Thanks to Gredelina1 for all the help and support she gave me writing this chapter.

Chapter Eight

Sam had always been a talker. The only times he was usually quiet was in his brother's company. They seemed to have developed a silent form of communication that Castiel couldn't quite understand. It was all about the quirk of lips and the lines in a forehead. Castiel didn't have that method of communication with Sam, so they would talk. But Sam wasn't talking now. He was flipping the pages of a book much too fast to be reading and scowling down at the pages. He had been like that since shortly after Dean had been persuaded to go to bed, an hour after Kevin had been frogmarched out by his mother. Castiel guessed he was bored, but he didn't know how to entertain him. Until recently, he'd not spent much time with Sam without there being a purpose behind it. They'd been almost exclusively in each other's company for the past two months, searching for Dean, but they'd always been focused on the search, and downtime had been practically unknown. Sam would search until exhausted and then search some more until Castiel reminded him he would need strength when they did find Dean again, which would make him sleep. There had been nothing entertaining about that time.

Sam looked up suddenly, a frown creasing his brow. "You feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"Feel me!" Kevin said, appearing beside Sam. "And please don't. That'd be weird."

Sam laughed. Castiel felt a twinge of something indefinable. Sam had gone from moody and quiet to grinning and laughing with the mere arrival of Kevin. He had thought, over the last year, that he and Sam had grown closer, there'd been hugs even, but he'd not been able to trigger this reaction in Sam.

"Thought you were under house arrest," Sam said. "Momma Tran hand over the ring?"

Kevin shook his head and grinned. "Nah, I snagged it from her purse after she fell asleep. I was going crazy there with nothing to do and no one to talk to, so I figured it was time to rebel."

"She's going to be pissed. And she did have a point; you can't spend all your time on the tablet." Sam looked apologetically at Castiel as if expecting him to argue. "You'll get burned out."

Kevin had spent hours the day before on the tablet, trying to decipher the symbols. He said Metatron hadn't wanted anyone to be able read the angel tablet and therefore it was much harder to decipher. He was working on translating each individual symbol as a separate entity. Then, apparently, it would be a case of piecing the individual parts together like a puzzle. As proved, Kevin was good at puzzles. Castiel had hope that they would be able to reopen Heaven without the involvement or torture of Metatron. Not that Castiel was technically against hurting him…

"I'll get back before she wakes up," Kevin said. "Besides, I'm not here for the tablet. I'm here for you guys."

Castiel frowned. How was Kevin being there going to do anything for them if he wasn't working on the tablet.

"Well, you really, Sam," Kevin said. "I was thinking. We need to train you up?"

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Train me how exactly?"

"Ghost school. You've got the basics down, right, like manifesting touch, but you're not physically here yet. That'll take practice."

Sam looked at him intently. "Can you make it so Dean can see me?"

Kevin shook his head and Sam looked disheartened.

"No need for the butt-hurt face," Kevin said. "I can't make anything happen, but you can. There's a bunch of cool stuff you can do. Manipulating temperature for one. Mom's got this neighbor, real dick bag. He hasn't had a hot shower in weeks. He's had three different plumbers come out so far."

Sam laughed. "How do you do it?"

"It's all about concentration and wanting it bad enough. That's pretty much how it works for everything. Like this…" He held out his hand and the book Sam had been reading shot into his hand.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, "Yeah, not sure I want to be doing that." His expression was dark and Castiel was sure he was thinking of his telekinetic ability to hold demons in place when he was drinking demon blood.

Kevin frowned. "Why not? It's cool."

"I don't think Dean would like it," Sam said quietly.

Kevin nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. No telekinesis. There's still plenty you can do though." He clapped his hands together. "We're gonna have so much fun."

This didn't seem like the soundest use of their time to Castiel, but then again, he had just been contemplating his inability to entertain Sam, so perhaps it was for the best. It couldn't be all work for Sam and Kevin. They needed to relax sometimes if they were to remain in control of themselves.

"Anything?" Sam asked impatiently.

Castiel shook his head. They were in the kitchen and Castiel was standing with his hand under the faucet. He was supposed to be feeling for a change in the water temperature, and while feeling the warmth rushing over the palm of his hand was pleasant, it was a little dull after the first five minutes.

It was the third night of what Kevin called Ghost School and Sam called a waste of time. They weren't making a lot of progress. What Sam seemed to want more than anything was to be able to manifest physically for Dean, and he wasn't having any success. He tested it continuously during the day, stepping in front of Dean, but other than feeling the temperature drop when Sam was in close proximity to him, Dean couldn't see a thing.

Kevin said Sam was psyching himself out, blocking himself with his desperation to do it now. He had already made great progress in his abilities in a short space of time, but Sam seemed to feel like a failure.

Why it was so important for Sam to be able to manipulate the temperature of water wasn't clear to Castiel—he had no annoying neighbors to deal with—but in their more lighthearted moments, Sam and Kevin laughed a lot about it.

"Okay, let's try something else," Kevin said after another few minute's attempts.

Sam shut off the faucet and turned. "Like what?"

"Ghost fighting," Kevin said. "There are a lot of vengeful spirits out there now, and if you come into contact with them, you need to be able to defend yourself and others."

Sam looked skeptical. "You want me to fight you?"

Kevin nodded happily. "Yep."

Castiel thought this was an epically bad idea. Sam was much larger than Kevin and he had a lifetime of fighting behind him. Kevin, for all his positive attributes, was much smaller and devoid of combat training.

"C'mon, Sam," Kevin said. "It's not like you can kill me."

"Still…" Sam said. "I don't want to hurt you."

Kevin smiled and there was something more than amusement in his expression. He looked a little evil. "You're assuming you can hurt me. So far, you've not exactly been rocking your lessons. I'll probably end up kicking your ass."

Sam glowered at him. "I was acing fight training while you were acing kindergarten."

"Prove it!"

Sam stepped forward, his hands fisted.

"Wait!" Castiel said, holding up his hands. "I think we should move this conversation somewhere there are less breakables. Dean seems attached to this kitchen and he won't be happy if you trash it."

Sam nodded. "Okay. There's a gym past the living quarters. We can use that."

He and Kevin flickered out of sight and Castiel sighed heavily. He missed his wings.

When he got to the gym, Kevin was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands fisted in front of him. Sam was standing opposite him and looking reluctant.

"Really, Kevin, I can defend myself fine. I don't need to whale on you to show that."

"You could defend yourself," Kevin said. "That was when you were alive. Things have changed. Now, quit stalling and fight me already."

Sam looked at Castiel, an imploring look on his face. Castiel shook his head. Kevin had a point; Sam did need to be able to defend himself. Besides, he was a little curious about how this would end.

Sam huffed. "Fine." He squared his stance and swung an arm through the air, aligned perfectly for Kevin's jaw. Before it could land, Kevin had moved. He ducked back and gripped Sam's wrist. With a few swift twists, he had it pinned behind Sam's back in a half-nelson. He held it for only a few beats before releasing Sam and pushing him away.

Sam looked stunned and Kevin used his moment of inaction to land three blows to his head, one after the other.

"Kevin! Quit hitting me!" he said in what couldn't be called a whine but it was close.

"Make me," Kevin said, circling Sam with his fists clenched in front of his face. "You're the mighty hunter after all. I'm just a prophet."

Sam lurched forward and aimed a blow at Kevin's jaw. Kevin dodged back and the momentum kept Sam turning. Kevin used his capitulation to launch himself at Sam and jump into his back.

Sam spun around, with Kevin clinging to him and laughing raucously. Castiel couldn't help it. He had to smile. He had been worried that Sam would hurt Kevin, when in reality he was being soundly beaten by the younger—and much smaller—man.

Dean rolled over and pulled the pillow closer over his head. He couldn't sleep and it was starting to get old. Before, if he couldn't sleep, he would go get himself a drink, but Sam and Castiel seemed to have commandeered the main rooms of the bunker for themselves. The last time he'd tried to join them in the early hours of the morning, they'd clucked like mother hens and warned him about getting burned out. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have given two craps about what they said, but Sam had the whole ghost thing going on which made it harder to say no to him when he was all concerned.

Things weren't easy for Dean. He was dealing with the memories of what he had done as a demon, and trying desperately to not show it to Sam. He had done a lot of awful things, hurt a lot of people, and he couldn't forget that. He knew if the situation was different, the guilt would have crippled him, but Sam was there still, and he had to be strong for him. Sam had enough to be dealing with; he didn't need an emotionally screwed brother, too.

He punched the pillow into a more comfortable shape and slammed down against the mattress again. He closed his eyes and tried to force all thoughts out of his mind. It worked for all of a few seconds before something else caught his attention. Someone was laughing. It was muffled, coming from further down the hall somewhere, but it was definitely real.

He climbed out of bed, pulled on a t-shirt, and shoved his feet into his boots. The bunker might be home, but he wasn't padding around barefoot when Castiel didn't even remove his coat. That would be weird.

As he opened the door and moved out onto the hall, he realized the sound was coming from the gym. Whoever it was, they were still laughing. The only people in the bunker when Dean had gone to bed were Sam and Castiel, and though it didn't sound like Sam's laughter, Dean doubted it was Castiel either. An inkling of hope came to him. Perhaps it was Sam. That would mean he'd got enough ghostly mojo to make himself heard. That would be awesome. As good as it was to have Sam's words passed on through Castiel or Kevin, it would be so much better if they could have a conversation without an interpreter. It would almost he as good as being able to see Sam.

He made his way along down to the gym and paused at the door as he took in the bizarre sight. Castiel was standing against the wall, and though he wasn't laughing, he was smiling widely at the spectacle in front of him. Kevin was circling on the balls of his feet, with his fists raised in front of him. As Dean watched. He struck out a fist into thin air and laughed again.

"C'mon, Sam," he said gleefully. "It's getting embarrassing now."

Dean sidled over to stand beside Castiel. "What's going on?"

"Kevin thought it would be a good idea for Sam to have some fight training. They've been sparring for about an hour now."

"You're kidding! Sam'll destroy him."

Kevin turned to face Dean. "He wishes."

Sam seemed to use Kevin's momentary distraction to land a blow on Kevin's jaw. The younger man's head rocked back. Dean had been on the receiving end of one of Sam's roundhouse punches more than once, and he knew just how hard Sam could lay the blow with his giant paws, but rather than being knocked off balance as Dean expected, Kevin shook his head. "Well done, Sam," he said sarcastically. "That one almost hurt."

Dean laughed. "Sammy, you're letting the side down. Where's your Winchester pride?"

"You try!" Castiel said, and Dean knew he was speaking for Sam. "It's not as easy as it looks!"

"I would, but you know, ghost! Unless you want me to load up salt rounds to defend you, you're going to have to handle this one alone."

Kevin was forced back a few steps and his laughter faltered. "That's more like it! Use the anger, Sam."

Dean could only see one side of the fight, but even he could see Sam had gained the upper hand. He wasn't thrilled that Sam was apparently angry now, but when Kevin's head rocked back and he grimaced, he had to admit it was satisfying. Kevin couldn't really be hurt, so Sam learning to defend himself was all good.

He leaned back against the cinderblock wall beside Castiel and watched his brother reclaim some Winchester pride.

They sparred for hours, and though Sam had gained the ability to fight, he wasn't completely able to block all Kevin's jabs. Occasionally, Castiel would share what Sam was saying, and it was pretty funny to hear 'Give me a break, Kev' in Castiel's deep and inflectionless tone.

Eventually, Kevin had to go—to sneak the ring back into his mother's purse.

Dean trailed out of the gym and into his bedroom. Despite the fact he hadn't slept at all, he felt energized and awake. Laughter had been what he needed, and between them, Kevin and Sam had delivered.

He grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to clean up. He set the water running and stood in front of the mirror for a moment, assessing his appearance. There were shadows under his eyes that Sam would definitely bitch about, but his eyes themselves were bright for a change. At first, Dean hadn't been able to look in the mirror without seeing black eyes staring back at him, but it had got easier as time passed.

Stepping under the hot spray of water, he raked his hands through his hair, feeling the heat seep into him. With his eyes closed, he reached for the shampoo and squeezed it onto his palm then slicked it through his hair. He would need to shop for more soon. Sam usually took care of things like that. Dean used to tease him about it, the fact Sam preferred a specific brand.

Suddenly, the water switched from steaming hot to freezing cold. He jumped away from the spray and smacked the pipes, but the temperature remained resolutely icy. He cursed loudly and fluidly, and heard an answering laugh.

He knew that laugh. He had heard it before, many times over the course of his life.

He yanked back the shower curtain and stared with his mouth open.

"Sammy?"

So… Dean can see Sam. Finally, right? In the next chapter they'll finally be able to have the talk I know some of you have been waiting impatiently for.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx