Fic: Dean Winchester, Patron Saint: Holy Rolling Stoner

Sep 29, 2014 18:14

Title: Dean Winchester, Patron Saint: Holy Rolling Stoner
Author: alexjanna91
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean, [Spoiler]Inias
Series: Apple Pie Life
Rating: PG-PG13
Genre: AU Post-Season 5
Word Count: 6,787
Warning: BAMF!Dean, Parental!Dean, kids, kids in dangers, serial killer, angels, true form
Summary: Dean really shouldn’t have been surprised that a trip to the aquarium with eleven kids could be any more perilous than it already was. Nothing in Dean’s life could ever be that uncomplicated.
A/N: Second fic in the Dean Winchester, Patron Saint arc in the Apple Pie Life series


*

Okay, so Dean was crazy. Or at least that’s what he’d decided. The school district declared this Friday a teacher planning day, whatever that meant, and Dean had decided that since his parents still had to go to work that he would take the kids all day.

Unfortunately, that entails waking up at six in the morning clutching his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him conscious and answering the door at seven forty-five to the bright eyed and bushy tailed kids swarming him with loud voices and manic “school’s canceled” glee. It was torture. So much torture. Worse than anything Alistair could have come up with.

Dean must have a bigger masochist streak than he realized because he loved every second of it. Not that he would show it. No, he grouched and grumbled and growled all morning. Of course, the kids had his number and just giggled and rolled their eyes at his attempts to be in a bad mood.

His stupidity didn’t end there however. He had promised the kids that he would take them to the aquarium in the afternoon. Prying another fifteen dollars out of the parents, on top of the fifty per week they usually paid him, for the entrance fee, Dean was totally unprepared for the chaos that was getting the kids to the aquarium and through it without any death or dismemberment. He figured he’s lucky if he didn’t have to fish one of them out of the shark tank.

“Everybody have their salt?” Nods all around. The kids pulled their little plastic canisters out of their pockets.

He’d already told the kids that if they didn’t have the anti-fugly stuff with them when they showed up Friday morning, he would personally escort them around the aquarium as punishment.

Surprisingly, it seemed like that wasn’t much of punishment ‘cause a couple of the kids looked like they were contemplating forgetting the salt just to hang out with him. A firm glare put a stop to that, but he was still bewildered that any kid would want to hang out with a stuffy old adult like him.

“Holy water?” He asked. Plastic vials pulled out and brandished as proof.

“Anti-possession charms? If any of you don’t have them I swear I will leave you here, don’t think I won’t.” He started to shake his finger at them threateningly and had to stop himself. The fact that he almost acted like a bitchy librarian was horrifying.

Necklaces all around and Dean sighed in relief. He wouldn’t have actually left them behind because he had extras, and their disappointed faces would have killed him. But still, it was nice to know he actually had some authority. He commanded the kids with the expectation that they would follow his lead and they seemed to respond to his confidence in them by actually behaving. But regardless of how they behaved, everybody knew the kids had him twisted around their little fingers.

“Alright, good. Everybody partner up. You will watch your partner’s back and they will watch yours. If I see anything less, you’ll be stuck with me for the duration. Capiche?” Vigorous nods and a rush to grab partners and line up double file.

He only had eleven kids today. Hugh and Cary were out with chickenpox, Michael and Andre were stuck in junior football practice, Akiko was visiting family, Jeremy was retaking some tests he’d failed, and Emily and Justin were spending one of Hart’s rare days off with him.

All partnered up, they were ready to file out and jump into the SUV Dean had purloined from Laurie Grant. The only snag they had was when Dean caught a look at what Todd had worn that day. The kid had actually worn loafers and had a sweater tied around his shoulders.

“Kid, we’re not going to a yacht club. Take that sweater off and put these on.” Dean shoved a pair of tennis shoes borrowed from Errol at him and waited patiently for the kid to tie them.

Soon enough they were filing out and Dean was strapping the two extra kids in with tie-downs usually reserved for hauling stuff in a pickup truck. Better safe than sorry. It was still highly illegal so Dean drove the speed limit and took the turns slow.

The aquarium was huge and kinda shaped like a coral reef which Dean thought was actually pretty cool. Kids piled out of the SUV like a clown car and Dean was soon leading them to the front entrance like little ducklings all neat and double file behind him with the three youngest kids in the middle, just like he’d taught them. No one broke ranks even though they were practically quivering with excitement.

Dean spied a few mothers and fathers struggling to control their one or two kids screaming and running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were all staring at Dean and his little troop of mini-angels (metaphorically speaking; Dean was drowning in angels already he didn’t need to be babysitting them).

He hid a smug smile and marched up to the front desk, his kids following obediently. Tickets paid for and wristbands distributed in an orderly fashion, Dean stopped in the entrance way and turned to his kids.

“Alright kiddos. Stay in my line of sight, watch your partner’s back, and don’t get eaten by sharks.” Dean grinned as the kids all giggled at that. “Let’s do this!”

That was the signal and the kids were all off in different directions. They stayed to whatever exhibit of the aquarium Dean was in and periodically checked in with him all gushing about the cool sea creatures they’d seen.

Dean and Clark were admiring a tank mounted inside a wall holding a jelly fish lighting up in rave like fiber-optic colors when he spotted a flash out of the corner of his eye; one ring around its neck and one around its right wrist, two pairs of rolling storm cloud wings, and the second head of a deer.

Blinking, Dean watched the long haired dude in a vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt with week old scruff hovering over Todd and Rachel in front of a bioluminescent starfish tank. The angel was absolutely fascinated in turns by the fish and by the kids chattering away with each other.

Genuinely curious, the angel was staring at the kids like he could divine just why they seemed to like the starfish so much. Dean got the distinct impression he was actually surprise that they could appreciate it. He wasn’t threatening or even drawing too much attention, but it was only a matter of time before one of the other adults in the area spotted the scruffy stoner standing way too close to the kids.

Angels and their personal space issues, sheesh. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Rachel, Todd.” They looked over at him and seemed to finally notice the dude standing over them. Small frowns wrinkled their brows as they edged around him. Dean was proud of that. Their instincts were getting better.

“Why don’t ya’ll go check out the sea anemones with Sunny and Sidney?” The kids knew it wasn’t a suggestion and hurriedly moved off toward their friends.

The angel’s gaze followed them the entire way, totally absorbed in watching how the kids interacted together. Yeah, that’s going to be a problem with the paranoid parents all around them.

Ushering Clark, Daniel, and Melanie toward the other kids down further into the bioluminescent section, Dean walked over to the angel.

He saw Dean coming and acknowledged him with a serene smile. He acted more human than most of other angels he’d seen so far; except maybe Alfie, but he’d been hanging around the kids long enough that some of it has rubbed off on him by now.

Moving to stand next to him, Dean said, “You’re one of my regulars.” The angel’s expression flickered, not understanding. “You watch me, us a lot. I’ve seen you hanging around.”

That seemed to surprise him. “You are not supposed to see us.”

Snorting, Dean said, “Buddy, I got to tell you, you guys aren’t as stealthy as you think.”

The angel leaned toward Dean forcing him to lean away to avoid bumping noses. He hadn’t thought it was possible for an angel to invade even more of his space, but apparently he was wrong. The angel looked at him, into him; their eyes were locked and Dean couldn’t look away.

After a long moment he tilted his head and moved back. “Interesting.”

Okay, that didn’t bode well. When an angel declared you interesting that was when the “Danger! Here there be dragons!” sign started flashing neon.

Dean was just so not going to ask, though. He refused, absolutely refused to be dragged back into the angel shit. That hadn’t worked out well for him before and it couldn’t possibly work out for him now… Okay so he was already neck deep in it considering he’d suddenly become, alternately, a circus attraction and an angelic shrink.

Whatever, he still wasn’t asking.

“Okay, I’m just going to ignore you even said that and ask you which member of the God squad you are.”

The angel blinked, but, thankfully, didn’t elaborate on the interesting. “My name is Inias.”

That seemed to be a universal answer to that question, “My name is [insert random smushing of syllables here].” At least this angel’s name didn’t have like a hundred vowels in it.

“Alrighty, then. How about you stop hovering like a creeper and just hang out with us. That way none of the skittish parents will call the cops on you ‘cause they think you’re a pedo.” Dean watched the angel mull that over.

“That is acceptable.” Seriously, what happened to contractions?

“Awesome. You can help me keep an eye on the munchkins. I must be crazy to take eleven kids under the age of twelve out in public by myself.”

Inias looked him in the eyes again and told him, completely seriously, “Do not worry. You are completely mentally sound.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a figure of speech,” Dean waved it off, used to angels taking things he said way too literally. “Come on, let’s go make sure none of the kids have drowned, or anything.”

“I was not aware that was a possibility in this establishment.” He actually looked horrified that one of kids might have drowned while they had their little chat.

“Again; figure of speech.” Dean repeated and sauntered off toward where his kids had all gathered together apprehensively. Yeah, he’d trained his kids well.

Inias followed him, not that there was even a doubt that he would. It seemed like the angels followed him around just like his kids did, like little ducklings. Had he turned into the pied piper of kids and angels when he wasn’t looking?

“Okay, kids. This is Inias. He’s going to follow us around and hopefully not get arrest for being a creeper.” Dean said. By the blank faces all around him, it was obvious that last bit had flown over the angel and kid’s heads. He sighed. “If you see anyone looking at him funny, just act like he’s another chaperone, okay?”

“Is he friends with Castiel and Alfie, too?” Rachel asked. The kids all looked at him expectantly.

“Yep,” Dean nodded. “He is, so it would be very bad if he got arrested.”

The kids all nodded back with serious little frowns on their faces. It was adorable and Dean just wanted to pinch their cheeks. Jesus, he was turning into such a chick. What’s next? Watching Hallmark movies and willingly talking about his feelings?

With another sigh, Dean swept his arms toward the next exhibit. “Let’s go kids. There’s more fun to be had.”

It went pretty well from there. Inias took Dean’s invite as implicit permission to question the kids about absolutely everything. Dean would have been worried about it if the kids and the angel both didn’t obviously get such a kick out of each other.

They answered his questions in various degrees of coherence and he didn’t hesitate to answer their questions in return. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that a being literally older than dirt would know everything there was to know about the creatures on Earth. Dean actually found some of what Inias was telling kids pretty fascinating.

He seemed to instinctively phrase his answers and explanations in a way that the kids could understand. Dean suspected he had taken more than a few peeks into their heads to see how their minds worked. He decided not to make a fuss about it. The kids liked him and it was obvious that Inias at least appreciated them as “God’s beloved creatures” or whatever the angels were calling us lowly humans nowadays.

It was a better title than mud monkeys at least.

The only hiccup, and it was pretty big hiccup, came when the kids reached the tank where they could actually touch the fish; baby manta rays and star fish and whatever else the handlers thought were relatively harmless animals.

The kids lined up in an orderly fashion with no pushing or shoving, completely shaming the other parents that had obnoxious uncontrollable little shits for offspring. Dean smothered another smug smile, but couldn’t enjoy the satisfaction for long. He could feel how, beneath the screaming misbehavior, the kids were restless, confused, and lost without any kind of parental structure.

He pushed those thoughts away and focused his attention back on his own kids. Not, however, before he caught the considering look on Inias’ face as he watched Dean.

Sending the angel a preemptive scowl, Dean looked back over to the action.

Two by two, his kids all stuck their hands in, giggling madly when the fish brushed against their fingers. Inias, as well was observing the spectacle with concentration, watching the children, the animals, and the handlers all.

Dean watched Inias with one eye while he watched his kids with the other. That was the only reason he even caught the change in the angel’s demeanor. A fierce scowl raced across the angel’s face and Dean had a split second to grab his arm in a hard restraining grip. He was sure if he hadn’t actually done that the handler the angel was glaring a hole through would have been a smoky charred pile on the floor right then.

“Stop.” He commanded, channeling his inner John Winchester. His voice brooked no argument and surprisingly, the angel stilled in his grip; balancing on the tip of his toes ready to spring at a moment’s notice, but for the time being he was held precariously in check. “You can’t start smiting people in an aquarium with dozens of people around.”

There was no visible reaction to his words, but Dean knew that the angel was no longer considering just vaporizing the perceived threat.

Dean glanced over to the man that had Inias going from calm and friendly to biblical levels of wrath like the flipping of switch. The guy looked completely normal; blond hair, medium build, brown eyes, and a friendly smile. He was average and unremarkable in every way.

Dean’s own radar suddenly started pinging.

“What do you see?”

Never shifting his gaze, Inias answered, “He is a man of despicable thoughts.”

“Despicable like…?” Dean trialed off to lead Inias to elaborate. He needed some clarification before he let an angel go Punisher on some random dude in the middle of an aquarium.

If it was even possible, the angel’s wrathful expression deepened. “He has violent desires toward young blond women. He has already exercised this desire on seven women in the last two years.” He paused and Dean felt him take a breath with his entire being. “Their souls now reside in Heaven.”

Shit. Dean was suddenly reminded of the case Hart had been working on for the last three months. It’d been tearing the guy up, no leads, no witnesses. He actually brought Dean in and had him look over the files. Unfortunately, Dean couldn’t find any evidence of monster activity. No parts of the bodies were missing to indicate hungry monster and they didn’t have any of the telltale signs of being witch or pagan god sacrifices. It could have been a demon or ghost, but Hart confirmed that there was absolutely no sulfur at any of the crime scenes and no ectoplasm or EMF.

Dean really wanted to let Inias loose like an angelic attack dog, but he still couldn’t do that in the middle of a bunch of kids and parents.

Just as this logical thought entered his head, Dean saw serial killer guy lay a hand on Errol’s shoulder. He felt adrenaline surge through him and he almost let himself storm over and forcibly yank the guy’s arm out its socket and beat him with it for touching one of his kids. His kids weren’t this guy’s type, but that didn’t matter when Dean was violently opposed to the asshole’s taint rubbing off on his charges.

“Errol! Come tell me about the manta ray.” Dean ordered just barely keeping his voice level, the forced lightness in it wavered.

The kid jerked his head around and in a split second took in the look in Dean’s eyes and raced over. He grabbed Dean’s hand and clutched it tight. He didn’t say anything and other than the physical contact hadn’t given anything away.

Trusting Inias not to do anything stupid, Dean released his arm and crouched down grabbing Errol by the arms his expression hard and serious.

“I need to you start the monster telephone line, like Detective Jeffery and Detective Ashley taught you. Be stealthy about it. Tell them to hurry and finish what they’re doing and come back to me.” Errol paled and swallowed nervously.

Dean gave the little boy’s arms a light squeeze and smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m going to be right here until you all get back and Inias is going to be watching the entire time. If anything happens we’ll be there at light speed, okay?”

Looking steadier now, Errol nodded and turned to walk hurriedly over to the first of his friends he came to. He whispered in her ear; her eyes widened and she shot a look at Dean before rushing off to tell the next kid.

And so it went until all kids were subdued and gathered around Dean like he was a kid magnet. Melanie, Clark, and Daniel were on the inside ring closest to him and the other kids circling around in order of age. Inias was still staring the serial killer down and Dean was still trying to figure out a way to alert Hart that his bad guy was working the underwater petting zoo at the aquarium.

“Inias,” The angel cocked his head, listening, “Can you get into the police station to look at the case file they have on his murders?”

“Yes,” was his succinct answer. It was suddenly easy to see that he, like all angels, was first and foremost a soldier.

“I need you to see if there is any evidence that could point Hart at this guy. Come back and we’ll figure out what to do then.”

Dean felt a stir in the air, “Don’t just fly off now!” He hissed at the angel. “Find a spot without people around.”

Inias gave him a look, obviously of the opinion that the delay was illogical, but he didn’t argue. He walked away from Dean’s gaggle and turned a corner. Dean sighed, he could tell Inias was gone; it was only a matter of time before the angel came back with something he could use.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go sniff the smelly penguins.” The kids still looked spooked by the abrupt change in atmosphere, but they didn’t argue. They followed behind him into the next exhibit and soon they were energetic children again.

The attention span of childhood is short. Dean was pretty sure kids had the attention spans of a squirrel on crack.

He kept one eye on his kids while he constantly scanned the area around him. He didn’t let the kids scatter and wonder around in their pairs like they had been. They kept to the group and moved along when he told them to.

It was all of three minutes since Inias had flown off when Dean a felt a gust of wind like wings flapping.

“What did you find?”

“There is sufficient evidence. The police will be able arrest him.” Inias answered.

“Awesome.” Dean pulled out his cell and dialed. “Inias, watch the kids. Protect them.” He got a nod and Dean stepped away to a quiet corner.

“Hart.”

“Your serial killer, the one killing those girls; he’s working the petting tank at the aquarium.”

There was a long moment of silence then Hart spoke, voice cautious and stoic. “Do you have proof of this?”

“A friend of mine took a look at your case files. All the evidence you need is in there. You just needed to put it together.” Dean said, turning his head to check on the angel and his kids. It looked like the angel was taking his order very seriously. He glared like holy fire at anyone that got too close his charges.

“How,” Hart started, sounding like he was trying to regulate his tone of voice, “did your friend see the files? I don’t remember letting you take them home.”

Dean snorted and grinned a little in amusement. “He can fly and go invisible.”

“Right.” Another long pause, then, “What exactly do I need to be looking for?”

Good question. Dean should have asked that before he pulled out his phone. He looked up at Inias at ask him but the angel was already looking at him.

“The chemicals in the water in the girls’ lungs matches that of the water in the aquarium tanks where he drowned them.

The aquarium wristbands left matching bruises on their wrists when he ripped them off.

Carly Sampson had a water logged receipt for the aquarium in her pocket dating back to the day she died.

Jennifer Gainer texted her sister about the “touchy blond handler at the petting tank”.

Stephany Zephyr acquired his skin cells under her fingers when she scratched at his arms as he drowned her.

If that is insufficient, the security camera has all seven young women briefly interacting with Frank Dillard on the days they disappeared.”

Dean sucked in a sharp gasp for air and gave a choked cough trying to get his throat working correctly again. He didn’t realize that the other end of the line was deadly silent until he could breathe without trying to hack up a lung.

“Hart?” He croaked, really hoping the other man hadn’t lost the call, because he had no idea what just happened and he wanted get off the phone as quickly as possible and demand answers from his angel tagalong.

“Dean,” He said cautiously. “What was that?”

“No freaking idea,” Dean replied his voice still hoarse and his throat tight, “But I’m going to ask my friend that very question when I get off the phone.”

“What, exactly, is your friend?” Hart asked sounding very much like he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know.

“In for a major ass kicking if he ever does that weird talking in stereo thing again.” Dean shot Inias an angry look and tried to growl but his throat seized up on him again. He gave a ragged cough instead.

Hart blew out a heavy breath and decided not think about it anymore. “Will it hold up enough to get me a warrant?”

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But my friend wouldn’t have used me as a soup can telephone if he couldn’t swear to God Himself that his information was accurate enough to get this creep locked up.”

Ignoring the fact that there was a good chance that Dean hadn’t been kidding about the God part of that sentence, Hart turned his mouth away from the receiver and put his landline to the other ear calling the precinct. He started to bark orders the second the call was answered. In a matter of seconds he had someone calling the lab for confirmation on the water, bruises, and skin cells. He had someone on the line with Tech to get the receipt analyzed and the victims’ text history searched through with a fine toothed comb.

He disconnected that call and immediately began dialing the judge most likely to sign off on a warrant on such short notice.

“Dean, if this pans out and we finally get this guy, I will buy you beer and bacon cheeseburgers every day until the world ends.”

Dean burst out with a darkly amused laugh. “Too bad the apocalypse’s already come and gone. I would have definitely held you to that.”

“God, I hope you’re kidding about that.” Hart groaned while waiting on hold for the judge to pick up. He hoped Judge Willis would answer sometime soon, he didn’t know if he could take much more of this conversation with his sanity intact.

Dean laughed. “Come on, dude. Would I joke about something like tha- You must hurry. Angela Stevens has been taken as his next victim.” He cut off with a hacking cough and a painful wheeze. “Son of a bitch!”

A shiver went up Hart’s spine and he suddenly really hoped he never got to meet any of Dean’s friends. “Dean?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dean assured him hoarsely. “Look, Inias is going to shadow Psycho McCreepy and make sure he doesn’t bump his kill score up to eight. You got a judge on the other line and I got eleven kids currently being guarded by an angel wearing a stoner. Drop your kids off with Lisa and call me when you lock the bastard up.”

Hart didn’t even have time to process any of that before he had a dial tone in his right ear and an impatient judge in his left. He resolved to revisit the implications of that rushed sign off when all of this was over and he could get stinking drunk beforehand.

Dean shoved his phone in his pocket and stalked back over to Inias. The angel didn’t take his eyes off the kids raptly watching some dolphins click at them, but Dean knew he had his attention.

“What the crap was that?” He demanded.

“Perhaps if you specify I could-”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Dean cut him off. Inias flicked a glance at him looking suddenly like a little kid that had been testing his limits and had just been smacked on the wrist. “You were in my head and I was your goddamn mouth piece. I’m not a fucking puppet and I don’t fucking appreciate being treated like one!”

Inias’ nose did this weird twitchy thing and Dean knew he was about to scold him for “taking my Father’s name in vain”. Dean glared at him and the angel backed down with a huff.

“It is called Mutuality of Intent.” He finally said.

“That’s not confusing and unhelpful at all.” Dean replied heavy with sarcasm. “Why don’t you dumb it down for someone who’s not actually a gazillion years old?”

Inias ignored his bad attitude and visibly mulled his answer over; trying to put his explanation into words a human would understand.

“Angels are able to inhabit the same wavelengths to converse separately from the collective thoughts of the Host. During times of war it is used to communicate delicate information between battalions. Angels on the same wavelength, specifically Messengers, are able to speak through one another. That way there is no chance that the information can be intercepted or tampered with.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and tried really hard not to freak out. “Okay, I get it, like CB radio channels. Useful for truckers and angel battlefields or whatever, but I’m not an angel. I don’t have ‘wavelengths’ in my head. That shouldn’t work on me!”

“You are the Righteous Man; a being of Heaven in your own right.” Inias said and Dean could just tell there was a whole hell of a lot he was not saying. Lucky for the angel, Dean had other more pressing problems to worry about right now than freaky angel shit.

“Whatever.” Dean decided to completely ignore that entire conversation and change the subject. “I know you feather brains like to flutter off after a couple of hours, but will you be able to stick around for a while?” Dean asked him, his gaze and most of his attention had shifted back to his kids. They were giggling and watching the otters swim around in their own poop. They were fine.

Inias cocked his head to the side and his eyes went half lidded and distant. He was utterly still for a count of ten then he straightened and turned his attention once again to the here and now.

“Castiel has given me leave to fulfill any further requests you have of me.”

Castiel. Great, now Dean was almost positive the angel was avoiding him. The guy let his angel buddies bother Dean at all hours of the day and in the strangest of places, but he can’t pull himself away long enough to even pop down and say hi. Dick.

“Awesome. Cas gave you permission.” He muttered under his breath even though he knew Inias could hear him perfectly well; freaky angel hearing.

Inias chose to ignore his sarcasm. “What would you request of me, Dean Winchester?”

That was second time an angel had called him by his full name like it was a title; like he was something other than the defunct “Michael Sword” or a semi-domesticated hunter. He decided not to think about it.

He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

“I want you to follow him. Make sure he doesn’t make that girl his latest victim.”

Inias looked at him curiously. “I was under the impression you disapproved of smiting him and preferred the human law enforcement to apprehend him.”

“Yeah, smiting is bad.” Dean agreed. “But you can keep the girl from being killed other ways. Think subtlety; inconveniently placed wires or hoses to trip him, previously unlocked doors suddenly locking on him, knotted shoe laces. Shit like that. Get creative.”

The angel seemed to think very seriously on that then, with a determined look in his eyes, he nodded. “Very well, Dean Winchester. I will stall Frank Dillard until the police arrive.”

“Awesome. Go do that.” There was a flutter, a puff of wind and Inias was gone. Dean felt him fly to another part of the aquarium.

“Alright kids.” Dean drew the attention of all eleven of his kids. “Time to head out.”

Groans and whines and general childish protests answered his words, but Dean wasn’t having any of it. One stern look and kids all deflated. Gathering around him they followed obediently until they hit the parking lot where they fell back into formation. Trailing Dean back to the SUV, they were subdued and Dean felt enormously guilty for cutting the trip short, but he didn’t feel even remotely comfortable letting them stay any longer in the vicinity of a serial killer.

Buckled and strapped in, Dean turned the engine on but didn’t back out of the space yet.

The backseats were deadly silent and Dean sighed. He had been planning on explaining their abrupt departed once they got back home, but he didn’t think he could handle that level of quiet for the fifteen minute drive.

“I know ya’ll realize that something was wrong back there.” He paused, waiting for the preemptive questions, but none came. He took a steadying breath and continued. “The blond handler at the petting fish tank, he was a bad guy.”

A moment of stillness then Ben asked, “What did he do?”

He really didn’t want to tell them, but he thought they deserved to know why he was breaking his promise of an entire afternoon of fishy fun. “He has killed seven girls in the last year.”

Gasps filled the car. “How do you know?” Nathan asked. His strategic mind had snagged on the impossibility of Dean knowing something about a regular human serial killer that the police hadn’t figured out and arrested him already.

“Inias read his mind. He told me.”

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror. The kids were thinking hard on this new information.

“He can really read minds?” Sunny ask with a small amount of disbelief in her voice. For having a mother like hers, the girl was amazingly skeptical when it came to supernatural things.

“It’s an angel thing.” Dean explained. “They usually don’t do it unless they’re nervous or protecting something.” At least he figured that’s what it was. Cas certainly looked nervous when he told that hooker her father ran away because of his job at the post office. And Dean had implied that Inias was supposed to protect the kids when he’d invited him along.

At least, he hoped those were the only times they read minds.

“He was protecting us?” Daniel’s voice sounded surprised and a little bit awed.

Dean’s lips quirked up in a small smile at that. “That’s what good angels do. They protect people.”

That signaled the end of the conversation and Dean starting driving. The sound of the kids chattering amongst themselves filled the car.

Since Dean was in a relatively okay mood having insured that a sick bastard was going to be dropping the soap for rest of his life, he decided to stop off at the store and pick up the supplies for root beer floats before he drove back to Lisa’s. He didn’t want to leave Lisa alone with Emily and Justin for too long, so he ran into the grocery store leaving the car running with the kids inside.

It had been a shock to find out that Lisa really wasn’t good with kids that weren’t Ben. Seriously the women edged around them like they were alien life forms. It was actually pretty hilarious.

Thankfully the kids accepted the glasses of soda and ice-cream as recompense for their aborted afternoon outing and, in Emily and Justin’s case, yanking their dad away from his day off.

The munchkins were busy slurping down their root beer and vanilla flavored crack through twisty straws, a pure impulse buy that Dean didn’t regret at all (twisty straws were fucking awesome okay), when he heard and felt the fluttering of giant wings.

“Frank Dillard has been arrested by Detective Jeffery Hart. Angela Stevens has been returned to her family.”

Dean turned his head and gave Inias an approving smirk. “Good work, Sherlock. The cops would probably have been chasing their tails for a long time if you hadn’t handed them the fucker’s head on a silver platter.”

Inias obviously didn’t understand most of what Dean had just said, but he got the good work part. His lips twitched up into a small companionable smile.

“I must return to Heaven now.” He said after their mutual satisfaction had faded.

“Yeah, I figured.” Dean nodded and clapped him on shoulder. “It wasn’t horrible having you around and the kids seemed to like you. You’re welcome to hang with us again sometime.”

“I enjoyed myself as well. Children are fascinating and beautiful examples of God’s greatest creation.” He said with such sincerity that Dean didn’t even think about picking on him for saying something so angelically cheesy.

“I kinda like them too.” He said instead, flashing the angel a proud grin.

Inias gave him another quirk of his lips and bid him a farewell before he vanished in a flutter of wings and displaced air.

It was a distracting realization that Dean was spending almost as much time with angels as he did with kids, if that is even possible. He jolted when his cell rang.

“Yeah?”

“Frank Dillard was a match for the skin cells found under Stephany Zephyr’s fingernails, the security footage showed all seven girls interacting with Dillard, and we caught him as he was trying to drag Angela Stevens into a storage closet.”

“Awesome. I hope he gets a four hundred pound horny cellmate named Horse Harry.” You can’t accuse Dean of ever being happy with the simple satisfaction of a job well done. He liked to kick sand an asshole’s face too much.

Expecting a pithy response, or at least an exasperated one, Dean was a little surprised that his crude comment didn’t elicit anything but silence.

“Is there a problem, Hart?” Dean hoped not because if that fucker was going to get off on a technicality or something, he was going to be very tempted to pray for a bolt of lightning to strike him down. He suspected that was the one prayer that would actually get answered.

“When we got there all of the security videos were already cued up to the exact dates and times we needed.” Hart said, his voice cautious and drawn out like he couldn’t believe this was even coming out of his mouth. “Every person we asked could tell us exactly what direction and how far Dillard had gone down to the yard, what the girl he was with looked like and where they thought he was going. Every door we came to was propped open like a path had been made for us, and when we found Dillard, Angela was tied up and crying, but unharmed while he was fighting with his tangled shoelaces. They seemed to have twisted themselves together like a gorgon knot. He couldn’t even take a step they were so tangled.”

“Huh.” Dean said in a voice just dripping with innocence. “That’s a lot of awesomely good luck.”

There was a long pause, then Hart continued, “I find it very hard to believe all that was the result of pure good luck.”

Dean had a smug smirk on his face when his responded, “Well, I didn’t think he’d take the shoelace thing seriously, but, hey, whatever works.”

He got a long suffering sigh in response. “Campbell, please tell me you didn’t have your mysterious invisible friend tamper with evidence.”

“No.” Dean said, his voice melting into seriousness. “If he said the evidence was there, then it was there. It wouldn’t have even occurred to him to tamper with it.”

“How can you be sure? All that stuff that led us right to Dillard, the coincidences, the evidence fitting together so perfectly. It’s too good to be true. I can’t imagine that the ten cops on the task force, the fifteen lab techs, and the two computer techs could have possibly missed all of that.” Hart sounded angry and confused. It just wasn’t possible that they could have missed all of that. He didn’t want it to be possible.

Quiet for a moment, Dean thought on how Hart must feel that the oversight was his fault. It wasn’t his fault because angels are not humans; when it comes to fulfilling orders there is nothing as thorough or exacting as an angel. Dean ordered Inias to find proof and that is exactly what he did.

Dean finally said, “Angels, for the most part are brutally honest, and unfailing meticulous. If they lie you know the shit is hitting the fan. If they fail you have bigger things to worry about than human serial killers. Inias wouldn’t have lied because one: the shit isn’t hitting the fan, and two: he was ready to smite the fucker right there in the middle of the damn aquarium. I think if he hadn’t found sufficient evidence to put the guy away, you wouldn’t have found anything left of him except a charred smear on the floor.

“Wow, okay. I’m going to ignore most of that because there isn’t a pay grade high enough.” Hart breathed in disbelief. “If you ever help me on a human case again, please don’t ever tell me how you do it. I don’t want to have to lie on the stand.”

“Sure, no problem. My lips are sealed on supernatural assistance.” Dean assured with a whisper of amusement. Leaning back against the kitchen wall, he was suddenly very tire. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”

“No, I’m not. I’m going to go home, get incredibly drunk and try really hard to forget we ever had this conversation.”

Laughing darkly amused, Dean said, “That’s a good idea. Let me know if it works.”

They both decided a change of subject was in order before they hung up. Dean asked who was going pick up Emily and Justin, Hart or his bitch of a wife.

Conversations of serial killers and angels shoved to the backs of their minds, they both signed off. Cell phone shoved back in his pocket, Dean sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the wall rubbing his hands tiredly over his face.

Today, he’d faced down the aquarium with eleven kids and he’d lived. He voluntarily let another angel follow him and his kids around. And he helped take down a serial killer.

Seriously, his life hadn’t been nearly this weird when he was up to his ears in angels, demons, and the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. Bobby would be laughing his ass off right now if he knew about any of this.

The doorbell rang signaling the start of the pick-up rush. Pushing off the wall, Dean started down the hall to the entrance way and pushed the entire day to the back of his mind. He was too fucking tired to think about anything else than the relatively kid free peace and quiet he would have in about an hour or so.

Unlocking the door and opening it to the first parent, Dean thought about that girl that wasn’t lying in a dirty alley pale and dead and discarded like trash, how she was alive right now with a full life ahead of her. He thought about the serial killer that would soon be rotting in jail if he didn’t straight up get the death penalty; about how he wouldn’t be able to hurt anymore innocent young girls. All of this was accomplished because Inias, like all angels ever, didn’t understand the definition of “invasion of privacy”.

He thought about all of this and accidentally sent a prayer upward to flutter eagerly and wedge itself pointedly into its target’s mind.

Cas, I hope you appreciate your angels ‘cause some of them are pretty awesome.

*
End.

series:apple pie life, warning:violence, fandom:supernatural, fic:holy rolling stoner, arc:dean winchester patron saint, warning:murder, warning:angels

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