Ga'Lo

SN fanfic #3

By J.A. Carlton

aka sifichick

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural yadda yadda yadda... etcetera.

This fic will likely be my last foray into the fanwanking realm... I think my muse is going back into retirement after this... Enjoy please and I beg each and every one of you who read the following chapters as they are written, please be kind and review. It's always nice to know where improvements can be made.

Here we go...

OUTSIDE OF MODESTO CA.

Dean rolled over and stuck his toes out into the cold room air. The muscles of his legs quivered as he stretched them out further. In response he felt the rest of his body elongate into that first delicious full-body stretch of the day. This was his favorite moment... just before he woke fully, before the reality of life forced its way into his consciousness. This was peace. A slow smile stretched the corners of his mouth and he felt warmth pressing closer to him. His arm reached forward to draw last nights' companion closer. She smelled like apples and cinnamon and his stomach rumbled in response.

'Breakfast can wait...' he decided while drinking in the warm fragrance. He smiled and puckered his lips, a satin sigh met his ears urging him onward.

"Dean come on we gotta go!"

'Go 'way Sammy... I got the breakfast of champions right here...'

"Dean!" a knitting needle stabbed him right through the head.

"What!" he barked back and felt a second stab hot on the heels of the first. 'Damn, a few too many shots last night I guess.'

"Get Up NOW!"

"I'm up, I'm up... what's up?" he grumbled rolling gingerly into a seated position where something warm and soft was pressed into one hand and the familiar feel of a cup of coffee was pressed into the other, 'damn ribs still hurt... sucks out loud...'

"Thanks," he muttered biting into a warm fresh baked cinnamon apple muffin and chasing it down with some coffee.

They were on the road again, following another one of Sammy's visions before the warmth of the dream had retreated.

Ever since leaving Bull City Arizona and the hospital there Sammy hadn't been quite the same, 'Scratch that... he hasn't been the same since Dad told him that his six month birthday was the night mom was killed...'

He cast a glance at his younger brother dozing in the passenger seat, his skin tinged grey/green by the dark sunglasses he wore, 'What's goin' on with you Sammy? You gotta talk to me, tell me what's goin' on in that freaky noggin of yours...'

For the last couple of months Dean had noticed a subtle shift in Sam and he wasn't quite sure just what to make of it. It wasn't that Sammy hadn't always been, in some ways, a very intense young man, but one thing was certain; he'd always, without exaggeration, Always Hated the hunting life, and now it seemed he was more than just a little bit more at ease with it.

It had started with Jessica's death Dean knew, yet despite his pure shock at finding out from the Demon no less, that Sammy had gone so far as to begin shopping for a ring for her, a part of him had already known.

What scared Dean wasn't Sammy's need for vengeance, heck, hadn't they both grown up with revenge as the key motivator in their family? And it wasn't the almost instantaneous dislike of the one person who'd gone out of their way to help them since his dear Metallicar had been squashed, and it wasn't even that Sammy seemed to think that Their Demon was the only one that mattered anymore. What truly made Dean stop and think these days was how much his little brother seemed to be enjoying the hunt. How he seemed to relish finding the threads and tying them together. He even seemed to be getting a taste for the kill, and THAT was scary.

He remembered prompting Sammy to start practicing with his abilities while they were still in Nebraska, hoping he'd be able to get some control and maybe gain some confidence which would hopefully assuage his guilt over everything the Demon had put them through, but now he wasn't so sure that had been the way to go. Last month, in the middle of a hunt, right on the Demon's trail Sammy had collapsed, landing himself in the hospital and scaring the holy bejeebers out of Dean. Then on the first night of truly restful sleep he'd had in almost two months, Sammy had woken him up out of a warm wonderful dream because he'd had a vision of someone being chased down in a woods by something big and blood thirsty in Oregon of all places. Dean could feel his sinuses starting to fill already.

'Well it'll be worth it if we can save another life... that's all that really matters right?' he asked himself and somewhere in the back of his brain heard a faint reply that just a couple months ago sang out a lot stronger, 'Right.'

He glanced at the map in his right hand then looked up flipping on the Great Gray Betty's turn signal, and began the hand over hand that would cut the hard right he needed to make. In his jacket pocket sat a familiar heavy hardness. In the month since she'd had a nurse give it to him at Sammy's bedside, along with a note explaining what it was and what he should do with it, he had neither told Sammy about it, nor done as she directed and had it melted down for slugs for the colt. He couldn't say what he was waiting for or why he'd kept it to himself other than he didn't want another argument with Sam until he was sure that there was something worth arguing about. She'd said she'd exorcised a demon with it without killing the host, and considering who it was thattold him this, this dagger could be the most potent weapon in their arsenal next to the colt itself. Maybe it was even powerful enough to kill 'Big Bad' as he'd begun to think of their demon.

He didn't want to think about Laura Finnegan though. He didn't want to think about the woman who he was relatively certain had sacrificed her own brother to deprive their demon of a very powerful ally. She'd sent him the dagger as if she'd known Sammy, although grateful for what she'd done for them, didn't really like her. But hadn't he in the beginning? Before Dean had shown any signs of valuing her opinion?

He shook his head, this line of thought only brought a hot, heavy feeling in his gut and a crawling sensation deep in his bowels.

It seemed his foot slammed on the brake before he knew what had happened as something 'person sized' rolled onto, across, and off the hood. His right arm dully acknowledged having been caught between Sammy's head and the dashboard thanks to the quick stop and hesputtered awake as a mid-teen boy dared a terrified look over his shoulder and careened pell mell down a narrow breezeway.

"Dean what the hell?" Sam ground out without a hint of sleep in his voice, in almost the same instant as Dean took in the whole odd scene and saw just another impossibility happen as something huge and unseen seemed to step directly onto the hood of the car, which he heard scream in protest before the pressure was released by the shotgun explosion of the right front tire giving way. His brows furrowed curiously for a split second upon noting the deep two foot in circumference impression, it wasn't so much the 'footprint' as the fact that mud, leaves and assorted grassy detritus had been left behind within it. 'Golem maybe?... but why's it invisible?'

"I don't know! Stay here!" he ordered Sam and leapt from the car to give chase in the direction the boy had run only a hairs' breadth of an instant before.

"Dean!" Sam's deep voice called from behind, tickling his ear as he ran feeling the comforting weight of the ancient Celtic dagger bouncing off his chest wall. It was the only weapon he had on him, he realized as spring fresh laundry litter fluttered lazily past his face, sprung free from a clothesline strung between brownstones.

'Mmmm nice... Downy maybe?... long as it's not that damned teddy bear...'

The breezeway ended in an alley but there was no mistaking the path of the boy and his creature nor the terrified protestations wafting toward him from the right.

"Please no... What do you want?" Dean heard a voice that had definitely regressed to pre-adolescence as he jogged, on full-alert, toward a brick retaining wall that kept the dumpsters safe from vandals.

He pulled the dagger and swung the blade flat up against his forearm to keep it as inconspicuous as possible. As he approached, the boy was working hard at making himself as invisible as his would be assailant.

In a motion so practiced it was seen as a blur, Dean swung the blade out, a literal flick of metallic flash as his arm reached out trying to find the 'invisibeast'. His ears filled with a howl that sounded like the shearing of a rock face from its mountain and his body took flight, then abruptly crashed. He saw that the blade had indeed penetrated...something. That something was big, and lumbering away in some kind of supernatural snit just before it whiffed into nothingness, less than a puff of steam.

'whafa?' he thought pushing himself up, his ribs protesting madly even after two months. "Damnit! Hey! You okay?" he called out to the boy.

Cautious eyes peered around the dumpster as the boy came out seeing that the coast was clear.

"You okay?" he asked again, now pushing himself to his knees and adjusting to a new level of pain.

"Yeah... thanks... how'd you do that?" the kid asked.

'Not... "What was that thing" or "What just happened?" or even "Who are you?"' Dean noticed, 'no he asked "How did you do that?" he knows something about that... thing. and this isn't the first time he's encountered it...' that realization took about a heart beat to come full on so he asked, "What was that?" and finally pushed himself to his feet just as Betty, as he was starting to think of Tiny's loaner, came hobbling down the alley, the freshly bowled hood and cockeyed limp looked far too much to him like a crooked but game wink and smile. He felt his heart yearn for Metallicar as Sam threw her into park and leaped from the drivers' seat.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he gasped looking from his stiffly standing big brother to the young man.

Dean took that instant his attention was on the younger man to slip the dagger discreetly back into its sheath within his jacket pocket.

"Yeah... who are you?" the kid asked.

"I'm Sam... this is my brother Dean," Sammy introduced.

"Greg..." the young man introduced himself and awkwardly offered his hand to the two 'adult' men before him, the older one seemed to be in pain he noticed. He knew that the beast had hit him and wondered if he were hurt.

"You wanna tell us what the hell's goin' on? What that was?" Dean asked feeling the left side of his sternum pulse with every beat of his heart.

Greg shook his head, his eyes wide and flitting left and right, "I'm not sure... but it definitely got bigger.." he looked at Dean with appreciation and even a hint of admiration Sam noticed, "What did you do? What did you hit it with?"

Dean felt the eyes of both this kid and his own brother on him, their combined gazes weighty, hot and expectant.

"Just a pocket knife..." he shrugged. 'Well it's not exactly a lie, it's a knife and it came from my pocket...' he justified to himself. Dean hated lying unless it was to cops, and he knew he sucked at it so tended to dodge the tough questions or toss out one of his snappy retorts... he'd had a lot of practice. "You said it got bigger? Obviously you've seen... do you see it?" he asked suddenly.

Greg nodded looking at Dean like he was crazy. "Yeah... how else would I know when to run? What don't you?" he asked suddenly.

Shaking his head with a tiny movement Dean pointed to Betty and her debris laden soup-bowl hood, "We see the results."

"Yeah, sorry about that..." Greg blushed.

"What's it look like?" Sam asked pulling a small notebook from his jacket pocket.

Greg shifted nervously and began casting earnest glances as Sam pulled out a pen and found a clean sheet of paper.

'Dammit Sammy, you know the notebook freaks people out!' "Actually he's a cryptozoology nut... always lookin' for sasquatch y'know?"

Greg nodded and looked at Sam with a more discerning eye. He'd seen more than his fair share of Big Foot hunters and scammers but this guy didn't seem to fit either bill honestly. 'Whatever', he shrugged mentally.

"Okay... well it's about eight feet tall now, kinda has a troll-type build, but a D&D type troll not a Harry Potter type..." he could see Sam containing a smile while the older guy just seemed to be confused and not wanting to admit it. 'Real cool Greg! God you are such a dork!' "My sister watches one of the movies at least once a week... She's crushing on Daniel Radcliffe..."

"Hey, chicks dig scars..." Dean muttered trying to sound companionable, and actually smiled for what seemed like the first time since they hooked up with their dad to get their hands on the Colt. "Okay, so big and lumbering... what else?" Dean asked looking between the two younger men, "What? I don't know what a troll looks like!"

Later...

'Don't bother to give me a hand with this tire Sammy... just 'cause it feels like someone's got the jaws of life stuck into my chest doesn't mean I could use a little help here... Damn these lugs're freakin' tight! Is he talking to me?' "What?" Dean asked looking up and over the fender.

"I said... 'cryptozoology nut' that was good... You think Tiny's gonna be too ticked?" Sam asked.

Dean felt himself smile, he couldn't wait to get back to Tinys and see how far he'd progressed with Metallicar. "Probably, but at least we don't have to worry about any crackpot stories with him." 'Yeah Tiny's a safe subject... I should e-mail Laura, see how she's doing... I wonder if Bobby's got wireless yet? He'll teach her the ropes.'

"Yeah, at least there's that. Have you gotten any updates on the car yet?" Sam asked.

Dean felt the short hairs at the base of his neck almost stand on end until he realized, 'Okay, natural conversational progression...' "No, not since last week, said he was looking for a new engine block... but... you know."

"Yeah since he's doing it for free we can't really rush him..."

'Yes! It's starting to give!' "Nope," a jarring turn and the lugs broke free, 'Finally! damned things.'

"You talk to Laura lately?" Sam asked almost cautiously as he brought the spare tire around from the trunk. This was no donut but a full extra tire.

'I love older cars!' Dean thought as Sam rolled the tire up and shooed him aside so he could lift it onto the stems. He knew Dean was in pain but knew he'd never want to admit it so didn't bother pressing the issue, instead he just did the heavy part while letting Dean feel like he was doing it all. After all that had happened to them within the last year, and all they'd been through on their own Sammy was finally starting to glean an inkling of how to handle Dean. It felt good.

"Eh, you know, same old same old, 'how ya doin? Fine you? Starting to work out the kinks yet? How's dad? Same...' kinda stuff."

"So there's nothing new with Dad yet?" Sam asked sounding a little disappointed.

"Nadathing and I don't mind telling you it's got me a little... you know how they say people in comas can hear you and stuff?" he asked then continued noting Sam's nod, "What if he's not hearing us because we're not there? What if he doesn't know we want him to get well y'know?" 'that we don't blame him for what he did while he was possessed...' he added but only to himself. He knew that what the demon had done to them in their dad's skin was a sensitive subject for his baby brother, who couldn't let go of the idea that it wasn't his fault.

Sam cocked his head, "So you want to go see him?"

"Yeah, after we finish with this thing the kid's got on his ass... any ideas on what it is yet?"

Sam flipped back in his notebook and while doing so muttered, "You know I gotta say I'm sorry Dean. I said some pretty rotten things about Laura, I judged her pretty harshly and after all she's done to help us... I don't think it was fair..."

'Hmmm finally, but why now?' Dean shrugged and slapped him on the shoulder grinning, "Yeah but you made some good points though. Like I keep telling you Sammy, with what we do, you just can't get close to people."

"Yeah I know but we do have SOME friends and she should be counted among them," he watched Deans expression carefully, curiosity burning deep within. He knew there was something to the connection Dean had made with the Nurse under a Curse, but he was also pretty sure Dean, with his peace-maker nature would just as soon keep it to himself rather than start another fight.

Guilt clawed into his belly, after all these years together he knew every one of Dean's buttons, he knew his dad's too but that wasn't the point. The point was that in the last year he'd almost gotten both his dad and his brother, the one person who never wavered, never vacillated, the one true constant in his life killed, and to make matters worse, he'd berated him for making a connection that had never even made it to one-night-stand status. Sam also knew that since there hadn't been any kind of passes or sexual conquest that Dean actually liked the woman. For some reason Sammy admitted to himself that the idea scared him. His knee-jerk response had been to quash Dean's appreciation of this woman and that he'd done so as effectively as he had embarrassed him.

Whenever Sammy thought about it, that his brother had never even made a pass at her it shook up his guts, and after a full month's passage he'd begun to understand why. Dean, while maybe not Loving the hunt, loved that it meant helping people. There was something in his older brother that had been brought fully to life after their mothers' murder, a need, something visceral and sometimes dark, but above all else deep, to help and protect anyone he thought might be more vulnerable or less able than himself. But there was one thing Dean didn't often acknowledge and that was his own needs, unless of course they were sexual and even then Sammy was relatively certain that was a shroud of sorts over his psyche. Either way, Sam admitted the idea of Dean connecting with yet another person under a curse scared him. Maybe it was the Fates' way of telling him it was time to start carrying his own weight and start looking out for Dean a bit. Internally he shrugged having gone round this particular train of thought for the umpteenth time,

'Or not.'

"Yeah well I never stopped," Dean admitted moving back around the car and double checkingthe last lug. He still wasn't ready to tell Sammy he'd introduced her to Bobby and he'd pretty much sworn Bobby to secrecy as well, needing only to say that that's how he wanted it. Bobby could be easy like that sometimes. He chuckled to himself wondering which of them would teach the other more in the end.

"Got any ideas about that invisi-beast yet?" he asked.

Sam shook his head, "Other than a thoughtform or a Golem of some kind, but even if it were how could it be invisible? I mean Golems are traditionally made of clay or mud or something so that explains its 'footprints' but they're not usually invisible..."

"Yeah, and as far as I know I've never heard of a Golem growing either... so that kinda puts it back into the realm of a thoughtform, or a tulpa since according to Greg it has a definite form..."

"Yeah well you know as well as I do Dean we're talking about two very different ways of killing it depending on what exactly it is so..."

"So as soon as Greg's out of school we have a nice little chat, find out what he's been dabbling in," Dean finished as if anything they ever did went that easily.

'Optimist,' Sam shook his head.

BOBBY'S

Bobby stood back fascinated by the intricacies of the ancient Celtic ritual unfolding before him. When Dean had asked him to show this woman the basics of hunting he'd been skeptical to say the least, but after almost a month in her company he realized what it only took Dean a couple days to see. Her every day life as a nurse was one of the most thorough disguises he'd ever seen. As a hunter she had a gift for being exactly where she was needed even if her physical skills were, somewhat rusty. He had to admit there was something a little... intense about her desire to learn whatever she could from him but he figured some of that came from her recent experience with Big Bad as she called the Winchester Demon. Whatever it was, and Bobby wasn't one to pry when it came to the motivating factors of other hunters, had troubled her deeply. For the first week with him and who knew how long before then she hadn't slept without either screaming type nightmares to wake her or tears to put her out. Either way she did seem to finally be coming to a kind of level place. If he hadn't been so accustomed to John and Dean's emotional cover-up techniques she might have infuriated him, but thanks to over two decades of practice with the two eldest Winchesters he managed to manage. Still it did strike him hard just how much she reminded him of Dean in particular. When she wasn't being overwhelmingly serious she had the same smart ass sense of humor he did. All in all Bobby found it very strange and more than just a little eerie.

Then there were moments like these when the knowledge she'd carried through the ages thanks to her curse astounded him.

She'd awoken from a dream that the boys were in danger, a result, she explained, of having sampled Dean's subconscious on the night he was brought to her ER. It was also how she knew Sam wasn't exactly liking the idea of some stranger having hidden their dad away. Bobby was planning on texting Dean as soon as the ritual was done, she'd promised last night to take him to see John so he could verify that he was alright, and true to her word, she had. Despite reservations about anyone finding out via some cosmic circuit or telepathically enhanced demon she'd known they could only go on trusting her so implicitly for so long. Bobby had to admit he'd been relieved to see his old friend even thought he was still unconscious. He could hear the distress in her voice when she held his hand and told him, tried to influence him to heal for his boys, and there had been tears in her eyes when she told him she felt like John was giving up. Bobby was hoping his boys could bring him around.

They'd come to the conclusion that it was as safe as it was going to get. John's need to hear that his boys needed him was greater than her need to ensure no other harm came to him or the boys through him, and that's what part of the ritual was about.

At the table Laura's whole body whipped backward knocking Bobby off balance as electricity coursed over and through her, flowing down her right arm through the fingertips that rested in a shallow silver plate of water. Steam rose and the water began to shift, to layer upon itself as if it wasn't water but instead clear flat stones flowing upwards onto each other, literally defying gravity.

Bobby could feel the hairs all over his entire body trying to stand up at once. In an instant the impossible column of water shifted and mimicked the human form. In another moment the form bowed and spoke the language of stony streams which to Bobby's amazement she seemed to understand and respond to. He wondered how long she was going to be able to withstand the energy flow between her body and the water entity she'd summoned. The air crackled of its own accord thanks to the amount of static that was being thrown by this part of the ritual and seconds became frightening, interminable minutes.

"I understand and humbly thank the Sidhe kith and kin," she finally whispered as the tiny figure bowed and became a smaller version of the pool it began as.

Bobby sat at the table and handed her a glass of water which almost slid right through her sweat soaked hands as she tried to catch her breath and drink.

He looked at her with open expectation.

Laura nodded, "Part one is done, the Sidhe have agreed to observe and advise if they sense any evil lurking around John once we get him back here."

He looked at her suspiciously, "That was some seriously ancient magik youngun, what's the price?"

She shook her head clearly exhausted, "It's not like that Bobby."

"I'm not as dumb as I look, explain it to me," he prompted gruffly.

Laura smiled, it had become a running joke with them, she didn't look too tough and he didn't look too smart but they could both hold their own.

"I told you I gave a blood bond to Cernunos to save my brother. I made a choice that night that is, in part, what's allowing me to perform these magiks, but in exchange I'm not allowed to sit on the sidelines with my head in the sand anymore. I'm free to live my life so long as I don't turn a blind eye to otherworldly evil," she sighed deep and heavy then.

Bobby whistled low, "Wow, you really are cursed."

Laura put forth a valiant effort to suppress the smile his quips always brought out but was having limited success, she nodded and said, "Just an fyi… never hunt the favored stag of a God."

"Got it, I think I'll just take venison off the menu altogether."

"Better safe than sorry."

They chuckled until Bobby finally asked, "Okay, what's next?"

SOUTHERN OREGON

"Split up!" Dean shouted making a bee-line for the woods while Greg and Sammy careened left and right respectively, each of them had an identical clay tablet that they hoped would weaken the Ga'lo long enough to disrupt the energy feeding it by hitting it with their jacked up tasers. Dean wasn't wild about using the damned things since the Rawhead incident when he'd almost managed to kill himself. That brought thoughts of Layla.

'Here we go…' he thought feeling a heavy swell of guilt, 'if only she'd been healed… she deserves it a helluva lot more than I do…' he felt the ground shudder behind him as the Ga'lo changed direction, lumbering after him now and sounding very much like it was growing in time with his guilt, 'Come on Sammy… don't let me down… huh, great song,' he thought fleetingly.

Another crazy thought dashed through his head, his younger brother watching him being chased down by his own guilt, squashed and devoured as both he and their dad looked on laughing maniacally, even going so far as to toast their good fortune with bottles of beer as his broken body became one with the Earth.

'Oh crap!... falling now… tuck and roll… oh yeah… OW! Mudda!' the toe of his boot caught a tree root and he was headed for a hard impact. He tucked his head and threw his feet up turning an impending face plant into a shoulder roll just as he heard Sammy call out behind him,

"Dean!" and it actually sounded like there was genuine concern there.

'I'm not pathetic like you…' he heard next remembering the pain he felt at the utterance of those words while they were in that asylum in Rockford Illinois and for the life of him he couldn't remember if Sam had said that before or after shooting him with ashotgun chock full of rocksalt. Either way, the words had hurt more than the blast had. They'd never cleared the air about that but Dean knew that if it was said then it was because it had been there for Ellicott's ghost to dredge out. Dull achy weight seemed to press into his chest as he saw a blue streak course through the invisibeast and it took everything he had to resist the urge to scramble for a far away corner until the tasers charge had dissipated. His eyes followed the twin leads as they seemed to fall a few feet, indicating that the Ga'lo had indeed shrunk a bit, its energy feed disrupted just as they'd hoped.

He was just about to try and push up onto his feet as Sammy jumped onto the creatures' back, clay tablet in hand and ready to shove it into its mouth when what felt like a boulder slammed him square in the chest. He felt a sickening splintering on the left side of his sternum, the same side that had been practically torn open by Big Bad as the breath flew out of his body and he was catapulted through the air, consciousness slipping away into the night around him.

"Dean!" he heard the deep of Sammy's voice and imagined he heard in the back of his head a distinct female of Laura's voice call out to him as awareness left him with one last thought. 'Maybe he really does care.'

ON THE ROAD

"What is it? What's wrong?" Bobby asked as Laura gasped in the passenger seat and slammed her hand into her chest. There was no mistaking an air of urgency in his voice, the sensation had come out of nowhere.

"Dean…" she gasped glancing at Bobby as what must've been another shot of pain doubled her over in the seat, "he's hurt… I don't understand this… he should've been good as new by now…"

"What? What happened?" Bobby asked pulling over. Thankfully they didn't have John in the back of the van yet, the last thing he'd need was to hear that his eldest was hurt again, 'then again maybe that would snap him out of it…' "How do you know?" he asked then clarified after a look from her, "I get that you're feeling it but how?"

She shook her head nearly gasping now, "I don't know… maybe increased sensitivity…."

"What from the ritual or something?"

"Christ I don't know… Bobby!..."

OREGON.

"Dean! Come on Dean don't do this to me… please…" Sam could feel his throat tightening around that last word. How many times had it worked its charm on Dean to get Sam his way? 'A lot,' was the answer Sam came up with, 'So please let it work now… oh God I can barely feel him breathing…' his hands fumbled wildly in the dark, his own pockets as foreign to him as they would be to anyone else as he frantically sought out his cell phone to call 911. 'There, inside pocket…' relief coursed over him as Dean's eyes came open and he heaved a deep gasping breath, sputtered a cough and pushed himself upright against his brothers' restraining hands.

'Wow, my chest doesn't hurt anymore… all I had to do was get the crap beat out of me by a freakin' Ga'lo, musta popped my sternum back right...' he took a deep breath, wondering why Sammy looked like he was halfway between tears and 'oh God he's gonna hug me…' but he didn't.

"Dean are you alright? What hurts? Just hold still," Sam directed pressing him back by the shoulders and avoiding his chest.

"I'm okay Sammy… really."

Sam looked at him cockeyed, like he was crazy but against his better judgment helped his older brother to his feet.

"Really," Dean was grinning his old cockeyed smile that Sam hadn't realized had been missing since Nebraska. "Wow!" Dean huffed, his palm on his chest beneath his jacket as he seemed to assess his damage.

"What?"

"Nothing…" Dean continued to grin.

"What?" Sam asked confused.

"Never mind… where is it?" Dean smiled and wiggled his eyebrows gamely as he slapped Sam on the shoulder and met Greg's disbelieving eyes.

'Hey! he's talking to you stupid!' Greg's internal 'awareness guy' whispered, "Huh? Oh, that way…" he mumbled pointing in the direction of some crunched flora. They were off.

"Sammy did you get that tablet into its mouth?" Dean asked as they ran, he thought, 'I gotta thank that thing! I haven't felt this good in months!... I could run for miles.'

"No, I saw you get hit then… how you hit that tree… Dean are you sure you're alright?" Sam asked at his side.

Dean could hear his little brother having trouble now, both to talk and to keep up. 'I feel great can't he tell?' "Never better Sammy get a move on!" he taunted pouring on just a little more speed and for the first time since Sam's sophomore year growth spurt, pulled ahead of him. His legs and arms were pumping like they'd never done before and though Sammy had longer legs and could usually outrun him, now Dean felt like he was flying as he soared into the lead coming quickly upon the wake of flora as it shifted and swayed for the invisibeasts' passage. It was slowing down and apparently losing cohesion as leaves, twigs and clods of dirt shot past him. To his amazement he could pick each piece out as if it was flying at him in slow motion and evade it with ease. He wondered fleetingly if he were dreaming, or dead.

Sammy watched his older brother pull ahead of him, something he hadn't been able to do since Dean hit twenty. He could usually keep up but to pull ahead so decisively it was as he had wings on his feet. Sam knew there was something seriously unusual going on, '…and the way he's moving…it's so… fluid… I've never seen him move like that…'a small voice from somewhere deep responded authoritatively, 'Or maybe he's actually feeling like his old self again finally. You've seen how stiff he's been lately, how even after a small tussle his ribs ache…' another voice, this one a lot closer to the surface retorted, 'I heard the sound of bones breaking again… I'll never forget that sound for as long as I live… what the hell is going on?' but his questions would have to wait, Dean was almost fifty yards ahead of him and Greg and from the sound of things, already trying to take on the Ga'lo by himself. Casting a quick glance to his right to make sure Greg was with him Sam nodded and forced himself to run harder.