Thanks again to Tiffany for her help and exemplary beta skills!

The Peacekeeper

Dean and Sam sat in a booth at a local diner, eating a leisurely lunch, poring over articles and obits looking for their next gig. Sam was uncharacteristically silent, still feeling the sting of letting their dad go after the confrontation with the daeva.

"You've been quiet," Dean said.

"Just thinking."

"I see that. About what?"

"Nothing," Sam answered, wanting to avoid a deeper discussion, knowing where it would lead.

Dean recognized the frustration in Sam's tone, and knew where it was coming from.

"Ah, so even when dad's not here, he's getting to you."

"Don't."

"Don't what? Come on, Sam, talk to me. What's eating at you?"

"I still don't understand why we couldn't have stayed together."

"You know why."

"Yeh, he doesn't want to put us at risk."

"Or us him. Remember, I brought it up in the first place."

"Yeh, I know, but I think it's more than that. I think it's me he doesn't want around in the fight. "

"Why would you think that? Didn't you hear him tell you that he was glad to see you? Didn't you hear him say that we'll all have a part to play in the fight?"

"Yeh, but I can't help feeling…"

"What? Sam, don't read into things when there isn't anything there. You and dad, you both do that. You always react first instead of thinking about it. It's why you butt heads all the time. You're alike."

"Are not." Sam softly protested.

Dean looked at him, his eyebrow arched in feigned disbelief.

"Maybe." Sam admitted reluctantly.

"No maybes about it." Dean teased, then got serious. "Sam, I know you want this over. Nobody wants that for you more than I do, but try to have some trust here. If you can't trust dad, then trust me, we will get this thing."

Sam nodded. Dean had a way of diffusing his anger towards their dad and making him feel like he wasn't alone. He had done that for him all their lives. Their dad may say his decisions were protecting them, but Dean's actions actually did protect them. His words could be banked on. His promises were never empty ones.

Suddenly their attention was drawn to shouting at the entrance of the eatery. It looked as if a father and a son were arguing. Dean saw it and stiffened a little, feeling the creep of memories filter in. Sam, too, felt a touch of recall that brought a pained pinch to his face.

The father and son conversation then became heated, and soon everyone could hear them clearly.

"How could you do this, Frank? You know that we're barely keeping afloat here and we really need you!"

"How could I DO THIS? You mean plan for something other than staying here and follow in your footsteps? You mean for dreaming to be something more? I'd think as your son, you'd want that for me, that you'd want more for my life! Instead, you're looking at it as a betrayal! How can YOU do that?"

"Don't talk to me like that! I'm still your father! And just how did you expect me to pay for this pursuit of higher education of yours, huh? If you leave, I'll probably lose the business!"

"I got a scholarship, dad! You won't have to pay a single god damn CENT! And even if I didn't, I wouldn't ask you for a dime! You know, most dads would be proud!"

The words stung both Sam and Dean. It was like a replay of that last day before Sam had left for college, practically to the exact same words.

Then, Dean stood up.

"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asked, but his older brother ignored him as if driven by some other power and went toward the father and son.

"You know what, dad? I'm going to be glad to get out of here, to get out from under your control! I've hated it all my life. I've hated you-"

Dean saw the father's hand rise up to slap his son and stopped it in mid-swing.

"What are you doing?" The father yelled.

"Stopping you from making a mistake you'll regret," Dead said calmly.

"Keep your nose out of our business."

"Well, I'm making it my business now."

When Dean let go of the father's arm, the son began to turn, seeing the intervention as an opportunity to leave, but Dean caught him by the shoulder and turned him back around.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean asked.

"I've got nothing more to say to him and even if I did, it wouldn't make a difference anyway," Frank said.

"Oh, there's plenty more to say from the both of you and we're not leaving until you settle this."

"It's settled," the father said, "If he leaves, he might as well never come back."

Dean straightened in surprise at how much this argument was mirroring the one over 3 years ago. He had been younger then and powerless to find the right words to stop his family from disintegrating, but he wasn't going to let that happen here.

Sam watched also, with the same déjà vu that Dean was feeling, but watching it from the outside looking in made him see things he hadn't been able to while in the heat of it with their own dad years ago.

"You don't mean that," Dean said to the father.

"The hell I don't. If he can't see-"

"What? That maybe it's not about him going to college, but that maybe you're scared? Because you sure as hell are making that clear here."

"Scared? Scared of what?"

"Of not being able to protect him anymore, to make sure he's okay, maybe of losing him?" Dean said. His voice was calm and reasonable, but it was tinged with remembrance.

The father's face changed and the anger ebbed away. His eyes widened at Dean, shocked by the fact that a stranger had seen something that he had been harboring in his heart, but was afraid to voice.

"You love your son, but you're scared to let him go," Dean then turned to Frank, "and you should realize that your dad is proud of you, but all he can see is his son, alone in a world that's not so safe, believe me, I'm an authority on that, and he can't be there to protect you from it."

Frank's face softened at the words, "But I have to find my way someday."

Dean closed his eyes for a second, those words hitting too close to home for him, remembering his conversation with Sam about the same thing. It made him realize that maybe he needed to practice what he was preaching.

"You will, but not this way, not with these feelings between you and your dad. If you do, you'll not only be running away from the one person who's been there for you no matter what, but you'll be closing the door on a life that made you the man you are. From looking at you, I'd say your dad did a pretty good job. Wouldn't you?"

Frank looked at his dad and smiled, "Yeh. Yeh, he did. When mom died, he was all I had, we were all we had."

Dean had to swallow back his emotions. This was getting to be too damn close. It was also bringing a flood of memories that he hadn't been expecting when he had gone over to stop the fight.

Sam watched Dean broker peace between this father and son and his mind forced him to see all of the battles that he had intervened between him and their dad. Some of them had been fierce. There were so many times that they had almost come to blows and Dean had to put his body between them. He flinched remembering one time when their dad had swung to hit him and Dean had stepped in to take the blow. It had clocked him so hard that he had fallen to the floor. It had made both Sam and their dad stop what they were fighting about to help him. Dean had just brushed them off and had gone into his room, his silence voicing his pain in ways words never could. The next day, the bruise had been a reminder of what he and their dad had done, but it still wasn't enough to keep them from doing it over and over again.

Sam felt the guilt wash over him as he remembered those battles. Dean had never complained and swallowed his own pain to negotiate the same kind of peace between them that he was doing for these two strangers. He gazed at his calm and resolute brother and smiled.

"Don't tell me, tell him," Dean suggested when the boy fell silent, motioning to the kid's dad.

"I'm sorry, dad. I didn't mean –" the son started.

"It's all right, son, I didn't either and this young man's right, you know. I'm just scared of losing you. When I lost your mom, it nearly killed me and I just didn't want to lose you too, but I wasn't thinking that my yelling at you like that would make me lose you in a different way."

"I know, dad. Me too."

Dean heaved a shaky sigh then the father looked at him, "Thank you."

"Yeh, thanks," Frank said.

Dean just nodded wordlessly and the father and son walked out, shoulder to shoulder. The diner erupted in applause, which caused Dean to turn away, feeling what he called a "girly blush" rush to his face.

The waitress who had been serving Dean and Sam looked over at Sam and said, "He's got quite a talent there."

Sam looked over and smiled softly, "Yeh. Yeh, he does."

Dean came back over to the booth and handed the waitress some cash, along with a generous tip.

"You know, you did an amazing thing there. Most people they just leave well enough alone. They don't get involved. May I ask, what made you go over there?" She asked, honestly curious.

Dean turned his gaze away, embarrassed by the attention.

"I just couldn't let them do that to each other. It only takes a few angry words…to forget what's really important."

Sam looked into Dean's eyes and saw a sadness there that made him feel guilty.

"Sounds like you've been through it yourself," she said.

Dean just stayed silent, his wordlessness speaking volumes as it often did. The waitress then smiled.

"Well, just wanted to meddle by saying, it's nice to see someone care about a stranger."

She walked away and then they exited the diner, the other patrons smiling and nodding their approval, making Dean squirm from the scrutiny. He hated the attention being drawn to him. He hadn't done it for that.

"Dean, you did a good thing back there. You probably saved a family," Sam complimented, a little worried about starting a chick flick moment that Dean would then try to evade.

"I have to be honest," Dean shrugged as they reached the Impala. "It was more of a reflex."

"We did that to you," Sam said abruptly.

"What?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Dad and me. We did that to you. You did that for us."

"Yeh, well…"

"It wasn't your fault you couldn't help us. We didn't want to be helped. We just wanted to be right. We forced you to choose."

"I couldn't…I…" Dean choked back his feelings. "All I could do was -"

"Put yourself between us. I know. I'm sorry we hurt you and I don't mean with just the words."

Dean looked at him.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not, but I want you to know that I'm sorry."

Dean just silently climbed into the Impala, a small smile on his face that he hid from Sam. Sam followed suit. Once inside, Dean had his tough guy mask on again.

"Let's blow this town. It's gotten way too warm and fuzzy for my taste."

Sam just smiled.