He caught up with Sam and the rest of the Campbell crew at the old house, where they were preparing for the fight with the djinn. The typical hunter pre-fight activities were covered; cleaning weapons, sitting around talking shit, talking the big talk. He hoped they could deliver a little more than this. If not, well, they better step back and stay the hell out of his way. "So what's the plan?" He asked.
"Well, right now we stock up and get set." Samuel answered.
Dean paused. "So you're saying there is no plan." He thought these guys were supposed to be good at this.
Samuel gave him a look that he didn't like at all. It was condescending, sort of like oh isn't he precious. "We'll find them. You just gotta be patient."
"Yeah, yeah of course." He grimaced. "Or here's an alt, why don't we go kill the sons of bitches that broke into my home?" He liked his plan better, a lot better. You just gotta be patient. Was he fricken serious?
Tweedle Dee decided to chime in while he was playing with his gun. "Relax Dean, we got it handled. Djinn are hard to draw out. You been out of the game for awhile, leave it to the professionals."
"Yeah, sure." He agreed quickly again, only to keep from ripping someone's head off. Who the hell did they think they were talking to? "Tiny suggestion though, see, djinn are easier to draw out, when you got bait. They want Sam and me, they know where I live. Now I haven't been 'hunting' in awhile but I'm gonna stick my neck out and say that's a pretty good place to go." They all looked at him for a moment, like they realized all of a sudden he might know what he's talking about. "See, it's almost like I'm a professional." Samuel and Gwen smiled at least.
As soon as they started setting up shop at the house he regretted the idea. He didn't like them touching everything, going through their personal items, it felt like an invasion of privacy. Mark picked up one of the framed photos on an end table and Dean immediately went on the defense.
"Hey, hey…" He walked over and took the picture, setting it back in its place. "Do me a favor and don't touch anything huh?"
"Ah look at that." Sam said from the kitchen, then of course had to follow up by bringing the item out for everyone to see. "A magic bullet. Not just for the bedroom." He held up the food processor with a smirk.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up and put it back." Kayla loved that thing, she'd have his ass if they broke it. Hmm. Maybe he had gotten a bit domestic.
Meanwhile Gwen was cooing over Alex's pack and play, pointing out the array of soft fluffy things. It was all a little much for him. This wasn't a place for hunters, this was a family home. He took retreat into the kitchen, snatching the processor from Sam on the way in and slid it back against the counter. After splashing some water on his face his head began to clear slightly; he needed to look at this like a job. It's just a job, and it's just temporary. As he turned around, Samuel was coming in.
"Nice house."
"Yeah go ahead and say it, call me a soccer mom, whatever." He could take whatever they could throw at him. Well, eventually he would throw back and it would most likely come in a blow to the face, but they were welcomed to keep pushing.
"Soccer mom huh?" He shrugged. "I'll have to look that up on the intra-net." His pronunciation was all wrong, Dean had to remember he wasn't from this era. "Believe it or not, I get it Dean. You wanted a normal life. Your mom wanted a normal life too, you remind me of her actually. The attitude for one thing." His face softened and he smiled a little before getting back to business. "Your brother tell you what we've been dealing with the last couple months?"
"No, not really." He admitted. They hadn't really had any time for sharing and caring with the sudden emergency coming up. He wasn't really sure he wanted to know.
"I haven't seen anything like it. We've been working around the clock."
"So what's going on?"
"We don't know, but whatever it is, it goes way beyond a couple of djinn acting off. Nocturnals attacking in broad daylight, werewolves out on the half moon, creatures…things we haven't even seen before, we don't even know what they are." And that was a big deal for hunters. As long as they've been around, they should have a category for everything. "It's all making me uneasy."
He didn't really like the direction this was going, more importantly, he didn't like how his anticipation was building waiting for it. "What's your theory?"
"You tell me. All I can say is that it's all hands on deck right now. That's how Campbell's are. We need you Dean. We'd recruit Kayla too but, she's kind of got her hands full right now."
And he wasn't about to leave her to handle everything, not alone. He couldn't do it. "Look I hear you, but…"
"You don't know what you're part of Dean. You know you had ancestors hacking the heads off vamps on the Mayflower. What I'm saying is that we're you're blood, and we're out there dying trying to get in front of whatever this is. Maybe it's not the best time to be a 'soccer mom'."
Dean sighed and went to make the rounds, check out what was going on around the premises. He thought this was what he wanted, Sam was back, he was safe, hell, better than safe. He had backup. Now they wanted him back in and they just had to throw up the family card, every damn time. Why did everything have to be so damned complicated? Why wouldn't Sam just come back and hang out, have a few beers, stick around for awhile, be normal with them. At least for awhile.