Figured I'd update before I go to bed. Longer chapter to kind of make up for the wait. Thanks for reading. :)

Ch. 5

Present.

They've fenced in the camp quite spectacularly, Dean observes. Wooden and stone outposts (recycled buildings or hand built) between metal fencing with both razor wire and barbed wire on top. Looking closer, he even sees it weaved into the fence. He feels a little respect for these people. They don't take a chance on anything.

Sam walks next to him, his walls up in full force. His face is hard, eyes steely. He looks more tightly drawn than when he and Dean walked into the camp to meet Mark, Dean notices. Sam looks down at him, jaw clenching as he makes himself walk a respectable distance from Dean. He stands tall. He's barricaded himself up to keep people from wanting to talk to him.

Dean can see it. He also knows that the wall wouldn't do anything to keep him out. Sam always leaves a gap in it for him. He moves over, walking closer to Sam since he knows Sam's not going to, even though he wants to. They share a look.

Sam finally speaks. His voice is low, deeper than usual. A gravely warning that he's not in the mood to be nice. Dean's the exception. "I'm alright, Dean."

Dean shrugs. "Didn't say you weren't." He steps even closer.

A split second, a tiny spark of affection filled annoyance in his eyes before he looks away. His hand rests on the handle of his blade at his side. Just something he does for reassurance. He doesn't move away from Dean.

Mark walks up, waving to a man behind the fence line. Then pulls out a small knife. He shows the man behind the fence he isn't a leviathan by cutting into his arm and letting the red of his blood show. No black goo. He jerks his head to Sam and Dean behind him. "Have some new recruits." He turns to them. "You mind showing him?"

Dean steps forward first, pulling his smaller pocket knife out of his back pocket and sliding the blade cleanly over his arm. He lets the blood slide down his arm for a bit to show the man, then turns to Sam. He locks eyes with him, judging if Sam is okay with this. Sure, they've trained and hurt each other getting back in shape, but that was in the security of their little clearing around their house.

Sam looks back, stepping forward and handing his arm over without hesitation. He doesn't even flinch as the blade cuts into his arm, just looks to the man behind the fence and holds it out to show him.

If he were honest with himself, the guard would say that these two made him nervous. The way they look like a force within themselves, even though they haven't even done anything. The shorter one (though he's definitely a decent height too) seems relaxed. Even in a new place, he seems like he's the center of the three men. Could take anything.

The tall one gets to him more, though. The way he just stands behind the shoulder of the other, his presence almost engulfing the other two in his silence. He radiates restrained power. And possibly… instability? His piercing eyes don't stay trained on anything for long.

They remind him, he thinks suddenly, of carnivorous flowers. They're both good looking. Anyone could see that. The short one is more pretty than the other, but even then, he looks just as solid and dangerous as the taller one. They'd draw people in, he thinks to himself, by their looks that portray them as nice people. Then they'd let their danger show and take them out. They're already showing their danger now though. He can see there aren't any other men like these in this camp.

He reluctantly nods when he sees their clean blood, signaling for the two men at the lock of the gate to let them in.

Mark nods to him, leading the way in. The two new recruits don't even acknowledge the others around the gate.

The guard keeps watching, blinking in surprise when a smile way too content for these times spreads across the shorter one's face as he looks up at his companion. The taller one doesn't smile, though he tilts his head, and walks a little closer to him. A look down shows his hand resting on a decently long knife strapped to his side, an intricate sheath hiding the blade.

He just let those two into this camp, and he has no idea whether he should be regretting that or not.

"You guys can sure play up the hostile card."

Dean chuckles. "Sam's defense mechanism. He can seem pretty scary." He smiles up at Sam, taking the 'of course I can' from the tilt of his head before he steps closer as they walk.

Mark nods to himself. "I think you really made Steel nervous."

Dean looks to him. "How many people do you have in this camp? Memorizing names is going to be a challenge."

Mark laughs. "We have a good number. Haven't looked at the census sheet in a while. But don't worry, we have groups. You just need to know your group and the lead guards if you want. And don't worry, I'll take care of you guys. We have an empty cabin I'll take you to where you guys will stay. It's a little bit separated from the rest of the camp. That's why no one's really claimed it. We're big on 'safety in numbers' here."

Dean nods. "Sounds perfect. Me and Sam have never needed numbers."

Sam quirks a smile, though it doesn't look happy like Dean's did earlier. It looks amused, sure, but with his emotional walls up, everything he does is darker. It reminds Dean of when Sam didn't have his soul. It'd make him nervous if he didn't know how much it's what Sam's actually trying to do. Look like he doesn't care.

Sam's smile makes Mark shiver, who shakes his head. "Of course not." It looks like he won't have to tell the men to keep their distance from these two. Sam will communicate that perfectly without words. "Right now we're headed to the meeting building. An emptied store. One big room. It's where we make our plans and organize things. They should be meeting in there today to take another census since more recruits should have been brought in."

"More recruits?" Dean asks.

"Like how I brought you two. We go out and see who wants to help every few weeks. It's usually squad leaders that are sent out. Everyone's supposed to be back today." He leads them up to the one of the biggest buildings in the camp, opening the door and motioning them inside. They scan the place as they walk in.

There are four separate groups of people, all off in their own corner of the building. The middle is left open for a few people at tables with papers and drawing boards lined up with notes and drawings on them. There are piles of supplies being stacked against the walls between all of the groups, acting as barriers to separate them, and those seem to get recorded too. It's a well-oiled machine, Dean notices with approval.

Sam leans over, murmuring, "These people might stand a chance."

Dean nods. "Let's see what all they know."

Mark turns to him. "They'll tell the new recruits everything in a bit. Let's just get you guys accounted for."

Dean looks around, already noticing looks their way. He knows the picture they make. Sam and his ability to tower over most people just by being, even if they aren't that much shorter, and sometimes even the taller. And there's Dean, features that are both sharp and friendly at the same time right now. He rarely has to be the one that looks dangerous now, letting that be Sam's forte. One of them has to be nice to communicate with people.

Also, they haven't really put any effort in concealing what they're packing. Dean with his guns on his sides, and Sam with his knife. Sam has a gun at his back too, but he doesn't use it. The knife gives him the control he needs. He uses it as an extension of his own body. Something he can feel, rather than a gun. Stability is important with Sam these days.

Looking around, Dean notices it's different from when they walked into the camp they met Mark in. Instead of looking away, most of them keep looking. Trying not to look intimidated. Dean gives them credit for it. These people know what it'll take to take down the leviathans. Looking danger in the eye is always a good trait to have. Dean looks to Sam again as they make it to the middle of the room.

Sam looks down, expression flat, but Dean sees the way he's been evaluating everyone too. "They're afraid. But they're determined to ignore it," he decides.

Dean nods.

Mark turns to them. "You're quiet conversations that none of us can hear are making people more nervous," he says, rolling his eyes. "It would make me uncomfortable too."

Dean snorts, a small grin spreading across his face. "Good. Then everyone understands us." He looks back to Sam. "Right, Sammy?"

One side of Sam's mouth quirks up.

The person they walk up to at the table looks up at their approach, eyes guarded before looking to Mark. "These your people?"

Mark nods. "The only ones."

"You sure know how to pick 'em," he mutters so only Mark can hear.

Sam reads his lips, snorting almost silently as he watches Mark's mouth twitch up a little in amusement.

Dean looks to him in question.

Sam shakes his head a tiny bit.

Dean rolls his eyes.

Sam touches him with his shoulder lightly. A barely there tap. I'll tell you later.

"Names?"

"Campbell and Colt," Dean answers.

The guy writes the names down. "You have your own weapons?"

Dean lays out his guns, pulling out his multiple blades and watching Sam's smirk grow with each one he sets down. When Dean sees the look on the face of the guy sitting at the table, he shrugs. "When it's just you and one other person out there, it's safe to have everything with you." He grins.

The man nods, eyes still wide as he makes some marks on the paper. Then looks nervously up at Sam. "You?"

Sam reaches to his back, pulling out his gun and moving his jacket back to show his knife on his side as he reaches down to pull a slightly smaller one from under his jeans.

Dean nods in approval. "He travels light. Most of the others are in our bags."

He thinks back to when they had to empty the trunk of the Impala. How horrible it was deciding what they could carry. Sam only had a few special weapons. A few knives Dean gave him and his two favorite guns, though Dean doesn't think he's touched them other than to clean them since before the leviathan fire.

The man at the table looks between the two. "We just like to know what everyone has here. No specifics. Just marking down that you have your own knives and guns. Keeps us from passing out ours to people who don't need them."

Dean nods. "This is your camp, I'm not questioning. It's fine."

Mark turns to them. "You guys can go with squad four. That corner over there." He nods to one of the corners of the room. "I'm the leader of that squad, so don't worry, I'll make sure everyone leaves you alone."

Dean nods. "Thanks Mark."

"Not much more to do today. Just have to go around and say names, pass out the packet of maps and information, and then I'll take you guys to your cabin. Most of them hold at least five guys. But that cabin is small, plus I'll just go ahead and assume it'd be best if it were just you two."

Dean nods. "You assume right."

Sam stands at his shoulder, eyes moving over the men in their squad. An average bunch. Of course, it's hard to tell by just looking at them. Skill is where it counts. His head flinches to the right when he hears someone step up to him, relaxing when he sees someone nervously eyeing him as he hands a packet to Dean before moving on to the rest of their group.

"Easy, Sam." Dean lets his arm touch his brother's as he skims the packet. He holds it out to the side so Sam can read over his shoulder.

"Maps. Detailed."

Dean nods. "Camp, land around camp, and what they know of where leviathans are posted. I'm impressed."

"Recons."

Dean nods.

Sam reaches over to point out something on the next page. "Their info on Dick is low."

Dean nods. "We'll help them with that sometime. I'll talk with Mark."

Sam tenses when someone walks by him, hand gripping the handle of his knife.

Dean looks up at him over his shoulder. "Relax, Sam. It's safe here. No one's going to hurt us."

Sam shrugs one shoulder a little.

Dean turns, patting him on his chest over his heart, before looking for Mark. "I'll see if we can settle down a little early. Okay?" He can see Sam shutting down. Sentences shortening before totally going silent.

Sam nods. He follows Dean, right at his shoulder, while he looks for Mark. When they find him, he's going over something with the guy from the front table.

He looks up when they approach. "Hey guys. One of our scouts hasn't come back yet. We're postponing the meeting until tomorrow to see if they make it." His expression says the words he doesn't. That if the missing person doesn't show up, it's possible they never will.

Dean nods once. "So it's alright if we settle for the night?"

Mark nods. "I'll take you guys to your cabin." He hands the papers back to the guy from the table. "Thanks Sketch. You do good work." He sends him off before motioning for Sam and Dean to follow him. "That's Sketch. We call him that because he makes all of these maps for us. And keeps track of a whole lot."

Sam's eyebrows raise a little.

Dean notices, voicing the thought his brother won't say. "Impressive."

Mark chuckles. "He's been great."

"I've noticed you guys don't know a few things about the leviathans that we do."

Mark nods. "I'm sure we don't. I was thinking about bringing you guys up at the meeting tomorrow to catch everyone up on what you know. They were after you in the beginning after all. I'm sure you two are still up on their hit list."

Dean nods. "You have no idea."

Mark motions ahead to a small cabin, set away from the rest. "Here it is. It's got one bedroom, a bathroom, and the front area that's kitchen and living space. Not much furniture, but we want it to be more like an empty home rather than an army bunker."

Dean chuckles. "Understandable. Since most of you guys have been here a while."

Mark nods. "They're our homes. Like a bunch of frat houses."

Dean laughs. "I'm sure. Anyone get out of line?"

Mark rolls his eyes. "Very few, but we have a night every once in a while that gets rowdy. Usually after a successful recon or supply run."

They walk into the cabin, Dean and Sam stepping in silently out of habit. They look the place over, Dean nodding in approval when he sees he'll be able to push the beds together to make sure Sam doesn't have nightmares. "Looks great Mark. Thanks."

Mark shrugs. "No problem guys. I should be thanking you for helping us. You guys will be a good asset. And I know how much you could be avoiding this whole thing."

"We should help," Sam answers lowly, eyes moving over the kitchen area with interest.

Dean nods. "We might still have some crap to get together, but we should help clean up this mess. It's mostly our fault anyway."

Mark shakes his head, but doesn't argue. Knows it won't do any good. "Sleep well guys. The meeting is tomorrow at noon. Breakfast is always from eight to nine, lunch will be before and during the meeting. Dinner is always at five to six."

Dean nods. "Thanks Mark."

He leaves, shutting the door behind him with a click.

Dean looks to Sam. "Let's see how you do sleeping in a new place. It'd be a good idea to try and go to bed early in case it doesn't work."

Sam's mouth quirks up in a half grin as he walks with Dean into the bedroom and sets his bag down on the table against the wall by the door. "Okay."

They get ready for bed silently, both pushing the two beds together before getting in. They face each other, Sam linking a finger in the collar of Dean's shirt for reassurance before he closes his eyes.

"I'm right here, Sam."

He falls asleep, content with that knowledge.