A/N: Geez, so ya'll liked Tiger!Dean huh? I had a feeling he'd be popular. Thanks for all your encouragement!

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone that you recognize. Please don't sue me. I'm poor.

Chapter 10 – dean and coyote's most excellent road trip, part 2

Hollywood Sign
Dusk

Nobody's around when they fade into view on the hillside right next to the HOLLYWOOD sign.

"Did the dog deliver, or did the dog deliver?" Coyote says smugly. He's back to furry and four-legged.

Dean grins. "Dog boy delivered. You the man." He makes a short mock bow. "I sit at your feet, sensei."

Coyote nods solemnly. "As well you should, grasshopper. Anne's gonna send me copies of the proofs. You made quite an impression on 'em, kid."

"Yeah, well…it was good." The smile on Dean's face is almost shy, bashful. He won't look Coyote in the eyes. "Better than I ever thought it would be. I get the deal about the fur. I finally do."

The moment's kinda awkward, but nice at the same time. Not a chick flick moment. Not a full blown one anyway. This is manly.

Yeah.

Coyote looks away and pretends the LA skyline at dusk is just so damned interesting.

Wasn't always like this. First three days Coyote made himself known he and Dean tried to trick and trap each other. What a difference a year makes.

Dean looks up at the HOLLYWOOD sign. Funny, it doesn't look as bright and pristine as it does from street level. There's graffiti all over it, even up at the top. Dean wonders who Chico was, and why he was here, and if you can have a good time when you call "Bunny", Dean figures Bunny could have at least put her phone number someplace with better foot traffic.

It's 323-772-0123, and no, Dean doesn't write it down. He doesn't have to.

Emo bit's over. Dean brightens up, clears his throat. "Okay. Where to next?"

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St. Louis, Missouri
Thirty minutes later

"Uh, Sam?" Rebecca says worriedly.

Sam doesn't seem to hear her. He hunches his shoulders as he sits at her laptop in the spare bedroom. She watches anxiously as he scribbles down notes on that notepad of his.

"Sam?"

Finally. "Yeah, Bec?"

"Zack's here. He wants to see you. When are you coming out?"

"Uhm…in a minute."

"Sam, is everything okay?"

"Huh? Sure. Sure." Wikipedia came up a big fat zero. Sam moves on to to look up Gods of Pranks and Concealment.

"Is everything okay with Dean?"

"Oh yeah. Dean." Sam smiles evilly. How about putting plaster of paris in those bath salts Dean likes to use sometimes? "Oh yeah."

Another addition to the list.

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Rooftop – The Daily Planet building
Later that same night

He manages not to knock down the building as he flies by. That's something at least. It's a practice flight, and as he lands Dean fidgets and pulls at the seat of the red trunks. He's frowning. "Kinda bunches at the back, y'know."

This is damned uncomfortable. He throws his head back repeatedly to get that black curl of hair out of his eyes. Damn thing keeps falling down.

Coyote actually makes a tsking sound.

"You look fine, kid. The cape hides it."

"Doesn't hide it enough. Damn, this bunches worse than pantyhose…"

"Again with the pantyhose, niño." The Old Man lays his ears back and smirks. "Somethin' you wanna tell me?"

"Well, I kinda have an issue with flying…and he wears his underwear on the outside."

"Quit fidgeting. You look fine."

Dean looks up and sees the real Man of Steel hovering in the air right behind Coyote. "Uh, somehow I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Dean snarks.

Supes looks annoyed, to say the least. Closed off body language, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Ahem."

"Hey," Coyote turns and grins at him slyly. "Nice boots."

"Hmph."

Dean and Coyote look at each other as they fade out. "Plan B."

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Sam slips out of Rebecca's house sometime after one o'clock with his duffel and credit card. The Walgreens store is open twenty four hours. Sam really does appreciate that.

Hours ago he tried to act normal when he finally came out of that spare bedroom. Judging from the looks on everyone's faces Sam knows he really did a piss poor job of it. All he could think about was Dean.

Dean with that cheesy grin on his face.

Dean with a headful of shampoo and white glue.

Dean camping out in the bathroom because of that magnesium citrate.

He ditched me, Sam thought to himself. He. Ditched. Me.

Sam's got his list with him, too. Dish detergent, saran wrap, superglue, magnesium citrate. White glue, cherry and grape Kool-Aid. Duct tape. Plastic bags. Ambesol. Scotch tape and a package of popcorn kernels.

Sam somehow manages not to grin evilly and scare the hell out of the cashier as he checks out.

Dean was right all along. The credit card is good.

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This is cake, Dean thinks to himself as the dude with the gun turns to face him. It's no contest, of course, and Dean smirks as he spins around and effortlessly delivers a wheel kick to the guy's mid-section that lays him right out. The other four decide to flee then, and they bolt out of the alley, right past this huge dog who sits there watching the whole thing rather intently.

It's a short getaway. About fifty feet.

Chumps never knew what hit them.

Dean leaves them tied up, hanging upside down from several street lamps in the area. Coyote comes out and sits beside him, and a passing motorist is more than eager to take a picture of the two of them with the perps, one with his own cell phone, another one with Dean's camera phone.

"Otherwise my snot-nosed brother won't believe any of this," Dean tells him.

Two hours, three muggers, two carjackers, six more perps, one attempted armored car robbery and twelve intended victims later (not to mention an amazed and grateful armored car crew of four guards), Dean's practically bouncing on his toes.

His black, well armored toes. The batsuit is a perfect fit. It's from "The Dark Knight." Even though Dean has a fondness for Michael Keaton's suit and his portrayal of Batman, Dean wanted to be able to turn his head.

The armored car driver took a picture of Dean with the other guards using his personal phone, and then snapped another picture with Dean's phone. Coyote sat next to Dean grinning, but he did flinch a little when Dean referred to him as "Bat Hound."

Well, smartass wouldn't wear the mask Dean wanted him to wear.

Oh well.

Rooftop of Wayne Industries - Gotham City
Later

"Did you see it? Did you see what I did?"

"Uh…yeah." Coyote looks puzzled. "Thing I don't get is, you hated flying, but you were okay with jumping off those tall buildings. Uh, how many times? I lost count."

"Doesn't matter." Dean assumes a heroic pose, chin up, fists on his hips. "I'm Batman!"

"Yeah, right…" Coyote eyes him rather doubtfully.

Superman lands lightly on the rooftop a few feet away. "Hi, Bruce. Heck of a night so far, huh? Hey, wait a minute. You're not---"

"Time to go. Bye!"

Middle of nowhere, New Mexico
Five minutes before dawn

Trooper Henry Kaminski's seen a lot of weird things out here. Thought he saw a UFO once, a V shaped cluster of bright white lights that danced and soared in the night sky. Now Kaminski sits in his cruiser, staring straight ahead at the spectacle in front of him. He grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

He's never seen anything like this.

"My ass is on the ground," Godzilla pouts.

"Yeah. Your tail's draggin'," the other one says. It looks like a dog. A coyote. Hank's never seen one that large, that perfect before. He can hear its voice inside his head, all low and whiskey smooth. Godzilla has the same voice, and they fuss back and forth at each other, bickering like an old married couple.

"That redesign was better. More like a T-Rex."

"Wait a minute." The giant lizard scowls darkly. "You liked the new Godzilla movie?"

The coyote shrugs. "Yeah."

"That movie sucked."

"And you went to see it anyway, didn't you?" The coyote quirks an eyebrow. "Gee, I wonder why."

"Heathen," Godzilla mumbles. He looks down his body with a critical eye. "I dunno. Does this make my hips look fat?"

The coyote rolls his eyes. "You look like a man in a rubber suit. We're about to burn a lotta daylight, niño. You gonna rampage or not?"

Godzilla sulks. "I'm not in the damn mood now."

"Emo bitch."

"Hey, that's my line."

"Whatever, kid, whatever." The coyote looks at Hank and grins slyly. "Why, hello there, officer. Hell of a mornin', ain't it?"

The sun comes up over the horizon just then, and the sudden stab of bright sunlight blinds Kaminski for a moment. When his vision clears the coyote and Godzilla are gone.

Several hours later copies of the dash cam video makes it to YouTube, posted by law_n_ordergurl.

Got over two million hits the first hour.

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Las Vegas, Nevada
Later on that same day

"Dean?"

"Oh, hi, Jo."

"Listen, I'm down at the Roadhouse. Couple of hunters dropped by this morning. I heard something about Sam. Your old friend Gordon Walker is getting a group together. Hunting party. They're going after Sam next."

Dean's face darkens. "Hell they are. Got it. Thanks, Jo. I owe you a favor."

"No, you don't. Couldn't find out where they are, though."

"No worries. I'll find them."

"Okay. Kick Gordon's ass once for me, will ya?"

"You can count on it." Dean flips his cell closed and stands there. He's breathing heavily, but he's not even aware that he's doing it.

Dean's normally bright green eyes glow even brighter.

They're a couple of blocks away from City Hall. Coyote's sitting with his back to Dean, looking out at the early morning street traffic, just enjoying the sights. Nobody seems to notice him, or care. He's just sitting there, tongue lolling out of his mouth, relaxed and happy.

Dean thinks about Gordon, remembers that at one time he actually thought ol' Gordon was a pretty decent guy.

That was before. Before Gordon got it into his head that Sammy was the AntiChrist. Before Gordon decided that Sam should die.

Dean fingers the collar of his overshirt, pulls it and his t shirt away from his neck.

Getting hard to breathe.

Dean doesn't realize that his muscles are expanding. He's growing taller. He doesn't notice that greenish tint to his skin now, or how large his fingers are getting. The back seam of his beloved leather jacket splits down the middle as Dean's body expands. He pulls off what's left of his jacket and shirts without much thought. His feet burst out of his socks and work boots, and his jeans now cover him only from his waist to his knees.

Coyote's still sitting there with his back to Dean, and the Old Man gradually becomes aware of all that energy churning in the air behind him.

Coyote lays his ears back and slowly turns around to stare at Dean. "Uh…kid…"

Dean doesn't even notice. All he can think about is kicking Gordon Walker's ass, his ass and any other sonofabitch who would even dare to come after Sam. Dean's growling, low and deep in his throat. He raises both heavily muscled arms over his head, emerald green and bare now, his hands balled into fists.

Gordon. Gordon wants to kill Sam.

"Hulk smash!" Dean roars, and he brings both fists down onto the sidewalk. The crater is about two feet deep. Parked cars nearby jump into the air as the street cracks and chips of concrete fly through the air.

Coyote shakes his head. "Oy vey."

Several people pull out their cell phones and start snapping pictures as Coyote and Dean disappear from the street in a flash of golden light.

The video makes MySpace and YouTube. Incredible Hulk and raging desert wildlife sighted on Vegas strip, says one blog. Life in Vegas is wild, says another.

Who knew.

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Sam shows up at Bobby's place twenty minutes later, just pops in out of thin air in the yard next to the Impala. John's the only one to see his youngest son come back. John lifts his head up from under the Impala's hood. The old girl needed a change of spark plugs, and it was something to occupy his time.

Sam stumbles forward a little, with his duffel slung on his back. At first it does look like he was literally pushed out of a moving car, only thing is there's no car behind him, just this faint golden haze in the air behind him.

John recognizes Dean's handiwork when he sees it.

"Hey, Sam," John murmurs fondly.

Sam just stands there and stares at John. Sam doesn't look happy. "He ditched me. Again."

"Who?"

"Dean. Came to Rebecca's house. Ditched me. Again," Sam grits out.

He shoulders his duffel and stalks into the house without another word.

Sam's got work to do.

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Epilogue is next. Yep, I posted them at the same time. Go on now.