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Tougher Than the Rest (11/15)

Title: Tougher Than the Rest
Chapter Title: We Take Care of Our Own
Word count: 659 this chapter
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Crowley (in later chapters)
Warnings: None
Spoilers: It's set in the second half of season 6.
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: Sam and Dean are checking out a mysterious death on the Jersey Shore. After a long day of research, all Dean wants to do is put up his feet and relax with the TV. The two men waiting in their motel room put an end to that.
A/N: This is a sequel to my first SPN fic In Spite of All the Danger The setting is the Jersey Shore, where I lived for 9 years (1978-1987). My sister coquillagement still lives there and helped me out in a few spots. The wonderful msninacat heard my plea for a beta and jumped right in. Thanks ever so!

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Alan climbed slowly from the pit of Morpheus, his hearing being the first sense to make him aware of his surroundings. Not that there was really much to hear, just simple, repetitive sounds; the clacking of a keyboard and the occasional rustle of paper. The second thing was touch. He was lying on something soft – a bed – and he wasn’t feeling any pain, which was quite unexpected after being attacked by vampires. Real vampires!

He remembered his chest being ripped open at the diner but there was no pain when there should be. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down at his shredded, blood-stained shirt. Judging by the size of those tears he should be dead. He then lifted his shirt to reveal a completely healed torso. As far as Alan knew there was only one explanation, they had called Castiel. Then it was there, everything in his head. He remembered!

He sat up in a rush and saw Ryan at the table tapping away on Sam’s laptop. Sam was sitting on the other bed looking through his dad’s journal with books spread out around him. There was no sign of Dean and it was getting dark. He had been out all day. Crap, crap, crap!

“Hey, you’re awake.” Sam put down the journal. “How’re you feeling?”

“Ridiculously well, considering.”

“So you remember what happened?” Ryan asked as he walked over.

“I remember everything.”

“Everything?”

[Yes, everything,] he communicated to the both of them. He saw Sam’s eyes widen and knew what he was going to ask. “And, no, I’m not going to tell you what happens.”

“But why? Surely Castiel wouldn’t have given your memories back at this point in the game,” remarked Ryan.

“You’re just pissed that he didn’t restore yours as well. Which is another reason to think this was a fluke, he didn’t mean to do it.” Alan stood and stretched. “Where’s Dean? He can’t be in the bathroom this whole time.”

“He, uh, took off.” Sam acted like he was tattling. “We were talking about Cas and I brought up our conversation and Dean went into complete denial. He refused to hear anything against him, reasoning everything away. He grabbed the keys to the Impala and left.”

“And we have no idea where.”

“He won’t answer my calls and I really don’t know where he’d go.”

Ryan took a deep breath. “OK, we may not know exactly where he’s gone but we can guess from previous…instances what kind of place he might go to.”

The three looked at each other. “Bar!”

“Even though the season is nearly over, there still are way too many bars for us to check each one.” Ryan looked at his brother. “Can’t you just ‘pop in’ on him?”

“And cause an accident if he’s driving?”

“Or I could just track his GPS.”

Sam dialed the phone company, told them he had lost his phone and gave yet another false name. When he ended the call, he went to the laptop and pulled up the coordinates. Dean was still in Belmar and not moving.

“OK, I guess I’ll take the car and go get him,” stated Ryan.

“Why you?”

“Because I’m the only one he’s not mad at.” Ryan took the keys from the bureau.

“No, we all go,” said Sam. “He needs to know that Alan’s all right and that I’m not going to back away from what I said and forget it. If you guys just go, he’ll think I’m chicken.” Sam slipped on his jacket.

“After all you guys have been through, he’d still say you were afraid to face him?” Ryan questioned.

Sam directed a look at him that said “duh”. “He will always pull out the older brother or Big Bad Dean Winchester card when it serves him. I’m starting to become immune.”

“OK, then.” Alan looked at them both. “Let’s go. I could use a drink.”

Twelve

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