Chapter 12

It took more effort than usual, but Dean managed to push his irritation away. How could Sam think that they needed to split up? He kicked at a rock in the parking lot, shoving his anger toward it. It shot out from under his foot, ricocheted off two cars scratching the paint and leaving dents, and imbedded into the wall of the diner. Damn. He took a deep breath before facing his brother in the parking lot, really hoping Sam hadn't noticed that. It would no doubt go on that stupid list.

Sam appeared distracted and worried. "Sam?"

His brother spun to face him, clearly startled. Dean glared around the parking area suspiciously. What did Sam say before, that he could see angel tracks? Why couldn't he do that? He was the one with the freaky angel powers. Why couldn't he just be like Batman? No powers, just dedication and more money than god. He shot a glance skyward, wincing. Hopefully The Big Guy wouldn't take offense to that.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed. "I, uh, didn't see you there. Ready? All done? Were you able to make them feel better?"

"Yeah, it was just this silly…" He stopped mid-sentence. Make them feel better? "What's that supposed to mean? Make them feel better?"

"Oh, uh, nothing." Sam shrugged, pulling open the passenger door. "I was just thinking that maybe that was the whole point. You know, of your abilities. You're supposed to make people feel better."

"Specifically people who are freaking out, huh?" Dean shook his head. Yep, this day just kept getting better and better. He slid behind the wheel. "What made you think of that?"

Sam shrugged again as he sat in the passenger seat. "Well, it does make sense," Sam pointed out. "Kinda like you're a morale officer or something."

Dean couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "Morale officer? Dude, I think you may be reaching with that one." He turned the key, enjoyed the sound of his engine as it roared to life.

"Dean? Have you tuned up the car lately?"

Since they were still safely in park, Dean looked over at his brother. "What? You think I'm sneaking out at night while you're sleeping to work on my car?"

Sam's serious face dropped, replaced with a small grin. "Well, I wouldn't put it past you."

"Yeah, well, maybe," Dean shrugged, putting it in reverse, "but I didn't."

"Then why does it sound better?" Sam asked, tapping the dash.

"Excuse me?" Dean stopped the car, shoving it into drive. "What are you talking about?"

"The car, Dean." Sam acted like Dean was being obtuse on purpose. Whoa, was he freaking channeling Sammy now? Who the hell used the word 'obtuse' anyway?

"What about it?" Dean demanded.

"It sounds better. Smoother or something." Sam said, one finger jabbing at the dash like Dean was supposed to understand.

Dean listened carefully. The Impala sounded like she always did – sweet. What was Sam going on about? "Sammy? You feeling all right?"

Sam heaved a deep sigh. "Nevermind." He was allowed about twenty minutes of peaceful silence, punctuated periodically by something bugging the fire out of Sam.

"Sam?" Dean decided to risk a glance at his brother. "Something eating you?"

"Huh?" Sam looked startled, enough that Dean wished he had done it on purpose. "What do you mean?"

"What's going on, Sam?" Dean asked, suspicious now.

"Well, I was just thinking," Sam began and Dean had the distinct feeling he did not want to hear this, "maybe there is a way out of this for you."

"Out of being a morale dude?" Dean asked, hoping that was the part Sam meant and not that his moronic brother was suggesting they split up again.

"Yeah. I mean, if you think about it, the only reason it happened in the first place was because you wouldn't back down to Mike." Sam used that ultra-calm voice, the one he always had when delivering bad news.

"And?" Dean ground out, a really bad feeling settling around him.

"Well, I was just thinking, if you were to, you know, back down," Sam suggested in that same ultra-calm, far-too-reasonable voice.

"Forget it," Dean snapped.

"Come on, Dean. That's just your ego getting in the way. Don't tell me you're enjoying burping babies." Sam said with a shake of his head. "Because I won't believe you."

"Good," Dean muttered, because he had no intention of saying any such thing. Okay, so the kid was cute, but weren't all babies cute? Wasn't that evolution making sure you didn't dump your kid in the nearest river the first time he screamed too loud? And yeah, okay, he got this huge rush every time he helped someone, but that was perfectly normal. So what if he felt so good not even Mike really bugged him right afterwards? There was nothing wrong with that. To be honest, he was having a damn near impossible time keeping a big old goofy grin off his face all the time these days. He helped about three people today and felt so good Dean was afraid he was going to burst and this good feeling was going to just pour out all over the place.

"Then why are you smiling?" Sam demanded in his lawyer voice. Damn it. Dean made damn sure that smile went away.

"Shut up," Dean snapped, eyes on the road.

"Dean?" Sam had that irritating tone in his voice again. Great. Now what? "You're not serious." He felt Sam turn in the seat to face him. "Dean!"

Dean shook his head, refusing to answer.

"Come on, man. If you'd just back down to Michael then all these freaky angel abilities would go away," Sam explained.

"You sound pretty sure of that, Sam," Dean realized. "How can you be positive that would work?"

"Well, it stands to reason," Sam replied, settling back into the seat and looking out front again.

Dean frowned. He felt that Sam was hiding something. "Mike came to talk to you while I was in that diner, didn't he?"

Sam sighed. Yep, he was right. "He said that it was the best alternative he could come up with, whatever that's supposed to mean."

The words stabbed. He had saved Sam from that demon, not to mention all the other nasties who felt compelled to go after his brother. There was no way some self-righteous angel was going to make threats like that. Dean hit the gas, speeding toward an open area up ahead. There it was, a pocket park rest area just off the road. A loud squeal came from the tires as they protested the abuse Dean laid on them now. No way was he putting up with this kind of crap!

He leaped out of the car, glaring around at anyone who might be so foolish as to look his way. "Mike!" he shouted at the air in front of him. "Get your cowardly ass over here!" Dean had no way to call Mike like Sam did. At least, he hoped he didn't. "Mike!"

A large figure stepped out from behind a tree deep in the park area. Dean recognized it instantly and headed that way. He knew Sam was only a few steps behind him. He ground his teeth together, attempting to contain the emotions boiling within him. When he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder, more comforting than restraining, he knew Sam could tell.

"Mike," Dean snarled, "what's the big idea?"

Mike's eyes widened innocently. "What big idea, Dean?"

Dean moved faster than even he thought possible, shoving Mike in the chest. "You don't talk to Sam alone." He shoved again. "Ever."

"Uh, Dean?"

"Shut up, Sam," Dean snapped, not bothering to look at his brother's confusion. He focused on Mike. "You got something to say to me, you say it to me. Got it?"

Mike glared past Dean. "Big mouth."

Dean shoved Mike in the chest again. "Back off, dude," he warned.

Mike glowered at Dean, his eyes taking on a faint blue glow so Dean knew he had probably pushed Mike far enough. Not that it would really make a difference, mind you. He stood right up to Mike, doing the exact opposite of what he knew Mike wanted. Mike looked away, refusing to maintain eye contact. Dean suspected if Mike accepted the new challenge and Dean won, something else would happen. Whatever.

Lightning crackled through the air, causing a rippling sensation along his skin and all the hair on the back of his neck to stand straight out. A second bolt streaked from a cloudless sky to strike the ground at Mike's feet.

"Fine," Mike said with a snarl, taking a step back, "but that means he's your responsibility."

"Always has been," Dean snapped.

"If it happens again, the others won't hesitate, Dean," Mike warned him, shaking his head but still refusing to make eye contact. "They'll go right through you if they have to." He headed behind a tree where Dean knew he would not come back out.

"Dean?" Sam was at his shoulder now. "What the hell was all that about?"

"Don't worry about it," Dean replied, heading back to the car.

"Dean!" Heavy footsteps pounded behind him. Sam's hand grasped his shoulder again, but this time with more purpose. Dean paused, hoping Sam would not ask a question he could not answer. "What was that? The others? What others?"

"Sam," Dean sighed, "for a bright guy, you can be really dense."

Sam's eyes softened. "You mean, the others like Mike?" Sam nodded as though he understood, but then he asked, "But they won't hesitate to do what?"

Dean shook his head, pulling out of Sam's grasp. They were not having this conversation. "We need to go, Sam. That spirit in Seattle won't wait forever."

"Won't wait?" Sam asked as they neared the car. "What do you mean, won't wait? Can you tell if it has gone after anyone else?"

Dean glared at his brother, wondering how the hell Sam's mind worked. The instant that thought crossed his mind, however, he saw a deep room filled with books and filing cabinets, like a private library. A chalkboard, the kind they used in classrooms, stood in the middle with questions and a list of possible answers appearing on it. Damn, Sam even thought in lists? He shook his head to clear it.

Sam's concerned eyes were on him when he opened his eyes. "Dean? You okay? You don't have a headache or anything do you?"

Dean shook his head again. "Let's just hit the road, Sam." He tossed his keys in his hand as he pulled open the driver's door.

In the car, Dean noticed Sam chewing his lower lip as he turned the motor over. He resisted asking if Sam was all right, because he knew there was nothing physical bothering his brother.

"It's because of me, right?" Sam asked quietly before Dean could put his car in gear. "They're all mad at you."

"Don't worry about it, Sam," Dean stated firmly. "It's not like it's the first time I ticked off a whole group."

"But Dean," Sam's voice went up, like, an octave. "You've never ticked off angels before."

"Says who?" Dean demanded, tossing Sam a strong look. "Seriously, Sam. We've managed to make a lot of, uh, individuals pretty upset over the past few years. Who's to say a few angels haven't been in there somewhere? I mean, I haven't exactly been a religious person you know." He chuckled. "That was you."

Sam nodded sadly. "And now there are angels who want to kill me. Irony really is a bitch, isn't it?"

Dean nodded, backing the car out and easing her back onto the road. "A cold-blooded bitch, little brother."

Sam cleared his throat. "I, uh, wouldn't give you up, either." Dean felt his brother's eyes on him. "You do know that, right?"

Dean allowed his lips to curl up slightly. "Yeah, I know." The intense feelings of relief from his right were almost too much, but Dean pretended to ignore it. He had trouble ignoring the grin on his face now, though. At least he knew Sam had no plans to leave, at least not for a while. They did have that spirit in Seattle to deal with after all.

For anyone following this and not following Murphy's Law, this will probably be my last posting of L&D until December. I am doing National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) for my third year during which I will attempt to write 50k words in 30 days of original fiction. Obviously the fanfics must go on the backburner during this period. I am attempting to leave them both in a nice place until my return to fanfic in December. Thanks again to all you oddballs following this! (The harassments and Misery threats may return in December!!)