Short Stories and Oneshots

As Above, So Below - Part 8

"Wait, so Chuck's having trouble?" Dean echoed; Sam shrugged from his spot behind the wheel of the Impala.

"Yeah, just got a text that it was an emergency. Then he texted back that Becky had stolen his phone again and it wasn't an emergency, but he did want us to come help. Apparently a bunch of fans of the books decided to have a convention and managed to pick a hotel that was actually haunted, and the situation is snowballing." Dean winced. Shit, fans. He honestly wasn't sure if he liked Chuck enough to deal with the kind of creepy shit that was any kind of convention. He'd been to a few before over the years and well... "On the upside, most of them should be gone by the time we get there." Dean slumped a little in relief at that.

Sam shot Dean an amused look, he'd saved that bit for last. A little revenge for dumping the whole 'I'm going to say Yes' thing on them without warning. Not that it hadn't worked out. The apocalypse was off the board and for the moment at least, he had his brother back. Things were okay.

"Right." Dean muttered trying to ignore the wings twitching on his back. Michael was apparently the sort to fidget annoyingly enough. He was still far too tired to even consider taking over but at least he could fold his wings up properly instead of the limp sprawl that had had Gabriel awing and threatening to take pictures.

"Right, so what's the deal?" Dean asked tiredly.

"At least one ghost for sure, but possibly as many as four. There are reports of three children which can be seen around the hotel as well as one older woman." Sam answered with a shrug. Dean made a face at that. Multiple hauntings were always fun. You'd be dealing with one of the fuckers only to get blindsided by the other one. At least they knew there was more than one.

"Sounds fun." He muttered.

~

The sight of several black impalas parked outside the hotel had just about made Dean turn around and drive off right then and there. Demons? Check. Ghosts? Check. Unholy abominations they'd never dreamed of? Check. Obsessed cosplayers? Oh hell no.

A few minutes later, Dean was glaring halfheartedly at Chuck as another 'Dean' walked by. Chuck had the grace to at least look mildly embarrassed even if he was practically bouncing in place in apparent excitement. Still, Dean could only imagine how packed this place would have been two days ago. Chuck's gaze shifted from him to just to his left. Dean frowned. "Can he see your wings?" he asked the archangel.

"Most Prophets can." He answered sleepily. Even a day and a half later, and Michael was still spending most of the time sleeping unless Dean prodded him awake for something. Chuck's gaze snapped back to his face before the prophet gave him a 1000 watt smile. His eyes practically gleaming in glee.

"Dude, what the hell are you so happy about?" Dean grumbled; overly cheerful people made him twitchy at the best of times.

"You...you actually stopped them, Dean." Chuck finally answered, his voice going soft in what could only be termed awe. Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"It was sheer dumb luck, Chuck." He pointed out. Chuck just shook his head adamantly.

"That was not dumb luck, Dean. I watched the whole thing! That was all you and Sam! That Sam was able to talk Lucifer into understanding, and that you got Michael to as well. Dean, Michael only listens to God. He wont change his direction in the slightest unless God tells him to. But he listened to you Dean." Well, now Dean just kinda wanted to dig a hole in the ground and hide for the rest of time. Chuck huffed at him in exasperation. "Oh don't start that! You deserve every bit of credit you're owed Dean!" Dean just glowered halfheartedly at the prophet.