Title: Under the Influence of Djinn
Chapter: Five
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

Gwen presented the information to Dean at breakfast the next morning, going through it with him over doughnuts and coffee. He spent more time looking at her than the papers. His stare was unnerving and she finally stared back and asked, "What?" He appeared to be trying to see right through her, if that intense stare was any indication. It was far worse than when Christian got to that stony angry phase about something or other.

"Nothing." Flipping a page, he looked down at it. "It's all wrong."

"Wrong? How so?" She put a jelly filled doughnut on her paper plate and added more sugar to her coffee. Christian always told her it wasn't good for her to have as much sugar as she liked in her coffee, that it'd make her jittery. Christian often teased her if she'd like 'some coffee with her sugar'. Dean didn't appear to notice the many packets of sugar she'd already used. It was a nice change of pace since Sam had jumped on that bandwagon too. It'd be nice to have another person who wasn't a health nut around. Christian and Sam alone were fine, but put them together and they sucked all the fun out of eating. "I looked through all the names and dates. Everything matches."

"Never mind." He took a drink of his coffee.

"Dean, come on. What's all wrong? I can't do anything about it if you don't tell me what's wrong in this. There're other sites I can try and we can always do it the old fashioned way."

"I'm not talking the papers here, although they're kind of hinkey too."

"Does this have something to do with the dream the Djinn gave you?"

He flipped another page. "Maybe, but something doesn't feel right here, with us."

"What do you want us to do? We've already done all the tests, including a couple I'd never heard of, and we're trying to keep our distance because Sam advised us to for now. I'm not sure what else we can do except talk and get to know each other, which should take care of -."

"You ever get into a situation where your gut is screaming something is off, but you can't quite put your finger on it?"

"Sure." She sat back. Sam had mentioned that Dean's gut feelings were something to be trusted and her own instincts were telling her to listen to him. "It's a feeling we learn to trust as we get better at hunting."

"That's what I've got right now. Something about this, about us five, is wrong and I'm not just talking about Castiel being missing. Do you not feel it?"

Gwen thought about it. There were a few things that had been bothering her, yet nothing that sent alarm bells screaming. They were more like little weird moments of strangeness. "Well…. I've always wondered how we managed to come upon Sam and it's sure some mighty coincidence that we're related. Not to mention that we were all drawn back into the life fairly recently, like -."

"It's a set-up?" His brows rose with the question, then slid back down. He raised a finger. "First rule: it's never a coincidence. These things don't just happen, Gwen. There's more going on behind the scenes than most people understand."

He sort of sounded like a conspiracy theorist except she believed every word herself. There was more going on. As hunters, they should be more aware of that fact than other people. "Maybe it was just God, looking out for Sam. He said it had happened before with both of you."

His glance told her he thought her naïve for that idea.

"Okay, maybe not. Thought I'd throw out that theory. What do you think?"

Dean finished the last bit of doughnut before replying. "I think someone manipulated you three into finding him and…How sure are you that Christian and Mark are Christian and Mark?"

"Positive. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. You've done the tests yourself."

"Can't be too careful."

"No, but you can become too paranoid."

"No you can't. Not when everything and everyone really is out to get you. You can't think in terms of being too paranoid as a hunter. You're either paranoid or you're dead. You know that. You have to to have made it this far."

She nodded, acknowledging that he was right. There had to be a certain level of paranoia and maybe if she, Mark, and Christian had stayed paranoid instead of growing complacent, the people they'd loved and cared for would still be alive. Dean and Sam had had Djinn watching them for a long time and she knew there were plenty of other creatures that wanted a piece of the Winchester brothers. They had a right to be paranoid. "What could be wrong? Do you have any ideas?"

Sitting back, he tossed the papers on the table. "Don't know. Could be not any of us specifically, but something around us."

"Like what? We killed the Djinn."

"Lots of things, Gwen. Like maybe there are demons listening in. Or angels. Angels can stand right out of sight and listen to everything we say and we'd never know it."

"I didn't even know they really existed until Sam confirmed it."

"Neither did I until Cas pulled me from hell." He glanced towards the window. "We need to put up an angel sigil to keep them out." With a frustrated sigh, he shook his head. "I don't want to keep Cas from finding us though." He tapped a finger on the table. "It could be something on the way. I don't think Death would bother, he'd just show up and be cryptic before pushing things how he wants them."

"You know Death?"

"Sure. And a reaper."

Somehow, she wasn't surprised. Not with all Sam had shared. "Oh. So, not him probably. Maybe an angel or demon -"

"Pagan god or goddess." He went through a meandering list of creatures that seemed a few verbal miles long, ending with, "Could even be witches. They try to get their skeevy hands into everything."

When Sam had told her they'd made a lot of enemies, she'd had no idea the list was that long. "No way to narrow that list."

"Not yet. Whatever it is, it's something that found out who you all are to us and got us together."

"Does it have to be a bad thing," she ventured with a shrug.

"When things manipulate our lives in specific ways like this it usually is." He crumpled the cup, laying it on top of the paper plate his breakfast had been on. "They all act like we're chess pieces on some damn cosmic board."

"I don't think of this as bad, Dean. You're sort of a legend, you and Sam. Some have even thought you're not real, just myths, like, I don't know, like the knights of the round table or something." Gwen tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Myths, huh."

"Yeah. You know, maybe what you're feeling…it's simpler than any of that. Maybe you're having an emotional reaction to almost dying and there's nothing wrong. Have you considered that?"

With an annoyed scowl, he jabbed a finger at her. "I'm not rusty."

"I didn't say that. Could have sworn we just discussed your ideas on what could be going on. I was only putting out a different idea. I'm open to the possibility of some cosmic strings being pulled by someone, but what you're feeling could also be a reaction to what happened. Just consider it, okay?"

He stood, shaking his head. "I've come close to dying before and actually died a ton of times. This is real."

She held up her hands and let him have the conversation. "If you feel so strongly about it, then what do you want to do? Give me a place to start and we'll get on it."

Gwen had the feeling that she'd shocked him somehow and wasn't sure what she'd done. She waited for his response.

What did he want to do?

Dean pondered that question. It was almost surreal that Gwen appeared to be deferring to him on this, like she expected him to take charge and give her orders like a general or something. Was she right? He had to consider her idea as well as his own because he knew it could happen. Was he seeing what wasn't there and this was a simple reaction? A little PTSD? Was he letting the Djinn dream cloud reality?

Leaving the table and going to the window, he looked out at the parking lot. He hated this feeling he was having of being off-kilter. He was afraid and was mixing up the people in his dream with the ones right here with him, judging them on those twisted actions in the dream. Dean realized he was even doing it with Sam, looking at him as if he was the strange Sam who'd been raised without a soul and not the brother who'd come running the second he'd gotten his memories back.

He needed to put the dream aside and let it go. Why couldn't he? Why was he holding on to it? Why was it so much easier to think of them as those people in the dream?

Because he didn't have to think about those people. He'd known those versions and already done the getting to know you bit and been screwed by them. With the people here, he'd have to do it all over again and hope that he didn't get screwed over this time.

Because the Djinn had tapped into his greatest fears. Those fears were a part of him, always there under the surface. He feared betrayal by his family, feared that there was something wrong with Sam, feared he'd be a terrible father. These were the things that got deep under his skin.

Those were the things the Djinn had sussed out and used against him and Dean hated that vulnerability.

Turning back to Gwen, he studied her. The real woman was rather different in some ways than her dream counterpart. This woman wouldn't blindly follow an order. He could see that in her eyes. She'd make damn sure whatever order he gave made sense before going about it. She wasn't a frustrated hunter stuck in the back with the rejects, put there by Samuel. This woman wouldn't take that sort of crap.

"How long have you been hunting, Gwen?"

"Longer than I thought I'd live through."

An answer any of them could give. He nodded. "I hear you."

"Not many of us manage to get out and stay out, but after the demon took everything, I decided to do it on my terms. I'd hunt what I wanted to hunt the way I wanted to hunt it until I found that demon and killed it. Then I'd think about other things."

"Yet you're asking me for a direction."

She shrugged, the tiny curl of a smile on her lips. "Sam says you're a good man to follow and I trust him. Besides, I think I like you."

"God help me."

Gwen laughed at that. "You've danced this dance, walked this walk, and if I can learn a few things from you, I will. But if you don't want me here, I'll leave. Simple as that. I don't stay where I'm not wanted. Say the word and I'm out of here."

"And Christian and Mark?"

"You'd have to have this conversation with them. I think they'd leave if you didn't want them around. It'd be a shame though, since there's no more of us. I sort of wish we could have met you and Sam years ago. Would have been nice to know you sooner."

He was starting to agree, finding himself liking Gwen. "Okay. Keep an eye out. Keep it quiet. Let me talk to Christian and Mark."

There was a knock on the door and he stepped over, opening it. Speak of the devil, Dean thought. Mark stood there.

"I smell Krispy Kreme," Mark asked. He looked like he'd just woken up and not bothered to comb his hair or change clothes.

"Told you," Gwen called out.

Dean opened the door a bit wider to let him by. "Gwen did warn me."

"Did she now? I gotta have me some Krispy Kreme." He laid a battered spiral notebook on the bed and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You know the trains that go through this town are awesome?"

"Oh, geez," Gwen commented as she cleaned up the table. "I thought you were sleeping, not train gazing."

"I needed to relax." He snagged a doughnut.

"Relax?" Dean shut the door. "How is that relaxing? For that matter, how is it awesome?"

"Those trains have gone all over the U.S.."

"My car has gone all over the U.S.. I don't see you wanting to sit and watch it drive by."

"Fantastic graffiti and it's soothing. The rumble of the train on the tracks, the wail of the whistle. Some day, I'm going to travel across the country only by train. My girlfriend and I always…." He stopped before finishing that sentence, frowning and shoving half the doughnut in his mouth.

The way he did it and his expression told Dean a wealth of information, like how fresh the emotional wound still was. Couldn't be much over a year or so. "How long ago," he asked.

"Fifteen months," Gwen answered for Mark. "It was fifteen months for her and sixteen for their son. Fourteen for the rest."

"The rest?"

Mark swallowed the bite. "Some day when I've had too much to drink I'll fill in the details for you, Dean. It's not something I want to go over sober." He reached for the notebook, flipping open to a page near the back and laying it on the table. "You two should look at this. I've got a couple potential cases, nothing major, but they'd test us out as a team, let us feel each other out for how we all like to work. Ghost in Missouri and what may or may not be another ghost in Kentucky."

"Assuming Sam and I want to stick with you all."

"Either way is fine by me, but keep in touch if you want the latter."

"Why should we keep in touch?"

Mark glanced at Gwen. "As few of us seem to be out there these days, it'd be good to have some sort of network again."

Dean returned to the table and slid the notebook over to look at what Mark had written. "As few of us?" His handwriting was small and cramped, hard to read.

"Didn't Sam tell you? A lot of hunters are gone. Dead or disappeared. That mess about a year ago killed quite a few. Over half my contact list was gone when Gwen, Christian, and I started making calls. Same with their contact lists. Haven't you tried to check in with anyone the past couple days?"

"No. Sam didn't say anything and no, I haven't tried calling anyone."

He began to do just that after Sam and Christian got back and it was only he and Sam in the room. As he spoke to people, he was able to start eliminating names based on the conversations. The only person he didn't ask about and number he didn't try was Bobby's, half afraid Bobby was gone.

"Did you know," he asked while Sam finished dressing.

"Know what?"

"About the hunters that are gone."

His nod was slow. "I knew there were a lot out of touch, but I haven't tried anyone."

"Not even Bobby?"

Sam shook his head. "Not even. First priority was getting to you. I figured I'd call him or something later. Let you tell him I'm back and okay maybe. He's liable to hang up if he hears my voice."

"That he is. Liable to ask me what the hell I did this time to get you topside, too." Definitely precedence for that question. He thought a moment about the two hunts Mark wanted them to all go on. "What say we let the cousins go on about a hunt and the two of us head over and see Bobby for a couple days?"

Sam paused in putting on a button-down shirt over his t-shirt. "We should. He'll want to know and won't appreciate it if we wait too long."

The cousins, however, were willing to pass the two hunts on to another hunter and follow Dean and Sam, caravan-style, across the country to South Dakota. Dean wondered why they were so willing to do that, but put it down to them, possibly, honestly wanting to spend time to get to know him better. Gwen seemed to, as did Mark. He had trouble thinking that Christian might want to know anyone, dick he still seemed to be, yet conceded to himself that he was being unfair.

Traveling in a caravan was even a little fun, though he didn't admit it out loud. Sam and Christian looked over the maps when they stopped, checking their route while Mark mostly stayed in the car and wrote in a notebook, and Gwen…. Gwen had fun. It got so Dean would watch her whenever they stopped. She'd talk to anyone and, at one tourist place, tried on the goofy hats one by one and made faces up at the security mirror that ringed the store.

At their current stop, the sheer size of the slushie she bought impressed him. "You could drown in that," he told her.

"I can think of worse ways to go than drowning in delicious, sugary goodness. Grab a cup. I'll buy you one. Cherry, blue stuff, or plain, boring soda one?"

"Cherry. It's a classic."

"Yes, but with the blue stuff, I can get it all over my lips as well as tongue, close my eyes, and wait for Christian to look over and think I've choked on something and died."

He smothered a laugh. "Kind of mean, Gwen." A little funny, but mean.

"He should know better, he's a freakin' doctor. Ain't no way a slushie is taking me out. You'd think he'd remember the joke by now, but he falls for it every single time. So, if you suddenly see the car behind you swerve off the road, it's just him making Mark climb in back to check for my pulse." She paid for their drinks and headed to the car.

Dean followed her out onto the sidewalk.

Christian approached from inside the store, carrying a bag from the fast food place attached to the convenience store. "She get one of those blue things again?"

"Yup."

"She tell you the last time she had one she took a Benadryl for an allergy, fell asleep, and it really did look like she'd died in the back seat?"

"Left that out."

"Yup. Gwen's a peach. Life's not dull with her around. We're ready to go when you are."

Dean took a drink of the slushie Gwen had bought him. "Soon as Sam's done pumping gas, we'll get back on the road."

"Sounds good." Christian headed for the other car and Dean could hear him start to bicker with Gwen about the slushie.

From the corner of his eye he saw a movement and, as he turned his head, he thought he saw a woman standing at the corner of the store, yet when he stepped to look, no one was there. With a prickle of unease, he moved towards the Impala. That prickle stayed with him all the way to the highway, then dissipated into nothingness.