Warning for a few words I don't personally use but I'm sure the boys would. Sorry again for the wait. The light at the tunnel is getting closer though. Classes are almost done.

Ch. 14

Present

It's dark when the screams start. When the fire starts spreading. The smoke almost unknowingly slithering through buildings and choking out the oxygen from the air. It drives everyone from the camp. It spreads fast. Silhouettes are flashing across buildings. Voices call through the air.

No one makes it far from the camp. The screams eventually stop. The camp burns to the ground. It's left empty. Except a few corpses. No one from the camp is left to tell.

"C'mon Sammy, wake up."

Sam grunts, slowly pushing himself up from his pillow, looking to glare at Dean.

Dean chuckles, the glare Sam is trying to pull tainted with cuteness by the pillow creases along the side of his face and the disheveled hair. Not that he'd ever say that out loud. It's just the only way he's able to describe it. "Sorry, Sam but Mark just came by. Said a meeting was called. Had something big go down last night."

That gets Sam up, a head tilt aimed at Dean.

"I have no idea. Meeting is in five minutes. Let's go, lazy."

Sam only glares, a little more effectively this time.

They walk into the 'Walmart' as Dean has come to calling it, even though they have no idea what store it used to be since it's burned so bad, five minutes later. They stand in the back of the room. All the groups are mixed together right now. Something Dean and Sam haven't seen happen since they got here a month ago.

The leaders are all up front, already giving the story. From what they've gathered, there was an attack on a settlement about two hundred miles away. No one left that survived, but someone was traveling through the area, saw the fire and came to tell them. They're speculating on natural causes verses the leviathans.

Dean looks to Sam.

Sam nods.

They make their way around the crowd at the walls of the building, going up to Mark where he's sitting at the top of the stairs leading to the makeshift stage they have. Drake is talking now, telling of how they're going to see if they can find out where the leviathans are and if they had taken the people, or just killed them. If they were a part of this at all. Sam frowns, looking to Dean again and getting a nod in return.

Dean gets Mark's attention, who comes down the stairs. "What's up?"

"You don't have all the information possible here."

Mark frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Who told you all this? He hasn't told you everything."

Sky comes up behind mark. "What's going on here?"

Mark turns to Sky. "Where's Charlie?"

"Still in the lockdown cabin. Figured it'd be best until we had everyone on the same page. Why?"

Mark nods towards Sam and Dean. "I think these guys should see him."

Sky blinks before glaring at Mark. "Why?"

Mark looks to him. "Because they know things. And they somehow know he isn't telling us everything."

Sky wrinkles his nose. "Somehow."

Mark sighs.

Sky sighs too, in answer. "Alright. C'mon."

Sam and Dean nod their thanks to Mark before following Sky. Mark follows them, curious. They all walk into the cabin when Sky unlocks it, the two leaders leaning against the wall to watch as Sam and Dean casually amble up to Charlie, Dean taking care to make sure his limp is hidden. Something he's done as much as possible when out and about in the camp though he pays for it when he tries to relax in the cabin.

"So, Charlie."

The man looks up at Sam and Dean, apprehension and confusion evident in his face. "Yeah?" he asks when Dean waits for a reply.

"What are you leaving out?"

Charlie blinks. "Leaving out?"

Sam hums deep in his throat, the sound coming out more as a growl than anything.

"You saw the fire. What else did you see? There's never a random fire anymore. People are too careful anymore. And in the middle of the night, everyone disappearing, what are the odds, right?"

Charlie seems to sink in his chair.

"That's what I thought."

"Tell the rest," Sam rumbles.

Charlie's eyes snap to Sam, a small spark of fear making him almost flinch back at his icy tone and low voice. He's a good foot shorter than him. An intimidating difference when the man is already built like a friggin' moose. "Tire tracks," he finally answers.

"What kind?" Dean snaps.

"Like… eighteen wheeler tracks. The big ones. Shipping trucks."

Dean looks to Sam.

Sam nods, making a motion with his hand.

Dean leans over to put his hands on the table between him and Charlie. "Did you see anything else, Charlie? I can start breaking limbs. Not necessarily fingers."

Behind them, Sky looks to Mark with trepidation. Mark waves it off.

Charlie swallows audibly. "I didn't see anything else."

"Where were the tracks headed?"

"Southeast I think. I had to duck when I saw them going by me a few miles out of the settlement that burned."

"How many?"

"I don't know, maybe four?"

Dean's eyes narrow. "Why didn't you tell them this before?"

Charlie fidgets. "I didn't want to have to show you the way. I want to get as far away from them as possible. Not follow them."

Dean looks over his shoulder to Mark, who nods. He chuckles. "We have maps, you know. And really good trackers. But since you thought you'd be clever, you've just bought yourself a passenger seat in the leading truck out of here."

Charlie looks to the two leaders behind Dean, eyes wide. "But…"

Sky snorts. "You would have given us faulty information that could have kept us from possibly saving some of those people. You're cowardice needs to be addressed. It won't do you any good in a world like this."

Charlie falls back in his chair, letting out a breath and a curse in one.

Dean and Sam go back over to Sky and Mark. "Sounds like the leviathans did another round up. We need to find out which base of theirs they took them to. We might be able to save some if we move fast. If anything, we can burn the place."

Mark looks to Sky. "What do you think?"

Sky nods. "We've been training pretty steadily and between recruiting and the learning curve, I think we're set for another strike." He looks to Dean. "Thanks for the help."

Dean shrugs. "Me an' Sam just had a situation like this happen before. We knew it had to be more than just a fire."

Mark leads them out, Sky locking the door of the cabin behind them. "Charlie will stay here while we plan. We should be ready to roll within thirty-six hours."

Dean nods. "We'll be ready. Let us know if you need anything."

Mark chuckles. "I will." He looks to Sky. "Let's get things rolling."

As the two leaders walk into the meeting building to find the other leaders, Sam and Dean stop outside. Dean looks to Sam. "I'm not sure if you should come with us, Sam."

Sam's head whips around to look at him, a glare that could kill drilling right into Dean. "What?" he growls.

"The last time we had to be in the middle of fire you freaked."

Sam grits his teeth. "I'm fine now."

Dean sighs. "You don't know that."

"The hell I don't," he hisses. "No more nightmares, no more flinching, no more hell."

Dean shakes his head, angry. "That isn't proof! Other than the attack on the other post you had the showdown with Dick at, we haven't done anything. You don't know what will happen when you're faced with fire again."

"I'm not a child, Dean! You can't keep telling me what I can and can't do or what I know! You aren't in my head!"

"But I know you and I don't want you to push yourself!"

"You do the exact same thing to yourself!" Sam spits.

"I'm not as injured as you are!" Dean shoots back, taking a step towards Sam.

"I'm not injured! I'm dealing! And I'm getting better!"

"You call shaking after your confrontation with Roman better?"

Sam stumbles back at the vehement hit to what he saw as praise when Dean was comforting him after the incident. He clears his face of all emotion but anger as he practically growls, fists clenching. "Fuck you."

Dean's eyes narrow. "No, Sam. Fuck you. I'm just trying to make sure you have more time to heal!"

"I know when I need more time, Dean! You don't know everything about me!"

And boy, Sam knew that would be a hit. With Dean watching over him since their defeat at the city fire, Dean had taken it upon himself to make sure he knew exactly how Sam was doing. He takes a threatening step forward. "The hell I don't! I know every fucking thing about you, Sam! I'm the one that's made sure I was right there when things were going wrong! I made sure I had a hold on how you were feeling every minute of every day so I could be there for you if you had a moment!"

Sam looks down his nose at Dean through the two feet of separation, eyes angry. "Like that time you carelessly walked away from me in that store?" he hisses, voice wrecked from all the yelling and even more coarse in his angry words.

Dean can't stop himself from sucking in a breath of shock, hurt spilling through his body to make his fist come up and land a bone-jarring punch to Sam's jaw. He keeps himself from feeling sorry for his brother as said brother stumbles back, hand over his jaw. "Don't you ever fucking say I was careless towards you," he hisses.

Sam turns back towards him, eyes alight with furry. Then he kind of explodes.

Both of them have been perfect with each other for the better part of a year now. Little bits of annoyance added to the stress and worry over each other builds up over time. Honestly, they're both surprised this hasn't happened before now. Now, though, there's no thought to anything else as they fight with each other with an intensity that hasn't been matched since the fight over Ruby the day Sam left to let the Devil out of his cage.

They aren't careful with each other. They don't hesitate in going for weak spots. Sam knows Dean's leg and Dean knows Sam's back. Though it's almost done healing now, it's always a little sensitive. They fight dirty because they know they can. They don't give each other an inch. It's dirty and vicious and totally uncalled for, considering. But that's just how they've always been.

They roll around on the ground when they're down, they punch each other when they're up. Words have been lost to grunts and growls. They're down to the basics. They've always been able to communicate without words. They yell with punches, punctuate with bruises, underline with cuts, and end the sentence with a grunt or growl. It's a language that doesn't need to be translated to be understood by either. They're just angry right now.

It goes on for who knows how long. When one finally shoves the other away and they're too tired to jump right back in, they just stand where they stop. Chests heave as lungs burn, eyes still flinty and bodies now covered in dirt. Dean has a small trail of blood running down his temple from where his head had hit the ground. Sam's lip is cut and bleeding from Dean's punches. Bruises are slowly showing up. Various cuts line their arms from sticks and rocks on the ground. They still just stand where they are, breathing at each other.

There's a crowd gathered loosely around them. Most aren't sure what to think if they aren't already shocked or awed. Others are thinking too much and confusing themselves with what this could be about. Mark is in the loose circle with Crow and Drake. All three let the two brother's work things out mentally between them. Mark is the only one who doesn't doubt that they could do this all over again in a second, even as tired as they are. He hopes they give each other a break though. Drew is also in the crowd, standing next to Mark, mouth catching flies.

Dean is the one to finally move, sending a sneer Sam's way as he turns and walks away, the opposite direction from their cabin, limp more evident than it's been since they showed up.

Sam grits his teeth but doesn't make a sound. He only watches him go for a second before he turns and heads towards their cabin, suspiciously rolling a shoulder as if it were hurting. Possibly pulled at a bad angle, considering some of the moves they pulled on each other.

It's the farthest apart anyone has ever seen the Winchesters since they got here.

A guy next to Drew turns to him, eyes wide and a grin pulling over his face. "That was the most epic fight ever!"

Drew glares at him, making the guy shrink back, as he walks away.