Part Two- The Coming of the Tide

Chapter 11

"You have reached the voicemail of…" Dean ended the call and threw his phone out of frustration. Sam would pick it up. He's been like a hawk these past three weeks; ready to swoop in the moment Dean had an emotional breakdown. Which he did once. Ok…twice. But it was only out of frustration.

"You alright, Dean," his brother's voice carried up the hill right on schedule. Dean shouldn't be angry with the kid. He always appreciated Sammy's softer side. But he was just so damn sick of saying it!

"Yeah…I'm fine." Sam climbed up the hill to stand with his brother and they surveyed the crowd gathering below them. He chose an insignificant back road with a dusty parking lot. Nothing that would mean anything to anyone except for those who knew. This was where the Roadhouse once stood. There wasn't much that remained of it now, but it was a reminder of what the enemy was capable of and right now, he needed these people to be reminded damn hard.

"Tell me again what he said," Dean asked his brother, and then clenched his jaw hard. Cold. Ice. He needed to be hard. He couldn't let any of these people see hurt or doubt on his face if he expected to lead them.

"Come on, Dean," Sam whined, expecting him to give over, but Dean turned and glared daggers at his brother. Today of all days. Today of all days; he couldn't answer his phone. Sam sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"He said that if we needed him we should call and…he would be here." Dean let out a dry laugh. Yeah, some angel he was. He can't even keep his word.

"Dean, you know he still cares," Sam offered but Dean was already moving past him.

Hell of a way for you to show it, Dean thought.

Dean…Dean…he could still hear the angel whisper in his head. The way he did when his hands cradled Dean's face and his lips warmed Dean's own.

Dean closed his eyes. He would allow himself this one moment to reflect on his memories. The bitter sharp blade of pain, and the rejection he felt from the man he trusted to always be there for him. The regret he felt that he didn't say more. That he didn't try harder. He shouldn't have run away all those times. He should have scooped him up the moment he walked into their motel with his Santa sack of burgers and hid him away somewhere. Alone. Well, alone with Dean. Christ, he needed to get over this.

Dean opened his eyes once more and surveyed the crowd below him. Some were mingling a little with each other, but most of them stood generous distances apart from one another and merely stared up at Dean, waiting for an explanation to all this. Dean felt his nerves waiver a little. If the angel was here, he could lay support to Dean's claim, and everything would go a lot more smoothly. Why couldn't he just answer the damn phone? No. Cold. Ice. Dean stepped forward to receive them.

Sam watched his brother account to the hunters everything they had learned. The situation was far worse than what either of them could have imagined. The vetala's warning to them came far too late to matter. Which, Sam supposed, was the whole intent.

Dean accounted the results of their scouting that revealed Vampire nests far larger than any they had seen before, and a werewolf pack that one hunter/tracker told them could be upwards to fifty strong. Fifty! The comingling of monster types was just as bad. They found nests of dozens of monsters of different origins, some they had not even encountered before, and could do little about. The numbers were just too big. They were too risky; any assault would have been suicide. The only way they would be able to even stand a chance is if everyone united under one banner and started to counter strike. Dean hoped that banner would be his. Sam just hoped he would be able to convince them because he was quite sure any other hunter leading would probably get them killed.

Things would have been a lot easier years ago when they still had allies like Jo, and Ellen, and Bobby. Back then, they were formidable and respected. Lately, however, they were known to carry death with them and most hunters tried to avoid any long interactions with the Winchester boys. Things went from bad to worse when Castiel disappeared. Hell, Dean wouldn't even say his name anymore. Their trio turned into a duo once more, and the hole Cas left felt like a gaping wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.

"This is impossible," one of the hunters was saying and Sam moved to stand next to his brother. "There is no way a gorgon is going to pair up with a succubus. It's just crazy!"

"Look around you!" Dean shouted, "Call your contacts! Read the news for Christ's sake! This thing is happening and they already are picking us apart one by one. We wait much longer, there won't be enough of us to stop it!" Sam wondered if they had enough to stop it anyway. Of the hundred and twenty five hunters that Sam knew of, only thirty five stood before them. Were the others too stupid to see the writing on the wall? Or were they dead already? He suspected a little of both.

"If this is true," a red headed hunter chimed in; Sam remembered her to be Jackie, "and we do need to band together to fight this war you're going on about, why is it that you are the one that calls all the shots?" And there was the rub. Sam tried to steady his breathing and keep his face calm. He knew that he had a tendency to…give things away with his expression. He did get lucky at poker once, but he really was a horrible bluff.

"Because," Dean said flatly, "I have an angel."

"An angel?!" Jackie barked and then spat on the ground between them. Oh yeah, and that was attractive. "You really expect us to believe that?"

"What angel, Winchester, I don't see him." Said another hunter.

"His name… his name is Castiel," said Dean coldly, "and he will be here. When it matters. Look, the point is, he isn't going to follow the direction of anyone else besides me and we need him to fight with us. He's as good as a dozen hunters." The hum of muffled conversation between the hunters rose up at hearing this. Friends and allies turned to one another to discuss Dean's offer. Dean let them speak; his face was hard and unreadable.

Castiel, where the hell are you? Sam thought. He didn't think the angel would really just bail on them, and his prolonged absence had Sam seriously worried that something was wrong with him.

"Enough chit chat," Dean barked and Sam winced. His brother could have been a little more tactful in his approach. "Will you stand with me or not?"

The hunters looked up at Dean and then exchanged glances with each other. Jackie was the first to spin around and make her way back to her motorcycle. Figures she would be riding one of those. Some other hunters followed her path and tucked their heads as they moved away from the crowd.

"You're all going to die out there alone and outnumbered!" Dean shouted after them, but at least twenty still remained. Twenty was better than none.

"Dean let me talk to the ones that stayed," offered Sam. Dean waved all of them off as he trudged back to his car. How long has it been since Sam saw him smile? How cold has he really gotten inside? Sam watched him for a moment and then turned towards the people below.

"Hey," he said casually as he walked into the crowd, and a few smiled at him. This was a good start. Little brother Sammy could be charming too.