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“I’m sorry. You want me to do what?” Dean had lost his mind. Sam was going to start digging into the lore to check if there was anything about vampires who lost their sires too soon developing some kind of disorder that led to them forgetting who they were, because it made no sense any other way. Dean telling him about a potential lead on a cure, sure, especially since Dean sounded so skeptical about it. Even knowing it would involve Sam bleeding a lot and likely needing medical attention and a long recovery period, Sam could see Dean asking Sam if he was willing to do. They were that devoted to each other. They’d both bled for each other, both before and after Dean’s ex-boyfriend had turned him with the intention of turning Sam after Dean was freed from the newborn stage.
Dean asking him to come meet with a pair of priests, though? There was something horribly wrong with his big brother.
“Look. I told you. This priest met me, noticed I didn’t attack him even though he’d clocked what I was, and I’ve been helping him train to fight vampires ever since.” Dean smirked at the look on Sam’s face. “He’s the one who has the lead on the cure for me, being brought to him by another priest. I don’t know anything about this Father Castiel, but I trust Gabe to make sure neither of us is in excessive danger. Or Father Castiel, for that matter, he has to know you die, I’m ripping out Castiel’s throat with my bare hands.”
“So say we meet this priest, he does the ritual… and you don’t make it and I’m left weak,” Sam said. “What happens then?”
“You recover, go live your life, and I go wherever vamps go when they die and you don’t have to hide the flinch every time I feed,” Dean answered quickly. Sam just stared at him. “Look, it’s a risk, okay? Also could happen that we both die, or you die and I survive and am human again to rip out the priest’s throat and kill myself. Or it could happen that we both make it through, I’m human and you’re fine and we can get back to a normal life that doesn’t involve bloodsuckers and priests. Everything we’ve wanted since Benny got taken down.”
Sam sighed. That was the problem. This was a real hope for the two of them to achieve that dream, and all he had to do was walk into a church and talk to priests. Back before all of this, he’d been the religious one of the brothers, and the one hesitation he had about joining Dean in vampirehood was his faith. Since giving it up for the plan, he’d never even thought about going back to church. He supposed it was oddly fitting, having to face up to what he assumed would be God’s wrath in order to get his brother back properly. “Fine. I’ll meet with the priests. Gotta admit, I’m curious about this guy who you’re beating up regularly.”
Castiel was not what Sam or Dean expected. He was a tactician, willing to consider unconventional approaches, but preferring to do things by the book. He had everything set out for them when Gabriel introduced them. “I assume you have questions. You should probably ask before we get started, so that if you change your mind, you’re unlikely to die.”
Sam looked over the things on the altar. The silver knife wasn’t a surprise at all – it was the most logical way to get the blood from him. A holy relic of Saint Wenceslas was only a surprise in that the church had a relic of that particular saint. A silver crucifix, a bone rosary… the wooden stake concerned him. He pointed to it. “What’s that for?”
“Insurance. If something goes wrong, and your brother decides to try to kill me, I’m not just going to stand here and let him,” Castiel said, completely deadpan. “Would you expect me to?”
“No, not really,” Sam had to admit. “Just making sure that it’s just a backup policy and not part of the plan to weaken him enough to be able to kill him for corrupting Gabriel or something.”
“Ah. Yes, I understand the concern. I have no interest in killing your brother, Sam, not unless it’s him or me. Or him or Gabriel.” Castiel opened the bag, pulling out a medical transfusion kit that had Sam raising an eyebrow. If he had that, what did he need the silver knife for? Castiel anticipated the question. “The knife is to drain enough of Dean’s vampiric blood to allow your human blood to act as a purification. The transfusion kit has silver needles, and will allow all of the blood to go from you into him, rather than some of it being wasted and you being weakened more than necessary.”
“Good.” Dean clapped a hand to Sam’s shoulder. “So how’s this work, exactly?”
“The first step is for Sam to undergo confession, to purify his soul, and then a ritual to purify his blood,” Castiel said, and Sam hoped he didn’t notice the flinch. “From my understanding, Sam, you are not currently a practicing Catholic, so I know the confession won’t be natural or easy for you. Don’t worry about it. Just be sincere and remember that a priest will listen without judgment. While I’m doing the ritual to purify the blood, Gabriel will begin draining your blood, Dean. It won’t kill you. I’ve made Gabriel practice.”
“How?” Dean snapped. “Because this ain’t exactly…”
Gabriel put a hand on his arm. “How do you think? We found a vamp, sedated him with dead man’s blood, and Castiel showed me how to make the incisions and what to watch for to know when to stop it and how to heal the wounds using the relic. That vamp, we killed once I knew what to do.”
Dean looked impressed, and Sam wasn’t far behind him. That was certainly not the answer he’d expected. “Okay, so then, you bring me back out here and set up the transfer?”
“Exactly. While the blood is transferring, I’ll be saying a prayer that Dean’s body will recognize its affinity with the human blood, turning its back on the vampiric, and for the restoration of his soul.” Castiel reached out and touched the crucifix. “The last step of the ritual, once the blood transfusion is done, is to touch both of you with this crucifix. It will act as a bridge between your souls, allowing your soul to return, Dean.”
“What if it doesn’t want to?” Dean ignored Sam’s glare. “My soul was pretty damn useless before I got turned, what if it can’t be bothered to come back?”
“That’s why we create the bridge with Sam’s.” Castiel looked between them. “If you’re any indication of your soul, it would do just about anything to remain bonded with your brother. This ritual works best with people like the two of you, where your souls are bonded this way.”
“So… what would you think are the most likely things to go wrong?” Sam asked. He could imagine a hundred.
Castiel took a minute to answer. “Either Gabriel misjudging how much of Dean’s blood to take, so that your transfusion can’t overpower the vampiric blood or he dies of the blood loss in the period where he’s losing his vampiric immunities without the overall blood volume being sufficient, or the relic’s power having been drained enough that it’s unable to heal Dean’s wounds in time. I’m not concerned about the purifications or your soul’s ability to act as a beacon.”
Sam nodded, swallowing hard as he turned to Dean. “What do you think? You willing to give this a shot?”
“Yep.” Dean pulled Sam into a hug. “Go get all confessed so you don’t have to watch Gabe cut me open.”
“Have you ever done this before, Sam?” was Father Castiel’s first question when he led Sam off to a small room.
Sam shook his head. “Isn’t it supposed to be a booth? With a window or a heavy curtain or something?” He’d always thought that was kind of cool. Sure, you’d know the priest was there, but it would be like you were talking to God and the priest was just eavesdropping so that he could deliver God’s message in a way humans could understand.
“That would be traditional, but many people find it intimidating, so most confessions happen like this, or even in an open room in quiet voices,” Castiel explained. It certainly made sense. “If you would prefer, I believe this church has a booth.”
“No, this is fine. I did this once when I was fifteen and going through some shit, and it was in the booth, and I can see where the intimidation factor comes in.” Sam cleared his throat. “So, uh… how do I start this?”
“You begin by saying ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.’” Sam repeated it. “We can dispense with the time since your last confession, as that’s already been established. The next step is to list your sins. Specificity is appreciated, but your brother is bleeding out, so time is something of a factor here.”
Sam flashed a quick smile. “Uh, okay then, so… gonna start with the big one. I never got the opportunity to go through with it, but I made a deal where I would lose my soul to become a vampire, willingly and knowingly, because I couldn’t give up my brother. I help my brother hunt – by finding people who are willing to let him drink, or by letting him drink from me. Even before he met Benny and fell in love, my brother and I weren’t exactly living up to the commandments or anything. Our dad raised us to hunt monsters and to regard that as more important than anything, and if that meant stealing or lying, or killing people… it’s what we were taught we had to do. We never deliberately killed innocent people, but there was collateral damage that we could have tried harder to avoid, and some people are no better than the actual monsters. Worse than some. Like Benny.”
“Dad justified this as a way of honoring our mother, but I sure didn’t honor my father very much, throughout being a teenager and into college. I walked out on my dad, even when he told me that if I did it, I shouldn’t ever come back. Um…” Specific but keep this quick. What else needed to be mentioned? He’d gone through most of the commandments, so… deadly sins? “I’m angry. All the time. I don’t know why, half the time. I can be proud, and stubborn about my way or the highway.” He paused again. “I suppose depending on how literally you take the ‘gods’ in ‘no other gods before me’… even now, I’m here at confession not because of God, but for my brother.” He paused again. “Is that… is that good enough? Because, like you said, brother bleeding out and we still have the second ritual.”
Castiel smiled again. “I think we can move ahead. The next step is to express repentance. Traditionally, the words are ‘for this, and all my sins, I am sorry.’” Once again, Sam repeated the phrase. “In loving your brother, you do not sin. Your actions are understandable, given your circumstances. I encourage you to find a better path for your future, but the Church does, in fact, recognize the necessity of the warriors who stand between the innocent and those who would prey on them.” Castiel cleared his throat. “As your penance, there are two parts. The first is to willingly give of your own life, blood and soul, to save your brother from the curse he is under. The second is to speak to me again when this rite is finished, should all go well and you survive it, to learn more about the sanctified warriors who work for the Church. I believe that you would be a good candidate.”
“Am I required to join for my penance?” Sam asked. It’s not that he minded the idea; hunting was something he was good at, but only with his brother beside him, and he could not imagine Dean willingly joining up with a Church-based organization.
Castiel shook his head. “No. I require you to listen to the information and to keep it in your heart, but that kind of calling can no more be forced than someone joining the priesthood. Which, for the record, the warriors are not considered priests. The only vows required are to protect the innocent and stand firm against the foes of the Lord.”
The next step was a blood purification ritual, which didn’t require much from Sam. He just had to remain in his seat while Castiel recited in Latin and waved a crucifix over him. Castiel’s look of concentration turned to a frown, and then he tilted his head in confusion. “Sam, do you know of any reason why your blood would have demonic traces in it?”
“Huh?” Sam shuddered instinctively, trying to think back over his life. Sure, he’d run into a demon or two, and there was that time when he was sixteen and had blacked out only to be accused of assault that his uncle Bobby Singer had said was probably the work of a demon possessing him, but a few hours probably wouldn’t have left noticeable traces in his blood, would it? “I might have been possessed once, but the demon left of its own accord, if there was one. We’re not sure what happened.”
Castiel shook his head. “Even if it was a demon, that wouldn’t explain this.” He retrieved a box of salt, using it to draw a circle around Sam, and then a silver crucifix. “This is deep within your blood. It’s likely been there since you were an infant. You truly had no idea?”
Sam swallowed hard, eyes wide. “I remember some cryptic remarks from my dad about me being bad to the bone, telling my brother to stay close to me because if he couldn’t save me, he’d have to kill me. Thing is I swear the man was more allergic to explanations than he was to the peanuts he ate that the coroner said killed him. If he knew something, he never bothered to tell me, and Dean probably doesn’t know either.” Speaking of Dean, his brother was bleeding out in the other room. “Will this ritual still work?”
“It will.” Castiel held up the silver crucifix. “I just need a bit more power. Also, it may become rather uncomfortable. Do not leave the salt circle, no matter what.” He restarted the Latin, and Sam could soon feel what he meant. It felt like his blood was boiling, like he needed to start running and find some water, or ice, or at least a cool breeze. He bit his lip, tucking his feet behind the legs of the chair to make it harder to run. When the black smoke started to rise from him, he stood up, but one sharp look from Castiel reminded him that he needed to stay where he was until this was done. Otherwise, even if it didn’t hurt him, he wouldn’t be able to save his brother.
Finally, the pain subsided, and the smoke thinned out. Sam and Castiel were both gasping for air and Sam fell back in his seat. Castiel’s nose was bleeding – sort of. Instead of normal red blood, a golden trickle made its way down his face. He reached up and wiped it away, never breaking eye contact with Sam, and Sam felt the sudden need to go back to the confessional to confess to impure thoughts about a priest.
Castiel reached out, breaking the salt circle and putting a hand to Sam’s face. “Are you all right? That was… surprisingly intense.”
“Not great, but great enough to get out there and bring my brother’s soul back,” Sam said. “And then… well. I have a ton of questions.”
Sam settled in on the altar, lying beside his brother and reaching for his hand. Dean was abnormally pale, and Sam tried not to be too concerned about the lack of signs of life given that Dean was still, technically, undead. Castiel placed the needle in Dean’s arm first, and then laid a hand on Sam’s arm. “Are you prepared? Would you like a blanket? This much blood loss, you’re likely to get very cold.”
“Get this started.” Sam looked over to his brother, biting his lip. The needle going into his arm stung, but once it was placed, Sam could barely feel it. Castiel took up the silver crucifix he’d laid out and began reciting in Latin. To distract himself, Sam did his best to follow it. Castiel was calling on God, Raphael, and all the saints and angels to recognize the power of the bond between the brothers, and to lend their aid in preparing the vessel of Dean’s body to receive his soul free of the stain of his undead sins. It became harder to follow as the blood loss started to make Sam shiver and his focus drifted.
Castiel touched his head with the silver crucifix, drawing Sam’s attention back to himself. The needle had been removed from his arm. Dean looked significantly better, and even though Sam hated seeing him shivering and trying not to show the pain he was in, he reminded himself sternly that this was a good sign. He watched in fascination as Castiel moved the crucifix from Sam’s forehead to Dean’s, and a stream of white mist trailed behind it, creating an ethereal bridge between the two. Repeating the process between Sam’s heart and Dean’s produced a similar bridge, and now Sam could feel a yearning tug from deep within himself.
"Frater tuus te domum vocat, Dean. Responde vocationem!" Castiel intoned, and Sam watched in awe as a blue-white glow appeared between the mist bridges. The glow was slowly absorbed into the bridges, and now Sam could feel an odd sort of pressure pushing back against the inner tug. Sam closed his eyes, praying for Dean’s soul to return to its proper home.
When he opened them again, it was to see Dean staring back at him, breathing shallow but steady and one hand reaching out to him. His green eyes looked normal, with none of the hollowness they’d had while he was a vampire. Sam stretched out his own hand and caught Dean’s. “Hey, big brother. You back?”
“I’m back.” Dean gave his hand a weak squeeze. “I’m me again. Would kill for a slice of pie or a beer, but that’s probably not the best thing right now…”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Both of you need to drink something, and Dean, you know I’ve got no problem with alcohol, but not when you’re suffering from the blood loss you’ve currently got. Here.” He handed them each a bottle of milk. “Once you’ve finished that, we’ll get you somewhere to sleep for a bit. You’re both pretty weak right now.”
Sam forced down the milk, grinning at the look on Dean’s face as he took in proper nutrition instead of blood. “You know, this would be a good time for you to develop a healthier relationship with food, since you’re going to need to ease back into it anyway.”
“You’re not taking away my burgers, Sammy.” Dean stuck his tongue out. “So. What’s the downside here? Hidden strings?”
“Sam owes me a conversation, and I’d like you to join it but it’s not required for you,” Castiel said. “Once you’ve rested enough that your heads are clear.”
Although both Sam and Dean tried to convince Castiel that they were good to talk, Castiel refused, insisting on putting Sam and Dean to bed with instructions not to leave until they had slept at least four hours. One minute, Dean was protesting loudly that four hours was way too much; the next, the clock read twelve hours later and the only reason Sam was awake was that the thirst and need to pee had gotten through the sleep.
First problem to solve: find his brother. Dean was still asleep, but he looked so much better and when Sam put a hand to his forehead, he was warm. Sam swallowed the emotion that flooded and headed off for the bathroom. Then it was finding something to eat and drink.
By the time he’d finished, Dean was awake and looking for him. “Sammy.”
Sam got to his feet and pulled Dean into a hug, holding on tight. “We made it. We’re back. You and me against the world.”
“As it should be,” Dean answered. “Talked to the priest yet?”
“Nope. Haven’t seen him yet.” Sam pulled back, staring at his brother. “I’ve got questions, obviously, but he gave you back to me. My brother, human, alive, and here. It’s gonna take some massive problems for me not to take the offer.”
“Yeah, I figured, which as long as they’ll take me too, I got no problem with. We know too much about what’s out there to walk away, but doing this alone? What are we supposed to do, hustle pool and steal from grocery stores to survive?” Sam snorted. Yeah, that sounded logical. “Let’s go find him.”
“Before you eat that?” Sam pointed to the hamburger Gabriel was bringing out. Dean immediately took a seat, eyes gleaming.
“The sanctified warriors are a modern version of medieval knights,” Castiel started. “Clearly, we don’t expect you to ride horses while wearing chainmail or plate armor, but the ideals are based on the ideals of chivalry. Protect the innocent, vanquish the foes of good, be the line between people trying to live their lives and the creatures of darkness who would take that from them.”
“Do we get cool swords?” Dean asked, eyes lighting up.
Castiel tilted his head, eyes narrowing in a squint. “Would you not prefer a gun? Most creatures, it’s more useful and requires less training.”
“Already got three,” Dean scoffed. “But a sword… plenty of things out there that decapitation works better than a bullet. You know. Like me before.”
“I won’t promise to provide every weapon you could possibly imagine you will need, but yes, a sword is reasonable,” Castiel promised. “You will be assigned a handler – me – with whom you are expected to keep in contact so that I can pass along information I get from my sources or help you gather information about situations you may come across on your own.”
“And we’re not, like, becoming priests or monks or anything, right?” Dean asked. “Because I just got my humanity back, and I kinda wanna enjoy it.”
Castiel nodded solemnly. “As I told Sam, the only vows are to protect the innocent and stand firm against the foes of the Lord. You’re not even required to become Catholic. While you are encouraged to be responsible about your behavior, I can assure you, we have far more important things to be concerned about than whether you indulge in various pleasures of the flesh.”
“Great. Sign us up.” Dean held out a hand like he was expecting a contract.
Sam pushed it down. “Hang on there, dude. What happens to us if one of us gets hurt or sees something that means we can’t keep doing this?”
Castiel nodded. “A reasonable concern, but we take care of our warriors from the moment you sign up to when you die, or choose to leave, or break your vows. If you can no longer fulfill your duties in the field, we can try to work with you in a research or information gathering capacity, or make sure you have the care you need while you figure out what you can do, or provide for you in retirement.”
“And the thing we learned about my blood…” Sam started, trailing off when he realized he hadn’t gotten to telling Dean about that yet as Dean shot him a confused and slightly offended glare. “Um. Is that. That’s not a problem?”
“No. Especially now that your blood has been purified, as evidenced by your brother’s humanity.” Castiel looked to Dean. “Do you know why your brother’s blood had demonic traces in it?”
Dean groaned. “When Dad was dying, he gave me a journal. I’d always been curious, but he never let us read it before. It had a bunch of stuff about Sammy. Said a demon bled into him when he was six months old, the night our mom died. Figured it would never matter, at the time I didn’t even believe in demons, so I stopped reading after that and gave the journal to our uncle Bobby. Guess I should call him and ask for more information?”
“It’s up to you, but it’s unlikely to matter now.” Castiel cleared his throat. “Any further questions?”
Dean shook his head, and after a bit of hesitation, so did Sam. It really did sound like this was a good way forward for them, and it’s not like he would ever be able to explain his one remaining hesitation to Dean. The explanation itself was simple. Living with the teasing about his crap taste in men was not. Castiel handed them both the contracts, and while Sam took the time to read it over carefully, once Dean signed there was no way he wouldn’t.