A/N: Supernatural bits take place after season 11 finale, so spoilers!, but ignoring Mary's presence until season 12 airs. Mercy Thompson bits take place after Night Broken.
A/N 2: Minor references to other fanfics I've written, mostly for ease of plot points. IE: Sam and Dean's criminal records have been erased by Chuck as a thank you (Asking Questions, a Closer crossover). Dean received a boatload of compatible parts to repair the Impala as a bribe or a buttering up (An Offer of Services, a Blacklist crossover). I'd love it if you bothered to read either of these, but you don't have to in order to keep up with this one.
A/N 3: Some suspension of continuity this time. Knowledge of the Fae and Wolves and the existence of CNTRP agency is fairly new, but it's existence is classified from the general public. That's the only way I could think of to mesh both worlds.
That is What We Do, Every Time.
Pastor Oscar Ruiz looked over lawn outside of his church with a smile. Alma chatted happily with the ladies from the congregation and the guests of the picnic, helping make the two groups happy and comfortable with each other. His wife had an amazing talent for relaxing people. Every year that the church family put on this outreach, a few more people from the community joined them. This 'let your hair down' approach (as Alma liked to call it) did wonders.
Two years ago, after a terrible night of coming face to face with a demon and monsters, Oscar nearly abandoned Kennewick. It had changed him, shaken him, to see such evil so close. Shaken him more than he cared to admit. Dean had warned him that there was a drastic difference between believing and knowing, but didn't stay around long enough to ease the pastor into the changes or teach him the tricks for dealing. In the end, after much prayer and soul-searching (and a good talking to from his wife) he made the decision to stay in the area.
Soon after that same night, Adam Hauptman began to do some soul-searching of his own. Being saved from demons and hell had rekindled some of his own long buried faith in a Higher Power. Faith he thought he had lost years ago creaked out of hiding. Faith that he had buried in mud and blood in the war in Vietnam. Between the love and support of a certain coyote and the frank discussion with a trained pastor, something had begun to change in Adam as well. It was slow going. Decades of distrust and disbelief in God weren't something thrown away overnight. But he felt lighter than he had in years.
Now, the two men stood beside each other and watched as Wolves mingled with the Flock. And wasn't that a sign of the power of God, they didn't know what was.
Adam's ears heard the rumble of a big car engine pull up, idle, then turn off. He didn't think much of it. It was a community event parking lot, after all. The breeze brought him the scent of two humans, neither of whom he recognized, so he dismissed it as nonthreatening.
Not until Pastor Oscar turned to greet the new comers and gasp did the Alpha turn.
Dean held a finger to his lips, motioning the two not to say anything. His companion, a slightly younger and slightly taller man, stopped by Adam when Dean motioned him back.
Moving with astonishing grace and stealth for such a heavy bodied man, Dean snuck up behind Mercy and covered her eyes from behind. "Guess who?" he demanded, deepening his voice out of his normal range.
Mercy whirled in surprise and almost nailed him in the face with a shisei kai kan elbow.
Laughing, Dean dodged the blow and swerved back to give her some room to recognize him.
"Dean Winchester!" Mercy cried, a huge smile on her face. "What are you doing here?"
"Alma made pie," he told her with a completely serious face. "Where else am I going to get some of Alma's pie?"
Pastor Ruiz let loose a belly laugh. "Yes, the perfect bait for a Dean trap, Alma's pie. You should warn us you are coming so she can make enough for you and the rest of our community."
Mercy stepped back to take in her former employee. He had the same style clothes, the same hair cut. Two years didn't age the face much, except to further crease the fine lines around his eyes. The biggest change was the eyes, not the color, but the soul behind them.
Elizaveta once said that behind his eyes was a mess of rage and open wounds and violence. There was still the potential for violence, living with Wolves helped her recognize the violence in someone's nature. But now it was less at the forefront, still dominate and dangerous but now more easily controlled. The wounds had begun to heal and the simmering rage had cooled. He seemed lighter, now.
It was almost as if a Wolf had been Changed back into a man, the difference was so great.
"I didn't know if we'd wrap up the case in time to make it out here," Dean admitted to Oscar. "I try not to make promises I can't keep."
"Well, we're glad you came!" Oscar clapped the younger man on the back. "If you're staying long, you should come by for dinner and dessert."
"You smell different," Mercy blurted, her nose finally catching up with her mouth. That must have been how he managed to sneak up on her; how she didn't scent him coming. Because of that soap of his, he always smelled a little off. But a little off was his scent, she could pick it out of a crowd if she had to.
Dean shrugged. "I'm not hiding. Went back to axe endurance body wash."
Mercy breathed deep, taking in his real smell: sweat and leather, gun oil and engine oil. And human male underneath all of it. "What about the creepy ungrateful ass you were avoiding?"
A predator's smile split the handsome face. "I'm not hiding," he repeated.
Behind them, the taller young man quirked his eyebrows. "This is where you disappeared to? Washington state?"
"Sammy." Dean waved the man over. "This is Mercy, her husband Adam, and Oscar, pastor of the church here. Everyone, this is my brother Sam." Dean gestured around to everyone. "And yeah, Washington. Mercy owns a mechanic's shop, I spent most of the time working for her fixing cars."
Oscar laughed. "Yes, I suppose you spent most of your time fixing cars!"
The Hauptmans chuckled like the pastor just told a great joke.
"What am I missing here?" Sam asked, glancing between everybody.
Adam threw a surprised glance at Dean. "You didn't tell him?"
Dean shrugged. "It didn't come up."
"What didn't come up?" Sam demanded, becoming worried.
"Um," Dean shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the right words. He'd known as soon as he suggested this little detour to town and to Alma's pie that he would have to tell his brother something. "Well, for starters, Mercy here used to have a demon problem. She exorcised it the first time around. But the second time, it kidnapped her and most of her friends while I was here, including Oscar. Kinda pissed me off, y'know?"
Not reassured, Sam asked, "Pissed you off?"
"Yep," Mercy agreed. "My half-brother got away and told him where we were. Then your brother walks through a coven of witches, Wolves, vampires and fae to kill the demon off for good."
"He saved us all," Adam added.
"He does that." Sam smiled at his brother.
"Then for an encore, the demon's partner dragged the three of us to hell." Mercy gestured between herself, her husband, and her former employee.
"What?!" Sam cried, grabbing his brother's arm. "You went back to hell?"
"Sammy, it was fine." Dean gently pulled free. "Black-eyed bitch didn't know who I was and I ganked her ass, too."
"It's not fine! You were in hell! Again!" Sam snarled.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Drama Queen." He shook his head. "It was different this time. No chains, no torture. Just lots of ducking and running. We slipped out the back door to Purgatory and then the escape hatch to earth. It took all of a week. No big deal."
Mercy and Adam exchanged a Look. 'No big deal'? Both of them still had nightmares about those months. Sure, neither of them were tortured, but still... It was Hell. Neither of them could even pretend to be so blasé about a return trip. Yet, as Bran said, this was a Winchester.
Though, now that she thought about it, hell was almost good for him. Dean was a man who needed a purpose, a goal. Being able to focus his energies on keeping them alive and getting out did wonders for him. Like a lot of Alphas she knew, he needed to be needed.
"You sure?" Sam looked to his brother, eyes demanding an honest answer.
Dean groaned. "Alright, I got a little twitchy from being back in Alastair's old workshop. Okay? Had a few nightmare's after, but nightmares are nothing new. I didn't crawl into a bottle and afterwards, I came home. So, yeah, I'm fine. Bitch."
"Jerk," Sam's reply was instantaneous.
Mercy got the feeling those last two words had been passed back and forth between the brothers many, many times. She could almost read the subtext underneath them: a manly version of affection and brotherly love.
"Glad we cleared that up," Dean grumbled. "Now can I have my pie?"
"Of course. After pie, why don't you and your brother come over to the house for dinner? Give us all a chance to catch up with the last two years," Adam invited. "We have and open door policy for any member of the Pack on Sundays for food and game nights. There will be plenty for two more."
"Daryl's cooking," Mercy added encouragingly. "Remember sniffing at my left overs? Those were Daryl's recipes."
"Pack?" Sam repeated, looking to his brother for explanation.
Dean ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Oh, yeah. Adam's a werewolf. The werewolf in charge around here, actually. Mercy's a shifter, a coyote."
The Hauptmans suddenly remembered that this man wasn't Dean Sharp, lonely auto mechanic who happened to know his way around the Basement. This was Sam and Dean 'Freaking' Winchester, Olympic level Hunters. In between saving the world from utter destruction and oblivion, they hunt down and kill monsters. Including Wolves and shifters of all types. And vampires, fae and witches. Probably Tibecenas as well. In short, everything Mercy called friend or family.
A cold little frission of fear ran down her spine. If Sam was half as good as what she saw from his brother... If Sam decided they were Hunters first and foremost...
"Like Garth's pack?" Sam didn't sound particularly worried about the revelation. In fact, he seemed pretty chill about it.
"More or less," Dean agreed. "Didn't catch it until the whole demon thing went down, but had plenty of time in the Basement to hash details out. They police their own. Its cherry."
Much to Mercy's relief, Sam accepted Dean's judgment.
"So, ah, thanks for the invite Adam, but maybe we can catch up without the whole Pack around," Dean suggested.
Adam stayed quiet a moment, measuring his former guide through Hell. "You aren't going to be very comfortable around my Wolves, are you?"
Dean grimaced then tried to explain. "When my dad was alive, I wouldn't have thought twice about killing any one of you. Because you exist. Even after meeting you and liking you, if I found out your were something else, I would put you down. He taught us to hate anything not human." The Hunter lay a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Sammy over here got it in his head that if it wasn't dropping bodies, then we don't need to worry about it. It took some getting used to, but I'm more or less on board with Sam these days. My closest friends lately haven't been human. But uh... small doses, okay? Avoid misunderstandings."
Understandable, really, Mercy thought. One could almost look at it as a form of racism. A reformed member of the KKK would struggle with being near an African American. Even when his head had decided he would break the cycle, the rest of him would wrestle with his upbringing.
"Meanwhile, my car needs a serious overhaul. We worked a Hunt and the guy said 'thank you' in hard to find car parts. Well, less 'thank you' and more 'I want you to trust me so I can screw you over later,' but that's not the point. The point is that there's a few computerized gadgets I don't have at home. I was thinking maybe I could borrow some tools while I was in town?"
Mercy smirked, "You think maybe I could get some free labor out of you while I have to trip over you in my garage?"