Chapter 2

Dean stuck his head through the small kitchen door. Sam's head was buried in his laptop, a book open to the side. "Hey Sammy, You taking Lit this semester?"

Sam looked up over the computer at his brother and sighed, a smile on his face. "Nope, saving that one for later. Why, you hoping to score a certain teacher's autograph? Want me to sneak a few pictures of him so you can cuddle with them at night?"

"Funny Sam. Real cute." Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "Just knock it off and quit being a bitch." He huffed and sat down at the small kitchen table, twisting the cap off a beer. "Dudes probably junkless anyway."

Sam looked at him over the computer. "Yeah, I'm not really the one interested in his junk, Dean."

"Neither am I, Samantha." He took a sip of the beer and put it down on the table, something obviously on his mind.

"So what is it? What's bothering you?" Sam pushed the computer aside and looked at his brother.

"I know that you just do the ghost hunting thing for me and all. Well, I appreciate it, but I know it's not really your thing. So I guess this is your way out."

Sam could see past the 'couldn't care less' act his brother was putting on. He'd seen the light dim a little last night when Professor Novak suggested he find another hobby before they'd parted ways. The guy was a serious dick, but Dean didn't exactly help matters by pretending to be a big, dumb, smartass jerk when he was anything but. Dean was so much more than he'd ever give himself credit for. "Dean seriously, you packed up your entire life to come out here with me so I could go to school. So yeah, a couple of hours in a cemetery every now and again, not such a big deal." He shrugged. "Besides, I kind of like learning the histories, and the stories are fascinating in a slightly morbid sort of way."

Dean flipped the beer cap at Sam and smirked. "Dude, do you really have to geekify everything?"

Sam threw the beer cap in the trash can next to his chair. "You mean ghost hunting wasn't already geeky? Cause I'm pretty sure paranormal investigation ranks pretty high up on the geek-o-meter, right after LARPing and chess club."

"Maybe, but I hear there's a picture of you next to the word 'dork' in the dictionary." He tried to laugh it off, but even insulting Sam wasn't doing the trick this morning. "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about it anymore any way. No way we'll be able to investigate around here. Not with Professor 'stick-up-his-ass' policing the area."

"I don't know Dean." Sam nodded to Dean. "Maybe, maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"I did a little digging after you passed out last night. Dr. Novak…" He stressed the Dr., hoping Dean would catch the title. "…is one of the most respected names in the field. It seems he's the academic go-to guy for all things paranormal. About a year and a half ago he just packed it all up. Now he refuses to be involved in field study for personal reasons he's never disclosed. If anyone knows why, they're not talking."

Sam slid the computer to Dean so he could read the screen. After a few moments, Dean looked up from the computer, his expression skeptical. "I don't know where you get 'maybe not' out of this. He clearly thinks we're a bunch of losers. And I quote:" He read from the screen. "The field of scientific, paranormal study had been muddied by thrill seekers and attention hounds looking for their five minutes of fame."

"I'm not so sure. He obviously has issues with the one's doing it for show, but so do I, actually." Their group had been offered a chance to do a local television show a few months back. They had a discussion about the pros and cons of publically airing their cases and unanimously voted against it, agreeing that wasn't the direction they wanted to take. Sam had been the loudest voice against it, claiming that their work would become about the show and pressure to produce results could become a problem. "I get the feeling that with the right push, he may come around."

"Okay, I'll bite. How do we push?"

Sam came around and opened up another file on the computer. "I got an email from Cindy. There's a case about fifty miles from here."

Dean looked the email over. "A private residence?"

"Yeah, she forwarded me some pictures and a recording of a telephone conversation she had with the lady who contacted her. They're legitimately scared. I picked up an EVP from the conversation without having to use filters or amplifiers. I think there may be something to this."

Dean passed the computer back to Sam. "Maybe so, but Dr. Novak said that we don't have the proper equipment so…"

Sam's laughter interrupted Dean's sentence. "I'm pretty sure he was talking about you."

Dean looked at him, confused. "Huh?"

Sam stopped laughing and tried to stay serious for the moment. "Nothing, never mind. But that's just it. He probably does. These people need help. We don't have the tools to help them. We need him. He's a teacher. Trust me; he'll jump at the chance to mold us into proper ghost hunters. It's a teacher thing, they can't help themselves." He slid the computer back to Dean. "His teaching schedule is the third tab over. Go talk to him about it today, since you're off."

Sam grabbed his backpack headed out the door, but stuck his head back in. "Oh, and try not to stare at his ass too much. If I noticed it in the dark, imagine how obvious it will be under florescent lighting."

"Blow me, Sam."

Sam cringed. "Dude, don't be gross." He laughed and slammed the door shut, leaving Dean with no chance of getting the last word in.

Cas looked up from his teaching podium to see Dean Winchester take a seat in the back row. He thought about talking a little longer about the suspension of believability in modern literature, or maybe something even more boring to see how long it took the other man to fall asleep in the desk. He decided not to punish his students any further for the day, regardless of how much fun it could be.

He flicked off the overhead projector and closed his book. "I think that will be enough for today. Don't forget to be working on your essays. I'll need them turned in by Thursday. Late assignments will not be accepted and earn you a zero."

He walked down the aisle, straight to Dean. "Hello, Mr. Winchester. Have you decided to audit my class?"

Dean stood up and held out his hand, the way Sam had the night before, mentally chastising himself for not doing it last night instead of being a dick. "It's Dean. Call me Dean. Mr. Winchester is my father."

Cas accepted his outstretched hand and shook it. "Okay Dean. Why are you here?"

"I kind of need your help with something." Dean was doing his best to be polite, but the guy was making it very difficult.

"My office hours are clearly posted on the same web page where you found my class schedule, as is the phone number to schedule an appointment."

Dean really wanted to just tell this guy off, but he promised himself he'd do what he had to get his help. After listening to the phone conversation, the Monroes needed them. "Oh, sorry. I was just off today and…"

"Dr. Novak, when can I come by your office to work on that extra credit assignment?" A pretty brunette interrupted, casually leaning into him.

"I have given you all the instruction that you need to complete that assignment, Casey. There is no need to visit my office." He took a step back.

Dean watched as the girl exaggeratedly pouted her lips and walked away. He arched his eyebrow and grinned. "Damn Dr. Novak, what kind of extra credit do you hand out?"

"The kind that requires a two thousand word essay explaining character development and when, if ever, character regression is acceptable. As it relates to the book they've chosen, of course." He folded his arms. "Again, what can I help you with, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling in thought. "I didn't think character regression was ever acceptable." He caught the knowing smirk on the teachers face and quickly tried to cover. "Not that I know what that is or anything." He had a rep to protect, after all.

Cas cocked his eyebrow. "It is acceptable on occasion. It depends on where the author is intending to take the particular character and there is always a chance that the character in question may be revolting against any previous development. Basically, trying to be something he's not because he's afraid to face who he really is. Even though it may upset a few of the readers, it is in fact, acceptable. While I'd love to talk endlessly about this subject, I have another class to teach in a few minutes. So again, what do you want, Dean?"

"There's a case about an hour from here and I thought, well actually Sam thought that we could use your help." Dean knew he had a better chance getting Cas to help for Sam's sake, no way the guy was doing anything for him."

Cas frowned and drew in a deep breath. "There is also a notice on that same page that explicitly explains that I no longer participate in paranormal investigations. I'm sorry you wasted your time coming down here." He started to turn away.

"Then why did you stay last night? I saw you man, it wasn't just to rip us a new one. You like being out there." Dean was grasping at straws now.

Cas turned back around to address him. "I stayed because you had a gun."

Dean flinched, not expecting that answer. "Dude, it's not like I was holding it to your head."

"No, but considering your demeanor and the fact that you were drinking, I assumed that you lack the proper permit to carry a concealed weapon in this state."

"So you only stayed to save my ass? How'd you even know I had a gun? The sheriff didn't notice it."

Cas huffed, getting impatient with the man in front of him. "For the last time, she's not a sheriff. And while she has good intentions, you weren't far off with your Mayberry reference." He paused as if thinking for the right words. "As for me knowing, I'm a paranormal investigator. I'm very well trained to be aware of everything around me."

"You mean you were." Dean spoke coldly, hoping it would have the desired effect. He'd spent some time doing a little research of his own before he'd come down here.

Cas looked up at him and nodded, his blue eyes almost sad. "Yes, I mean I was."

Dean pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket with a flash drive that contained the pictures and audio of the phone conversation. He handed it to the teacher. "Please just look it over. These are elderly people and they're scared. They need help and everyone else is just writing them off as senile."

"Have you considered that maybe they are?"

"Please just look it over. My number's on the envelope." Dean started to walk away, but Cas called out to him.

"Why do you do this? What's your reason?"

Dean looked back and shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know. I've thought about it, long and hard actually. I really don't have an answer. It's just something I can't not do."

"I'll look this over. No promises." Cas stuck the envelope in his bag as Dean nodded before walking out the door.

AN: Thank you for reading. Hope you're liking it so far. Please review if you can. I know I said that I'd be updating this on Fridays, but I may update sooner as long as the chapters remain short-ish.