Title: Hunter of the Damned

Words: Around 2,000.

Rating – PG or PG-13 for language. Gen.

Characters: Sam, Dean, OC (Lori)

Summary: You gotta set free what you want just to bring it back.

"The courtroom and the classroom, were the places I belonged
But ancient evil came and made me battle the unknown …

With cross and fire, stake and sword,
I rove a blasted land
Now I am Van Helsing
The hunter of the damned"

Hunter of the Damned by Michael Longcor.

"Okay, Dean," Sam said. "Talk to me, man." They were sitting across from each other in the living room, and he was glaring so hard at Dean, he was sure it made some effect on him.

Dean kept his silence, but his expression was all 'We're men, we're Winchesters, and we do not talk about it.'

"You know I can be stubborn, right?" Sam hoped that his tone said 'We're men, we're Winchesters, and we're going to talk about this, even if I have to nag you for all eternity.'

More silence. Me too.

Sam decided to switch tactics. Getting Dean to talk required more than just being just stubborn. One had to be stubborn and sneaky. After so many years, Sam could write the 'Getting Dean to Talk for Dummies' guide.

"So, you were just going to leave? You prefer Bobby to your own brother?" Guilt-tripping, Sam mused, was low, but effective.

"You know it's not like that," murmured Dean, face half-buried between his palms

"All I know," said Sam, "is that you snuck out of the house and tried to reach South Dakota."

"I was trying to do you a favor, moron."

Was there a hardware store around? Because Sam really needed that driller.

"Oh, so that's your idea of a favor? Disappearing like that? Because I got to tell you, most people wouldn't consider running away from your brother such a favor."

"I wasn't 'running away'," said Dean with dignity. "I'm an adult, last time I checked. I was just…relocating myself. Besides, I was going to call once I get to Bobby."

Sam rubbed his temples. "Did you think that would be before or after my heart attack?"

Dean snorted. "Stop being such a drama queen."

"You could have been hit by a car!" Sam was practically screaming. "You could have been kidnapped, mugged, murdered…Everybody out there has the advantage on you."

Sam saw Dean's face clouding. "Don't you think I know that? I know I'm helpless, okay? I get it. That doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life protecting me."

Dean still didn't get it, thought Sam. "Wouldn't you have done the same for me?" he asked.

"Not the same," said Dean.

"How come?"

"I'm the older. That means that I'm always right, and that I'm the one who should look after you, Sammy. It's the first rule in the big brothers handbook."

Sam sighed. "You do remember I'm four inches taller than you, right? That hasn't changed since you got hurt."

"Three!" Dean responded immediately.

"Liar. I've been four inches taller than you since I was seventeen, and you're still in denial."

"Three. That's my version and I'm sticking to it. Besides, I potty-trained you."

If Sam wasn't so pissed, he would have laughed. "That was what, twenty-three years ago?"

"Still counts."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes it does."

Sam threw his hands in the air. "You're impossible, you know that? Look, I know what you're thinking."

"Oh, so you're a mind-reader now?"

"Don't have to be. Like you said, you're my big brother. I know you. You still think that I'm going after that white picket fence, and you're the only one keeping me away from going back to being Joe College." By the expression on Dean's face, Sam definitely got it right, and he went on.

"I already told you, I've changed. Even if you weren't hurt so badly…I wouldn't have left you or the hunting. All the people out there, who don't know anything about angry spirits and demons that are evil just to be evil? They need help, and I can help them far more as a hunter than a lawyer."

"Huh."

"Huh," repeated Sam. "That's all you have to say?"

"You want to hunt?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"But you can't…because you can't leave me."

"Dean…"

"It doesn't matter what life you want, Sam," said Dean harshly, "I'm still in your way."

Two days of very disturbing quiet. Dean was so bored, he worked for hours on his computer. And no, trying to make amends to Sam had nothing to do with that. He was adjusting to his new situation, that's all. He heard steps behind him, and turned his head.

"Dean?"

"Yeah"

"Look, I was thinking…" Sam began. Each time his little brother said something like that, Dean was tempted to take cover. But hell, he'd take Sam's voice over the damn computer every day. Not that he'd tell him that.

"About what?"

"About…everything. Our situation. You were right."

"I'm always right," said Dean. Really, Sam should have figured it out by now. "What was I right about?"

Sam hesitated a bit. "I was kind of…avoiding life, since The Demon. But I'm not going to, not anymore. I figured that I can go back hunting, part time– and we'll get Lori to move in and stay with you. So you see," Sam said in a light tone, "you're hardly in the way."

"Dude, Lori? How do we get her to move in here?"

"It shouldn't be a problem." By the tone of Sam's voice, Dean knew he already had everything worked out, at least in his head.

"She lives in the dorms, right? We'll offer her free boarding and a good salary…trust me, it's a good deal, for her and for us."

Dean was still trying to wrap his mind around the 'Lori moving in' concept. "Maybe she already got a job, ever thought of that? Student by day, stripper by night…"

"Funny."

"Ok, so she probably isn't," admitted Dean, "but maybe she's a private tutor, something like that."

"Sam, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not? Everything okay between you two, right? Please, tell me you didn't piss her off."

"Everything's good, and I didn't piss her off. Why would I do that? Don't answer that; I was being rhetorical." He and Lori got along fine, even if he didn't like the idea of being good-smaritanned. That wasn't the problem.

"Sam, she doesn't have a clue about what we're into – hell, if she ever come across a ghost, she'd question it about the deep psychological reasons that pushed it to stay behind, and if it had anything to do with its traumatic childhood."

Sam laughed. "I don't think she's studying clinical psychology, man. Besides, what do you want to do, post an ad in I can call Jo, if you want…"

"Jo?" repeated Dean, "tell me you're joking."

"I hate breaking it to you, but we don't know that many people."

Well, that was true. But that didn't mean that Dean was willing to live with Jo under the same roof.

"You'd hate living with Jo," Dean said quickly, just to remind Sam he wouldn't be the only one to suffer the consequences of such a rushed move. What was next, moving in with Missouri?

"Hey, I'll be out hunting most of the time. You, on the other hand…" Sam didn't finish the sentence, undoubtedly wanting Dean to come up with possible scenarios on his own.

"What's the problem?" asked Sam. "Are you afraid that she'd throw out food from the fridge before it had its chance with natural selection?"

Truth was, Dean hadn't even thought that far, but now that Sam mentioned it…women did have strange habits. Keeping the toilet's sit down, deep conversations, crying… Who knew what they did when you actually lived with them?

"Hey, when it comes to my nutrition, I believe in the survival of the fittest," announced Dean. "I only eat what won the fridge's evolutional race."

Sam huffed. "Yeah, you and the mold."

"That's reason they make antibiotic out of mold, genius. It eats the germs. And by the way – what are we going to tell her about why you have to hit the road half the time?"

"Exactly what we told her at the hospital. I'm a private investigator, so I have to travel a lot, and I don't want you to be on your own while I'm on the road."

Sam obviously had an answer for anything…and Dean decided to let him have his way, for a change.

"Fine. You know what? Call and ask her. I bet she'd laugh in your face."

"…If we stayed in a place longer than a week, Danny was due to make friends. He had to lie to them, of course. Mom died in a fire caused by a shortened electric circle, and Dad was a salesman, so he had to travel a lot.

Me, I kind of gave it up after a while. What's the point of telling of putting time and effort into lies, just to leave and start the process all over again? I tried telling the truth once, when Danny was already in Harvard. She said I was nuts."

Sam left early in the morning, about to hunt what was probably a vengeful spirit. They said their goodbye in front of the house, near Sam's new truck. Part of Dean resented the idea of sending Sam out there on his own. It was a dangerous world – he should know. But he kept quiet, because Sam had enough troubles leaving him as it was, and Dean learned that, well…you gotta set free what you want just to bring it back.

"Be careful, okay?" he said instead. "Watch out for yourself." Okay, he thought, if Sam was going to leave, he'd better do it now, before the so-called simple goodbye would become Hallmark-worthy.

"You, too," said Sam, patting his back in something suspiciously close to a hug.

"See you in a few days," said Lori, and Dean wondered if she thought they were making too much a deal of a simple investigation trip. He stepped a bit away from Sam and tried to smile. "Have fun."

"I'll call as soon as I get there," promised Sam. Dean could hear him opening the truck's door.

"I know," he said, nodding, and then he heard the door closed, the engine coming to life.

"He's going to be fine," said Lori, as the engine's sound became more and more distant.

"I know," repeated Dean. Dad and he trained the kid themselves, after all. Damn it, he wished Dad could see that, their Sammy hunting on his own. He would have been proud.

Speaking of Dad…there was one other family member he had neglected.

"Lori," said Dean, "would you mind taking me to the garage?"

"Hi, girl," said Dean, tracing the Impala's lines with his fingers. "How have you been? Sorry for not driving you anymore…wish I could. But don't worry, you're going be okay. Who knows, you might live to see old age." He patted the roof, and felt sorry for his girl. She was meant to tear the open road, with good ol' rock n' role blasting and engine roaring.

"She's pretty," said Lori from behind him.

"She's a 67' Chevy Impala," said Dean, "been everywhere, seen everything. Well, except for the Grand Canyon."

"Why not the Grand Canyon?"

Dean shrugged, "never got the chance."

"Well, Grand Canyon or not, it sounds like she's been through enough for one car," said Lori.

"She was," agreed Dean. His hand was still resting on the roof, just where it connected with a window. "She's part of the family, you know."

"Impala Winchester?" asked Lori, and Dean chuckled.

"Yeah. I guess you can call her that. She had as much action as we did."

"Maybe it's time for her to rest a bit."

"Maybe…" said Dean, "at least for a while."

END

A/N Well, that's it! I hope you enjoyed reading this part of my little 'verse. Please leave a review.