did Indy piss his pants?"

"Nearly." Dean would never forget the look on Riley's face. It almost made up for seeing the kid ravaged by grief at Boone's funeral. "Kathleen might put a bounty on my head, but it was priceless."

"It will be good to have more men in the field. We've been spread so thin, I've had men hunting solo. "

"Especially since you'll be recouping at the farm," Dean replied, shifting on the bed.

"What? No way." Caleb tried to sit up straighter. "Dean, I'm fine. There's too much to do as it is. People are dying."

"People are always dying." Dean wasn't the only one who was in need of some balance. Mac was right about them needing a break, if only a short one. "You're out of the hunt at least through Christmas, man. Maybe New Years. Sam will be joining you. That's an order."

"You're still pissed at us," Sam accused, as if a vacation from hunting was somehow a punishment.

"He has to forgive us sometime." Caleb waited for Dean to look at him. "Or maybe he'll just take our rings."

There was the infamous pouting. "As tempting as that is, Damien, we already covered the whole vengeful Guardian clause." Dean crossed his arms over his chest, studying his Triad. "Besides, as much as I like Ethan and Elijah, Pastor Jim chose you two chuckleheads as Knight and Scholar. I really don't think I have the right to mess with his master plan. It would be really embarrassing for us to go down as the shortest running Triad in Brotherhood history."

"Ah, look Sammy, its Deuce speak for 'I just love you guys so damn much'."

"You want to translate this, smartass?" Dean flipped his best friend the bird.

"Haven't you hurt me enough, man?"

"I think your ego can take it, big guy."

"What about the bear spirit job we were on in Chicago?" Sam spoke up, sounding all of ten. "Remember Tom and Jerry?"

Dean remembered them alright. He had never been so glad to hand off a job. "I made the marauding ghost grizzlies Riley and Bradley's first official hunt."

Sam frowned. "You didn't."

"What? They were as giddy as a couple of ugly virgins on prom night."

Caleb leaned back against his pillows. "This Guardian thing has so gone to your head."

"You're the one who was always pushing for us to be The Triad, rallying for Dean to be The Guardian," Sam said. "You're a victim of your own success."

"Shut up, Runt. No one asked you."

"That's not surprising," Sam harrumphed. "No one ever asks me anything."

"Are we on that again? Really?"

Dean whistled loudly, bringing an abrupt halt to the heated argument brewing around him. "Maybe I should wake Mac so he can come play overly thorough doctor?"

Silence. He smiled. "It really is good to have you guys back."

Pastor Jim used to say that any hunt that ended with a full hearth was a successful one. Dean figured that pretty much applied to a man's life in general. Learning to be a good Triad might be difficult, becoming The Guardian Dean wanted to be might prove even harder, but the basic things he, Sam and Caleb already understood were the most important lessons Jim could have hoped to impart. Family comes first. Love allows us to forgive almost anything. Faith means believing you are deserving of forgiveness. Dean hadn't quite mastered the last one, but he was willing to keep trying.

He had been The Guardian of The Brotherhood just a few short months. In that time, he'd let his Knight and Scholar be kidnapped and tortured, butted heads with Mackland Ames, been tricked into letting a murderous witch back into their folds and pimped his Advisor to apprentice with a demon as a reward for his treachery. He'd allied his men with vampires, let an archenemy slip through his fingers, and the only damn thing he had to show for any of it was an ancient Italian text written by some old hag from Sicily. He was almost afraid to imagine what the coming years would bring if they survived the apocalypse, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping.

RCJ