The Dream I Dreamed (A Dean Winchester Love Story)

Chapter 22: Shame (Part 4)

Chapter 22 Shame (Part 4)

Dean paced back and forth in the library of the bunker, phone pressed to his ear. "Come on, Crowley. Pick up!" he grumbled into the phone. He turned to Sam who was sitting at the table, researching Cain and Abel. "Where the hell is he? It's not like he's got a social life."

"Uh, are you actually worried?" Sam asked, glancing up from his computer.

Dean's phone went to Crowley's voicemail. "Too busy inflicting pain to answer. Leave a message."

Hope came into the room then. She didn't meet Dean's eyes, and Dean didn't look at her. Sam frowned. "Hey. So...Cain said the First Blade was tossed in the deepest ocean, right? That's the Mariana Trench. Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross."

Dean shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. He wants me to power it up and kill the ginger. He set it up."

"Okay. A-assuming he does show up with it, Crowley is only useful to us until we have the Blade."

"Yeah. So?" Dean asked.

Sam took a deep breath. "So...There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right?"

"Nothing at all." Dean's phone started ringing. He looked down at it; the caller ID read 666. "Speak of the devil." He picked it up. "Did you find the First Blade?"

"Not exactly."

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They met up with Crowley and brought him back to the bunker.

Together they followed a seemingly endless string of leads until finally they found themselves in a large empty field. Crowley claimed that his demons had been able to track Albert Magnus--the last known owner of the Blade and an ex- member of the Men of Letters--this far before the trail vanished.

"So this is where your demons tracked him to?" Hope asked. She had insisted on coming despite the Winchesters' protests.

"Exact spot." Crowley confirmed. "My boys never could find him. I'm sensing nothing, so if he's here, he's warded up to the gills."

Sam nodded. "Well, he was a genius at it, right? Sure as hell ain't gonna be found by a bunch of demons."

"Oh, like he's gonna open his heart to you lot, because you're such prizes?" Crowley sneered.

"Better--we're legacies." Dean said, nodding at Sam. "All right, if he's so bent on hiding, maybe he's watching. Give it a shot."

Sam lifted the box that had contained the key to the bunker, branded with the Men of Letters symbol. "Magnus? We're Sam and Dean Winchester, Henry Winchester's grandsons."

"And Men of Letters, ourselves." Dean added.

Sam nodded. "We know what happened back in the day. We don't necessarily agree with it. We figured...maybe you want to tell your side of the story."

Nothing happened for a moment. Suddenly, a smoky door materialized in front of them. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and then walked through it. They immediately found themselves in the hallway of a beautiful mansion.

"Which way?" Sam asked. Dean motioned to the right and they walked down the hall.

As they rounded a corner, two vampires jumped on them. They fought them off, beheading them. When the vamps were dead, a voice came over the intercom. "Bravo! Well done."

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"Sorry about all the theatricality. I just wanted to see what you two were made of." Magnus told Sam and Dean, who were seated uneasily on a couch in front of him. The man poured himself a drink.