EPILOGUE

"And when man faces destiny, destiny ends and man comes into his own."

Dean glanced over to his sleeping passenger, hesitating before reaching out to shake Caleb awake. The drive to Griffin's had been just over an hour, his Knight practically drifted off before they had pulled out of the hotel parking lot. The pragmatic side of Dean's brain worked to convince him that Castiel had taken care of all the damage Caleb sustained during his time with Walsh and the demented Trinity, but Dean understood all too well that there were things not as easily healed as broken bones and bruises. The slamming of the back doors as Sam and Joshua exited did what Dean was reluctant to do, and his best friend startled awake with a gasped, "No".

"Hey." Dean placed a hand on Caleb's shoulder, anchoring him. They had shared enough crappy motel rooms over the years and summers at the farm that they understood each other's demons, but it was an unspoken code they discussed them only in direst of circumstance. Dean figured torture at the hands of a deranged Navy Seal warranted at least their version of a semi heart to heart. "You okay?"

Caleb cleared his throat, giving a sharp nod before he quickly turned his focus to the surroundings outside the passenger window. "There are more people here than just Porter. Bobby shouldn't be here yet."

Dean sighed at Caleb's vigilant watchdog routine. He followed his friend's line of sight, noting Griffin's twinkling Christmas lights in the liquid silver of pre dawn. The scene brought a reminder of happier holidays, and he wondered if the strands Pastor Jim used to string around the porch at the farm were still boxed in the attic. They could all use some new memories. Caleb must have taken his silence as concern because he turned to Dean with a frown.

"I can't get a good read from here, but there's at least four, maybe five not counting Josh and Sam. You think Porter is sucking up with a celebratory feast for The Guardian?"

"I had Carolyn book Riley, Boy Genius and his buddy Bradley a flight in to Atlanta as soon as I found out about Walsh." Dean removed his touch when Caleb looked down at the hand still present on his arm with a twisted smirk. It seemed The Knight and Guardian were not in agreement on what constituted a dreaded chick flick moment, in this case Caleb's whimpered filled, restless sleep that darkened their drive and drove Scholar and Advisor quickly out of the car before the engine even stopped running. "Although, I'm kind of hoping he might in his typical ass kissing way have had his lovely cook, Helena whip us up some more of those steaks with a side of eggs and pancakes this time."

Caleb frowned, rubbing his forehead. "So you're really buying into this mirror Triad shit?"

"What choice do I have, Damien?" Dean could see the spark in Caleb's gold eyes and held up a hand before The Knight's temper flared giving him an even worse headache than Dean was certain he had already. "The Triad Trap worked on them. I saw Walsh call the silver with my own eyes, felt it like some freaky echo. It's not the exact same energy as when I do it, but it's close enough that I recognize the mojo. He's a Guardian, or some bastardized version."

"You're the one and only fucking Guardian." Caleb shook his head. "That bullshit Owen was spouting during our little sessions can't be true. I don't buy it for a second. They are nothing like us."

"I think that's the whole point, Dude."

Caleb growled, slamming his head back against the seat. "How could The Order exist and we not know about it. How could no one in The Brotherhood have ever known about it?"

"I think Pastor Jim knew about them." Dean saw the explosion coming, rushed on to prevent the outburst. "It's not anything specific he said, but he mentioned a trial, a time when he had to face the dark side of himself. He said it was a challenge all Guardians must bear. If Reagan's predecessor was a fortune hunter like him, then that would explain Jim's obsession with collecting any and all objects of power during his reign as Guardian."

"And you didn't think Jim's little cryptic message warranted mentioning? How am I supposed to protect you if you keep secrets from me?"

"I thought my trial was going to Hell for forty years, Damien and we both know how much you like to talk about that whole experience." Dean kept his time in Hell to himself as much for his own sanity as the protection of those he loved. In the beginning Sam pushed for him to open up and share, but Caleb skirted the subject completely.

"Damn it, Deuce, it's not like that. You can talk to me about anything."

"That's a two way street, man. I'm not the only one good at selective sharing."

"Fuck, Dean. A few hours with a psyched out SEAL is not even in the same ballgame as what you went through with Alistair. Apples and oranges, dude."

"Pot and kettle, Damien. Torture is torture." Dean understood it wasn't the pain that worked on a man like Caleb; it was the idea of being out of control, helpless and at another's mercy, another who was enjoying your suffering. Dean knew. Torture stole pieces of your humanity, whittled you down to something primal, animalistic and that was the last thing his best friend needed on his brittle psyche.

"Can't we just chalk it up to a learning experience? I might not have been in the military, but I had Corporal John Winchester as a drill sergeant for twenty years. " Caleb forced a grin. "And if you must know, the real torture was listening to Owen go on and on about Mordred, The Order, and how Reagan Walsh was the fucking Guardian of all Guardians. There was even a musical score. Bad opera provided by that prick Jonah. I thought my fucking ears were going to bleed."

"If I'd known I'd shot that bastard, too."

Caleb laughed and the genuineness almost let Dean believe The Knight's chainmail had somehow guarded his heart from the worst. "Thanks for that by the way, though I doubt a bullet did much to bring Owen out of his psychotic state."

"I think Mac would say his is a permanent pathology." Dean took the keys out of the ignition, realizing any in roads he might have made into the conversation were quickly drawing to a close. "But it still felt damn good to do it. If not for Riley's warning, I'd put in a few more slugs for good measure."

"You believe Indy is on to something about the whole Bizzaro thing-that he's right in thinking we can't kill them?"

"It would make sense as to why typically the Guardians avoid each other; keep the existence of one another secret, why they don't risk bringing their Triads in to contact with one another."

"Walsh risked it." Caleb stared out the window again, this time scanning the sidewalk where the street lights had just flickered off with the cresting of pink and orange rays from the sun.

"For some outrageous item or pay-off the angels no doubt promised him." Dean leaned over his friend, reaching into the dash where he'd put his journal. He'd quickly jotted down some notes from Ethan's last phone call about Walsh's sealed record. The man had an impressive career, right up until the honorary discharge. There was a vague reference to a family crisis but nothing specific.

"He's a cocky sonofabitch," Caleb said. "And almost as warped as Owen. He just hides it better."

"You'll get no arguments from me." Dean closed the dash, turned to grab the keys from the ignition. He noted that Caleb was still watching the street, eyes narrowed. He felt a tiny twinge of fear. "Damien?"

"You know that scar on Owen's neck?"

Dean nodded, peering out the windshield to see what had captured his friend's attention. "The wicked Columbian necktie someone gave him."

"It was a present from Walsh."

"Damn. So much for brotherhood." Dean ran a hand over his mouth, not quite able to comprehend how twisted a man would be to do that to a teammate, let alone to someone he claimed was his best friend. "More reasons for us to find out as much as we can about the bastards and then do what it takes to keep them in obscurity."

With a frustrated sigh, Caleb finally tore his gaze from the road and faced Dean. "Maybe Raphael and his angel crew will take care of them for us."

"You really think our luck is going to hold out on that one?"

Caleb's mouth twitched. "Hell, no. Fucking Josh is right about us usually ending up as Fate's bitches."

It was Dean's turn to laugh. "Then if you're not going to cry on my shoulder, Nancy, we better go hear Riley's brilliant theory."

Caleb groaned. "And I thought nothing could make me dread going into Griffin's lair more than last time, which I swore would be the one and only time by the way."

"Suck it up, soldier." Dean was willing to let Caleb get away with not talking, but he wasn't about to let him out of his sight at least not until the gnawing feeling in his gut subsided. He opened his door and got out, waiting for his friend to do the same. "Consider it another chance to ogle Griffin's house."

"Porter could live in The Biltmore Mansion and I'd still have reservations about visiting."

"Then think of the steaks." Dean opened the gate that would allow them entrance to the walkway. He could see shadows through the shears in the large bay window despite the bulk of Griffin's Christmas tree. "Big fat juicy two hundred dollar steaks."

"It all comes down to food for you, doesn't it Deuce?" Caleb stuffed his hands into his jacket, trailing at a snail's pace despite the cold.

"Food, drink, sex...I'm a man all about the base emotions." Dean picked up his pace, the sudden promise of warmth and breakfast quickly overshadowing gloomy thoughts of The Trinity. "Something you taught me, I believe."

"Lay that load at Bobby's feet where it belongs."

"Bobby occasionally has some sage advice."

"Like?"

"Never eat anything bigger than your head."

Caleb groaned. "Please stop. I taught you to appreciate the finer things in life."

"Exactly." Dean held up his hand, counting off on his fingers as he trudged up the stairs to Griffin's door. "Pie, cold beer, hot women, not necessarily in that order."

Caleb propped his hands on his hips, looking like he did when he was addressing rookie hunters. "Please tell me you haven't let Juliet get to know the real you yet."

"The woman lives in the woods with wolves; I think she sees me as a step up, Damien." Dean frowned at his friend. "And what's up with channeling your evil step brother, Josh's attitude. You usually think I'm awesome."

"I do think you're awesome, Kiddo." Caleb patted his shoulder, not bothering to knock as he opened the door. "But I'm not a potential mate."

"Mate?" Dean was willing to play along, hoping Caleb was only being half serious. His friend had been slightly obsessed with Dean's potential prodigy since that time-travelling kid James bounced into Sam's body. The accidental introduction to Juliet had only encouraged his belief Dean was destined to father the next generation of hunters. He didn't have the heart to tell Caleb his theories about James being Sam's son, or the fact that though he liked Juliet, he doubted a serious relationship or a family life had any place in The Guardian's future. It gave The Knight something to dwell on besides the fact they were once again joining Porter's campfire.

"I should give you some pointers on the actual art of dating, not just hooking up before I head back to New York." Caleb slid out of his jacket, tossing it on the coat rack before anyone could come to greet them. "This could be the mother of our children."

"Come again?" Dean laughed, glancing around the entranceway as he heard several voices in the room just beyond.

"I mean your children." Caleb quickly corrected. "We don't want you taking her to some god-awful chain restaurant for happy hour and two for one appetizers."

"Like TGI Fridays?" Dean couldn't suppress his grin at the horrified expression on Caleb's face as they made their way into the living room. "What? I hear Margarita Mondays are to die for."

"Are you talking about Fridays?" Riley bounced from the couch where he was sitting with Bradley. "I love Margarita Mondays."

"I hope my point has been made for me, Deuce." Caleb skirted around the enthusiastic hunter, making his way to the fireplace where Sam stood.

"Are you even old enough to drink, Indy?"Dean frowned at the curly headed hunter, who since hitting a late growth spurt nearly matched his own height. Boone's son was more man than kid now, but Dean would probably always see him as the gangly eighteen year old college freshman who had helped them out with Samuel Colt's journal.

"My fake IDs say I am." Riley favored him with a mischievous grin. "But I'm more about observing and interacting with the native social scene."

"He means all the drunk sorority girls." Bradley stood extending his hand to Dean. Of the two Bradley was the more reserved, serious. Dean caught the flash of silver on the young hunter's hand, an odd mix of pride and responsibility stirring inside as he regarded the first new members of The Brotherhood he'd ushered into the fold. That had been several months before, and despite Caleb's exaggerated stories, the two were well on their way to serving the ranks well.

"I figured as much." Dean returned the firm handshake, regarding Riley with a frown. "Just make sure I don't receive a call from Kathleen. Nothing makes a Guardian reconsider the rings he's given like a midnight rant from a pissed off mother."

"Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir, she won't have reason to call." Riley lifted three fingers. "I swear."

"If you were a boy scout, Indy, why the hell did I have to spend three fucking hours teaching you to build a campfire in the woods of Minnesota last month?" Caleb growled, sounding so much like John Winchester that Dean exchanged an amused glance with his brother, whose roll of his eyes told him he was thinking the exact same thing. The former Knight, John Winchester would no doubt not have approved of Dean's choice of new recruits.

"This is a Vulcan vow of truthfulness, Caleb," Riley explained matter-of-factly. "Not the Scout's pledge."

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right. That makes perfect sense."

"Where's Porter and Josh?" Dean sniffed the air. "Setting the table, maybe?"

"They're in Griffin's library with Carolyn."

"Carolyn came?" Dean had not requested his top Geek's presence.

"That explains the fourth person," Caleb started forward, towards the hallway that would take them farther into Griffin's home. "Who else is here?"

"No one that I know of," Riley replied following after Caleb and Sam who was close behind The Knight.

Dean looked longingly at the kitchen, disappointed no aromas floated to him as they passed. "So much for breakfast," he muttered, making his way with the others.

They found Griffin in a room that rivaled some of the embellished public libraries Dean had visited. Two walls were lined with wooden shelves overflowing with books. High back caramel-colored leather chairs circled a couch of the same design. A bronze sculpture of a soldier mounted on horseback was the focal point of the space, a huge painting of General Lee and Grant took up the area above the crackling fireplace. The other wall was banked with a desk containing a large state of the art flat screen computer as well as a mini bar. Griffin was at the helm; Carolyn leaned over his shoulder pointing out something on the monitor. They all turned to Dean when he entered the room, Joshua moving determinedly to intercept him.

"It seems you forgot to mention you summoned my wife to join us on this particular quest."

"I told you Dean didn't ask me to come," Carolyn answered before Dean could deny the accusation. He arched a brow at the researcher. He distinctly recalled assuring her that sending the information she gathered over the encrypted computer system would be adequate. "This was extremelysensitive material I felt had to be delivered in person."

"That's Lee's Surrender to Grant at Appomattox." Caleb said of the oil canvas, providing a perfectly timed redirect, though Dean doubted The Knight did it on purpose. As Mac would say, Damien's sense of relational dynamics was often narrowly focused, meaning he could be self absorbed as hell. For once Dean was grateful for his best friend's obsession with all things art. He was damn sure mediating newlywed feuds was not on the Guardian agenda.

"It's by Guillaume," Griffin confirmed.

"Is it a replica?"Caleb asked.

"It is, but a good one just the same, yes?" Griffin looked to the painting before regarding them with one of his self-assured smiles. "You know there is a large contingency in The Brotherhood who believes Grant was Lincoln's Knight, and that Lieutenant Colonel Parker, the Native American officer you see standing directly behind Grant was his Triad's Scholar."

"Parker drafted the conditions of surrender that Lee signed," Sam surprised his brother by speaking up. "I don't have his journal but Parker is mentioned in Colt's journal."

"Not this again," Joshua groaned, kneading his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Is it truly necessary for our organization to insist on claiming infamous individuals in our ranks Do we not deal in the fanciful enough as it is?"

"Have you not read Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter?" Riley asked, exasperated. "They're making a movie adaptation and I for one..."

"I for one think we should stick to the current problem at hand," Joshua interrupted, sending Dean a heated glare. "So that we may all return to our busy lives at home."

"He means me." Carolyn crossed her arms over her chest, her determined gaze also finding Dean's. She raised a challenging brow and Dean shook his head slowly, he already played part-time mediator for Sam and Caleb. He was not adding marriage counselor to his resume.

"You're pregnant."

The declaration choked his response. Every eye turned to Caleb who had suddenly lost interest in the art and was now studying Joshua's wife with all the same intensity. Dean shared a look with Sam, who shook his head slightly indicating he had no idea what was happening. Dean hoped to hell his friend wasn't having some kind of breakdown.

"I beg your pardon?" Joshua sputtered.

"Carolyn's knocked up. It explains the fifth presence I was picking up on. The one I couldn't quite explain." Caleb grinned, thoroughly pleased with himself. "I thought my abilities were screwing with me again, but now I can sense it clearly. You're pregnant."

Carolyn's arms fell to her side, she let out a small strangled mewling sound that reminded Dean of the baby bunny he and Sam had rescued from Atticus when they were kids. Caleb was undaunted by the frightened doe in the headlights look. He turned to Griffin.

"I mean Sammy might not have noticed it, but you'd have picked it up the minute she walked in the room."

"And I would have kept it to myself out of a good sense of decorum." Griffin cleared his throat, tilting his head to Carolyn. "But seeing as how the cat has been let out of the bag, congratulations to the happy couple."

Dean watched Carolyn's hands go to her stomach, her bottom lip started to quiver and something worse than fear twisted in his gut. She could not start crying. He could not handle it, especially not before breakfast and his usual three cups of coffee.

"Say something!" He hissed, jabbing his Advisor in the side with a sharp elbow, before promptly turning and slapping Caleb in the back of the head. The only thing missing was a good eye gouge. "Smooth, Damien. Real smooth."

"What?" Caleb rubbed his head. "It's good news, right?"

"News Carolyn would probably like to have delivered herself." Sam punched his shoulder. "Jerk."

"It's wonderful news." Joshua seemed to come back to himself, moving a step towards his wife. "Unexpected, but wonderful just the same."

"I was going to tell you." Carolyn took a shuttering breath. "But you rushed off for the hunt when Caleb texted. I didn't want to just blurt it out and ruin the big moment."

"Too bad Damien didn't have any such restraint." Dean looked up at The Knight.

"I already knew." Joshua laid a hand over hers. "I found the test in the bathroom-that's why I was upset that you'd flown here."

"See, he already knew," Caleb defended. "Explains why he was so hot to get away from home and go on that farce of a gig."

Everyone including Carolyn sent an incredulous look in The Knight's direction. Even Riley covered his face with a hand, Bradley ducking his head at the major faux pas on the older hunter's part.

"What? It's not like he's the first guy to freak out at the prospect of fatherhood. I would have skipped Kansas and headed straight for Mexico."

Joshua glowered at his step brother. "And you claim I have a talent for saying the worst possible thing at the most inopportune times?"

"Pastor Jim would definitely call pot and kettle," Sam agreed.

"You're not helping me, Runt." Caleb hissed.

"Not trying to, Roomie." Sam shrugged. Dean not missing the amusement in his brother's dark gaze.

Carolyn sent Caleb a disappointed scowl before returning her gaze to Joshua. "I'm beginning to think you're right about Caleb and Mr. Wickham."

"Who?" Caleb demanded.

"Pride and Prejudice reference." Sam snorted. "I'm pretty sure Wickham is worse than Darcy."

"I'm pretty sure it's time we leave the happy couple alone while we sort out our other business in the kitchen." Dean decided it was time to give his best friend a break, not to mention his Advisor. He gave Caleb a shove, glancing towards Griffin. "Maybe over a celebratory breakfast for The Guardian, who did happen to find The Holy Lance and thwart a sinister plan by a Bizarro Triad?"

"I think that can be arranged." Porter patted Dean on the back as he passed. "In fact, dual occasions for celebration calls for champagne. Mimosas for everyone, except for the mother-to-be."

"You think I screwed my shot at godfather?" Caleb asked with a final glance over his shoulder to Joshua and Carolyn, who seemed oblivious to the evacuation maneuvers taking place around them. Bradley and Riley had practically trampled over each other to vacate the premises once Carolyn started sniffling, this time with presumed tears of happiness. Dean did not envy Joshua these next long months.

"Godfather?" Sam choked. "I think you'll be lucky to be invited to birthday parties and major holidays."

"I wasn't asking you, Sam," Caleb growled.

Sam wasn't thwarted. "Best case scenario: the kid cries when you come in the room and calls you crazy Uncle Caleb with all the cats behind your back."

Caleb took a swipe at the grinning Scholar who barely danced out of range. "I hate cats."

Dean laughed, tossing an arm over Caleb's shoulder to prevent Sam's bloodshed as much as console The Knight. "Don't sweat it, Damien. Worst comes to worse, you can always buy the kid's affection. Carolyn's influence be damned, no Sawyer is going to scoff at a super rich relative."

"Money can't buy me a namesake, Deuce."

"The hell you say." Dean snorted. "You give me a million dollars and I'll not only make you the godfather of my first born, but I'll name the little tyke after you, too."

Caleb stopped in the doorway of the dining room, seeming to consider the offer. "Caleb Winchester has a nice ring to it."

"I was thinking more along the lines of Thomas."

"My middle name? " Caleb shook his head. "That's not worth a million, maybe a couple of grand at best."

"Jonathan Thomas Winchester." Dean continued the joking, going with the flow of their typical banter, but the sound of the name out loud had that ever present knot in his gut tugging a different way. His smile faltered, as an unfamiliar pang of longing washed over him. Not since his run in with Lisa Braeden and her son Ben had he allowed himself to consider having a family of his own. The revelation the boy didn't belong to him, his time in Hell, and the latest battle with Lucifer, erasing any hopes he could indulge in such fantasy. He swallowed the lump that had sprung to the back of his throat, blaming the unexpected and unwanted emotion on the surprising revelation that Joshua was going to be a father. Maybe Damien wasn't the only who wanted to see the future seeded.

"JT for short," Sam's soft voice had Dean meeting his brother's gaze and he once again wondered if The Scholar was using his abilities to read his thoughts, or just knew him too well. Sam's dimples flashed. "No kid should have to live up to John Winchester."

"I'll still call him Johnny." Caleb squeezed Dean's shoulder."Or maybe Runt."

"Speaking of names a kid should never have to live with." Sam groaned. "That one should be retired forever."

"Or at least until Sammy finds a desperate woman who'll overlook how completely geeky he is and agree to bare his offspring." Dean fell back on old hat to shake off the odd melancholy. He refocused on the current moment. Bradley and Riley were already seated at Griffin's dining room table, laptops in front of them. They were engrossed in work, not bothering to look up when The Triad entered.

"Not going to happen, Dean." Sam joined him, pulling out a chair beside Bradley. "Ever."

"He's got a point, Deuce." Caleb took the seat furthest from Porter, who entered from the kitchen carrying a tray with a pot of coffee and several cups. "Not many women are that desperate."

"I meant me becoming a father, ass hat," Sam growled low in his throat.

Dean shook his head, shooting his brother a grin. "Stranger things have happened, Sammy."

"Like a Bizarro Triad showing up out of the blue to reek havoc on the universe?" Riley gazed up at Dean with a gleam in his eye. "Am I right?"

Dean shared a look with Caleb who shook his head at the kid's excitement. It was going to be a very long day. "Yeah, Indy, something just like that."

RcJ*Snsnsnsn*RcJ

Dean had been right about the day, time quickly slipping from morning to mid-day and now to late afternoon. He nursed a glass of Porter's expensive scotch, watching the last rays of sun bounce off the Impala's hood from behind Griffin's bay window. Porter was back in his study, filling Bobby in as he had finally arrived an hour before. Dean had left Sam in charge. The Scholar was in his element taking over the meeting like a classroom, with Mackland in attendance from Europe via Skype. Despite being The Guardian, Dean couldn't take listening to the postulations one more time without his head exploding.

"Maybe you should take your own warnings about consuming too much fifty year old hooch to heart, Deuce." Caleb had slipped in behind him, his stealth a sure sign Dean was tired and maybe a little drunk. The previous night without sleep, the hunt for not only The Holy Lance, but The Knight as well, was finally catching up. Riley's dark revelations were only icing on the cake. Dean didn't face his friend, taking another drink as his reply.

"Sam and I can head back to the farm with you instead of taking Porter up on his offer of the car to the airport."

"Our long weekend is over." Dean turned, shaking his head. The detour to Griffin's and the unexpected kidnapping had eaten up their time, taking the prospect of a relaxing hunt with it. "Sam needs to get back to class."

"Then I could..."

"Damien, I'm fine."

Caleb ducked his head, clenching his fists and Dean sighed, lightening his tone. "Besides, don't you need to get back to the city and start working on a way to get back into Carolyn's good graces? She still wasn't speaking to you when her and Josh left for Charlotte."

"I'll win her over before the kid pops out."

Dean snorted. "Sure you will, Mr. Sensitivity."

"With my looks and talent I don't have to be sensitive."

"I doubt Josh will let you show his pregnant wife your talents, dude."

"I meant painting," Caleb said with a touch of exasperation, which was Dean's intention all along. "I have this amazing idea for a nursery mural. Carolyn will love it."

"Let me guess?" Dean brought the drink to his mouth to hide his smile. "There are dragons-lots and lots of dragons?"

"What's wrong with dragons?" Caleb frowned. "Kids love dragons."

Dean shook his head at his best friend's predictability. He wasn't sure 'normal' kids liked fire-breathing beasts, too many having been taught they were usually the villains of a story. Caleb might be better off going with dinosaurs, but Dean wasn't about to burst his bubble. They would make sure Pastor Jim's legacy lived on. "You're right. A jade green protection dragon and a red fire dragon are exactly what the next generation needs."

"Don't you forget it." Caleb leaned against the window, pulling the curtain aside to glance outside. "You know Indy could be wrong about all this. He's basing a lot of his Trinity theory on the graphic novel he's writing."

"A graphic novel Carolyn, Bradley and some of the brightest minds in The Brotherhood helped him research." The think tank had not realized their fun project would be relevant to anything besides Bradley's dissertation and Riley's budding career as an author, but Fate had once again proven to have a cruel sense of humor where they were concerned. Dean ran his free hand through his hair, concentrating on the pulse of silver from his hunter's band. The news, although not good, hadn't been a complete surprise. After all, Walsh had tried to tell them about Morgana and Mordred. "Gives a whole new meaning to truth being stranger than fiction."

"We might not see them again." Caleb folded his arms over his chest. "This could have been your test. You met the other Guardian, defeated him without killing him."

Dean arched a brow, Caleb's confidence easily crumbling. The Knight sighed. "Or it could be just the beginning move in a long drawn out chess game that Reagan Walsh has constructed."

Dean took another drink. "Guess which one my money's on, Damien."

"Just because the pieces are on the board, doesn't mean we have to play," Caleb pointed out. "Other Triads have fulfilled their destinies with The Order's presence."

"We're not like other Triads." Dean knew their uniqueness was both a blessing and a curse. "I think Walsh is counting on that."

"We defeated the devil, how much harder can this be?"

"I don't want to find out." Dean didn't think he could survive another year like their last. He was just settling into the role of Guardian; getting the garage up and running. He wanted a chance to breathe, to explore all those possibilities Pastor Jim was always going on about. "We almost lost everything that was important to us. Nothing matters if we lose our family."

"We're not going to lose anyone." Caleb bumped his arm. "Isn't that what all your extra security detail is supposed to ensure?"

"You know about that?" Dean shouldn't have been surprised. Caleb could be self absorbed but not much escaped him when it came to his job as Knight.

"You think I'm not going to notice the new Tai Chi teacher from the park shadowing me, Deuce? He has ex-cop written all over him." Caleb snorted. "I wasn't sure if he was a stalker hot for my body or a nefarious undercover plant until I followed him one night and caught his meet up with Silas."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd have to talk to his chief of security.

"I don't rank a leggy blond like that university chick you've assigned to Sammy?"

Dean ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "You made Georgia?"

"You really think Sam can keep me in the dark about hooking up with a girl by meeting in boring libraries and obscure coffee shops? Besides, the perfect woman, especially one who looks a hell of a lot like Jessica, and is a card carrying member of MENSA, doesn't usually just drop into a guys lap out of the blue. Especially when said guy does everything he can to discourage attention of the female kind."

"You going to tell him?"

"I didn't tell Mac about his new doorman and the new manager of Esme's boutique or Josh about Drew's latest boyfriend. I don't see why I should tell Sam. Besides, hanging out with cute brainy chicks on the sly makes him happy. The runt deserves some happiness."

"I don't like you and Sam being so far away," Dean said in a way of an explanation. He didn't want Caleb to get the wrong idea, to think he didn't trust him.

"The feeling is mutual, Kiddo, but The Knight doesn't need a bodyguard. It's kind of redundant."

"Humor me." Dean held his friend's gaze. The last few days had reminded him that Knights were not invincible. According to Riley's numerous charts history proved they were in fact the most vulnerable member of a Triad. "I need to feel like I have some control, especially with this new situation."

"Okay." Caleb nodded. "If it will give you some peace of mind."

Dean wasn't sure anything would provide such a gift but he was thankful for Caleb's uncharacteristic cooperation. He raised a brow. "What do you expect in return?"

The Knight's mouth twitched. "That you spend more time getting to know Juliet and less time worrying about me and Sam."

"That doesn't sound like too bad of a compromise, as long as you keep up your entire end of the deal."

"Which is?"

"Make it to Christmas without me having to call favors in with Castiel. No more falling out of bed or antagonizing Navy SEALS."

"I think I can handle those conditions."

"There's more."

"Of course there is, because making a deal with a Winchester is almost as bad as making time with a crossroads demon."

"Score me that special gift we talked about for Sam, and the pimped out office chair like Tennison's Chief Carter had for our beloved Captain Singer." Dean held out his hand to The Knight. "No kissing required, Damien. Our typical handshake is sufficient."

"No foreplay and I'm still getting screwed." Caleb rolled his eyes but clasped Dean's forearm. "As usual I'm coughing up all the dough on the presents that will somehow be from both of us come Christmas Day."

Dean grinned, returning his best friend's grip. "While you're at it you might want to add a top of the line crib from The Triad to your list."

"You know I better get one hell of a present from you."

"My friendship is the gift that keeps on giving."

"I want something tangible this year." Caleb let him go, with a shove. "And a separate birthday present. No crappy combo gifts."

Dean rolled his eyes at the twenty year old lament. "I got it. Jesus Christ has his day, Caleb Reaves has his."

"Do you really have nothing better to do than complain about your way too close to Christmas birthday?" Sam entered the room carrying his and Caleb's duffel,his backpack and computer bag. "What happened to helping me get our crap together? Griffin said the car would be here anytime. We don't want to miss our flight."

Dean would have been lying to say the luggage and obvious signs of his brother and Caleb leaving yet again sent an icy pain through his chest. The prospect of driving back to New Haven alone was less than appealing. He covered the best way he could. "So the other happy couple is on their way?" He finished the rest of his drink in one gulp. "When might I expect news of your upcoming bundle of joy?"

"I told him we could get a puppy." Caleb offered, batting his eyes at Sam.

"A puppy I would be in charge of taking out and feeding. No, thank you." Sam dropped the bags. "There is a reason Mac never let you have a dog. You have fossilized plants in the apartment that I'm pretty sure Missouri gave you when you moved in after college."

"I've kept you two alive all these years." Caleb bent down and grabbed his duffel with a grunt. "No one seems to remember all my successful years as a manny."

"The Winchesters family will be glad to give you a reference when Carolyn and Joshua are interviewing for the position." Dean glanced at Sam. "We'll even mention that you draw a mean dragon and can make a decent hot dog/mac and cheese casserole."

"Don't do me any favors, Deuce." Caleb jerked his head towards the door, nodding to Sam. "Psychic alert tells me the car is here, Dear."

"I'll be right out." Sam tossed him his backpack. "I call shotgun."

Caleb nodded, meeting Dean's gaze once more. "Don't cut the Christmas tree until we get there. You and I can go out and forage while little Sammy strings popcorn and cranberries." He backed to the door with a lopsided grin and salacious bobbing of eyebrows. "But feel free to put out the mistletoe . Be generous with it. Maybe Juliet will feel charitable since it's the holidays."

"Goodbye, Damien." Dean waved him away, shaking his head at Sam when The Knight finally left them alone. "I thought he'd never leave."

"You wish he was staying here so you could watch him."

"No I don't. He's fine." Dean frowned at his brother, irritated at the fact Sam saw through him. "I mean, the whole weird way he was acting before can be explained by the fact he was targeted and kidnapped by The Trinity. Right?"

"We've seen his abilities act up when he was in danger." Sam nodded thoughtfully. "It's plausible they would try to alert him to what was going to happen."

It wasn't exactly the reassurance he was hoping for. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "But you'll watch him just the same and report back."

"I promise."

"Thanks, little brother." Dean forced a smile. "Good luck with finals."

"Yeah, because finals are the foremost problem I have at the moment." Sam sighed. "Maybe I should just forget about school this semester and come back home. With the Trinity around you may need me."

Dean couldn't help but to feel a rush of hope, the kind of emotion every parent probably felt when their kid called them homesick from college. He quickly forced the selfish desires to go to New York and pack Sam up to the back of his mind. As much as he wanted Sam with him, his little brother needed to be in New York. "We both know that's not the best plan."

"What if me going back to school was the stupid plan, Dean? I'm not a kid anymore. I have responsibilities and..."

"The most important of which is to yourself." Dean reached out and gripped his shoulder. "You need to do this, Sammy. You need to finish what you started all those years ago at Stanford before I dragged you back into the game."

"This has nothing to do with Stanford, Dean!"

Unfortunately, Dean knew differently. He moved his hand to Sam's neck, giving it a hard squeeze. "I know it's not what you thought it would be. That time at Stanford is gone and as much as I'd like to, I can't give it back to you. Those people have moved on. Jess is dead. I know you're pissed because you don't see things the way you used to. You know too much, have hurt too much. It's hard and it's not fair, but I also know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can do this. You'll find a way to make it work, to make it better." Dean had to believe that for his brother, for himself.

Sam's eyes glistened as he watched Dean, silent at first, then a hint of a dimple showed. "You've been practicing that speech since I left, haven't you?"

"I left out the part about following your destiny."

"Thanks, great and wise Guardian."

Dean smirked. "Living at Pastor Jim's has inspired me."

"It's not Pastor Jim's anymore, Dean. It's your place."

"It's our home." Dean removed his touch. "And I'll expect you and your nanny there as soon as finals are over-maybe the day after if you let yourself get roped into some kind of keg party."

Sam groaned. "Dean, I'm not eighteen."

"Still, you live with Caleb and he would kill to go to some Alpha Beta Kappa soirée."

"We'll be home as soon as I'm done with my last test," Sam assured. "We can celebrate at the farm, with you."

Dean was pleased with the promise, and the fact this time around Sam seemed more interested in spending time with his family than with any potential people he might meet at school, but Dean would see to it that Georgia found a way to coax his brother into joining in on some of the campus activities. "My one request is that you bring more pie."

"In lieu of presents?"

"Hell no." Dean cuffed him on the back of the head. "Like Damien, I expect real gifts."

"I'll see what I can do between passing exams and wading through Riley's manuscript."

"I have faith in The Scholar." Dean had enough for both of them.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"Are you kidding? Did you not see that stack of invoices I was going through when you and Damien showed up with the Big Foot gig? It will take me to Christmas to get through it all. I won't even have time to miss you and Damien."

"What about Walsh?"

"I definitely won't spend days pining over that bastard."

"You know what I meant." Sam shook his head at the avoidant tactic. He bent down to pick up his things when a horn blared from outside. "Jerk."

"Yeah, I know." Dean slapped him on the back with a laugh. "Bitch."

"You need to watch your back."

"I'm not worried about Walsh."

The look Sam gave him from the door told Dean just how well he'd pulled off the lie. "Call us when you get home, Dean."

Dean nodded, holding back on his desire to tell Sam to wait as the door closed between them. He instead went to the window, peeked around the blinds to watch his brother pile into the passenger seat of the car before the black Lincoln pulled slowly away from the curb with his Triad in tow. Red taillights blurred with the Christmas lights dancing around every neighboring house before disappearing into the darkness. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. The vibration of his cell had him collecting himself, pulling the phone from his pocket to stare at the screen where a new text had just arrived. It was from Caleb.

"Big Foot gets a reprieve for Christmas, but that hairy bastard doesn't ring in another New Year-first gig of the season."

Dean grinned, the tightness in his chest loosening. He typed his reply. 'Good thinking, Damien. What baby nursery doesn't need a nice fur rug?"

LMAO was followed by Short straw does the skinning, Deanna.

Dean shook his head, knowing exactly who'd come out the loser on that game of chance. He was about to put the phone away when it beeped again. The new message was from Sam. It said 'Merry Christmas, Big Brother' and had a picture attached.

Dean clicked on the link. A glowing image of a shiny black Oster Belgian Waffle Maker much like the one from their hotel in Tennison filled the screen and suddenly a few thousand miles, a couple of weeks of quiet at the farm and a Bizarro Triad plotting evil didn't seem quite so daunting. He smiled to himself, wondering how Juliet felt about breakfast in bed.

The end

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