"I can't believe we are actually going through with this." Sam grumbles, peering out his plane window every few minutes at the clouds below them. "It's a stupid idea."
"No it is not!" Mary bounces up and down excitedly, "This is gonna be so great! A real family vacation!"
"Right." Sam inhales, and rubs his worried temples, "No work, just... family time."
Mary ignores Sam's pessimistic tone, turning her attention to Dean, "Uncle Dean, are... are you humming Metallica?"
"He doesn't like planes." Sam answers for him.
"What? You're a..." Mary lowers her voice to a whisper, "You're a demon? I mean... Even if the plane crashed.."
"Plane crash?" Dean's eyes fly open, and he lurches forward.
"The plane is fine." Sam groans, reaching over Mary to push Dean back into a reclining position. "Can't say the same for me. I don't even know what kind of monsters live in Hawaii."
"This isn't a hunting trip." Mary reminds him for the third time since the flight left Atlanta, "You don't need to know."
"But what if-"
"No dad! No what if's, no plane crashes, and no damned hunts!" Mary asserts firmly. "You are both going to relax, and have fun!"
Both men nod in reluctant agreement, looking rather like chastised puppies, as the planes wheels screech on the blacktop.
As they file off the plane, and into their awaiting taxi, Mary inhales deeply. "I can smell the ocean!"
"I smell... Dirty Taxi." Sam scowls.
"Inhale the ocean, or I will kick your ass." Mary smiles sweetly.
"Fine!" Sam inhales through his nose, and continues sarcastically. "Smells like a tropical paradise."
"Damn strait." Mary nods firmly, and slides in the middle of the back seat.
As they ride, Dean nearly snaps his neck gawking at every bikini clad woman they pass on the street; a rotten grin creeping across his face. "This is might turn out to be fun after all."
"See, Uncle Dean is having a good time." Mary points out to a still sullen Sam.
They finally arrive at the hotel, and check in.
A few minutes later Dean drops the suitcases on the bed, and flops down beside them. "Why do I have to carry the luggage?"
"Because your demon strength has to be good for something." Mary snags her bathing suit out of her bag, and darts toward the bathroom. "Get changed! There's still half the day left, and I wanna hit the beach!"
As soon as the door slams behind Mary, Sam hunches over his smartphone, tapping away frantically.
"She's gonna catch you..." Dean warns.
"Nah, she's doing girly stuff, I've got at least ten minutes to-"
"Oh my god seriously dad?!" Mary emerges, snagging the phone out of his hand.
"I wanted to see what monsters are native to Hawaiian waters- just in case!" He defends, scrambling to reclaim his pilfered device.
"No excuses! You're grounded!" She shakes the phone at him, before shoving it in her purse. "This stays here, let's go!"
"You got in tro-ouble..." Dean sniggers, as they file out the door, eliciting a firm elbow to the ribs from his brooding brother.
As soon as they make it onto the beach Mary kicks her flip-flops across the sand. "Do you feel that sunshine?!" She sings, sliding her swim coverup over her head and tossing it gleefully behind her.
Sam and Dean lurch forward in unison, and Sam's face turns three shades of purple. "Where did you get that bikini?!" He nearly squeaks.
"Uncle Cas took me shopping." Mary replies offhandedly. "He felt bad that he couldn't come with us..."
She busies herself with rubbing a generous amount of sunscreen on her fair skin; blissfully ignorant of the ulcer forming in Sam's stomach as each moment passes.
Mary finally notices the uncomfortable silence, and looks up.
"What?" She inspects herself frantically, convinced that there must be some horrifying reason that her father and uncle are glaring at her. "What's wrong?"
Dean points at the two-piece suit like a tantrum-throwing child who doesn't want to use his words.
"I don't understand..." Mary's voice wavers, hurt welling up in her chest, "Uncle Cas thought it looked fine?"
"Uncle Cas is getting punched in the nose when I see him!" Dean blurts. "Put your dress thingy back on, you can't wear that in public!"
"What's wrong with it?" Mary balls her fists, as angry tears brim up in her eyes.
"It's... It's-" Sam runs his fingers through his hair, as words elude him.
"Indecent!" Dean finishes. "It's downright obscene!"
"It's just a regular bikini?" Mary replies, "Not even a thong?!"
"Yeah but you look... You look like a woman and it's-" Sam tries again, still unable to form a cogent argument.
"I don't know if you've noticed, dad, but I am in fact, female." Her voice jumps three octaves, and her stormy green eyes flash dangerously. "You're both gonna have to get used to that fact. I can't believe you're starting off our vacation by being giant babies."
Before either of them can reply, a tanned teenager with shoulder length brown hair jogs up to them, interrupting the confrontation. "Hey babe, are these geezers bothering you?"
"Excuse me?!" Dean hisses, squaring his shoulders defensively.
"No." Mary intervenes, still flustered, "T-This is my dad and uncle."
"Oh, okay." The kid shrugs. "Well we're starting a volleyball game up the beach, and we could use some more players, you in?"
"You know what? I would love to." Mary straitens her back and glares at Sam, daring him to object. "Be there in just a sec."
The boy runs back up the beach, and she turns to follow. "I'm going to play volleyball, you can sit here and think about what you've done."
She jogs off, leaving Sam and Dean standing confusedly on the beach.
"Did we just get put in time-out by your daughter?" Dean asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Eh, we probably deserved it." Sam sighs. "If anyone else had worn that same suit, we wouldn't have thought twice about it."
"But... But she's just a kid..." Dean frowns.
"Not really." Sam admits. "She's nearly seventeen, and she takes on more than most adults. She takes care of the house, works a full time job every summer... Hell she practically runs everything."
"Oh." Dean harries a crab that scuttles by, avoiding eye contact with his brother. "I really missed her growing up, huh?"
"Well you're here now." Sam slaps him on the shoulder, "I guess we should go apologize."
They trudge up the beach slowly, neither exactly eager to face up to the angry teenager.
"You know," Sam laughs, "I think I'm more afraid of her than I ever was of any monster."
"I can see why." Dean squints across the shimmering ocean pensively, "Teenage girls are terrifying. I've got not idea how you survived this long."
As they pass over the dune and into view of the game, Sam glares menacingly at the flock of boys surrounding Mary.
By virtue of common sense, and fear of another chewing out, he manages to refrain from being 'that dad' and kicking their collective asses.
Dean growls under his breath, but plops in the sand without causing a scene.
"You still on human blood?" Sam inquires offhandedly, parking beside his brother.
Dean nods, "Enough to keep me in my right mind. Gotta keep up some demon strength though; too many big league bad guys after me."
"Makes sense." Sam looks around nervously, expecting some unknown monster to pop out of the sand and swallow them whole.
"Hey, Dean?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks for looking after Mary while I was out of commission."
Dean scowls, uncomfortable as ever with emotional displays, "C'mon man, you know you don't havta'- I mean... Hell, she's family."
"Right." Sam nods. "Still though, thanks."
They both grow quiet, and Sam begins tracing symbols in the sand.
Dean watches him in a trance, drawn away into his own world.
A loud thud followed by several shrieks of shock and disbelief draw the brothers attention back to the volleyball game.
Mary stands livid amid a circle of murmuring onlookers, holding her loose bikini top together by the back laces.
The boy that had invited her to join his game is now curled up in the fetal position, groaning. "I think you broke my nose!"
"I fucking hope so!" Mary snarls, "Maybe you'll learn something!"
"What in hell happened?!" Sam growls, as he and Dean push through the crowd.
"This dick hole thought it would be funny to untie my top." Mary scowls, "I took care of it."
Dean's eyes flash black before he can stop himself, "I'm gonna rip your arms off, boy!"
The anger that rolls off him causes the onlookers to disburse, as he looms over the downed teen.
Sam stands at his brother's shoulder- angry, and unwilling to stop him.
Mary presses her free hand to Dean's chest, attempting to push him back, "I SAID I TOOK CARE OF IT!"
With some effort, he manages to control himself, and turn away, while Mary secures her top in place with an extra-violent double knot.
Sam doesn't take his eyes off the boy. His shoulders shake with anger, and he has to use every last ounce of willpower to keep from curb stomping him.
Mary makes her way back down the beach, toward where they started originally, and Sam finally turns away.
He catches up to her in a few easy strides, "I'm so sorry that happened, and I'm sorry your uncle and I made a big deal about your suit. There's nothing wrong with it. The truth is, we were worried about how boys like that would take advantage of you. I should have known better; you've always been able to take care of yourself. Besides, how you dress wouldn't have stopped that kid. He would have found some other idiot way to disrespect you. Everyone is so focused on showing girls how to avoid being victimized, they forget to teach boys like him not to victimize people, and that's pretty screwed up."
Mary smiles and wipes the tears off her cheeks. "Thanks dad."
"You want to go back to the hotel?" He asks, offering her his arm.
"Oh please." She sniffs, "If some dumb boy harassing me was enough to scare me into hiding, I'd never leave the house. I'm not fazed, okay? You'd be surprised how often stuff like this happens."
"Not anymore." Dean growls, his eyes still dark and empty. "No."
"Uncle Dean, I'm fine." She chuckles nervously, "Plus, I kicked his ass."
Dean doesn't answer, but the demon eyes flicker away, and his breathing slows.
"Hey! We haven't even been in the water yet!" Mary realizes, "Let's swim!"
Sam pulls his t-shirt off, eliciting some uncomfortable catcalls from a group of women sunbathing down the beach.
"Ooo dads got a fan club." Mary chortles.
"I'm waaaaay too old for them." Sam shakes his head, "Besides, you're the only gal I need."
"Wow, dad." Mary smirks, "Lame."
"Shut up." He flings his shirt into Mary's face, causing her to lose balance, and fall on her ass.
"Ruuuude!" She retorts, flinging a handful of sand at him, and taking off toward the water top speed.
Sam starts after her, and then turns back to Dean, "You comin'?"
"Nah." Dean motions to his jeans and boots, "Not really dressed for it."
"Mary'll pout." Sam points out.
"She'll live." Dean shrugs, then nods to the women who are still staring over at them, "Thought I might try my luck at fishing instead."
"I see that hasn't changed in seventeen years." Sam rolls his eyes, and makes his way toward his beckoning daughter. "See you in a bit."
"See ya." Dean winks, salutes, and turns on his heel toward the waiting flock of women.
...
As the sun sets, Mary and Sam cross the street back to their hotel.
"Shouldn't we try to find Uncle Dean?" Mary worries, "It's getting pretty late..."
"He'll probably be out all night." Sam shrugs. "It's pretty normal."
"But we don't even know where he is?"
"We probably don't want to know."
"Ah... Gross." Mary nods her understanding.
"Pretty much." Sam agrees.
A loud siren interrupts the conversation, as a cop car flies past them, nearly clipping Mary as she steps into the street.
Sam snags her by the waist, pulling her out of harms way, "What the-"
Mary's eyes widen, and Sam freezes, as the same thought hits them at once.
"Oh shit." Mary mouths, though no words form.
After a split second of indecision, they both take off toward the sound of the sirens.
It doesn't take long for them to find the trouble; the police car is parked only a few blocks up, in front of a classy looking beach house.
Sam straitens his back, and approaches the flashing lights, while Mary lingers behind.
"Gentleman," Sam addresses the two cops who are cordoning off the house with yellow tape, "Officer David Miller- off duty- can I offer my assistance?"
As the men continue to converse, Mary looks on nervously. Her attention is drawn to a half-covered body being carted out of the house.
"Dad-" She chokes, grabbing his sleeve and pointing at the boy on the gurney; the same boy she had clobbered earlier that day.
The officer speaking with Sam narrows his eyes, "You know this kid?"
Mary tries to speak, but her throat closes off in panic.
"Not personally," Sam explains, "I believe she met him in a volleyball game earlier today. They really hit it off...
If you don't mind me asking, how did he-"
The officer nods toward the body, "No official cause of death yet, but if I was a bettin' man I'd say blood loss. His arms were torn clean off. We won't know for sure until the autopsy report comes back."
Mary's stomach drops into her feet, as Deans words echo in her mind: "I'm gonna rip your arms off, boy!"
Sam catches the sick look on her face, and shifts the conversation, "Excuse me, gentleman, my daughter seems pretty shaken up about this. I'm going to get her back to the hotel."
He slides his arm around Mary, guiding her away from the crime scene firmly.
Once they are safely out of the officers hearing range, Mary looks up at Sam worriedly, "Dad, do you think-"
"No." Sam cuts her off, "Dean had control at the beach. If he went back later and killed that boy, it would have been premeditated. Dean is a lot of things, but he's not a murderer."
"But... dad you heard him... he said he was gonna rip that boys arms off." Mary twists her hair nervously.
"You haven't known him very long, Mary. I understand your doubt- but this wasn't Dean." He assures her.
Mary nods, but worry still contorts her features, "I hope he's okay."
They finally reach the hotel, and Mary drags into the room followed by Sam. "I still think we should call him..." Mary continues, flipping on the light, "Just to make sure he's okay. With our families luck it couldn't hurt to jus-" She stops short, and chokes down a startled cry.
Sam follows her gaze, until he spots Dean slumped in a chair next to the window; his head buried in his blood soaked hands.
"Dean, what in god's name happened?!" He drops down to eye level, and shakes him gently.
Dean mumbles into his palms, refusing to look up, "I think I killed that kid."