Chapter 4 The darker days

As I have said before, most of the stories here will deal with events I already referred to in passing during Between the Darkness and the Light and Towards a New Age. This is one of them. I've always wanted to have the boys do an old-fashioned hunt in the Babylon 5 universe. This is my attempt

Summary: Kullenbrak knew there was something in his house. Something beyond his comprehension, something that required the expertise of Hunters. So he put in a call for assistance. Little was he to know that the only Hunters near Brakir at the time were the two said to bring death and destruction to the entire galaxy.

Timeline: Around the events of season 4 of Supernatural. Pre-series for Babylon 5 (a few months before B5 station was completed and operational)

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Kullenbrak (Babylon 5)

Nothing that you recognize as belonging to someone else belongs to me

Brakir

There was an ancient saying: if things were going too well, if someone was having too much luck, then one had to expect some misfortune to compensate. One could not expect everything to go smoothly all the time. There had to be dark to balance out the light – terrible times to balance out the blessings. The Universe was built on balance after all. Too much of something and the scales became uneven. The scales could never be uneven. Kullenbrak should have known that. He should have expected the bad luck to come together with the good fortune. Ever since the message came, informing him that he had been chosen as part of Lethke's staff when he went to take up his Ambassador post on Babylon 5 – he should have known there was going to be something bad happening in his life.

In truth, people's reactions to Babylon 5 were lukewarm at best. They said the Earthers' ideas were rather overly-ambitious. They aimed for universal – well, galactic – cooperation, but they seemed to ignore the fact that someone had to be downtrodden, if others were to prosper. It was simply the way of things. And the station might not be safe – considering it was the fifth attempt, the first three having exploded and the fourth having vanished without a trace or explanation. Actually, this fifth one was quite as likely to end up in pieces before it started its missions.

Still…the place might not have been much, but the position of assistant in an ambassadorial staff was always a good one. It meant higher pay. It carried with it a certain amount of prestige. It could lead to promotion. It certainly increased Kullenbrak's chances of becoming an ambassador himself, one day. All in all, it was a lucky thing. So when misfortune followed his nomination, Kullenbrak should not have been surprised.

It all started innocuous enough. Kullenbrak had just arrived home from work to notice the house was quieter than usual. His wife, Mathka was slightly subdued and only two of his children were at the table. There was no sign of his youngest daughter.

"It's a little too early for Ritka to be asleep, isn't it?" Kullenbrak asked carelessly.

His wife looked pained.

"She said she was not feeling well."

That in itself was not enough to really worry Kullenbrak. Children were often prone to unexpected illnesses. Most of the time, they were as good as new the next day. But then Mert, their son, spoke up:

"She said she saw the Shadow."

Kullenbrak raised his eyebrows. He looked questioningly at his Mathka, who shrugged her shoulders.

"A nightmare, I suppose," she said. "Maybe you should talk to her."

Which Kullenbrak did, trying to emphasize that there could be no shadows climbing through windows. There were just bad dreams, and sometimes when you woke up from them you were so confused, you thought they were real. Especially when you were already ill. But that was all.

Kullenbrak was sure he had convinced Ritka she was safe. If there was any cause for concern, it was surely at the back of his mind. Until the next day. Because Ritka was feeling worse then and still crying about shadows climbing through the window. And, to top it all, Alla, the oldest, had seen it too. Of course, she also did not look too good. Perhaps she was catching Ritka's illness.

That day a child two streets away from Kullenbrak died. Everyone was talking about how, before the child had died, she was mumbling about a shadow climbing through the window and standing over her night after night. And that was when he knew he had to take drastic measures.

"I'm calling for Hunters," Kullenbrak announced after dinner.

Mathka looked at him with wide eyes.

"Are you sure? What if they find out at work? They might not take it so well. What if they decide not to give you the position on Lethke's staff, then?"

Kullenbrak waved this aside.

"It won't matter. If something is after us…after our children…we have to know."

Impala

The Impala sped through the endless silence of space. There was silence inside, too. The kind of silence between two people who did not know how to take each other anymore. The silence bred by fear and guilt and too many secrets to count. It was something Sam and Dean were getting used to. It was their new normal and even though they both hated it, they dealt with it in their usual fashion – pretending it wasn't there, instead of tackling it head on. This was not how Sam had imagined his brother's return from Hell would be like. And yes, he had imagined it countless of times. He had dreamed of it almost every night, until he could not take it anymore. Until waking up became a torture. And he sought ways to…distract himself. To delude himself that he was doing something for Dean, even though he knew it was something Dean would never approve of.

It was rather unfair, his belief that nothing would change. Dean had just been in Hell. That was something Sam could not wrap his mind around, even though he had tried – and, unfortunately, he had a very vivid imagination at times. But he doubted his imagination could come even remotely close to the real thing. And here Sam was expecting his brother to be the same as ever. To put aside his issues and just move on. Of course, Dean was pretending to do just that. But he couldn't, not really and Sam could see that. And the new vulnerability in his until then incredibly strong older brother unfazed Sam. He had no idea how to take this new Dean.

But it was not only Dean who had changed. And therein, Sam suspected, lay the problem. Sam had changed too and Dean was now beginning to suspect how much – although, thankfully, he was not close to the whole truth. If Dean was to find out what had really happened after he…left, Sam was sure his brother would not be pleased. And that was putting it mildly.

Sam sighed, leaning his head against the seat. He could feel Dean glancing at him, a touch of concern and curiosity in his eyes. The problem was, Sam was sure that if things had been different, if the two of them had time and will to sit down and talk about all that had happened, they would be all right with each other. If only they were given time to reconnect, they might somehow bring down the wall built up between them by Dean's forty years of torture and Sam's four months of loneliness. But they hardly had any time to breathe, what with Lillith and broken Seals and Angels hovering over Dean and Ruby hovering over Sam…It was as if the entire universe was conspiring to drive a wedge between the two of them. And Sam and Dean were powerless to do anything but observe.

The ship's communication buzzed, bringing Sam's thoughts to a halt. Bobby Singer's face appeared on screen.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted. "Missed us already?"

Bobby scoffed, not deigning to answer.

"Any chance you idjits are close to Brakir?"

Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded.

"More or less," Sam said. "We're heading for that small planetoid on the other side of Brakiri space. Castiel was saying something about a cave there. Apparently there's a Seal in it and we figured that we might get there ahead of Lillith. Maybe prevent her from breaking it."

"Yeah, well, I think you should put that on hold," Bobby said. "I want you two to head to Brakir. You're the closest there and I don't think we can leave this one for too long."

"Why?" Dean asked. "What's happening there?"

"Apparently, children are falling deathly ill after reporting a shadow climbing through their bedroom window. Some government employee called actually. He's given me an impressively comprehensive report of the situation. I can relay the information to you, if you decide to take the case."

"We'll take it," Dean said quickly. "Send us all you've got on this. We'll be on Brakir tonight."

Bobby nodded and ended the transmission. Sam looked at Dean, surprised.

"Are you sure you want to take this detour, Dean?" he asked, carefully.

Dean frowned, his recent irritation with his brother spiking.

"What exactly are you trying to tell me, Sam?" he demanded, a sharp edge in his voice.

Sam looked away.

"Meaning, if Lillith gets there before us, she'll break another Seal. Are you willing to risk that?"

Dean shook his head. He had already altered course for Brakir.

"Number one, we're not even remotely ready to face Lillith, so don't start with me. Number two…what are you suggesting, Sam? Should we just drop this case and let a couple of kids die?"

There was a challenging note in Dean's voice. Something that suggested the Sam he used to know would have never suggested that. And Sam knew it quite well. He knew that kind of cold pragmatism had never been him. And, he hoped very much it still wasn't.

"No," he said quickly. "No, you're quite right. We've got to head to Brakir."

Dean did not say anything to acknowledge his brother's change of heart. But his shoulders were less tense, so Sam supposed he wasn't angry anymore. Sam leaned his head back against the seat again. Maybe the hunt in Brakir was not such a bad idea. Maybe it would do them both good – to remind them of who they really were. If Sam was honest with himself, he preferred to return to rescuing individual lives, instead of the more impersonal attempt of saving the world – or, preventing someone from wrecking it, as the case may be.

Brakir. Kullenbrak's house

Kullenbrak was just getting ready to leave for work when there was a knock on his door. He immediately knew who it had to be and raced to open. He eyed the two young men with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. He had never seen Hunters up close. He had caught a glimpse of one once, but only from a distance. He had not known what to expect, really. But the first thing that came to his mind when he saw his visitors was that the two were incredibly young. Just boys, really.

There was something else about them, though. Something that could be seen beyond their poor clothes and rather haggard expressions. There was a hint of the wilderness in them, of a world that Kullenbrak could not understand. Darkness lurked in the hidden corners of their eyes, not only their own darkness, but the memories of all the shadows they had fought to keep the world safe. And they were so young, Kullenbrak thought again and for a moment all he felt was grief for the two Earth Hunters, for whatever had forced them to travel the galaxy from place to place, searching for monsters all others fled from.

"You are the Hunters, right?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

One of them – the tallest, nodded.

"That's right. I'm Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean."

Kullenbrak's eyes widened. The name was familiar. Even those who did not usually deal with Hunters had caught wind of it. The Winchesters were apparently brilliant at their job, but people said they were cursed. For a moment, he thought about shutting the door in their faces.

"Could we take this inside already?" the shorter one – Dean – asked. "I mean, we can't do much if all we do is stand on your doorstep."

Kullenbrak moved away. He had not expected the Winchesters, but if that was who he was going to get, he would take it. What was it to him that the two would break the world one day? If they saved his daughters today, he had no reason to care what they did later on.

Kullenbrak's wife was sitting at the table, together with Mert. The boy looked healthy, if a little scared. Dean went to sit in front of him. Sam remained standing with Kullenbrak.

"Hey," Dean greeted the boy. "I'm Dean. How're you doing?"

The boy shrugged, his eyes on the table. He had a confused and despondent air about him, like he did not much understand what was going on. Dean glanced up at Sam, then turned his attention to the boy.

"So, your dad's been telling me about the Shadow."

Mert frowned.

"I did not see it," he announced. "Only Ritka and Alla did."

"And only Ritka and Alla are ill" Mathka pointed out.

Sam noticed Dean frowning in concentration. He himself felt this was something they should pay attention to, a clue that would tell them what they were dealing with.

"Mr Kullenbrak," Sam began, turning to the father. "Is Mert your oldest?"

Mert stared gloomily at the floor.

"Alla is older than me," he said grumpily.

"But you didn't see any shadows?" Dean pressed on.

If anything, Mert looked even more irritated.

"If I could have seen it, I'd have stopped it from hurting Ritka and Alla."

And Dean could not really reply to this – because he knew, even now, even with everything that was happening between him and Sam, he still knew. And he did not need to be reminded just how far siblings could go for each other. He glanced at Sam again, but Sam looked distracted. Dean knew that face. It was, fortunately, not the closed off face Sam had become an expert at making since Dean was back from hell. No, this was the look Sam got when he was thinking hard, the "steam will soon come out of my brain" look. The one Dean used to make fun of when times were lighter.

"Mr Kullenbrak," Sam began, "the other child that fell ill…do you know a name?"

Kullenbrak looked at his wife questioningly. She shook her head.

"We didn't know her," she said. "I don't think she was friends with any of our children."

"But you're certain it was a girl?" Sam insisted.

The two Brakiri looked at each other for confirmation. They both nodded at the same time.

"Well," Dean said cheerfully. "At least that's a start. Leave it to us, Mr. Kullenbrak. We'll have your daughters rid of this thing in no time."

There were times when Sam marveled at how Dean could still do it. How he could fake confidence in such a convincing manner. There were times when Sam wondered if he knew his brother at all.

Kullenbrak's office

Sam and Dean established a base of operations in Kullenbrak's office. Kullenbrak had been called away to work and had been unable to say no. Mathka was still at home, though. Talking to the two daughters was not possible. Ritka was unresponsive and Alla was all but delirious. She did not remember anything except seeing a shadow bending over her while she slept. She could not describe anything more concrete, though.

"All right," Sam began, summing up what they knew so far. "We know it attacks when everyone's sleeping. We know it attacks children."

"Female children," Dean completed.

Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"Unless there's another reason why Mert was spared, then yeah. Female children."

Dean shook his head, irritated at Sam's tendency to always be contrary.

"Dude, all victims are female," he pointed out. "I think that gives us a pattern, don't you? So, what kind of big bad have we got in Brakiri lore that creeps into little girls' bedrooms and kills them?"

Sam shook his head. As usual, Dean was following the rules of hunting to the letter – John Winchester's rules of hunting, that was, but however good a Hunter their father had been, Sam sometimes wished he would try now and then to think outside the box. According to experienced Hunters, the closer to home one looked, the likelier they were to find answers. If they were in Brakir, they of course had to look for a Brakiri monster. It was all good and proper, only Sam had to wonder if they could follow the rules in this particular case.

"I know of one," he admitted. "But he attacks adult females, not kids, plus, he doesn't make them fall ill. He makes them insane."

Dean did not appear fazed.

"All right," he said. "So we'll do more research. Find something that fits the parameters better."

Sam did not look too convinced. Dean swallowed his irritation.

"Sam, I might have been out of the picture for a while, but I still know how the job is done."

Sam grimaced. He really had not been trying to antagonize Dean this time – or make him think that he had lost his touch due to Hell.

"Listen, Dean," he began, "Forget you're in Brakir. Imagine this case was on Earth or Mars or Orion 7 or whatever. If you heard of something feeding off a kid's energy like this, attacking siblings, youngest to oldest, making them ill, what would be the first thing that came to your mind?"

Dean's face closed off. Sam bit his lips. Of course, Dean always got upset when they were dealing with that particular kind of monster. Facing it a few years back had done nothing to alleviate his guilt. Sam personally blamed their father for having Dean so messed up and for causing the incident in the first place. But he was not going to tell Dean that. It would only lead to further rows and there were plenty of them these days.

"A shtriga does not attack only female children," Dean said at length. "And a shtriga is strictly human. How would one have gotten as far as Brakir?"

"You remember how Bobby said Kullenbrak's a dignitary? I knew I recognized him from somewhere. I caught a glimpse of him on ISN. Dude, you should watch the news more."

"I'd say you should get a girl, but considering your tastes of late, I think it's better if you stick to the geeky stuff."

The flash of hurt on Sam's face had Dean instantly regretting his rash words. He almost apologized, when Sam waved him off.

"Whatever," he stated flatly. "The point is, Kullenbrak is part of the future diplomatic mission on Babylon 5. They were on some safety conference on Earth a few weeks back. They return, and the attacks start."

Dean looked at Sam thoughtfully. There was a point in all that he was saying.

"So you think a shtriga hitched a ride to Brakir with them? But, if so, why is it attacking only girls? Shtrigas don't discriminate."

Sam nodded wearily.

"So why is this one being misogynistic?" Dean insisted.

He saw the thoughtful look in Sam's eyes and knew he already had a theory.

"Whenever you want to share with the rest of the class, Sammy," he said pointedly.

Sam looked slightly startled. Dean thought he knew why. He rarely called his brother Sammy these days. But maybe the name had nothing to do with it. Maybe Sam had simply been too deep in thoughts.

"This is going to sound weird," Sam said at length.

Dean shrugged.

"Well, considering the source…"

There was no hurt in Sam's eyes this time. There was, however, plenty of irritation. But it was the kind of irritation that always amused Dean. In fact, putting that look on Sam's face was usually the highlight of Dean's day.

"Do you remember those lectures we had in school?" Sam pressed on. "About cross-species diseases? How one disease from a species can mix with another and become something different…maybe even more lethal?"

Dean was shaking his head. Sam's mind sometimes worked in a way that scared him. It impressed him most of the times – although he'd die before he ever told Sam that – but it also scared him.

"What exactly are you trying to say here, Sam? That Supernatural entities from two cultures somehow…what? Merged? Mated? And created an entirely different creature? How does this even make sense?"

"Dean, it doesn't have to make sense," Sam argued. "All those things we hunt, they have their own rules. And whenever we meet new alien races, whenever we interact with the Brakiri or the Centauri or Minbari or whatever…there's an exchange of views…of cultures – isn't there? Well, maybe this exchange goes deeper. Maybe it affects the Supernatural just as much as it affects the normal."

Dean rubbed a weary hand over his eyes. He was beginning to feel a headache building up. It might have been lack of sleep. Or it could have been Sam's twisted explanations.

"All right," he accepted finally. "Let's say you're right and it's a new and improved shtriga mixed with some Brakiri monster. How do we kill it?"

Sam looked blank.

"How am I supposed to know? Can't know everything, can I?"

Dean wondered if he could have that in writing for the next time Sam got all high and mighty about the right way to handle Lillith. But they were finally getting along and he did not have the heart to ruin that.

Several hours later. Alla and Ritka's room

One of the strangest things about Brakir was that Supernatural creatures did not come out at night. They did so in day-time. Perhaps it was not really surprising. Since the Brakiri were nocturnal creatures who slept during the day, it made sense for their monsters to appear in the hours when all was quiet, instead of those of constant activity. Maybe, Dean mused, that was why monsters finding themselves in Brakir had to adapt to their new surroundings – if what Sam had babbled a few hours before was to be believed.

Sam and Dean had agreed to spend the night – day, really – in the girl's bedroom. Remembering the last time they had dealt with a shtriga, catching it unawares while it was trying to feed seemed like a good thing. Convincing Kullenbrak and his wife had been a trial, but the two were finally satisfied that the Winchesters would really make sure their daughters would not be harmed any further. And once the thing was dead, hopefully the children would get better. They were armed with rifles filled with rock-salt and silver bullets. Kullenbrak had been slightly taken aback by their weapons of choice. Perhaps he had expected something less…primitive. But primitive worked better at times. Dean was sure he could aim a phaser at a shtriga and give it nothing but a bad itch.

The waiting was long. Dean was beginning to get restless. He did not like to simply sit and do nothing – not even talk. Inactivity always made him think too much. If he kept busy, he could drive all the troubles and worries from his mind – however bad Sam might consider bottling things up, it was the only way Dean managed to cope. Especially now. Now he needed to keep himself busy more than ever. Otherwise he started thinking about what had happened to him, where he had been and he felt he was slowly but surely going crazy. He shifted in his chair.

Sam shot him a warning look. Dean suppressed a snort. Sam had no problem with sitting and thinking. But, then again, Sam was prone to thinking – or, in Dean's opinion, to overthinking. He always analyzed even the simplest of situations to death. Dean often wondered of late what was in Sam's mind these days. Lillith was in the forefront, of course, and Dean could not really blame him. But there had to be other things. Like Ruby. Although, Dean supposed he should not be thinking of Ruby now. Whenever he thought of her, he wanted to break something.

It was early in the evening. Ritka and Alla were still asleep – but whether that was because of their illness or because they usually slept at that hour, Sam and Dean could not tell. They could hear sounds from the street and they knew the early risers were already starting to wake. It was then they heard it. The unmistakable sound of something scratching at the window, pulling it open. Sam and Dean tensed where they sat in the far corner so as not to be seen from the window.

Their eyes met. They both nodded. They knew that, when the time came to attack, they would act like a well-synchronized unit. A four-month separation and all that lay between them could not put a stop to a lifetime of practice. They might have been feeling all the stuff that divided them, but when it came to hunting they were still the same well-structured team as ever. And they both secretly thought it meant there was still hope for them.

The creature was veiled in darkness. It looked like a shtriga, but it was much taller. It made straight for Alla's bed and bent over it. Alla did not even move. Sam and Dean acted then. They both sprang up at the same time, their guns aimed on the shtriga. They fired simultaneously. The shtriga looked up then, finally noticing the intruders in the room. And then, several things happened at the same time.

Alla woke up and started screaming. Ritka stirred restlessly, but appeared too deep in her fever to move. The shtriga was not even looking at them anymore. She was heading straight for the bigger threat.

"You girls stay down," Dean shouted to Kullenbrak's daughters, his gun trained on the shtriga.

They had already had that discussion with Kullenbrak's daughters – more with Alla since she was the most coherent. The two were to do everything Sam and Dean told them. If they told them to stay put, they should stay put. Dean was grateful they were old enough to understand. At least he did not have to worry about accidentally hitting one of them.

From somewhere in the house a door banged. Kullenbrak must have heard the commotion and wanted to check it out. Sam and Dean hoped the Brakiri would remember his own instructions. He was not to open the door, no matter what he heard.

Sam aimed at the shtriga and pulled the trigger again. He did not think he managed to do much damage, but he did distract it from Dean, which was what he had originally planned. Now that it had a new target, it made straight for Sam. He fired again, but it did not even slow the creature down. Sam backed away slightly and lost his balance, the thing on top of him.

He could make out Dean's panicked voice and there was a brief moment of peace that had nothing to do with the situation he was in. there had been a time he thought he would never hear that note of concern in Dean's voice – not directed at him. It irked Sam, the thought that he was causing his brother distress. At the same time, if that was the last thing he ever heard, he would not have minded.

The thing was on top of Sam, now. He could not really make out its face, but it was looking straight at him. And it knew him. Sam could feel that clearly. It knew about him – about what he was, about the powers, about the demon blood. It probably thought it had found a feast. It was feeding on him. Sam knew that, just as he knew that he was powerless to stop it. It was rather ironic. If it all ended here, whatever plans the demons had for Sam would probably have to end, too. Sam reckoned Castiel and the Angel Brigade would probably have a party. It was the last coherent thought he had.

Dean aimed at the shtriga and fired three times. He hoped feeding on Sam had made it vulnerable, just as he hoped his silver bullets would work. Sam's rock salt had done nothing but irritate her. At the third shot, the shtriga moved away from Sam. It staggered slightly. Dean fired again. The thing gave a sharp cry. Dean nearly covered his ears. Then it fell heavily to the floor and remained there, motionless.

As soon as the shtriga fell to the ground, Ritka woke up screaming. She could not understand what was happening, what the two strange men were doing in her and her sister's room, and how their presence tied to her dreams. Alla sprang up from her hiding place to comfort her younger sister.

Kullenbrak burst in at that moment, followed by Mathka. The two did not care about instructions anymore. They had heard their daughters crying and they could not just sit idly outside the room. Mert came too, but he stopped in the hallway, taking in the view with wide eyes.

Dean ignored all of them. He only had eyes for Sam. His brother had not moved since Dean had shot the shtriga. He lay there, pale and still and the image brought unwanted memories – memories that were constantly present in his dreams, at times tormenting him more than his nightmares about hell. Dean ran to him, relieved to see he was still breathing. At least he was alive.

"Sam!" he exclaimed, shaking him slightly. "Come on, wake up. Come on, man, it shouldn't even have gone for you, you're not a girl, are you, dude? Come on, Sammy. Wake up."

Dean shook his again and Sam woke up with a gasp. He tried to sit up and take in where he was and what was happening around him, but Dean stopped him and pushed him back.

"Just…lie still for a bit, Sammy," Dean said and Sam could plainly hear the shakiness in his brother's voice. "That thing must have taken a lot out of you."

And Sam was too dazed to remember he had to pretend to be strong and independent. He listened to Dean, for once, and allowed himself to be comforted by the knowledge that, even though the bond between them was frayed, it was definitely not broken.

Four days later

Kullenbrak was incredibly generous. Even though the Brakiri insisted on paying Hunters for their services, they did not really pay much. Those that appealed to Hunters were not often from the higher circles of society. They did not always afford to pay a lot. There was no price list for the services Hunters offered, anyway, even though Dean joked that there should be.

But Kullenbrak was different. He was relatively well-off and he saw no reason to hide his gratitude. The Winchesters might have frightened him – with all the rumors about them, it was hard not to feel frightened. But they had also saved his two daughters. They had put a stop to something terrible. And in Kullenbrak's mind that meant they had to be rewarded, not shunned. His payment would keep Sam and Dean going for a while.

The two had spent three more days on Brakir, to check that everything was all right and there was no other mutated shtriga roaming the place. Once they were satisfied their hunt had, indeed, been successful, they bid farewell to the Kullenbrak family and climbed back into the Impala. They set a course for Mars, thinking that touching base with Bobby might do them good.

The atmosphere in the Impala was much improved. Dean seemed to be still a little shell-shocked after the shtriga's attack of Sam. He was much too grateful to have his brother alive to be suspicious of him. As for Sam, he was much too worn out after the attack to do anything that would warrant suspicion. Not to mention that he remembered Dean's concern and thought that, if Dean could still be concerned about him, then maybe things were not so bad. The thought made Sam smile. Dean caught his expression.

"What are you smirking about over there?" he wanted to know.

Sam shrugged.

"Nothing. It's just…That was a good one. Monster's dead. The kids are fine…"

"And Kullenbrak's about to accompany some bigshot to Babylon 5," Dean completed. "If that tin can doesn't get blown up…or vanishes."

Sam hummed thoughtfully. Dean glanced at him.

"What?" he asked.

Sam shrugged.

"Things are changing, Dean," he said. "I'm not talking about the supernatural crap with the apocalypse and the Seals. I'm talking on a more…more normal scale, if you could call it that. All this inter-species cooperation getting more and more serious. I wonder what it will lead too."

Dean shrugged. Hunters did not much care about what was happening in the regular world, not usually. And with all the things Dean knew, he doubted the world would last enough to reach the era of universal cooperation Sam was talking about.

"Not that I want to rain on your geek parade," Dean said. "But what's that gotta do with us?"

Sam looked at Dean pointedly.

"Cooperation isn't only trading and war alliances, Dean. It's forming other sort of ties as well. It's getting in touch with other cultures…other legends. That's bound to create some new monsters, don't you think? Look at what we just dealt with."

Dean did not answer right away. He was surprised Sam's thoughts were leading him in such a direction. The old Sam would have been annoyingly excited about this merging of cultures that he mentioned. It just showed how jaded Sam had become during their four-month separation.

"You join the Homeguard while I was gone?" he asked casually.

Sam snorted.

"Dude, I never said we should cut contact with aliens. Just that…well… there could be a new age approaching. We'll have to be ready for things to change for Hunters as well."

Dean did not say anything. All this talk of the future was beyond him. If what Castiel was telling them was the truth, the future would probably not happen anyway. Sam seemed to guess his thoughts his mood darkened.

"Of course, if we don't stop Lillith there might be no new age, good or bad," he said.

Dean did not respond and Sam did not press. They were enjoying their peace without wanting to ruin it too soon. Sam for one had no illusions. He knew all it would take was Ruby showing her face or Castiel or one of his fellow angels throwing the word "abomination" in Sam's face every three sentences and the tension between him and Dean would be back. But until then, they could just pretend for a little while that things were like old times. That there was no grand plan and no angels or demons. That there was only the two of them and the Impala and the stars to guide their way.

I hope you enjoyed this :)