This chapter took me a while because of homework. So it's extra long to make up for it. About 500 more words than usual. I actually had this typed pretty quick when I actually sat down. Anyway, here it is. Hope it was worth the wait. :)

Ch. 9

Dean sits across from Mark and the other three group leaders. Going over hotspots marked on the map by blue 'x's.

Sam stands right behind him, watching over his shoulder and mentally going over all of the information he's gathering.

Mark points to an 'x'. "That's where we lost twenty people last time. We went out to get supplies and found out too late that they had moved in and made base there. Totally blindsided us."

Dean nods grimly. "They're sneaky bastards. You attack any of their bases?"

A man next to Mark, who had introduced himself as Drake, nods. "Blew up that one there." He points to a red 'x'.

Dean grins. "Did it work?"

"We don't know the effect fire had on them, but they never rebuilt the base," Crow, one of the other leaders, answers.

Dean wonders if he's called that for his black hair or if there's a personality reason involved with the nickname. He nods thoughtfully. "Do they know you're here?"

Mark shakes his head. "We don't know if it's that they don't know we're here, or they don't really know what we're doing here."

Dean snorts. "They don't know you're an army base, basically."

All of the leaders nod.

"We were planning on taking some people out and repeating that performance in two days," Mark says ruefully.

Dean looks up, a spark of interest in his eyes. "Sounds like fun." He looks over his shoulder. "What do you think?"

Sam chuckles lowly. "Thrilling." He leans over Dean's shoulder, pointing to an 'x'.

Dean nods in agreement. "You guys said that one was a bigger base?"

The fourth leader, Sky, nods. "More operations based there. Saw them ship in a ton of equipment. We're still not sure on their plan yet. We only have theories based on the info we're getting from scouts."

Dean is still trying to figure out if they call him Sky because of the bright blue color of his eyes or if it's his real name. Maybe it's short for Skylar… "You think we should do that one?" he asks, tilting his head back a little towards Sam.

Sam nods, eyes scanning over the map. He draws lines with his fingers.

Dean looks to the map. "It'd be best if we go in decently sized, but also small, groups." He starts translating how Sam drags his fingers as routes across the map. "I don't know how you guys handled the last one, but we should move in from three different directions. In waves. Maybe four. They won't be expecting things to keep coming."

"Draw out," Sam adds.

Dean nods. "It'd be best to draw most of them out."

Sam pauses, a different expression crossing his face before it goes back to its normal stoicism. He clears his throat.

Dean rolls his eyes, recognizing the expression as Sam's annoyance at having to talk. He puts a hand to Sam's arm to keep him from talking. "I already know what you're thinking. You don't need to talk. I still have my voice."

Sam raises an eyebrow at him, a corner of his mouth quirking up in an amused smirk.

Dean smirks back. "Yes, I know exactly what you're thinking."

Sam waves an arm towards the map. Go ahead then.

Dean chuckles, turning back to the leaders. "Groups of maybe three or four should sneak in and start setting explosives in the major support areas of whatever buildings they're in. They'll be sneaking in at the end of each wave, the next wave distracting the leviathans as they move into the occupied buildings. When we get a report for the clear, we retreat and light the place up." He looks to Sam. "Did I miss anything?"

Sam rolls his eyes, leaning his hip on the back of Dean's chair as he crosses his arms. "Tricks," Sam murmurs.

Dean snaps his fingers. "That's right." He looks over the group. "What do you guys know about taking these things down long enough to get away?"

Crow groans. "Not much. As we said, we didn't stick around to see what the fire did. And we know about the cleaning stuff. But it's hard to find these days."

Dean nods, looking up to Sam. "We have a little teaching to do. Ready for a training session tomorrow?"

Sam nods.

Dean looks back to the group. "Alright. With the risk of sounding full of ourselves…"

Sam snorts.

Dean glares up at him before continuing. "We know a few tricks. Would you want to get whoever's going on this together tomorrow so we can show them a few things? What training do you have set up here?"

Sky speaks up. "Target practice. Shooting and knives. And we have some combat training." He shrugs. "Basic stuff."

Dean nods thoughtfully. "You mind if we see a combat session?"

"Not at all. We're having one tonight actually. My group."

Dean looks to Sam. "Will you be up for a demonstration?"

Sam knows he's talking about his back. He nods. It's been two days. It's fine.

"You sure?"

He's answered with an exaggerated eye roll.

He chuckles. "Alright." He looks to Sky. "We'll be there."

"So what do you think?"

Sam's calculating eyes move over the two sparring in the middle of the field. It's a few seconds before he answers. "They're going too easy on each other."

Dean nods in agreement. "They're more focused on not hurting each other rather than what their next move will be."

Sam nudges him with his shoulder. "We used to do that too," he says with a small smile. It widens when Dean snorts.

"We grew out of it though. Learned that the damage we do to each other would be less than anything else would be if they're really trying to hurt us."

Sam's arm rests against Dean's when he leans a little closer. "We going to demonstrate?"

Dean nods. "If you're up for it. They need it. It'll be like a challenge to them. If we act like we can take more than them, maybe they'll want to go after the prize for 'manliest man'."

Sam chuckles darkly. "Sounds like you."

"Shut up."

Sam smirks. "No." The smirk disappears when Sky starts walking up to them.

"See anything, Campbell?"

Dean nods. "I don't want to step in too much. You're the leader. But I would like to say a few things to them."

Sky nods. "I'm open to suggestions. I'm not exactly a teacher. I just give them tips."

"My dad taught me everything I know. Was a Marine. I'd like to teach them a few of the things that have helped me."

Sky waves his hand towards his men. "Be my guest."

Dean walks up to the group, Sam right behind his shoulder as usual. He chuckles. "You're like my bodyguard, dude."

Sam punches him in the back.

Dean glares over his shoulder. "Bitch."

Sam smirks darkly. Jerk.

Dean turns back to the men who have grouped together in front of them. They wait to see what the newcomers have to say. A lot of them are skeptical. Some are nervous. Dean sees it all. He has to keep his smile from turning into a smirk. "Gentleman."

Someone snorts.

Dean grins. "I'm Campbell. This is Colt. I've talked to Sky and he said it's okay for us to teach you a few things."

"No disrespect," a man in the front sneers, "but what could you teach us that we haven't already learned? We've been out there. We've fought. We've learned." The man's eyes move from Dean to Sam. He stiffens.

Dean looks over his shoulder.

Sam is aiming a deadly glare at the man. He's tense. His jaw is clenched.

Dean touches his arm. "Easy."

Sam looks to him, almost hopeful.

Dean shakes his head. "No way, man. He wouldn't stand a chance. It's you and me today. You can challenge him later. Okay?"

Sam huffs, relaxing a little. He looks petulant for a second. Almost like a child. Then he levels the glare back on the man.

Dean looks to him. "You thinking you know everything shows how much you still have to learn."

The rest of the men in the group chuckle.

Dean looks them over, appraising. "Everyone has something to learn. I do. You do. No one will ever know everything that could possibly be known about defending their life. It'd be useful. Unfortunately it's an impossibility. Today, Colt and I are going to show you how we train. Because honestly? You guys are doing okay. But it's not very realistic."

"What do you mean?" someone asks.

Dean signals Sam, looking to the man who spoke up as his brother walks away. "Watch us. And then I'll ask you what you've learned."

The man nods.

Dean turns to where Sam has started limbering up. He grins when he notices he's already sweating. "Warming up? You look warm enough already." He moves to take off his shirt, wiping some of his own sweat away before tossing it to the side. The weather has gotten warmer recently. The sun shines brightly, still lowering to the horizon.

Sam smirks darkly at him, spreading his hands as he hunches forward. Bring it.

Dean grins. "I don't want to hurt you. You sure your back can take it?"

Sam rolls his eyes. He moves his hands to his own shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it at Dean. The thinner layer of bandages is a reminder to Dean that he's healing just fine and can take whatever he dishes out.

The men around them blatantly stare, shocked and wondering what the bandages hide that have to cover almost his whole back. The many scars the brothers have also draw attention, but almost everyone has their own set these days so it's not quite as striking.

Dean grimaces, throwing the sweaty shirt away. "I get the point. Let's get to it then, shall we?" He steps forward.

Sam's world shrinks to just the two of them. Him and Dean. "Waiting on you, old man," he says darkly, voice like a venomous snake. A mix between a seductive purr and a dangerous hiss. It startles some of the men who have never heard him talk.

Sky stands on the sidelines with his men, shifting nervously as he sees 'Colt' shifting into something dangerous. Sure, he's seen the huge guy walking around camp. He's definitely a threat. But now… now he's ready to fight. He looks like he's itching to kill something. It's extremely unnerving.

Dean only grins at Sam's words. "All talk and no bite, dude. You gonna actually do something?" He inches forward as Sam does.

It's completely still for a second. Then they explode.

It's like they move as one, going at each other with mirror movements. Almost as if they read each other's mind. They move across the field at extreme speed, eyes shifting so quickly it doesn't seem like they should be able to gather all of the information from each other. And it's violent. Excessively so.

The men flinch each time one of them gets a hit on the other. If they didn't know any better, they'd say the two were in a fight to the death. Punches are strong, moves are made with intent to harm, and neither give any mercy.

To the brothers, this is just another normal training session. Punches are pulled. Not all the way, but they're softened. Enough to leave bruises, not broken bones. Twists of a wrist or arm are lessened enough to keep from breaking anything but not enough to let them get away. They trust each other. They know each other's limits. They still push the boundaries.

As one, the two separate again, circling each other. Sam spits to the ground, blood from where Dean had nailed him in the mouth with his elbow staining his bottom teeth as he grins.

Dean shakes out his hand from where Sam had gripped it hard enough to grind bones together when keeping him from landing a hit to his neck. "You break my hand, I break your face, understood?"

Sam only grins in delight. He'd gotten Dean. Point for him.

Dean glares. "No point system," he growls as if reading his brother's mind.

Sam only grins, lunging forward again.

Dean blocks the strike, bending Sam's arm back behind him and moving his foot forward with the intent to send him to the ground. If he gets Sam on the ground, there's no longer a height advantage. However, Sam sees it coming and hooks his foot around Dean's, startling him. In that second, he throws his weight into Dean's chest with his shoulder. They both hit the ground, letting out simultaneous 'oofs'.

It turns into a wrestling match until Dean kicks Sam away. Both rolling to their feet, they move towards each other again. When Dean blocks both of Sam's next strikes, they pause a few feet away from each other. Sweat runs down their faces and backs.

Dean runs his arm over his forehead. "That all you got?"

Sam pulls his knife from his side.

Dean blinks.

Everyone around them stops breathing, eyes on either Colt or Campbell. Wondering what Campbell will do and how crazy Colt really is. Then they see the second change. For once, it's easy to see how the two get along so well. Campbell turns into a dangerous creature, just as Colt had done minutes ago.

Dean's face curls into a dark grin, transforming just as Sam did. "It's about time."

The two go at it again, only this time it's even more fierce. Sam snarls as Dean maneuvers himself around to grab Sam around the neck, trying to choke him. Sam eventually gets his head back to collide with Dean's, making his brother release him with a grunt. Then Dean growls. "That's it." He crouches, pulling his own knife from his boot.

Sam's grin turns almost sadistic with childish delight. "Yes."

Dean grins like he just achieved some greatness by making Sam happy. "Come and get me, boy."

Sam does.

For a while, neither of them can get a strike against the other. Then Dean loses his balance as Sam throws his weight into his shoulder. It's a second for Sam's knife to slide right over Dean's side. He grins in triumph as Dean hisses. His second of distraction by his satisfaction gives Dean the opening he needs. He goes for Sam's forearm, still wrapped around him as they're locked together.

Sam growls, letting go and stepping back. Before he gets too far away though, he hooks his foot around Dean's leg, drawing it up to grab the end of his pants in his fist. He yanks up. Dean hits the ground on his back. Sam goes for the killing strike, taking advantage of Dean losing his breath with the impact. His blade stops barely a centimeter away from Dean's jugular.

The men around them, forgotten by the pair, watch in fear as Colt sends Campbell to the ground and swings his knife down. They all intake a sharp breath, Sky being the only one to jerk forward to stop him though he knows it's too late. They all stand frozen though when the blade freezes, watching the two just look at each other. Colt crouched over Campbell, blade still poised, and Campbell looking up at him with a look of surprise.

As they watch, the look changes to the utmost pride, his chest puffing out even as he lays on the ground under the blade. They see his lips move, though they can't hear what he says.

"That's my boy, Sammy," Dean murmurs, eyes filled with pride.

Sam's face lights up, turning into a satisfied and proud grin as he stands. He puts his knife away and offers his hand to Dean, pulling his brother to his feet.

Dean steps forward, throwing his arm around Sam's shoulders as he smiles up at him. "Don't get used to it," he says a little louder. "It's only the first time you've taken me down."

Sam rolls his eyes, shrugging. He can't seem to stop grinning.

Dean turns to the man who had asked him what he meant about not being realistic. "What did you learn?"

The man stares at them in awe. "If we don't practice like we're fighting for our life, we won't know how when it really comes down to it."

Dean smirks, approval evident. Then he steps forward, offering his hand. "What's your name, dude?"

The man takes his hand in a firm grip, shaking once. "Liam."

Dean nods. "Good, strong name for a good, strong man. You have what it takes, Liam. Keep the attitude you have and you'll learn so many things."

Liam nods.

Dean releases his hand, stepping back to touch his shoulder blade to Sam's chest. He looks over the men. "Leviathans won't go easy on you. If you haven't been within thirty feet of one yet, you don't know what it's like. Make sure you're ready to defend your life. Whatever it takes. Because you never know when they'll decide you're who they want for lunch next."

"What do you know about the leviathans?" the skeptic from before asks.

Sam looks to him. Eyes hard. "Wait until you drop a car on one and see it alive again. Or maybe cut off their head and see it reattach."

The men around him shiver at his voice. There's just something about it… Cold. Like the Devil himself is talking to them.

Dean touches his arm again, hearing the ice in his brother's voice he mentally calls the
"Devil's Echo". A voice that would make him shiver with the memories of the devil inside his brother if he didn't keep them from tainting the view he has on his brother now. The boy he raised to be the strong man that fights against his mental handicaps and struggles. "Easy, man. He'll learn eventually."

Sam looks to him.

Dean smiles. "C'mon. I have a feeling I need to check your back. And I'm starving."

Sam relaxes. Because Dean's with him. Who cares what anyone else thinks about them?