Unexpected Destinies Chapter 134
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 3,123
Summary: Dean, in his new life, was completely vulnerable and the perfect target.
PAST
It was with a smile, and a growing sense of hunger, that Dean pulled into the parking lot of the Irish pub two towns over from his own. He hadn't quite been able to believe his good luck when he'd first found it, because seriously, a place that served great beer, good food, a variety of cocktails and had pool tables? It had seemed almost too good to be true and he'd wasted no time dragging Castiel along to sample their cocktails. It had become a regular haunt of theirs ever since when they needed some time away from the books and research to eat and relax.
Tonight Dean wasn't intending to do as much of the latter as he'd already spent most of the day out of the apartment and knew that he really had to get back there, but he couldn't concentrate on an empty stomach and he didn't feel like cooking. So here he was instead, ready to enjoy a warm meal and have a beer to celebrate the hunt he'd just finished. It had been a relatively simple haunting about fifty miles out, but the ghost had been learning quickly and he'd wanted to deal with it before things escalated to the point of someone dying. Besides, he'd already taken care of everything else supernatural and evil in the immediate area and had been spending far too little time worrying about the more mundane side of hunting. It had felt good to rectify that even if it was only just for today. It reminded him of how things had used to be and how much he'd enjoyed simply being able to help people.
The Carlisle family had definitely been grateful enough to him when he'd ganked their ghost. Dean had hoped to get there before they'd learned the truth about what was out there, but he'd heard about the case too late so instead he had to contend himself with the knowledge that they knew how to take basic precautions against the supernatural from now on. That had to count for something after all.
"Hey, Dean."
"Tom," Dean greeted, glancing over the Impala as he locked her to one of the locals he'd come to know. "How are you?"
"Good, good, gotta get home though. You?"
"Excellent."
"Glad to hear it."
"I'll see you around."
"Yeah, goodnight."
"Night," Dean replied before heading towards the pub's main entrance.
It still felt odd to stay in one place long enough to actually get to know people, but Dean was starting to get used to it. He'd originally intended to keep to himself as it seemed easier than getting involved in things, but that had all ended when Dirk had called him out on the longing looks he kept giving the pool tables and challenged him to a game. Despite what he'd thought, he'd found that he actually enjoyed the game a lot more now that he wasn't hustling than he ever had before. Between Dirk's own skill and the fact that he didn't need to con his opponent into believing that he was a lot worse of a player than he really was, he'd been able to play to the best of his ability and that was exhilarating. Oh, sure, he still occasionally dumbed things down a bit or even threw the odd game but only ever to give his opponents a chance if they weren't quite as good and just because he knew nobody liked an undefeatable opponent.
Not that he had to do that frequently. It seemed this town had a very decent pool club of which Dirk was the vice president and Dean had been invited to join more than once. Even though he'd turned the offer down repeatedly, none of the members seemed to take offense and still allowed him to play with them when he had the time. Dirk and some of the other enjoyed the challenge he provided while he was pretty sure the rest of them simply liked watching their best get trounced from time to time. It evened things out for everyone and he got some great games out of it so he was more than happy with the arrangement.
The smile that had crossed his face at the memories of trying to teach his lover the game and the satisfaction of a hunt well ended both vanished as soon as Dean stepped into the pub.
Something wasn't right here.
Something was wrong, very wrong.
The feeling was so strong and hit him so hard that Dean half expected to look around and find the place in shambles with bodies everywhere, but instead everything looked normal. What the hell? A frown crossed his face as he did another sweep of the place, but everything seemed normal at first glance. Not that it meant much as he knew only all too well how deceiving looks could be. Instead he stayed on high alert as he crossed over to the bar and smiled at Harry.
"Evening, Dean, what'll it be tonight?"
"Surprise me," Dean replied, being careful to keep his face friendly and open. "Got any specials food wise?"
"Sure," Harry stated, grabbing a glass and moving to one of the many taps to get him his beer. "Got in a shipment of haddock so we've got fish and chips."
"Fish and chips?"
"Fish is beer battered."
"Really? Now that I have to try."
Dean paid for his food and beer before heading towards the empty table he'd spotted along the far wall of the pub. It wasn't where he'd normally sit, but it would let him put his back to the wall and take in his surroundings without looking like he was suspicious of anything. Between his gun (loaded with silver bullets as the norm these days, what with werewolves popping up everywhere now that their changes seemed disjointed from the lunar cycle), the demon killing knife and the Jewel of Abel he was well armed, but his total lack of knowledge about what he might be facing here and the sheer number of people present combined to make him cautious. The last thing he wanted was to spook whatever was here into attacking. Still, he couldn't just ignore it either as for all he knew whatever it was that had sent his spidey sense into overdrive was trawling for its next victim and he'd let that happen over his dead body. No way was anything hunting in his own backyard if he had anything to say about it!
At the table, Dean took his seat and leaned back in the chair to look as nonchalant as it was possible to get, letting his eyes roam about as if bored or absentminded. Although he came here quite often, it wasn't nearly enough to tell on sight who was a less frequent customer and who might be new, which unfortunately hampered his efforts at identifying the source of his unease. He was just trying to figure out what the best course of action would be when his eye landed on a guy and he just knew that the man wasn't human. He wasn't sure what it was about the guy as he couldn't pin it down, but he was totally sure that he was right. Given that he hadn't pegged the copniry succubus nearly as easily or as confidently, he couldn't help but wonder if his ability to do so now was angelically influenced. He definitely wouldn't mind if having had Michael in him a few times had led to his being able to sense the supernatural more easily and accurately.
The lack of anything obviously supernatural, even to his expert eye, did mean that Dean was unable to figure out what he was dealing with here. It was hard to decide what to do without at least some idea of what he was dealing with. For one, it meant that he didn't have the first clue as to whether he should act now or simply hang back and observe the thing, whatever it was. The latter was by far the more preferable option given the sheer number of people around them, but he could hardly afford to wait if it was hunting here. The fact that there hadn't been any unusual deaths in the area did nothing to allay his fears as some creatures were smarter than to leave such an immediately obvious trail. Or the nature of their attacks simply meant that there wasn't a body left over at the end of it to be found by anyone.
So, overall, the lack of a body trail wasn't much help to Dean even if it did rule out a few possibilities. It was as he was unobtrusively watching the creature that he caught sight of the second one as she approached the guy and spoke softly with him. It was only due to years' worth of covert observations, of both creatures and people of interest, that he was able to look away nonchalantly just before they both turned in his direction. Using the mirror behind the bar as a means of keeping an eye on them, he had to suppress a smile when he saw that they were clearly focusing on him. Sure he didn't like the idea that they might have come here after him, but it did give him an idea of how to deal with the situation in a way that was unlikely to result in any accidental casualties.
Mind made up, Dean pushed himself to his feet just as the woman started to make her way towards him. Okay, so she was most likely supposed to be bait. Either they had some knowledge of what he'd used to be like or they were just hoping that a pretty woman would be able to worm her way past his defenses long enough in order to either incapacitate him or to lure him to wherever they wanted him. Well neither option was going to work today. No, today they were going to have to follow him to where he wanted them. He gave Harry a quick smile when the bartender caught his eye and nodded towards the restroom so that they wouldn't wonder where he'd gotten to if his food was ready before he got back.
Dean slipped into the short hallway leading to the toilets and then ran for the fire exit at the far end. He'd used it often enough before to know that it spilled out into a dark alley which would suit his needs perfectly just now. He used his foot to keep the door open while he fished out his lighter and waited. Just as the door at the other end of the hall opened, he allowed his door to close, timing it just right so that they'd be able to catch sight of him while he pretended to light a cigarette. With any luck they'd assume he'd stepped out for a smoke and follow him out. As soon as the door was closed, he stepped back and started reaching for his gun before he stopped and considered the metal pipes sticking out of the dumpster next to him. They looked old and had probably been ripped out of a wall as part of the renovations going on next door, but would still suit his purposes perfectly. It would also have the added bonus of being quieter than his colt and he might be able to cause more damage if those two happened to be immune to silver.
Decision made, Dean grabbed the longest length of pipe and moved to stand partially behind the door just as it started to open. He held the pipe so it would be hidden by his body and kept up the pretense of smoking, glancing back over his shoulder at the creature.
"Hey," she greeted with a smile. "I thought I saw someone come out here."
He tried to look guilty as he shrugged. "Yeah, needed a smoke."
"Do you have any extras?"
His instincts kicked into overdrive as she stepped closer to him, her arm extended, and Dean knew that he wouldn't be able to wait as long as he'd planned to. He'd hoped to wait until they were both outside in order to minimize any chances of someone overhearing what was going on and to prevent them from just turning tail and making their escape through the pub. Oh well, it wasn't like he never improvised and this was precisely why he couldn't be bothered to plan things out half the time anyway; things never went as they should, so why bother trying anyway?
Dean swung around suddenly, striking out with the pipe and catching her full upside the head and knocking her back and down with a startled and pained cry. He then used his momentum to shoulder the door and shove it shut just as the second creature was coming through it, slamming him into the doorframe. The crunching of bone and accompanying scream told him that he'd scored a significant hit, but he didn't stop to congratulate himself or gloat. Instead he turned his attention back to the woman and therefore managed to jump aside as she lunged at him. Her charge took her straight into the door, further injuring her companion and he laughed.
"Thanks for that, sweetheart," Dean couldn't resist taunting.
"You'll pay for that," she snarled, turning to face him. "Just like you'll pay for what you did to our father."
"Father?" Dean questioned, suddenly realizing that this wasn't random. While he'd figured out that they were targeting him, he had still just assumed that it was a case of them having recognized him for what he was and deciding to take him out. Obviously he'd been mistaken there as her words indicated that this was far more personal than that. It sounded like vengeance, not that knowing that helped matters any. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that, I'm afraid, 'cause I've ganked far too many monsters to know who you're talking about."
She snarled at him again, her eyes taking on a blue glow while movement on her arms made Dean look down and catch sight of the tattoos extending down her arms as he watched. Oh shit, djinn! His mind instantly flashed back four or five years to the last time he'd dealt with one of those creatures and the fantasy world he'd been cast into when the thing had overpowered him. He had the brief thought that he should have realized then what was to come with Sam given how even in his perfect fantasy life he'd known that they'd be estranged from each other, but then he shoved it aside and dodged the next attack of the djinn he was facing now.
"Oh, I see. I take it that djinn Sammy and I ganked was your pops," Dean taunted. "He didn't put up much of a fight at all. Was he always that pathetic or did we catch him on a bad day?"
Her next attack was fueled completely by rage and Dean was not only able to avoid it, but to catch her full on with the pipe and send her crashing into the wall of the alley. Although he didn't have any lamb's blood on him, he did have silver and it was as he was reaching for his gun so that he could significantly weaken her that he heard the rushing of footsteps behind him. They caught him off-guard as they were coming from the opposite direction of the male djinn who he'd been careful to keep an eye on throughout the fight. He flung himself to the side but wasn't completely able to avoid the attack, taking a blow to his upper body that sent him stumbling.
Dean let the momentum take him down so that he rolled and was able to come up with his gun drawn. He spared a split second to make sure that the man rushing towards him was also a djinn before he fired, twice to the heart and once to the head. The guy went down hard but he knew it wasn't permanent, not without the lamb's blood. He tried to turn so he could shoot the female again, but she ran into him before he could level his colt at her and they went down in a tangle of limbs. He dropped his gun in favor of catching her wrists, remembering only all too well what happened when a djinn got their bare hands on you.
"I'll kill you!" she snarled at him, trying to force her hands down.
Instead of replying, Dean just grunted, resisting her movement but only just. Shit she was strong! He was just debating calling for some backup when the door to the pub opened and the first djinn he'd spotted stepped out. Well fuck, that decided things for him.
"Mike," Dean said. "Need a little help down here."
The djinn above him gave him an odd look before opening her mouth, no doubt to promise him an ugly death or whatnot, before her eyes went wide and she screamed as her whole body glowed before seeming to burst into flame. Dean gave a startled cry of his own, moving to release her wrists, but it was already too late as they erupted behind his hands. Instead of burning him as he'd expected, he felt an intimately familiar power wash over him through his hands that he instantly recognized.
"Michael."
"Hello, Little One," Michael replied glancing down at him before vanishing, probably in pursuit of the first djinn who'd taken off running.
Somewhat startled by what had happened, Dean nonetheless jumped to his feet and grabbed for his gun. He then turned and shot the last djinn a few more times as it tried to stand. "Stay down!"
"Is this the last one?" Michael inquired as he returned in a flutter of wings and took care of Dean's captive.
"Yep," Dean confirmed.
"I am surprised they dared to hunt so close to the home of a hunter."
"Oh they weren't here by chance. They were after me."
"You? Why?"
"I killed their father a few years ago on a hunt with Sam."
"Then they should have known better to take you on, even with greater numbers."
Dean laughed. "Arrogance has been the downfall of many a creature or person. Pride before the fall and all of that. Now, I've got dinner waiting for me inside and I've definitely worked up an appetite for it. How about joining me and trying some damn good beer?"
"Why would I wish to consume fermented wheat?"
"Oh those are fighting words!"
A.N.: If anyone is wondering at the summary for this chapter, it's the second line of the prologue of this fic. I couldn't resist using it here again to underscore the difference between what Sam thought and reality.
Chapter 135
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 3,123
Summary: Dean, in his new life, was completely vulnerable and the perfect target.
PAST
It was with a smile, and a growing sense of hunger, that Dean pulled into the parking lot of the Irish pub two towns over from his own. He hadn't quite been able to believe his good luck when he'd first found it, because seriously, a place that served great beer, good food, a variety of cocktails and had pool tables? It had seemed almost too good to be true and he'd wasted no time dragging Castiel along to sample their cocktails. It had become a regular haunt of theirs ever since when they needed some time away from the books and research to eat and relax.
Tonight Dean wasn't intending to do as much of the latter as he'd already spent most of the day out of the apartment and knew that he really had to get back there, but he couldn't concentrate on an empty stomach and he didn't feel like cooking. So here he was instead, ready to enjoy a warm meal and have a beer to celebrate the hunt he'd just finished. It had been a relatively simple haunting about fifty miles out, but the ghost had been learning quickly and he'd wanted to deal with it before things escalated to the point of someone dying. Besides, he'd already taken care of everything else supernatural and evil in the immediate area and had been spending far too little time worrying about the more mundane side of hunting. It had felt good to rectify that even if it was only just for today. It reminded him of how things had used to be and how much he'd enjoyed simply being able to help people.
The Carlisle family had definitely been grateful enough to him when he'd ganked their ghost. Dean had hoped to get there before they'd learned the truth about what was out there, but he'd heard about the case too late so instead he had to contend himself with the knowledge that they knew how to take basic precautions against the supernatural from now on. That had to count for something after all.
"Hey, Dean."
"Tom," Dean greeted, glancing over the Impala as he locked her to one of the locals he'd come to know. "How are you?"
"Good, good, gotta get home though. You?"
"Excellent."
"Glad to hear it."
"I'll see you around."
"Yeah, goodnight."
"Night," Dean replied before heading towards the pub's main entrance.
It still felt odd to stay in one place long enough to actually get to know people, but Dean was starting to get used to it. He'd originally intended to keep to himself as it seemed easier than getting involved in things, but that had all ended when Dirk had called him out on the longing looks he kept giving the pool tables and challenged him to a game. Despite what he'd thought, he'd found that he actually enjoyed the game a lot more now that he wasn't hustling than he ever had before. Between Dirk's own skill and the fact that he didn't need to con his opponent into believing that he was a lot worse of a player than he really was, he'd been able to play to the best of his ability and that was exhilarating. Oh, sure, he still occasionally dumbed things down a bit or even threw the odd game but only ever to give his opponents a chance if they weren't quite as good and just because he knew nobody liked an undefeatable opponent.
Not that he had to do that frequently. It seemed this town had a very decent pool club of which Dirk was the vice president and Dean had been invited to join more than once. Even though he'd turned the offer down repeatedly, none of the members seemed to take offense and still allowed him to play with them when he had the time. Dirk and some of the other enjoyed the challenge he provided while he was pretty sure the rest of them simply liked watching their best get trounced from time to time. It evened things out for everyone and he got some great games out of it so he was more than happy with the arrangement.
The smile that had crossed his face at the memories of trying to teach his lover the game and the satisfaction of a hunt well ended both vanished as soon as Dean stepped into the pub.
Something wasn't right here.
Something was wrong, very wrong.
The feeling was so strong and hit him so hard that Dean half expected to look around and find the place in shambles with bodies everywhere, but instead everything looked normal. What the hell? A frown crossed his face as he did another sweep of the place, but everything seemed normal at first glance. Not that it meant much as he knew only all too well how deceiving looks could be. Instead he stayed on high alert as he crossed over to the bar and smiled at Harry.
"Evening, Dean, what'll it be tonight?"
"Surprise me," Dean replied, being careful to keep his face friendly and open. "Got any specials food wise?"
"Sure," Harry stated, grabbing a glass and moving to one of the many taps to get him his beer. "Got in a shipment of haddock so we've got fish and chips."
"Fish and chips?"
"Fish is beer battered."
"Really? Now that I have to try."
Dean paid for his food and beer before heading towards the empty table he'd spotted along the far wall of the pub. It wasn't where he'd normally sit, but it would let him put his back to the wall and take in his surroundings without looking like he was suspicious of anything. Between his gun (loaded with silver bullets as the norm these days, what with werewolves popping up everywhere now that their changes seemed disjointed from the lunar cycle), the demon killing knife and the Jewel of Abel he was well armed, but his total lack of knowledge about what he might be facing here and the sheer number of people present combined to make him cautious. The last thing he wanted was to spook whatever was here into attacking. Still, he couldn't just ignore it either as for all he knew whatever it was that had sent his spidey sense into overdrive was trawling for its next victim and he'd let that happen over his dead body. No way was anything hunting in his own backyard if he had anything to say about it!
At the table, Dean took his seat and leaned back in the chair to look as nonchalant as it was possible to get, letting his eyes roam about as if bored or absentminded. Although he came here quite often, it wasn't nearly enough to tell on sight who was a less frequent customer and who might be new, which unfortunately hampered his efforts at identifying the source of his unease. He was just trying to figure out what the best course of action would be when his eye landed on a guy and he just knew that the man wasn't human. He wasn't sure what it was about the guy as he couldn't pin it down, but he was totally sure that he was right. Given that he hadn't pegged the copniry succubus nearly as easily or as confidently, he couldn't help but wonder if his ability to do so now was angelically influenced. He definitely wouldn't mind if having had Michael in him a few times had led to his being able to sense the supernatural more easily and accurately.
The lack of anything obviously supernatural, even to his expert eye, did mean that Dean was unable to figure out what he was dealing with here. It was hard to decide what to do without at least some idea of what he was dealing with. For one, it meant that he didn't have the first clue as to whether he should act now or simply hang back and observe the thing, whatever it was. The latter was by far the more preferable option given the sheer number of people around them, but he could hardly afford to wait if it was hunting here. The fact that there hadn't been any unusual deaths in the area did nothing to allay his fears as some creatures were smarter than to leave such an immediately obvious trail. Or the nature of their attacks simply meant that there wasn't a body left over at the end of it to be found by anyone.
So, overall, the lack of a body trail wasn't much help to Dean even if it did rule out a few possibilities. It was as he was unobtrusively watching the creature that he caught sight of the second one as she approached the guy and spoke softly with him. It was only due to years' worth of covert observations, of both creatures and people of interest, that he was able to look away nonchalantly just before they both turned in his direction. Using the mirror behind the bar as a means of keeping an eye on them, he had to suppress a smile when he saw that they were clearly focusing on him. Sure he didn't like the idea that they might have come here after him, but it did give him an idea of how to deal with the situation in a way that was unlikely to result in any accidental casualties.
Mind made up, Dean pushed himself to his feet just as the woman started to make her way towards him. Okay, so she was most likely supposed to be bait. Either they had some knowledge of what he'd used to be like or they were just hoping that a pretty woman would be able to worm her way past his defenses long enough in order to either incapacitate him or to lure him to wherever they wanted him. Well neither option was going to work today. No, today they were going to have to follow him to where he wanted them. He gave Harry a quick smile when the bartender caught his eye and nodded towards the restroom so that they wouldn't wonder where he'd gotten to if his food was ready before he got back.
Dean slipped into the short hallway leading to the toilets and then ran for the fire exit at the far end. He'd used it often enough before to know that it spilled out into a dark alley which would suit his needs perfectly just now. He used his foot to keep the door open while he fished out his lighter and waited. Just as the door at the other end of the hall opened, he allowed his door to close, timing it just right so that they'd be able to catch sight of him while he pretended to light a cigarette. With any luck they'd assume he'd stepped out for a smoke and follow him out. As soon as the door was closed, he stepped back and started reaching for his gun before he stopped and considered the metal pipes sticking out of the dumpster next to him. They looked old and had probably been ripped out of a wall as part of the renovations going on next door, but would still suit his purposes perfectly. It would also have the added bonus of being quieter than his colt and he might be able to cause more damage if those two happened to be immune to silver.
Decision made, Dean grabbed the longest length of pipe and moved to stand partially behind the door just as it started to open. He held the pipe so it would be hidden by his body and kept up the pretense of smoking, glancing back over his shoulder at the creature.
"Hey," she greeted with a smile. "I thought I saw someone come out here."
He tried to look guilty as he shrugged. "Yeah, needed a smoke."
"Do you have any extras?"
His instincts kicked into overdrive as she stepped closer to him, her arm extended, and Dean knew that he wouldn't be able to wait as long as he'd planned to. He'd hoped to wait until they were both outside in order to minimize any chances of someone overhearing what was going on and to prevent them from just turning tail and making their escape through the pub. Oh well, it wasn't like he never improvised and this was precisely why he couldn't be bothered to plan things out half the time anyway; things never went as they should, so why bother trying anyway?
Dean swung around suddenly, striking out with the pipe and catching her full upside the head and knocking her back and down with a startled and pained cry. He then used his momentum to shoulder the door and shove it shut just as the second creature was coming through it, slamming him into the doorframe. The crunching of bone and accompanying scream told him that he'd scored a significant hit, but he didn't stop to congratulate himself or gloat. Instead he turned his attention back to the woman and therefore managed to jump aside as she lunged at him. Her charge took her straight into the door, further injuring her companion and he laughed.
"Thanks for that, sweetheart," Dean couldn't resist taunting.
"You'll pay for that," she snarled, turning to face him. "Just like you'll pay for what you did to our father."
"Father?" Dean questioned, suddenly realizing that this wasn't random. While he'd figured out that they were targeting him, he had still just assumed that it was a case of them having recognized him for what he was and deciding to take him out. Obviously he'd been mistaken there as her words indicated that this was far more personal than that. It sounded like vengeance, not that knowing that helped matters any. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that, I'm afraid, 'cause I've ganked far too many monsters to know who you're talking about."
She snarled at him again, her eyes taking on a blue glow while movement on her arms made Dean look down and catch sight of the tattoos extending down her arms as he watched. Oh shit, djinn! His mind instantly flashed back four or five years to the last time he'd dealt with one of those creatures and the fantasy world he'd been cast into when the thing had overpowered him. He had the brief thought that he should have realized then what was to come with Sam given how even in his perfect fantasy life he'd known that they'd be estranged from each other, but then he shoved it aside and dodged the next attack of the djinn he was facing now.
"Oh, I see. I take it that djinn Sammy and I ganked was your pops," Dean taunted. "He didn't put up much of a fight at all. Was he always that pathetic or did we catch him on a bad day?"
Her next attack was fueled completely by rage and Dean was not only able to avoid it, but to catch her full on with the pipe and send her crashing into the wall of the alley. Although he didn't have any lamb's blood on him, he did have silver and it was as he was reaching for his gun so that he could significantly weaken her that he heard the rushing of footsteps behind him. They caught him off-guard as they were coming from the opposite direction of the male djinn who he'd been careful to keep an eye on throughout the fight. He flung himself to the side but wasn't completely able to avoid the attack, taking a blow to his upper body that sent him stumbling.
Dean let the momentum take him down so that he rolled and was able to come up with his gun drawn. He spared a split second to make sure that the man rushing towards him was also a djinn before he fired, twice to the heart and once to the head. The guy went down hard but he knew it wasn't permanent, not without the lamb's blood. He tried to turn so he could shoot the female again, but she ran into him before he could level his colt at her and they went down in a tangle of limbs. He dropped his gun in favor of catching her wrists, remembering only all too well what happened when a djinn got their bare hands on you.
"I'll kill you!" she snarled at him, trying to force her hands down.
Instead of replying, Dean just grunted, resisting her movement but only just. Shit she was strong! He was just debating calling for some backup when the door to the pub opened and the first djinn he'd spotted stepped out. Well fuck, that decided things for him.
"Mike," Dean said. "Need a little help down here."
The djinn above him gave him an odd look before opening her mouth, no doubt to promise him an ugly death or whatnot, before her eyes went wide and she screamed as her whole body glowed before seeming to burst into flame. Dean gave a startled cry of his own, moving to release her wrists, but it was already too late as they erupted behind his hands. Instead of burning him as he'd expected, he felt an intimately familiar power wash over him through his hands that he instantly recognized.
"Michael."
"Hello, Little One," Michael replied glancing down at him before vanishing, probably in pursuit of the first djinn who'd taken off running.
Somewhat startled by what had happened, Dean nonetheless jumped to his feet and grabbed for his gun. He then turned and shot the last djinn a few more times as it tried to stand. "Stay down!"
"Is this the last one?" Michael inquired as he returned in a flutter of wings and took care of Dean's captive.
"Yep," Dean confirmed.
"I am surprised they dared to hunt so close to the home of a hunter."
"Oh they weren't here by chance. They were after me."
"You? Why?"
"I killed their father a few years ago on a hunt with Sam."
"Then they should have known better to take you on, even with greater numbers."
Dean laughed. "Arrogance has been the downfall of many a creature or person. Pride before the fall and all of that. Now, I've got dinner waiting for me inside and I've definitely worked up an appetite for it. How about joining me and trying some damn good beer?"
"Why would I wish to consume fermented wheat?"
"Oh those are fighting words!"
A.N.: If anyone is wondering at the summary for this chapter, it's the second line of the prologue of this fic. I couldn't resist using it here again to underscore the difference between what Sam thought and reality.
Chapter 135