My Brother's Keeper

Author: Otterling

A/N: Still no beta and this chapter was written on 3 hours sleep so I'm sorry if it's a tad long…and stuff. _

The usual stuff applies here. I don't own any of these characters. This was just a plot bug caught in my head. _

Warnings: Violence and language. Also, there will be COPIOUS amounts of adorable in here. Be warned.

Chapter 3: Unforeseen reunions

The winding back country roads of North Carolina were still and silent, nestled between rows of thick trees and overgrown brush, and Dean guided the impala down them at top speed, putting as much distance as possible between them and the scene they'd come across at the hotel. He stared straight ahead out of the windshield, trying his best to ignore the seat next to him and the disturbing glow that was coming from the passenger side of the car. "Sammy, if we're gonna take that damned thing with us, at least cover it up. It's screwing with my night vision," he growled before cranking the radio a little higher and thus making it clear that he wasn't interested in this turning into a conversation again. He and Sam had argued no less than five times already since they'd started driving and that was a little under four hours ago. Dean's head was pounding from all the yelling but he firmly decided that the Metallica blasting out of his speakers was infinitely preferable to going around in circles again with his stubborn brother.

No matter what he said, Dean simply couldn't convince Sam that taking the egg with them was a bad idea. He couldn't help feeling uneasy about keeping a glowing ball that could break open any moment to reveal soul crushing horror but Sam wouldn't part with it. He glanced over when he caught movement in his periphery and watched as Sam peeled off his plaid over-shirt. The pissy expression on Sam's face faded away as he carefully wrapped the fabric around the glowing ball cradled in his lap and Dean turned his attention back to the road, satisfied for the moment that he'd at least won this small victory.

The younger Winchester paused in his wrapping and peered intently down at the last remaining spot he had yet to cover, his hand hovering with a flap of fabric dangling from it as he tried to shield the light from reaching Dean's side of the car. Sam ran his fingers over the delicate shell with his free hand and watched as the light played under the surface. He had found himself strangely enraptured ever since they'd found the egg and he'd taken to staring intently at it when he wasn't busy fending off Dean's attempts to eject it from the car. It wasn't that he wasn't aware of the danger really, it was just that he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't some hellspawn waiting to hatch and eat his face. What self respecting demon would hatch from pearly glowing eggs after all? Though he had to admit that he wasn't sure just what WOULD hatch from it. Dean had even made the rather snide suggestion that it was a radioactive ostrich during one of their arguments. Sam, for his part, didn't much care what was inside the egg, he was simply determined to give it a chance. Afterall, if Gabriel had brought it to their room and something big enough to take the archangel out had shown up looking for it, then it was a pretty safe bet that whatever was inside the egg was fairly important.

Sam folded the last of the cloth around the egg, throwing the inside of the car into relative darkness once more, and settled in for the long drive. He knew Dean wouldn't want to stop until they had put some good distance behind them and they had settled on heading west for Little Rock, Arkansas. The drive would take them several hours, placing them at their destination sometime in the wee hours of morning and Sam knew he could look forward to the entire drive being filled with tense silence. He was surprised then when Dean spoke up suddenly. "Bertie the goldfish," he stated flatly, "do you remember that? Dad had been hunting in West Virginia, a poltergeist I think, and we were staying in that little hotel with the fugly green curtains?"

Sam snorted in amusement and turned slightly in his seat to look at Dean. "Yeah. I remember you melted that bowl on the radiator trying to make oatmeal and the whole room stank like burnt plastic for a week. You took me to that little pet store on the corner and promised to buy me one of those 25 cent goldfish if I didn't tell dad about it." A nostalgic grin split Sam's face and he leaned back against the window. He'd been so happy to have that tiny spark of vibrant orange swimming around in a little plastic bag as they'd walked back to the hotel. He had cradled it to his chest the whole way, afraid he'd drop it but he wouldn't let Dean carry it either. He had wanted so badly to show Dean and his father that he could take care of a pet if only they'd let him have one. The life of a hunter had not afforded them the ability to have any animals growing up and it had been one of the greater regrets of Sam's childhood. He'd named it Bertie, a strange mashing of Bert and Ernie, and had happily watched it swim for hours in the shallow cereal bowl that they'd found to put it in. "I remember Dad made me give it away at the end of the week when we were leaving too," Sam said a little more bitterly than he meant to, "So what brought that up?"

Dean shot his brother a sidelong glance. "Bertie," he said grumpily, "It's a stupid ass name for a goldfish. This thing hatches, I'M naming it. I'm not gonna wind up walking around a hellhound named 'Peaches' for christ's sake. And if it pees in my car, I'll kill you."

Sam grinned from ear to ear at his brother's rant. The first thing Dean would do when he knew he was losing an argument was to start making ridiculous demands in an attempt to give himself some sense of control over the situation. Sam was all too happy to let him do it. "Deal," he said happily. Dean seemed to relax some at that and the tension in the air faded away for the rest of the drive.

It was around 3am before the brothers finally pulled into the parking lot below the dull red glow of a sign advertising a vacancy. Dean took care of getting the room while Sam waited outside with the egg nestled in his lap and by the time they finally got inside, both were too tired to take more than a fleeting glance at the décor before shuffling to their respective beds. Sam gently set the egg, still wrapped in his shirt, into the nook formed by his pillows and turned to find Dean already making his way for the bathroom. It wasn't worth arguing over who would shower first so he waited until the water started running and then pulled out his cell phone to call Bobby. A gruff voice thick with sleep finally answered after the fifth ring and Sam uttered a few quick apologies before filling Bobby in on the details of the hotel room, the power outage, and the finding of the strange glowing egg. After being called a few choice names for being dumb enough to carry the egg in his lap the whole drive, Sam finally hung up with Bobby who had promised to do some research on whether there was any religious lore out there for glowing orbs.

He flopped down next to the egg and found himself pulling away the fabric before he even realized what he was going. He had a driving desire to hold it again and watch the light play over its surface and it wasn't until the egg was once more perched in his hands that Sam realized why he was so fascinated with it. There was an odd sense of peace that seemed to wash over him as he held it, as if just being in contact with the egg was somehow comforting and as he stared at the pearly light, the memories of all the horrors he'd seen faded to the back of his mind. He could even swear that the egg had gotten hotter since they'd found it and the palms of his hands had begun to sweat a little by the time Dean emerged from the shower.

"You keep playing with that, you're gonna go blind," Dean quipped as he flopped down on his own bed.

"Funny," Sam snorted. He got up and crossed the short distance to the other bed where he offered the egg to a less than enthusiastic Dean. "Here, I'm gonna go take a shower real quick."

"Dude, I am NOT taking that. Just set it on your bed. It's not gonna wander off on its own."

Sam frowned. "Dean, it's an egg. It probably needs to stay warm. Just put it next to you. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Dean grumbled something unintelligible under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "chuck it out the damned window" but he snatched the egg from Sam's grip regardless, shooting his brother a highly displeased look as Sam wandered off toward the bathroom. Once the other door had shut and Dean found himself alone with the egg, he leaned back against his pillows and dropped it unceremoniously onto the comforter next to him. He snatched up the remote and flicked on the small television, intent on just passing the time watching something fairly mindless until Sam was done, but after only a few minutes he felt something nudge against his side. Dean slowly peeled his eyes from the infomercial where he had happily been watching a well built blonde as she demonstrated a machine touted for strengthening thigh muscles and let his gaze fall to the egg at his side. "Please tell me that was my imagination," he breathed softly. Much to his dismay, the egg shifted again.

Dean was off the bed in a heartbeat, gun in hand as he stared at the bed's sole occupant. The Egg shuddered lightly and rolled a half inch across the comforter before stilling once more. "Oh HELL no," Dean muttered, "SAM!" The water continued to run in the next room and Dean doubted his brother had even heard him. His eyes stayed locked on the egg which had stopped moving entirely by then and after another few long moments, he dared to approach it again. He bumped it gently with the back of his left hand, his gun still tightly gripped in his right but the egg didn't stir again. Dean let out a slow breath he didn't realize he was holding and re-holstered his weapon. He bumped it lightly one more time and then finally braved picking it up. "Look, I'll make you a deal. You just stay in there until Sam gets out and I won't shoot you, ok?" The egg simply sat still in his hands and for a moment Dean felt a little silly for trying to bargain with it but a moment later it shuddered again and a large crack rent it down the middle.

Dean held the offending object at an arm's length and watched with trepidation as the crack grew larger until at last it spiderwebbed across the whole surface. With a final soft crackling sound, the shell popped apart and a small fleshy bundle emerged at last. Dean stared at it open mouthed for a few seconds as it yawned and stretched and then tiny eyelids fluttered for a moment before opening to reveal brilliant blue eyes beneath a thick mat of soft dark hair. Confusion set into every pore of Dean's being as he stared at what looked like an infant boy still half cradled in the remnants of its shell, bright eyes staring out at him from a soft chubby face. "Uh….ok. Definitely not an ostrich." Dean gently set the child and the remaining bits of shell onto his bed and watched with interest as the boy tried to struggle the rest of the way out of his confines which had ceased glowing by then. His eyes widened as the infant finally pulled itself free and revealed two small shafts of light that streaked down his back. They seemed to shiver for a moment and then finally unfurled to reveal two tiny wings that appeared to be made of the same golden white light that had been coming from the egg before it had hatched.

The infant tottered for a moment on all fours before flopping over and turning those large curious eyes back in Dean's direction. The boy looked a little older than a normal newborn and Dean would have placed him around a month old or more had he seen the kid under any other circumstances. As it was, Dean wasn't quite sure WHAT to make of the little boy now staring intently at him. It was obvious the child was an angel as Dean couldn't think of anything else that would have wings made out of light, but he had to admit he was dumbfounded as to why, if this was an angel, he wasn't blinded already just from looking at it. The little boy cocked his head in a way that reminded Dean of a small bird and the hunter couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. The way the kid was looking at him sort of reminded Dean of…

"Cas?"