Wow! Thanks so much to all who alerted! You guys are awesome! And to Torimiko, thank you so so much for your review, I literally squealed! Anyway, second instalment here! Disclaimers the same, have only changed some of The God's lyrics to fit with context. Slight borrowed dialogue from BTVS, but again altered for my boys. Also, I don't have a 'Beta' (I think they're called?) so all mistakes are my own.

Enjoy! xx

~8~

The bell on top of the diner door dinged dimly.

"So, any new cases?" Dean said as simultaneously sat down at the booth with Sam and flagged a passing waitress. Said waitress promptly flicked her hair and sashayed over to him, all plump lips and curvaceous hips, which to Sam's surprise Dean either didn't notice (impossible as Dean seems to have a homing device specifically set for sexual advancements) or ignored completely (also impossible as Dean is, well, Dean.)

"What can I get for you, handsome?" She could've been wearing her tracksuit for all the attention Dean gave her. That's not to say he was rude. Most certainly not – the Winchester brothers did not do rude – frustrated, sleep-deprived, and irritated yes, but not rude.

Thus, Dean merely replied with, "two coffees, one black with no sugar, and a bacon cheese burger, thanks." He smiled politely then turned back to Sam without so much as a wandering or appraising eye for her (Sam had to admit) rather appealing if buxom figure. Looking flustered and mildly affronted, the waitress moved on.

Sam shook himself from his thoughts and was about to answer Dean's query when the distinct flap of wings signaled the arrival of an angel. Castiel appeared in a small gust of air seated next to Dean. "Hello Dean," he turned his head with that same owlish concentration and nodded in greeting, "Sam."

Sam tried not to read too much into the angel's obvious favouritism.

What followed seemed to be some sort of silent communication only available between a Righteous Man and the Angel that Pulled Him Out of Hell. Sam tried counting but soon gave up when the comedic aspect wore off and the awkward third-wheel effect became so bad it was like finding yourself naked and sandwiched into a seven-minutes-in-heaven closet that was already occupied and having a Tourette's tic that equated to screaming an innuendo every two minutes and twenty-seven seconds – times about fifty.

It was then that the waitress resurfaced with the two coffees and Dean's cheeseburger. Sam briefly marveled at her efficiency but a quick glance around the small town diner revealed barely three other patrons bar themselves (barely as one seemed to have fallen asleep into his pancakes.) She spared a glance for Dean and Cas then back again, seeming to connect the dots, and Sam could only think join the cue. She placed one coffee – the black one with no sugar – and the plate in front of Dean and the other cup in front of Cas, spared a brief, longing glance at Dean, and returned to her post. Dean immediately dug in, waitress all but forgotten, and simply reiterated his question to Sam around a mouthful of cheeseburger, only to be distracted by the resident socially awkward angel.

"Dean, you understand I do not require food or beverages, correct?" Sarcasm or exasperation? Sam could never quite tell.

"Yeah Cas, but it's coffee. Just because you don't need something doesn't mean you can't want it. And vice versa." The two shared another of their deep stares before Cas actually picked up the cup and took a hesitant sip. Sam's mouth fell open with an audible pop. Castiel watched the cup with a concentration fit for one analysing a Van Gough not your average cup of Joe.

"Uh, cases. No, nothing Dean." Sam scrambled to get back to some semblance of Winchester Normal. Discussing cases was normal, meaningful stares between his brother and an Angel of the Lord was not. Yes, Sam saw the hypocrisy in that statement and he promptly ignored it. "It seems everything is actually normal for once. Which, in our life is pretty rare, so perhaps that in itself is worth investigation."

Dean swallowed, took a sip of his coffee, then, casually as you like, as if remarking about weather said, "so," he paused briefly, "neither of you guys burst into song last night?" He took another shark bite then simply looked at Sam and Cas and back again.

Sam blanched before spluttering, "I thought it was just me and Katie!" Sam had refused to follow Dean's method of simply GBV no.1 and no.2.

Cas' voice went unheard by incredulous Sam and amused if slightly perturbed Dean. "I sang, but I was visiting Orpheus and he had his lyre so…"

Eyes wide, Sam's hands told the story more than his mouth, "one minute we were just talking and then the next–"

"Like you were in a musical." Dean finished.

"That would explain the huge backing orchestra I couldn't see and the sudden need to vocalise dramatically." Cas murmured to no one in particular looking with a furrowed brow at his hands.

"Yes!" Sam continued as if Cas hadn't spoken, "Everything rhymed and there were harmonies and then a literal dance around the ghosts attacking us, of which come to think of it, they joined in too."

"It is disturbing," Cas said, finally inserting himself back into the brother's conversation.

"What did you sing about?" Sam looked with genuine curiosity at Dean, head canted to the side and everything. Castiel was rubbing off on him.

Dean took his time swallowing his last mouthful of burger. "I don't remember, but it seemed perfectly normal."

Sam considered himself pretty good at reading people, and reading his brother was like reading his own face, so it didn't take a genius to know Dean was lying. It did make him question why. Unfortunately he missed his opportunity.

"But disturbing. It is of great import that we discover the nature of this curious phenomenon before it becomes dangerous." Cas spoke with deep resolution.

"How could this get dangerous?" Sam wondered.

"Because it always does, Sammy." Dean murmured, voice unexpectedly serious in what seemed such a frivolous situation.

"Don't call me Sammy. Fine, well I suppose we should hit the books then? I mean there's gotta be something out there or at least someone who has a vague inclination of–"

Without warning, Cas leant closer to the two men, elbows on the table and tie uncomfortably close to his coffee, and began singing with a voice much like his speaking one except intensified to angelic levels of swoon-worthy.

(Ladies, please refrain from sighing and melting into puddles of fangirling goo.)

I've got a theory,

That's it is a demon.

A dancing demon?

No, something is not right there.

Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder and smiled.

I've got a theory,

Some kid is dreaming,

And we're all stuck inside his wacky Broadway nightmare.

Dean finished with jazz hands. Sam leaned toward them both and ran a hand through his hair.

I've got a theory we should work this out,

Dean and Cas joined in, throwing surreptitious looks over the shoulders at the other scarce diner occupants.

It's getting eerie,

What's this cheery singing all about?

Dean's face brightened.

It could be witches!

Some evil witches!

But at Sam's look of really Dean it clicked.

Which is ridiculous, cause this doesn't feel personal,

With hex bags in our room and sigils on our ribs,

And I'll be over here.

Slightly dejected with his inadequate theory, Dean held his coffee in his hands, breathing it in, and could practically see the moment the light bulb went off above his brother's head.

I've got a theory, they could be clowns!

Coffee halfway toward his lips, Dean merely stared at Sam as if he'd grown a second head. Shaking his own, he turned to Cas who began, I've got a the–

Only to be cut off by Sam who stood with one giant leg on the table and proceeded to air guitar. Roving spotlights came from nowhere and the music abruptly changed to hard rock.

Clowns aren't just funny like everybody supposes,

They've got them cartoon feet and huge red noses!

And what's with all the make-up?

Why do they need to cover their faces in so much anyway?

Clowns!

Clowns!

It must be clowns!

Sam noticed the looks from both Dean and Cas, and indeed a few of the patrons and mumbled, or maybe fairies?

I've got a theory we should work this fast, Castiel sang and turned grave and slightly reproachful eyes to Sam who looked uncomfortable, and joined in with, because it clearly could get serious before it's passed.

Dean finished his last mouthful of coffee and burger and regarded his brother and his angel before singing.

I've got a theory, it doesn't matter.

What can't we face if we're together?

What's in this place that we can't weather?

Apocalypse?

We're already there.

The same old trips,

Why should we care?

Sam smiled at his brother and for the first time in a long time the smile met his eyes. He harmonised with his Dean.

What can't we do if we get in it?
We'll work it through within a minute.

Together they stood, as brothers, as warriors, as friends, as those same two young boys who travelled around so long ago just wanting to make a difference.

We have to try,
We'll pay the price!
It's do or die,

Dean grinned, hey, I've died more than twice.

The brothers swapped light punches in the shoulder, voices a harmony of Dean's depth and Sam's smoothness, what can't we face if we're together?

Cas murmured what can't we face as he too rose to stand with the brothers, a soldier, a warrior, a brother, a rebel; wayward yet found in this niche of misfits he'd aligned himself with.

Dean clapped Castiel on the shoulder again as he and Sam sang, what's in this place that we can't weather?

Cas looked from Sam then to Dean and regarded his face intently, if we're together…

Team Free Will at it's finest. Dean, Sam, and Cas looked at each other, Dean with a triumphant smile on his face that slowly spread to Sam and Cas, there's nothing we can't face.

Sam sighed then slumped back down into his seat, except for clowns.

~8~

So, what did you think? Please share your thoughts/suggestions/questions/Buddhist proverbs! Next chapter should be up soon, reviews help my upload rate! ;) Thanks for your support guys! xx