I'd like to thank Tidia for being my beta. Also thanks to Ridley C. James for letting me borrow Caleb and Mac

Chapter 1

Large oaks lined the backwoods road like sentinels. The branches were covered in Spanish moss. To John they looked like macabre props in a horror movie. He'd be happier on the highway but safety could be found on less traveled roads. John glanced at his eldest. Dean pretended to be asleep. For the past two weeks Dean had withdrawn into himself. He gave his father only 'yes, sir' and 'no sir' answers. He also started to hustle pool more. Not that it was a bad thing, but it was where Dean was doing it. He'd pick some of the roughest bars in whatever town they stopped. Sometimes he wished he could just talk to his son, but he was out of practice. If he started now Dean would think he was possessed. John sighed as he turned his attention back to the road.

Dean knew his father was watching him as he continued to play possum. He didn't want to talk to his father. Hell, he never could talk to him. John Winchester expected only one thing from his eldest. Follow orders. The blond was the perfect soldier. The truth was he wanted someone else to do the thinking for him, so he didn't have to worry for Sam. His brother had left a year ago to follow his college dream. Dean sighed, opening his eyes to look out the window. The one disadvantage of the Impala was its lack of air conditioning. All the windows were open, but Louisiana was not a state to go without AC in a car. Lake Ponchitrain came into view and he was glad this drive was almost over. He propped his right forearm on the window, hissing as he forgot the stitches his father had put in last night.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine- the stitches."

John glanced at Dean to make sure he was alright. "We better clean them when we get to town," John said. "Don't want them to get infected."

"Yes, Sir."

"We'll be staying with Mackland." John knew that would get Dean's attention as his son turned to look at him. "Mac's in for a conference. Caleb decided to visit since he was between hunts and work."

Dean turned away, staring across the water. The lake always impressed Dean. It was huge. Once in the middle of the bridge you lost all sight of land. The blond didn't mind crossing this bridge. It was close to the water and completely flat. Caleb wasn't impressed by it. If it didn't soar over an empty space then the dark haired hunter wasn't interested. But Caleb did concede that the bridge was damned impressive for its length. Dean smiled. It would be good to see Caleb and Mac. Maybe he could get away with Caleb for a few days.

"I figure you and Caleb could check out this spirit I heard about while we're here."

Leave it to his father to make this a working vacation. "Sure."

John hoped for more than a one-word answer. He was worried enough about Dean's behavior to contact Mackland. The neurosurgeon suggested a vacation. Therefore John invited himself to New Orleans. Mac didn't object, saying he'd see them in three days. Once across the bridge John headed into the heart of the French Quarter.

"In the glove box there's a piece of paper with directions to the house Mackland rented."

Dean opened the compartment grabbing the nickel-plated revolver as it tumbled out. He grabbed the paper, put the gun back, and slammed the box closed. Dean stared at the paper, conceding defeat.

"Geez, Dad, you expect me to read this?"

"Give it to me."

Dean handed him the paper. While his father was stopped at a light he scanned the paper. As the light turned green he turned right. At least he could read his own cryptic writing. Dean was surprised when his father turned on Bourbon Street. The houses along this road were old and expensive. Most had wrought iron balconies overlooking the street. John stopped in front of one, checking the number.

"This is it," he said. "Go open the gate."

Dean noticed the large gate next to the house. In the olden days this would have led to the carriage house. Now it held carriages of a different sort. Dean climbed out of the Impala and over to the gate. There was an intercom on the wall and Dean hit the button.

"Who is it?"

"Hey, Mac, it's Dean."

Dean heard a buzz and pushed the gate. John drove the Impala down the alley to the back of the house. Dean closed the gate then walked towards the car. Once the growl of the engine died Dean was surprised to hear cicadas thrilling loudly in the trees. The blond walked over to the trunk, pulling out the bags. John headed to the back porch empty handed. Dean glared as he grabbed his father's duffle, throwing it over his shoulder. He grabbed his as well and followed.

"It's about time you got here." Caleb leaned by the back door as John pulled open the door leading into the screened in porch.

"Didn't know we were supposed to be here at a particular time," John said.

"I was bored, figured you'd liven things up," Caleb said, stepping back to let John and Dean in. "Let me take one of those."

"I've got it, Damien" Dean said, belligerently. "This is the job for a grunt; just tell me where to put them."

"Up the stairs," Caleb explained. "Your room is the first one on the right. Johnny's two doors down."

Dean stormed through the kitchen almost bowling Mackland over. The blond didn't look back as he stomped up the stairs. Caleb raised his eyebrows at his father, but didn't say anything.

"That's what I've been dealing with." John opened the refrigerator and looked for a beer.

"Maybe if you didn't use him as a pack horse he wouldn't be so pissed." Caleb defended his friend.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Mac asked.

John just rolled his eyes.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'"

"You know we're not the talking kind of family," John said.

Caleb snorted. "You're finally admitting that?"

"You are not helping, Son." Mac scolded. "Maybe Dean will open up at dinner. I've made reservations for seven at the Court of the Two Sisters."

"How about take out?" John did not do fancy restaurants. He found them uncomfortable.

Mackland frowned, and crossed his arms. He was not going to be dissuaded. "How about we share a nice meal at a nice restaurant and you pretend to enjoy it."

"I'm not wearing a tie."

"Do you even own one?" Reaves prompted.

They heard Dean come down the stairs. As he stepped into the kitchen they could see he'd changed while he was upstairs. The white bandage on his forearm was stark against the black T-shirt and dark jeans. The dark bruising surrounding the cut was clearly visible under the bandage.

"Going for the walking wounded look?" Caleb commented about the bandage.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Out."

"Mac made dinner reservations. He's making us go." John said.

"I'll meet you there," Dean offered.

John was about to argue but Caleb spoke up. "I'll go with you."

"You don't even know where I'm going."

"I have a pretty good idea." Caleb smiled. "We'll meet you at the restaurant."

Mac watched as his son followed Dean out the back door. He gestured to the beer in John's hand. "I'll have one of those."

John grabbed a second one from the refrigerator, and joined Mackland at the table. The doctor could see the older Winchester was frustrated.

"You have to try talking to him."

"I don't know how," John admitted.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"So what have you been up to?" Caleb asked. Dean gave him a 'what do you think' look. "Besides hunting."

"What else it there?" Dean said, jamming his hands in his jeans pockets. "That's my life, Damien."

"Yeah, John can been pretty single minded." Caleb sighed. "Some girl into something kinky?" Reaves gestured to the arm bandage.

"Wasn't paying attention." Dean shrugged. "Angry spirit got the jump on me."

Reaves wasn't sure what was bothering his friend. Sure he could read him to find out, but he wouldn't invade the blond's privacy. He'd just have to wait, no matter how long it took.

"Come on, I know one of the best pool halls."

"Reading my mind, Damien?"

"Like I'd want to read your freaky mind." Caleb laughed. "I just know you, let's go."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean smiled as he walked along Royal Street towards the Court of the Two Sisters. Caleb was right. He knew the best pool hall. Hustling pool in the Big Easy was always a challenge and Dean loved it. Everyone was hustling and knew it. To be able to beat someone at their own game was the challenge. The older gentleman Dean hustled had been impressed and said so. The blond just smiled as he took the money and left. The dark haired hunter walked along beside his friend feeling more relaxed. They stepped through the doors of the fancy restaurant stopping by the host stand.

"Dr. Mackland Ames's table."

"Ah yes, he's out in the courtyard," the man replied. "If you'll follow me."

Caleb pushed Dean to follow. The blond sighed and figured he might as well get this over with. They walked through the main restaurant outside to the courtyard. The arbors over the open air space were heavy with wisteria. Other trees grew in the courtyard and were wrapped in white lights. The host led them to a table by the brick wall.

"Good, just in time to order drinks," Mac said in greeting.

"I'll have a Bud," Dean told the waiter as he sat down.

"I'll take the same," Caleb ordered.

John didn't say anything as he watched Dean take a seat. He just hoped Caleb was able to figure out what was bothering his son. The youngest picked up his menu trying to decide what to get as the waiter returned with the drinks.

"Can I take your orders?"

The waiter went around the table taking everyone's orders. When he was gone Mackland turned to Dean.

"Did you boys find anything interesting when you went out?"

"We went to the Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop for a bit," Caleb answered. "Listened to a bit of Jazz."

"That place was pretty cool," Dean added.

"I know it well." Mac smiled. "Did you know it was actually owned by Jean Lafitte the pirate?"

"Yeah?" Dean knew the story already but why spoil Mac's fun.

The neurosurgeon saw the younger hunter smiling. "So you heard it already?"

Dean laughed. "Deuce got the story from the pretty red haired bar maid," Caleb commented.

"And after?" John asked.

Dean looked at his father trying to decide if he'd answer or not. "We hustled some pool. I thought it was entertaining."

"Excuse me?" John scowled

"Caleb," Mac sighed.

Reaves grabbed Dean's neck giving it a shake. "You're dead."

The blond laughed. "Lighten up. We just played some pool at Grit's Bar."

John just shook his head as Mac smiled. Dean opened up a bit more after teasing Caleb. Mackland questioned the cut, and Dean told him about the hunt and resulting injury. The doctor commented he'd take a look at it when they got back to the house.

"Can I get you gentlemen some desert?" The diligent waiter asked.

"I'll have the Bananas Foster," Mac said.

"You'll lose you girlish figure," John commented.

"I don't care about my girlish figure," Dean commented. "Do you have chocolate cake?"

"We have a seven layer chocolate cake that's excellent," the waiter answered.

"I'll have that," Dean said as Caleb snickered. "What?"

"Dude, chocolate cake? What are you twelve?"

"Hey, when do I ever get the chance to order anything I want," Dean said, leaning back. "Especially when I'm not buying."

Another round of drinks was ordered and Mac offered a toast.

"To good friends."

They all raised their glasses but Caleb could feel Dean's good mood vanish. The youngest ate his dessert in silence. Mac looked at his son who shrugged helplessly. The walk back to the house was awkward. Caleb tried to engage Dean in a conversation, but the blond just shrugged or gave him single word answers. When they got back to the house Dean went straight up to his room, shutting the door.

"That worked out well," John said sarcastically, heading for his room.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean peeled his sweaty jeans and T-shirt off and lay on top of the covers. He was so glad this house had air conditioning or he'd be going crazy. Dinner was going pretty well until Mac made that stupid toast. He didn't know why he'd been so disappointed Mackland had forgotten. Hell, his father couldn't even remember so why should he expect the doctor too. Dean grabbed his phone off the table and scrolled through his contacts. He stopped on one and stared at it for a while. It had been almost a year and his dad wouldn't even talk about his brother. Dean closed the phone and threw it across the room.

"Happy Birthday, Sammy."