Chapter Thirty-two

Dean looked downright guilty as Bobby slipped back inside the house. Sam glared at his brother, determined to know what the hell was going on now.

"Look, Sam, it isn't that big of a deal," Dean protested, hands spread wide. "Honest."

"Maybe not to you," Sam replied, doing his damnedest to keep his voice calm, "but it might be to me."

Dean's eyes rolled. When they settled, Sam noticed that even though they were not glowing they seemed to be more. Whether they were more green, intense, hard or strong he couldn't say, but those eyes were definitely compelling. "Sam, I swear, it's barely a step up from morale."

Then Dean froze. He stared down at his stomach before his eyes drifted toward the horizon. "Crap!" He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and raced for the car.

Sam kept up easily, his longer strides making up for his brother's head start. He slipped into the passenger seat as Dean started the car. That was when he noticed that his brother had not bothered to put on shoes yet.

"Uh, Dean? You're still barefoot."

"No kidding, genius!" Dean snapped as the big car came to life with a louder than usual roar. Tires spun as Dean slammed it into reverse, a dust cloud kicking up around them. The shift into drive was not smooth either, and Sam was slammed into the seat.

He waited until they were on the road, going well over the speed limit, before speaking again. "I think you have an old pair of boots in the trunk," Sam offered.

"Well I'm not pulling over to put them on," Dean said with a snarl, "we don't have time."

"Okay." Sam settled into the seat. "So where are we going?"

"This way." The engine gave another roar as Dean pressed harder on the accelerator.

Sam rolled his eyes at the landscape flashing past. "Can you at least tell me why we're in such a hurry?"

Dean's jaw clenched, muscles jumping in his cheek, but he didn't offer anything else. Okay, that probably meant big brother didn't know either. Sam decided he had to wait it out. They slowed down near a bridge. Dean spun the wheel, the car swerving as they ran off the road. They stopped in a dust cloud right before the hard packed dirt dropped off into the ravine below. Sam followed his brother's mad dash out of the car. Without slowing, Dean dove off the side of the ravine.

His heart slamming into his ribcage, Sam raced to the edge. Dean's body sailed through the air toward the swollen, rapid water below. After his brother disappeared with a splash, Sam tore down the side of the ravine. Near the bottom he encountered two young teens yelling at the water.

"Steve! Steve!"

"What's going on?" Sam demanded.

One of the teens jumped at the sound of his voice. "Our friend is down there," he said on the verge of tears.

"What happened?" Sam asked, his eyes scanning the water. Still no sign of Dean.

"We dared him to swim across," the other boy said, barely more composed than his friend. "I didn't think he'd really do it. I figured he'd chicken out."

Sam groaned as he made his way past the kids toward what normally would be a shallow, calm ravine. Today it resembled more of a river raging its displeasure at restrictive confinements. About fifty feet on the other side of the bridge, he saw something dark and oval pop above the water's surface. Breathing with relief, Sam ran along the concrete bank toward it.

The head bobbed along, growing in size until Sam could see that his brother dragged something through the water with him. He waded out as deep as he could without succumbing to the torrential current. When Dean was close, Sam helped haul the unconscious boy out of the water.

"Come on," Dean muttered, shaking the boy's shoulders, "breathe. Breathe."

"Do the glowing thing," Sam suggested.

Dean rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath before laying his hands on the boy's chest. "I said breathe!" he muttered as soft white light soaked through the kid's clothes.

Within moments the boy coughed. Sam helped roll him on his side. He coughed again, sputtering out ravine water. Next came whatever the kid had for breakfast followed by a series of dry heaves. Sam looked pleadingly at Dean, but his brother shook his head. The teen's friends hovered over him with a mixture of shock and relief. Then the boy sat up.

Dean leaned right into the kid's face, a soft green lighting his eyes. "You do know how stupid that was, don't you?" he asked softly, but the tone in his voice sent cold shivers down Sam's spine.

The kid nodded slowly. "Yes, sir," he said in a rough voice, "won't happen again."

"It better not." Dean pointed a finger in the teen's face. "Because next time, there won't be anyone hanging around to save your sorry ass."

The boy's eyes widened. Sam guessed he could see the glow now. He swallowed hard and nodded again.

"And you two," Dean stood, shaking the excess water out of his short hair, "you idiots can take him home and explain, exactly, what happened to his parents. Got me? Or do I need to do it for you?"

Both boys shook their heads. "No, no, we'll do it. Honest."

Dean glared at them until the ground at their feet became very interesting. "Then we're done here. Come on, Sam."

Sam followed his brother back up to the car. Dean dug a worn and faded towel he liked to use for washing the Impala out of the trunk. He folded it and laid it in the driver's seat before sitting down. Sam sat in his usual spot.

"New job?" he asked softly before Dean could turn the key.

The engine caught smoothly, the roar from earlier replaced by machine precision. "Yeah."

Dean wanted to turn on some music in an attempt to drown out the upcoming conversation, but he figured that would only be delaying the inevitable. He chose to go ahead and get it over with now, if Sam asked. Of course Sam would ask, Dean realized, the kid was probably totally freaked.

"At the grocery store, you saved a kid who tried to run out in front of a car, right?" Sam asked. Dean did not make eye contact, but he gave a quick nod as he pulled on to the road. "And now you raced out here to save a kid from drowning." Sam's fingers drummed an odd rhythm on the dash, above the hand imprints. "So I'm guessing your job now is to save people from trying to off themselves by their own stupidity?"

Dean swallowed the dry lump in his throat. Sammy was unbelievably smart. "You're close."

"So?" He felt Sam turn in the seat to look at him. "What is it?"

Dean shrugged. "I try to save kids who are about to die from something stupid."

"Try to?" Sam asked and Dean could hear the incredulity in his brother's voice. "What do you mean, try to?"

Dean sighed as he made the turn toward Bobby's. "Come on, Sam, there's no way I could possibly save every kid who either tries something stupid or is the victim of stupidity. I'd never get any sleep. Basically, if I'm in the area I'll know about it and I can do my best."

"Is that what Raphael came to talk to you about?" Sam asked. That kid was too damn smart for his own good.

"Yeah. With this new job, people can die, kids. Ralph wanted to prepare me for that." Dean rolled his eyes. "Like I hadn't already been dealing with that for years."

Sam snorted. "No kidding."

They rode the rest of the way to Bobby's in comfortable silence. Dean figured Sam needed time to wrap his head around the new job, and decide how best to help Dean out with it. He hoped Sam banked on basically what just happened, being there and providing crowd control. Not that two teenagers constituted a crowd, but if it made Sam feel useful, and prevented him from needing to save two more kids, then he'd take it.

He turned the key and his baby hummed gently as the engine shut down. Yeah, she sounded pretty sweet.

"Dean?"

Now what? "Yeah, Sam?" He glanced over at Sam's serious face, the one his brother got researching a hunt or arguing with Dad.

"Can I borrow the car?" Sam stared right at him. "I want to go pick up a few things in town."

"Uh…sure. Okay. Want me to come with you?" He stared in disbelief at his brother. Was this so different from morale officer that Sam needed to be alone to deal?

Sam shook his head. "Nah, it's no big deal. I'll be back before you know it. Besides, this way you and Bobby can finish your talk from last night."

Dean started. "What talk?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Please, Dean, I know both of you better than that! When I get back, I expect you two to be done bitching about the euphoria thing. And you can tell Uncle Bobby I said that." A broad grin, complete with dimples, spread across Sam's face.

"Uncle Bobby?" Dean chuckled, marveling at his brother's ability to adapt. "Yeah, I'll do that."