The (Other) Nephilim

Chapter Thirty

Episode 20: Moriah

When I flew back to my room in the bunker, the first thing that tipped me off was the smell of smoke. The second was the lack of Led Zeppelin blaring from wherever Dean was; be it his room, the kitchen, even the bathroom. I started to panic. I didn't even realize I'd dropped the bag of groceries and the fast food meal I'd gotten for myself until I returned to my room later. It felt like I was running through Jell-O as I sprinted towards the source of the smoke.

No no no no. Fuck! First Shannon, then Mary, now Dean and Sam? No. I ran with a new resolve.

The smoke was pouring out of the storage room, along with angry voices, and I skidded -- probably looking like a cartoon character, now that I think about it -- into the doorway, where I found Cas, about to bump into me as he was storming off, Dean, Sam, and a busted iron box that was suspiciously coffin-shaped.

Sam and Dean stopped their arguing to look at me, and Cas simply brushed past. I threw my arms out, slightly out of breath -- hey, I haven't done any sports since second grade soccer and the bunker is a maze. I blurted, "What the hell happened when I was in town?"

"Lucas," Sam started, but I wouldn't let him continue.

"First thing I get when I come home is a hallway full of smoke," I announced, marching toward them and counting off on my fingers. "Then I come rushing in here, thinking you're all dying, only to find everyone pissed off for some reason! And what the hell is that," I finish, pointing at the coffin.

"Listen, Lucas," Sam took slow, deliberate steps closer to me. "I don't like this any more than you do. But you have to believe me, we — we had to do this."

"Do what?" I hissed. I did not like where this was heading.

"Luke," Dean snapped, meeting my eyes. He wore the most serious and impatient expression I had ever seen. "Lucas, go wait outside, I'll explain this later."

"Dean, what's goin—"

"I said go."

I nearly stumbled back in shock. Even though I knew that the Winchesters and Cas and I weren't that close, I had, for some reason, thought that Dean kind of liked me. While I certainly wouldn't have gone so far as to say he was a pushover, even Sam seemed surprised with the way he snapped at me. Then again, that could have just been his initial shock with whatever had happened with the coffin.

Dean pointed out into the hall. "Now, Lucas!"

Not wanting to see him more angry, which he definitely would be if I didn't listen, I dragged my feet in a shuffle out of the room. With a sigh, I slumped down next to the door and listened to the Winchester's conversation.

"All right," Dean huffed. "So, I guess we got to find Jack."

Jack? I frowned. What's Jack got to do with any of this?

"Yeah. Then what?"

"I don't know. Maybe we call Rowena, see if she can put together one of those, um, 'soul bombs.'"

I could practically hear the gears turning in Sam's head. "The... thing you were gonna use against the Darkness?"

"Yeah, it might actually put a dent in the kid."

Oh my god. I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep myself from shouting. Holy shit. Jack did this. Jack blew up that coffin. Is that why they were fighting? Was it expensive or something? Suddenly a new thought occurred to me, even more jarring than the latter ones. Did they try to put Jack in there?

"... Okay." I felt awful for Sam. I could hear him getting choked up when he talked, but I could also tell he was trying to hold it in. I should know. I've heard myself sound like that plenty.

After a tense silence, "Sam, I know this isn't easy, okay? He — I know how much he meant to you. He meant a lot to me. He was family. But this? This is not Jack anymore. He's hurting — he's killing people! This isn't gonna be easy, but we're gonna have to do the hard thing. We're gonna have to do the ugly thing."

Sam sighed, and mumbled, "Would you be doing this if it were Lucas?"

The atmosphere was as tense as a rubber band pulled across the room. I froze. Dean didn't answer his brother, but I could take a pretty good guess at the intensity of the glare he was giving him.

Eventually, Dean forced out, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I've seen the way you look out for him. You said I've been in Jack's corner since day one? Well, you've been in his. I know you've got a soft spot for that kid, Dean. And — and he looks up to you! Wether you want to believe it or not. You take care of that kid like you took care of me when we were kids. Sure, he's — he hasn't been around as long as Jack, but that doesn't mean he's not family."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Wow. Up until Sam had told off Dean with that little speech, I hadn't realized they saw me that way. I realized that Sam was right. About all of it. I do look up to Dean. Sure, like Sam said, I hadn't known anybody here for very long, but they were like family to me. I fit in here. With all of them. Thanks to Sam, I realized something that still fills me with pride to this day. I am a Winchester.

—-

Mirror Universe. This company builds facial recognition software and has contracts with nearly every law enforcement firm in the world. And Sam and Dean needed it's help to find Jack.

The ride to Mirror was a tense, silent ride. Dean said nothing. Sam said nothing. I said nothing. Granted, I did sleep almost the entire nine-hour drive, but still, it was quiet. Despite me begging to help, Sam andDean insisted that I stay in the car to "keep an eye out in case anything happens". When I pointed out that if anything were to happen, it would probably be inside, they waved it off and went on inside. So I sunk down in my seat and drummed my fingers on the door.

Twenty minutes in, I was bored out of my mind. At this point, I had unbuckled my seatbelt and was now sitting upside down, with my back on the seat, by legs leaning on the backrest, and my head hanging over the ledge. From this new perspective, I caught sight of a blue cover peeking out from underneath the front seat. Frowning, I fished the corner out, which was followed by a worn Hardy Boys book. It was number eighteen, Twisted Claw. Uniquely, it had what looked to be a bullet hole going through the top corner of the book, right about where you would expect to see the page numbers.

I chuckled aloud, "Never thought Dean would be the type to stash books in his Baby."

Before I could flip it open to the first page, there was a tap at the window. I looked up — still sitting upside down — with a frown as my trench coat-wearing angel friend opened the car door.

"Cas!" I gasped and floundered out of onto the pavement to beam up at him. "What're you doing here? I didn't really think you'd show up again after I heard you and Dean fighting."

"Yes, well," he sighed, looking behind him at a man who I hadn't noticed. "I may have figured something out to help us."

"Oh," I nodded. "Got it." I stepped to the new man and held out my hand for him to shake. "Hey, I'm Lucas."

The guy looked pleasantly surprised as he shook my hand. "Chuck."

I smiled, "Oh, that's cool! Cas, didn't you say my grandpa's name was Chuck?"

Chuck shrugged and raised his hand. "Guilty."

My jaw went slack. "You're my grandpa?" He nodded. "Well, jeez, you age really well."

Chuck, who was now apparently my grandfather, let out a laugh and slung an arm over my shoulder, and chuckled to Cas, "Man, I like this kid, Castiel! We should have more angels like him, not a bunch of suck-ups like those guys hanging around now."

"Uhh, thanks?" I hesitantly smiled.

"Sure, kid. So," Chuck clapped his hands together with a gleam in his eye. "Let's get to it."