Unfortunately, my theological advisor is on vacation and I really, really wanted to post this chapter, so my apologies if anything is too 'off.' Charis-Kalos (who has been humbling editing the last few chapters), you're getting the character you wanted me to add! I hope you like him!!
Chapter Thirty-one
Dean felt amped up, on edge, inside the house. He kept peering out windows thinking he might catch a glimpse of something evil stalking them. So far – nothing. That was not reassuring.
"Dean? Would you relax?" Sam asked. Dean turned from the window to look at his brother. The utterly happy expression Sam usually had plastered all across his face lately had been replaced by familiar worry and concern. The change was not only welcome, but probably the best thing that happened since this whole mess started.
"I can't, Sam," he tried to explain. "I just feel like there's something out there."
A deep frown creased Sam's face. "Then let's go get it."
Dean shook his head, moving to block the door. "No, Sam. You're safer inside the house."
Sam's eyes hardened and narrowed. "I'm safer?" he asked in a soft, dangerous voice. "What's going on, Dean?"
He peered out the window again. That sense of danger which pulled him into the yard went away a while ago, but Dean just couldn't shake it. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "Maybe it was just a bad feeling."
"I doubt it," Sam replied, motioning to the dog. "Hillary has been on edge since we came inside. She won't even roll over so I can rub her belly."
"She feels guilty," Dean said. At Sam's puzzled expression, he explained, "Because she was too wrapped up in that belly rub to notice anything wrong outside."
A hint of a smile tugged at Sam's face. "So you talk to dogs now?" he asked softly.
"What?" Dean spun to face his brother. "Are you crazy?"
"How do you know the dog feels guilty, Dean?" Sam asked, more demanding this time.
"I-I…" Dean stammered, eyes darting wildly between Sam and the dog. Finally he thrust his hands out toward the dog. "She looks guilty."
Sam chuckled as he shook his head. "Dude, it's not the end of the world. I've always read that angels and animals had an innate affinity."
"Huh?" Dean stood blinking at his brother. There were WAY too many books in that boy's head.
"I'm just saying that it doesn't surprise me. We'll probably run across more things like this." Sam shrugged, his old smile, the one that wasn't happy-happy-joy-joy, spread slowly. "Not that I mind. It's really kind of cool."
He stared hard at his brother. Sam could still lie, but this didn't feel like a lie. Oh, God, was he a human lie-detector now too? "Bela called," he said instead of responding to that. Avoidance usually worked pretty well.
"Bela?" Now his brother seemed interested. "Did she say why she called? She didn't ask where we are, did she?"
Dean shook his head. "Nah, just something about needing help."
"And?" Sam scooted forward to sit on the edge of his seat. "Are we?"
Dean glared at his brother. "No. I told her to call a therapist if she was serious about wanting help."
Sam laughed, his voice ringing through the house. His head hung down and his shaggy hair bounced as he laughed. When Sam looked up there were tears of laughter in his eyes that he wiped away with his palms. "Dude," Sam breathed out roughly, "you'll never change."
Bobby, drawn by the laughter, stood in the doorway. "Good thing," he added, nodding.
Dean shrugged, really not getting the matching grins on their faces. Hillary lumbered over to sit on his right foot. She craned her neck all the way back to look at him. One hand reached down to rub her head while the other rubbed the back of his neck. "Anybody else hungry?" he asked, hoping to deflect this attention.
Bobby chuckled now. "Pizza? I know a good place that delivers."
"What do you say, girl?" he asked Hillary. The dog leaned heavily into his touch and Dean could almost feel her salivate at the thought of pizza. Dean looked back at Bobby. "She likes the all meat kind."
"Don't I know it," Bobby grumbled. "Damn dog usually steals at least one piece."
Dean winked at Hillary as he rubbed her ears. "Don't worry, I'll sneak you some of mine."
Sam laughed again. "Right. Don't listen to him, Hillary. He'll probably bite you if you get too close to his food."
Dean couldn't help but laugh with his brother, and it felt really good.
Bela scowled at her phone. She really thought that line about needing help would hook Dean. For a hunter he had a huge soft spot for people in trouble, not like that Walker guy. Dean thought she needed therapy? Ha. Hunters made her look positively normal. She just had the kind of job where she had to have contact with hunters, it was one of those job-related hazards that Bela had to deal with.
She pulled out her spirit board. Those Winchesters were supposed to have an amulet a certain client would pay really good money for. If they couldn't be convinced to part with it, then Bela might need to work a little harder. Jobs like this made her life interesting.
One of her lines when she didn't really want to help out was that sometimes the spirit world was in a chatty mood and sometimes it wasn't. That was a lie. There was always one spirit who would answer her. The face of her father floated out of the spirit realm to smile at her.
"How's my girl?" he asked, his voice rich and deep in her mind.
"Okay, Daddy. I need to find the Winchesters. They have a valuable amulet that they really aren't making the best use of." She smiled at the image of her father.
Her father's smile widened. "So they don't want to sell? That's my girl. I'll ask around."
His face disappeared from over the board. Bela waited impatiently. Time worked differently in the spirit world, it usually didn't take Daddy too long to get back to her. After twenty minutes she started to wonder. After an hour she worried. After two hours Bela called her father again. Could anything bad happen to him in the spirit world?
Her father's scowling face can into focus over her spirit board. "Sorry, baby," he said slowly, "no one here will tell me where the Winchesters are. They have some heavy duty protection these days. Maybe you should pass on this one."
Her jaw dropped. "Pass? Did you ever pass on a job, Daddy?"
His scowl deepened. "No. But I don't think I ever went up against this kind of protections either. If you're going to do this, it'll have to be my way."
She smiled at her father. "Okay, Daddy. I can do that."
"Be careful, Baby," he told her as he faded from sight. She needed several deep breaths before she could move from the table. Well, Bela liked a good challenge.
A knock sounded at the door. Bobby paused before answering. Dean appeared on the stairs, alert for the early morning hour and dressed except for his bare feet. He nodded at the door, so Bobby peered out the window. A man wearing jeans, rough outdoorsman shirt and boots stood there with his hands stuffed in his front pockets. Bobby pulled the door partially open.
"Can I help you?" he asked. Somehow he knew that Dean now stood only a few steps away, ready to jump in.
The man smiled at him and Bobby felt instantly at ease. "Are you Mister Singer?" he asked. "I was told I could find some friends here."
"Yeah?" Bobby might have felt at ease, but suspicion was more than just second nature to him. "And who might that be?"
"Well, actually, I'm looking for Dean Winchester." The man gave a shrug that might be off-hand or really good acting. "May I speak with him?" He craned his neck to look over Bobby's shoulder.
Bobby bristled. How could this guy know anyone was here? He reached for the shotgun behind the door with one hand, trying to look inconspicuous. He felt a hand grip his shoulder. Bobby looked back into Dean's bright green eyes. Even without the glow they seemed brighter these days.
"It's okay, Bobby," Dean breathed into his ear. "I can handle this." The boy pressed past him out the door, pulling it closed behind him. Bobby felt helpless just peering out through the window, watching.
"Bobby?" Sam's steps on the stairs were almost as quiet as his brother's. "What's going on?"
"Wish I knew, Sam," he admitted, still looking out the window at the two men on his front porch. At least it appeared to be a peaceful conversation. As Sam joined him at the window, Dean turned to face the stranger. Try as he might, Bobby could not hear a word the two spoke.
"Hear anything?" he whispered to Sam. It was probably just one of those annoying things about getting older, that his hearing was starting to go.
"No," Sam whispered. "I can't hear anything from outside."
Bobby frowned. Now that he paid attention to it, he realized that he couldn't hear anything from outside either. There was no sound of wind, cars going by on the road, or insects buzzing near the windows. "That's just weird," he hissed to Sam.
"Yeah. Welcome to my life," Sam muttered back darkly.
Startled, Bobby turned to look at Sam. Really look at him. "So the euphoria is wearing off?"
Sam shrugged. "It comes and goes," he said. "Mostly it comes, though." He grinned suddenly. "Like when I want to call you Uncle Bobby."
Bobby stared for a moment. "I'm growing a whole new level of respect for that brother of yours."
Sam's face fell. "Does that mean I can't call you Uncle Bobby?" he asked sadly.
Bobby shook his head. "Sam, you can call me Diana Ross if you want." The goofy smile returned. "Just do me a favor and don't call me Diana in front of that brother of yours."
Sam nodded enthusiastically. "But Uncle Bobby is okay, right?"
Bobby scratched at the whiskers on his cheek. "Uh…yeah. That's fine."
Sam beamed until his gazed fell on the scene of Dean speaking with that man outside. The old Sam, the one that worried until he brooded, returned. "I really don't like this. I'm going out there." Those eyes bored into him. "Mind if I borrow a shotgun, Uncle Bobby?"
Bobby wanted to laugh but he couldn't, something felt off to him too. He just handed over his shotgun and hoped Sam wouldn't need it. Sam opened the door, the shotgun held tight in one hand. The boy pulled the door to, but not closed.
"Dean?" Sam said, moving to stand just to his brother's side. It was pretty clear from his stance that it was a protective move. "What's going on?"
"Hey, Sam," Dean said easily. "This is Ralph. Ralph, my brother, Sam."
"Pleasure." Ralph held out a hand. "You always carry a shotgun outside?" He smiled and for some reason Bobby was reminded of Michael.
"Only when I'm worried about my brother," Sam replied, not shaking hands.
"Dude," Dean said softly, "you're being rude."
Sam gave his brother a nasty look, but then he shifted the shotgun to his left hand so he could shake Ralph's outstretched hand.
"That's Bobby hiding behind the door. I think you already met, though," Dean said. Bobby stepped out into the stranger's view.
Ralph held out a hand. "Pleasure," he repeated.
Bobby nodded in response as he reached for the offered hand. When he grasped it, a quick shock ran through him. Bobby yanked his hand back as if it had been burned.
"Sorry about that, Mister Singer," Ralph apologized. "I'm afraid it's an occupational hazard."
"How's that?" Bobby asked, massaging his tingling hand.
"Ralph works with Mike and Gabriel," Dean explained.
"Ralph?" Sam asked. "I never heard of an angel named Ralph."
"Yes you have," Bobby said slowly as he studied what appeared to be a man standing on his porch. "Rapheal, right?"
The man's smile was blinding. "You're as good as Dean says," he replied with a short bow.
Bobby tipped his cap. "And you're my favorite angel."
"Why is that?" Dean asked, turning to face Bobby.
"Raphael helps folks take down demons," Bobby said.
Dean nudged Sam with his elbow. "I knew I liked him."
"Is there anyone you don't like these days?" Sam asked in a pissy voice.
"This coming from you? Mister sunshine with rainbows shooting out your ass?" Dean demanded.
Raphael laughed. "I can see working with you two is going to be just as much fun as I heard."
"Why are you here?" Sam demanded, shifting the shotgun to his right hand.
"You do realize rocksalt won't work on me?" Raphael asked. Dean and Sam shrugged in unison. "There is a demon tracking Sam," he said, "and we think someone has been asking the spirits of people who have crossed over for your location."
"The demon tracking Sam?" Dean stepped forward, placing his body between Sam and Raphael. "It's been asking about our location?"
"We don't think so," Raphael replied. "Demons have their own ways of tracking humans. Whoever he is, he's probably human."
"He?" Bobby asked.
"In the English language, he is used as a generic term," Sam said before Raphael had a chance to open his mouth. Raphael nodded affirmatively in Sam's direction.
Raphael cleared his throat. "I have to be going, but I wanted to give you a heads-up, Dean. Oh, and congratulations on the new job."
Dean nodded quickly. "Sorry you can't stay, Ralph." Dean's voice said that Raphael had already overstayed his welcome.
"Right." Raphael gave them a parting smile before walking away. "I'll get back to you on that other business later." Before Bobby's amazed eyes, Raphael dissipated into the stacks of cars.
"Dean? What new job?" Sam stared at his brother. Bobby decided that now might be a good time to go inside.