Big Bang: One Man Band (1/7)
Title: One Man Band
Author: licklesoxy
Artist: sumer_starlight
Beta: erraticxthought
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing. Violence.
Next: 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Summary: Superpower AU. The Winchesters have little interest in a petty thief who goes around stealing items of no street value. This changes, though, when they figure out that Gabriel isn't working alone. Who is he working for, and what interest do they have in a set of four, seemingly useless rings? The Winchesters are about to find out, the hard way.
-o-
One Man Band
Chapter One
The room was small and empty. Holding no other individuals within its confines, the lack of people seemed rather out of place when compared to the other, crowded rooms in the building. Perhaps that was a blessing, though Gabriel wasn't entirely sure he could count it as one. Giving the vicinity a quick once over, he shrugged, before turning his attention to the task at hand. The job was, as per usual, going to be a very easy one; this room not being guarded, due to having an admirable electronic security system instead, only added to this fact.
Inanimate objects were incredibly simple to get past when one could stop them from functioning by thought alone.
Catching sight of the item that he'd been ordered to collect, Gabriel didn't bother to contain the smirk that made its way onto his face. Lifting his head a touch, he narrowed his eyes and drew out a long breath. The cool air passing over his lips was nice. Trailing his tongue over his teeth for a moment, Gabriel concentrated on the glass container protecting the ring from human touch. It was protected by more than that material - sensors surrounded the container from all angles.
Whoever had set the ring here seemed to think it was valuable; that was clever of them, considering it was worth far more than most would believe.
Gabriel snorted. It didn't matter how intelligent the current owner was, because their security was no match for his powers. Letting his focus shift into a familiar heat, he forced out a swell of energy, aiming it directly at the container.
The glass shattered instantly.
Almost immediately following the noise of broken shards hitting the floor, came the deafening sound of alarms. Blaring out with urgency, the sirens were a ridiculous display that indicated to everyone in the building that something had gone wrong. Gabriel's smirk widened. Yes, this was going to be a pathetically easy job, but that didn't mean he couldn't stir up some trouble whilst being here. Why not cause a bit of panic, especially when it could give him some entertainment during the heist?
He had to wait no more than a minute before the inevitable happened: the exit to the room became blocked by a mass of guards. A handful of the group - commanders, almost certainly, if he were to guess - entered the room, probably in the desire to apprehend him. Keeping his patience and allowing them to get into a position they thought would put him at a supposed disadvantage, Gabriel remained still as he mentally laughed.
"Put your hands above your head, now!" One of the leaders - a brave soul who had no idea as to exactly what she was dealing with - took a step towards him, gun aimed pointedly at his chest. The threat was obvious.
"I could do that," Gabriel said, "but you look like a bunch of stuck up dung beetles."
Drawing his lips into a thin line, Gabriel tilted his head. "You might want to leave the shit behind for a change and just take action."
The invitation to fire was blatant. When no one seemed to take the bait, though, Gabriel had to resist the urge to sigh. Deciding to provoke a little tension in the group through action instead, he outstretched one of his arms towards his target. Suspicious but trained well, the guards, in response to the movement, readjusted their stances a minuscule amount, in case they were required to shoot to kill. Gabriel rolled his eyes as annoyance pulsed through him suddenly. What was up with these boneheads?
"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you," he consoled, voice placating but expression condescending. He'd actually been wrong; this wasn't in the least bit enjoyable, and now all he wanted to do was get this over and done with so he could get some much needed shut eye.
Pausing momentarily to let the words sink in, Gabriel mulled over the benefits of not harming any of these idiots. Maybe it would be best to play around, kicking a couple of them out of their comfort zones. Was he really going to lose sleep time mucking about here? He shook his head, answering that unspoken question. He wasn't in the mood. His bed called to him. The soft mattress and warm blankets were a wonderful heaven just waiting for him to use.
With his mind made up, Gabriel imagined the ring shooting out from its cocoon on the perch that had also once held a glass box, and slamming into his waiting hand. Then, without warning, that mental image became reality. Catching the item easily, Gabriel pocketed the ring and turned to the woman who'd spoken earlier. Not even a second later, when everyone else in the room finally caught up with what had just occurred, all hell broke loose.
Two of the guards fired off a round of bullets almost instantly, which triggered the others into action. The sound was horrendous - Gabriel honestly despised the noise of gunfire, as it was nothing but irritating - but the gasps and cries of shock that followed the racket were definitely worth it. As each person halted their attack, Gabriel turned his attention to the man who'd pulled his trigger first. Gabriel raised an eyebrow sceptically.
"Was that really necessary?" he asked, his tone indicating that he thought the guy to be all of five years old. He didn't answer. No one dared to speak, and Gabriel wasn't at all unsure as to the reason why.
People with powers beyond the normal spectrum of what was considered possible when constrained by their world's physics was not actually that much of a secret. Hell, the last vice president had been a blasted long jumper - she could, literally, jump over half a mile with a single leap. It shouldn't be such a surprise that some who could had these unnatural powers would use them unjustly. In fact, Gabriel couldn't even begin to comprehend not using his powers in a criminal way. What was the point in being able to bend the laws of physics, if he wasn't going to have a little fun whilst doing so?
Gabriel shook his head as he took in the guard's stunned expression. The moron was a trained security guard, so surely he should have expected this at some point in his career. Pursing his lips, Gabriel's focus shifted to the vast array of bullets surrounding his form. Floating in place, most just inches from his person, the small projectiles were hanging almost lazily, as though mocking the guards who'd shot them out their guns.
Finding himself unable to stop the chuckle from escaping his throat as the absurdity of the situation struck him, Gabriel once again shook his head as he released the bullets from the hold he had on them. At once, the many pieces of metal fell to the ground with soft clangs.
Gabriel gave the man he'd been looking at earlier a cheeky grin. "Good luck explaining this one, muttonheads," he commented, before snapping out a swell of power to make himself disappear from the building entirely.
-o-
Sam could not believe how utterly annoying his brother was capable of being at certain times. As he tried and failed, over and over again, to get any response from his laptop, Sam couldn't stop his frustrations levels from rising to a new high. Seething anger seemed to be his default at the moment, especially considering that there was no success to be had no matter how many seconds ticked by.
This was utterly stupid. He'd told Dean on countless occasions that his stuff - most importantly, his laptop, as everything else was easily replaceable - was off limits. That meant he didn't want Dean touching anything that he owned, at least not without permission. Would Dean listen to that simple request, though? Sam scowled. Of course not. He was Dean.
Threatening his brother with violence never helped. Bribing was pointless. Regardless of what he did, Dean would usually laugh in his face without an ounce of regret or apology. It really wasn't fair, since Sam wasn't one to go around messing with Dean's things. Why couldn't he be blessed with the same courtesy directed towards his possessions? Though, when Sam thought about it, the only thing Dean had that he valued was that damn car of his, and there was no way in Hell Sam would touch that.
The reason for this, despite Dean being a complete asshole in regards to his personal items, was understandable: Sam wasn't suicidal. Even letting the air out of one of the Impala's tyres would make Dean go on a killing spree.
Blowing out a long sigh as he tried to move his thoughts in the direction of happier things, Sam pushed his laptop to the side, shutting its lid whilst he did so. He then contemplated whether berating Dean would be beneficial. The answer was a resounding no, obviously, because he knew what the outcome would be - Dean blatantly ignoring his lecture. Sam didn't care. His brother deserved a good scolding, and yelling at his brother would at least give Sam a way of releasing all his pent up fury.
Standing up, Sam rolled his shoulders to stretch them slightly. Closing his eyes, a small smile made its way onto his lips as a wave of tension eased out of his body. Opening his eyes once more, he huffed out another sigh. There was a strangling heat pulsing around the room, making him sweat even though he wasn't partaking in an activity that should cause it. Sniffing in annoyance, Sam rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Warm weather was welcome, but there was only so much he could take before it turned every waking moment into a fight to stay comfortable. He wished for fall, and the cold air that would follow it.
Allowing himself a moment to calm down, Sam slowly made his way to the kitchen. Dean was sitting at the table with a plate of food in front of him, but he was fixated on the television rather than the untouched meal. Having so eagerly prepared the dinner about half an hour ago, Dean would normally have devoured the food in minutes. It looked as if he hadn't had a bite. Absent mindedly shoved aside, Dean's dinner had been abandoned. Sam frowned.
"What's up?"
It was a simple enough question, yet the answers always varied greatly, and the words were uttered far too often.
Without giving a verbal answer, Dean nodded towards the television that his gaze was currently glued to. Moving to look at the television with little interest, Sam watched blankly for a few seconds, holding no hope that anything would catch his attention. Unexpectedly, there was news of importance on the screen; upon noticing this, Sam realised exactly why Dean had chosen to leave his meal in the desire to eat up the story airing instead.
"Gabriel."
The name was a statement, rather than a question. Dean nodded in confirmation. Both Winchesters knew the work of the former trickster when they saw it, as there was no denying the style. Predictable yet familiar, it was an art that Dean unabashedly admired, for a reason Sam could not fathom.
He truly didn't care for the guy, if he were being honest, because he couldn't care less about someone who spent their days stealing meaningless items. The problem was, that had been a while ago, and things were different now. Something had changed. Gabriel was actually an unknown; hadn't even been named correctly until little over a month ago when a reporter caught wind of the fact that 'Loki' had been an alias given to him whilst under orders from Kali's regiment.
The findings hadn't been an accident. Gabriel had purposely let the woman figure out his identity, and Sam couldn't quite work out why. Either he was idiotic enough to think he couldn't be traced, or he'd stepped up in the world of organised crime. Sam had a feeling it was the latter, considering there were rumours that Gabriel had left the pagan society in order to work for a different company.
That left him with two more questions: Was there an organisation more powerful than the pagans, and if there was, why on Earth were they interested in a lowly thief with little to no reputation?
"He's been hitting way more places than usual," Sam muttered, a mild curiosity underlying his tone that he wished wasn't there.
Licking his lips, Sam drew out a sigh. "He's not even dangerous, though, is he? We've seen his work in passing, and he doesn't seem to actually hurt anyone while on a job."
Waiting for a moment, Sam couldn't stop the twinge of annoyance that filled him when no reply came.
Was Dean even listening to him?
-o-
"Why?"
Asking that question for the fifth time in a matter of minutes, Sam could not begin to comprehend a reason for Dean to not be able to answer it. In all honesty, he wasn't capable of determining what was going through his brother's mind right now. Sure, he could understand that Dean felt obliged to help those in need who couldn't help themselves, but this was getting rather ridiculous. His brother wasn't required to offer assistance, even if he fit the definition of what the media liked to call 'a hero'.
Of course, both Winchester brothers had in fact dealt with criminals quite a number of times, when it seemed appropriate to lend a hand. But it was definitely not their job to attend every instance of criminal activity in the hopes of stopping it from occurring. They were under no contract to travel cross country to halt a law breaker, regardless of the truth that they normally had a much larger advantage over said criminals than the average cop. Having abilities that defined them as 'other' to most humans in the world didn't mean they should feel guilty if they didn't drop everything to help.
They had their own lives to live; their own careers that needed constant attention. Dean was the manager of a pretty large mechanical company. He'd worked for it from a young age, as it was a family business. Since their father had moved abroad to expand the sales audience, he'd been given too much responsibility to just up and leave for any extended amount of time.
Sam was fast on his way to having a very successful career in law. With his studies almost over, he was already seeking applications that suited his strengths.
Both career paths were important, and Sam thought it was unfair of anyone to presume they'd give it all up in the vague pursuit of delivering justice to those who deserved it. Dean was one of those who believed leaving their lives behind to help others was something people could ask of them, and that was where the main problem lay.
How could Dean not understand what Sam did? How was he able to fling all his every day life responsibilities away to give assistance to strangers? Sam saw the appeal of a good Samaritan path, obviously, as he wasn't heartless, but he liked what he had right now. Expecting him to neglect his own desires wasn't fair. He was entitled to be selfish, just as everybody else on the planet was. So, why on Earth did Dean seem to be lacking this sense of self? It was almost as if he took some pleasure in sacrificing his own happiness in a bid to rid the country of bad people.
"Dude, ask me that again and I will punch you," Dean said, thankfully snapping Sam from his thoughts. Dean's expression showed signs of exasperation, and Sam was certain that he was being serious with that threat. Sighing in defeat, Sam shook his head. A physical fight wasn't on his agenda for the day.
Watching as Dean's face lit up instantly in triumph, Sam instantly felt a strong want to wipe that smug grin from his features. Feeling his cheeks heat up as irritation washed through him, Sam turned his attention to anything that wasn't his brother. Keeping his frustration in check was key to not losing his control and hitting Dean, which would inevitably lead to a boxing match.
"So, as I was saying," Dean began, moving his focus back to the map he'd placed on the kitchen table a few minutes ago, "it seems like the next hit will be Stockton, if his pattern sticks."
Looking back up at Sam, Dean's grin appeared to grow in size. He was very pleased with his deductions, and awaiting approval that Sam was not going to give. Sam was pissed off enough as it was; he didn't need Dean rubbing it in his face.
When Dean realised Sam wasn't going to say anything, Dean licked his lips and stood up to his full height. He clapped his hands together, producing an irritating sound, before letting his grin ease into an excited smile.
"Looks like we're going on a road trip, Sammy."
Sam scowled. "To stop Gabriel."
Dean nodded. "Pretty much."
"Even though he's just a thief, and we've never gone to the trouble of tracking one down before," Sam stated, voice completely deadpan.
Leaning forwards, Dean patted Sam's shoulder. "Got it in one, Samantha."
-o-
Author: licklesoxy
Artist: sumer_starlight
Beta: erraticxthought
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing. Violence.
Next: 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Summary: Superpower AU. The Winchesters have little interest in a petty thief who goes around stealing items of no street value. This changes, though, when they figure out that Gabriel isn't working alone. Who is he working for, and what interest do they have in a set of four, seemingly useless rings? The Winchesters are about to find out, the hard way.
-o-
One Man Band
Chapter One
The room was small and empty. Holding no other individuals within its confines, the lack of people seemed rather out of place when compared to the other, crowded rooms in the building. Perhaps that was a blessing, though Gabriel wasn't entirely sure he could count it as one. Giving the vicinity a quick once over, he shrugged, before turning his attention to the task at hand. The job was, as per usual, going to be a very easy one; this room not being guarded, due to having an admirable electronic security system instead, only added to this fact.
Inanimate objects were incredibly simple to get past when one could stop them from functioning by thought alone.
Catching sight of the item that he'd been ordered to collect, Gabriel didn't bother to contain the smirk that made its way onto his face. Lifting his head a touch, he narrowed his eyes and drew out a long breath. The cool air passing over his lips was nice. Trailing his tongue over his teeth for a moment, Gabriel concentrated on the glass container protecting the ring from human touch. It was protected by more than that material - sensors surrounded the container from all angles.
Whoever had set the ring here seemed to think it was valuable; that was clever of them, considering it was worth far more than most would believe.
Gabriel snorted. It didn't matter how intelligent the current owner was, because their security was no match for his powers. Letting his focus shift into a familiar heat, he forced out a swell of energy, aiming it directly at the container.
The glass shattered instantly.
Almost immediately following the noise of broken shards hitting the floor, came the deafening sound of alarms. Blaring out with urgency, the sirens were a ridiculous display that indicated to everyone in the building that something had gone wrong. Gabriel's smirk widened. Yes, this was going to be a pathetically easy job, but that didn't mean he couldn't stir up some trouble whilst being here. Why not cause a bit of panic, especially when it could give him some entertainment during the heist?
He had to wait no more than a minute before the inevitable happened: the exit to the room became blocked by a mass of guards. A handful of the group - commanders, almost certainly, if he were to guess - entered the room, probably in the desire to apprehend him. Keeping his patience and allowing them to get into a position they thought would put him at a supposed disadvantage, Gabriel remained still as he mentally laughed.
"Put your hands above your head, now!" One of the leaders - a brave soul who had no idea as to exactly what she was dealing with - took a step towards him, gun aimed pointedly at his chest. The threat was obvious.
"I could do that," Gabriel said, "but you look like a bunch of stuck up dung beetles."
Drawing his lips into a thin line, Gabriel tilted his head. "You might want to leave the shit behind for a change and just take action."
The invitation to fire was blatant. When no one seemed to take the bait, though, Gabriel had to resist the urge to sigh. Deciding to provoke a little tension in the group through action instead, he outstretched one of his arms towards his target. Suspicious but trained well, the guards, in response to the movement, readjusted their stances a minuscule amount, in case they were required to shoot to kill. Gabriel rolled his eyes as annoyance pulsed through him suddenly. What was up with these boneheads?
"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you," he consoled, voice placating but expression condescending. He'd actually been wrong; this wasn't in the least bit enjoyable, and now all he wanted to do was get this over and done with so he could get some much needed shut eye.
Pausing momentarily to let the words sink in, Gabriel mulled over the benefits of not harming any of these idiots. Maybe it would be best to play around, kicking a couple of them out of their comfort zones. Was he really going to lose sleep time mucking about here? He shook his head, answering that unspoken question. He wasn't in the mood. His bed called to him. The soft mattress and warm blankets were a wonderful heaven just waiting for him to use.
With his mind made up, Gabriel imagined the ring shooting out from its cocoon on the perch that had also once held a glass box, and slamming into his waiting hand. Then, without warning, that mental image became reality. Catching the item easily, Gabriel pocketed the ring and turned to the woman who'd spoken earlier. Not even a second later, when everyone else in the room finally caught up with what had just occurred, all hell broke loose.
Two of the guards fired off a round of bullets almost instantly, which triggered the others into action. The sound was horrendous - Gabriel honestly despised the noise of gunfire, as it was nothing but irritating - but the gasps and cries of shock that followed the racket were definitely worth it. As each person halted their attack, Gabriel turned his attention to the man who'd pulled his trigger first. Gabriel raised an eyebrow sceptically.
"Was that really necessary?" he asked, his tone indicating that he thought the guy to be all of five years old. He didn't answer. No one dared to speak, and Gabriel wasn't at all unsure as to the reason why.
People with powers beyond the normal spectrum of what was considered possible when constrained by their world's physics was not actually that much of a secret. Hell, the last vice president had been a blasted long jumper - she could, literally, jump over half a mile with a single leap. It shouldn't be such a surprise that some who could had these unnatural powers would use them unjustly. In fact, Gabriel couldn't even begin to comprehend not using his powers in a criminal way. What was the point in being able to bend the laws of physics, if he wasn't going to have a little fun whilst doing so?
Gabriel shook his head as he took in the guard's stunned expression. The moron was a trained security guard, so surely he should have expected this at some point in his career. Pursing his lips, Gabriel's focus shifted to the vast array of bullets surrounding his form. Floating in place, most just inches from his person, the small projectiles were hanging almost lazily, as though mocking the guards who'd shot them out their guns.
Finding himself unable to stop the chuckle from escaping his throat as the absurdity of the situation struck him, Gabriel once again shook his head as he released the bullets from the hold he had on them. At once, the many pieces of metal fell to the ground with soft clangs.
Gabriel gave the man he'd been looking at earlier a cheeky grin. "Good luck explaining this one, muttonheads," he commented, before snapping out a swell of power to make himself disappear from the building entirely.
-o-
Sam could not believe how utterly annoying his brother was capable of being at certain times. As he tried and failed, over and over again, to get any response from his laptop, Sam couldn't stop his frustrations levels from rising to a new high. Seething anger seemed to be his default at the moment, especially considering that there was no success to be had no matter how many seconds ticked by.
This was utterly stupid. He'd told Dean on countless occasions that his stuff - most importantly, his laptop, as everything else was easily replaceable - was off limits. That meant he didn't want Dean touching anything that he owned, at least not without permission. Would Dean listen to that simple request, though? Sam scowled. Of course not. He was Dean.
Threatening his brother with violence never helped. Bribing was pointless. Regardless of what he did, Dean would usually laugh in his face without an ounce of regret or apology. It really wasn't fair, since Sam wasn't one to go around messing with Dean's things. Why couldn't he be blessed with the same courtesy directed towards his possessions? Though, when Sam thought about it, the only thing Dean had that he valued was that damn car of his, and there was no way in Hell Sam would touch that.
The reason for this, despite Dean being a complete asshole in regards to his personal items, was understandable: Sam wasn't suicidal. Even letting the air out of one of the Impala's tyres would make Dean go on a killing spree.
Blowing out a long sigh as he tried to move his thoughts in the direction of happier things, Sam pushed his laptop to the side, shutting its lid whilst he did so. He then contemplated whether berating Dean would be beneficial. The answer was a resounding no, obviously, because he knew what the outcome would be - Dean blatantly ignoring his lecture. Sam didn't care. His brother deserved a good scolding, and yelling at his brother would at least give Sam a way of releasing all his pent up fury.
Standing up, Sam rolled his shoulders to stretch them slightly. Closing his eyes, a small smile made its way onto his lips as a wave of tension eased out of his body. Opening his eyes once more, he huffed out another sigh. There was a strangling heat pulsing around the room, making him sweat even though he wasn't partaking in an activity that should cause it. Sniffing in annoyance, Sam rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Warm weather was welcome, but there was only so much he could take before it turned every waking moment into a fight to stay comfortable. He wished for fall, and the cold air that would follow it.
Allowing himself a moment to calm down, Sam slowly made his way to the kitchen. Dean was sitting at the table with a plate of food in front of him, but he was fixated on the television rather than the untouched meal. Having so eagerly prepared the dinner about half an hour ago, Dean would normally have devoured the food in minutes. It looked as if he hadn't had a bite. Absent mindedly shoved aside, Dean's dinner had been abandoned. Sam frowned.
"What's up?"
It was a simple enough question, yet the answers always varied greatly, and the words were uttered far too often.
Without giving a verbal answer, Dean nodded towards the television that his gaze was currently glued to. Moving to look at the television with little interest, Sam watched blankly for a few seconds, holding no hope that anything would catch his attention. Unexpectedly, there was news of importance on the screen; upon noticing this, Sam realised exactly why Dean had chosen to leave his meal in the desire to eat up the story airing instead.
"Gabriel."
The name was a statement, rather than a question. Dean nodded in confirmation. Both Winchesters knew the work of the former trickster when they saw it, as there was no denying the style. Predictable yet familiar, it was an art that Dean unabashedly admired, for a reason Sam could not fathom.
He truly didn't care for the guy, if he were being honest, because he couldn't care less about someone who spent their days stealing meaningless items. The problem was, that had been a while ago, and things were different now. Something had changed. Gabriel was actually an unknown; hadn't even been named correctly until little over a month ago when a reporter caught wind of the fact that 'Loki' had been an alias given to him whilst under orders from Kali's regiment.
The findings hadn't been an accident. Gabriel had purposely let the woman figure out his identity, and Sam couldn't quite work out why. Either he was idiotic enough to think he couldn't be traced, or he'd stepped up in the world of organised crime. Sam had a feeling it was the latter, considering there were rumours that Gabriel had left the pagan society in order to work for a different company.
That left him with two more questions: Was there an organisation more powerful than the pagans, and if there was, why on Earth were they interested in a lowly thief with little to no reputation?
"He's been hitting way more places than usual," Sam muttered, a mild curiosity underlying his tone that he wished wasn't there.
Licking his lips, Sam drew out a sigh. "He's not even dangerous, though, is he? We've seen his work in passing, and he doesn't seem to actually hurt anyone while on a job."
Waiting for a moment, Sam couldn't stop the twinge of annoyance that filled him when no reply came.
Was Dean even listening to him?
-o-
"Why?"
Asking that question for the fifth time in a matter of minutes, Sam could not begin to comprehend a reason for Dean to not be able to answer it. In all honesty, he wasn't capable of determining what was going through his brother's mind right now. Sure, he could understand that Dean felt obliged to help those in need who couldn't help themselves, but this was getting rather ridiculous. His brother wasn't required to offer assistance, even if he fit the definition of what the media liked to call 'a hero'.
Of course, both Winchester brothers had in fact dealt with criminals quite a number of times, when it seemed appropriate to lend a hand. But it was definitely not their job to attend every instance of criminal activity in the hopes of stopping it from occurring. They were under no contract to travel cross country to halt a law breaker, regardless of the truth that they normally had a much larger advantage over said criminals than the average cop. Having abilities that defined them as 'other' to most humans in the world didn't mean they should feel guilty if they didn't drop everything to help.
They had their own lives to live; their own careers that needed constant attention. Dean was the manager of a pretty large mechanical company. He'd worked for it from a young age, as it was a family business. Since their father had moved abroad to expand the sales audience, he'd been given too much responsibility to just up and leave for any extended amount of time.
Sam was fast on his way to having a very successful career in law. With his studies almost over, he was already seeking applications that suited his strengths.
Both career paths were important, and Sam thought it was unfair of anyone to presume they'd give it all up in the vague pursuit of delivering justice to those who deserved it. Dean was one of those who believed leaving their lives behind to help others was something people could ask of them, and that was where the main problem lay.
How could Dean not understand what Sam did? How was he able to fling all his every day life responsibilities away to give assistance to strangers? Sam saw the appeal of a good Samaritan path, obviously, as he wasn't heartless, but he liked what he had right now. Expecting him to neglect his own desires wasn't fair. He was entitled to be selfish, just as everybody else on the planet was. So, why on Earth did Dean seem to be lacking this sense of self? It was almost as if he took some pleasure in sacrificing his own happiness in a bid to rid the country of bad people.
"Dude, ask me that again and I will punch you," Dean said, thankfully snapping Sam from his thoughts. Dean's expression showed signs of exasperation, and Sam was certain that he was being serious with that threat. Sighing in defeat, Sam shook his head. A physical fight wasn't on his agenda for the day.
Watching as Dean's face lit up instantly in triumph, Sam instantly felt a strong want to wipe that smug grin from his features. Feeling his cheeks heat up as irritation washed through him, Sam turned his attention to anything that wasn't his brother. Keeping his frustration in check was key to not losing his control and hitting Dean, which would inevitably lead to a boxing match.
"So, as I was saying," Dean began, moving his focus back to the map he'd placed on the kitchen table a few minutes ago, "it seems like the next hit will be Stockton, if his pattern sticks."
Looking back up at Sam, Dean's grin appeared to grow in size. He was very pleased with his deductions, and awaiting approval that Sam was not going to give. Sam was pissed off enough as it was; he didn't need Dean rubbing it in his face.
When Dean realised Sam wasn't going to say anything, Dean licked his lips and stood up to his full height. He clapped his hands together, producing an irritating sound, before letting his grin ease into an excited smile.
"Looks like we're going on a road trip, Sammy."
Sam scowled. "To stop Gabriel."
Dean nodded. "Pretty much."
"Even though he's just a thief, and we've never gone to the trouble of tracking one down before," Sam stated, voice completely deadpan.
Leaning forwards, Dean patted Sam's shoulder. "Got it in one, Samantha."
-o-