Soooo . . . sorry about the wait. July ended up being incredibly, incredibly busy for me. Tribal obligations, man. You have no idea how exhausting that is.

Anyhoo, I had originally intended for this story line to end with Grey Knights but somewhere along the way I lost Dean's voice and I couldn't figure out how to fix it without re-writing the whole fic. This is my solution. I have no idea how long it'll be but I'm going to try and finish it before Halloween (I get busy with more tribal obligations in September).

Well, anyway, enjoy!

It's been two months since Dean left Hawaii and the life he made there for the past year. Everything fell apart there and Dean cut his losses before he allowed them to hurt him once more.

He shipped his baby home before Dean even found a way to get himself home. It took Dean another week and a half after he already shipped his precious car back to the mainland. He knew others would laugh at the fact that it took him that long to get back home but they didn't to have to contend with a powerful government sect that had almost complete control over the islands security. They locked down the airports and shipyards before Dean even considered them as an option to get away from the islands.

Dean is nothing if not resourceful. He may have made some not-so innocent friends while he was on the island. Habits are hard to break and his dad taught him to make friends with the seedy underworld just in case he might need a quick escape should Johnny Law stick their nose where it doesn't belong.

And look, Dean's in need of a quick escape.

He used a burner phone he "forgot" to tell Steve about to contact a source to help him get off the island in a way the police won't think to look for him. Another habit he hadn't been able to shake over his time with Steve and his law enforcement ohana, and he is so glad he listened to the little voice in his head, which sounded a lot like his dad, and bought the untraceable phone as precautionary measure.

Always listen to your instincts, his dad drilled into his head. Dean almost ignored it and he's so glad he didn't.

His contact, Luis Roche, has a fleet of ships that he uses to smuggle all sorts of things in and out of the islands without the police or Coast Guard finding their contraband. All it took was for Dean to get rid of a selkie that was messing with his men and boats for Dean to acquire a favor from the man.

Dean's called it in and Luis did not disappoint. He got Dean smuggled off the island and dropped him off in Texas.

It took him longer to get back to the mainland but it was worth it because Steve and the others would have had a BOLO and APB on his face and car at the California harbors and all the way up the west coast, just like Dean knew they would. It's going to be a bitch hunting from now on with his face plastered all over the TV and newspapers.

It was worth it though. Dean's free for the first time in his life. He doesn't have to take care of his dad and little brother anymore, or to be precise, he no longer feels an obligation to take care of them. That compulsion is gone for the first time since he was four. He's free.

He's been hunting in the Midwest since he is essentially blacklisted anywhere near the ports. Dean's hoping in another few months Steve will give up and let him live his life and cancel the APBs and BOLOs. They're hampering his ability to help people that live near or around the coast line, and he hates being inhibited like this.

Dean did swing by Stanford to see if Sam got back okay (he did) and made sure his sudden departure from the islands didn't mess with Sam's schooling (it did - dammit). Sam had been walking around like a despondent puppy that had a pretty blonde fretting about as she tried to pry the reason for Sam's sullenness out from the stubborn git. She gave up eventually and resorted to comforting the big lug until he was ready to talk. Smart woman.

He left a note saying he was fine and that he didn't blame Sam but asked to be left alone, a concept Sam should be familiar with.

Okay, so he might blame Sam a little bit. It's progress. Danny would be proud.

...Steve too.

Dean shook his head and focused on tracking down his dad so he could avoid him. The Lower 48 might seem big but when you're a hunter, the continental United States gets awfully small, and you end up running into people you'd rather not meet or see again.

Uncle Bobby rarely left the northern half of America, Caleb preferred the Northeast, Pastor Jim never left the state of Minnesota, while his dad traveled anywhere and everywhere for a job.

He can avoid the first three easily but his dad is proving to be difficult to hide from.

The thing is, if his dad didn't know he was back, it'd be a hell of a lot easier keeping out of sight, but knowing Sam, he called their dad and told him everything. Of course the one time he's counting on them not speaking to each other, they put aside their differences (similarities more like it) and do their best to track him down. But again, he has no idea whether or not Sam called dad and blabbed his failure of a relationship with Steve.

Dad's going to be so smug about this when they see each other.

Dean scowled and tried to get into his dad's mindset to see what case might catch his attention and go in a completely different direction. His luck will only hold out for so long. Dean's actually surprised it held out this long.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Dean poured over countless newspapers that held any information about unusual deaths and/or animal attacks. He found what looked like a rugaru in Dayton, Ohio; Dean circled it just in case his dad didn't go after it, and vowed to check on it later. There's an animal attack in Redwood National Park practically screamed wendigo, and a suspicious drowning in Flathead, Montana told Dean a very pissed off naiad is responsible.

Frowning, Dean ran through all the lore he knows about Flathead, he knows there is supposedly a lake monster there, and for all he knows that's what causing the drownings, or it could be a Weeping Woman (they like to drown people too) or it could be a stereotypical serial killer.

Any one of this options are bad. Weeping Women are hard to kill, so are naiads, and Dean's not going anywhere near a human serial killer. They are fucked up in the head. Give him monsters over humans any day of the week. At least monsters have a pattern and a set of rules, unlike humans who are complicated as fuck and go by their own made up, convoluted rules that no one can truly decipher without being fucked in the head as well.

He'll let Bobby get the Flathead one.

Dean dropped his head to the table with a thunk and a muffled groan. He moved his arms so they cushioned his head from the hard table and closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Getting back to hunting is a good move, he knows this, but fuck, he misses Steve and the others like a phantom limb. They became his family in the year he had known them, leaving them without a goodbye was the hardest thing he's ever had to do and the douchiest. Even if he does decide to go back, there is no way they'll forgive him, not after the stunt he pulled. He needs to put them behind him and get on with his life.

Fuck it. Dean's going after the rugaru. He needs a challenge to work off all the aggression he's kept pent up.

ALK

Dean let out a disgusted noise after he pulled out his machete from Ronald Bertram's chopped up body, whose head snarled at him. He squirted lighter fluid on the body, grinning when Bertram hissed at him when Dean sprayed him in the face, and dropped a lit match on him with a gleeful grin.

Fucker got the drop on him, knocking his gun out of his hands before Dean could even bring it up in defense. Dean had to improvise and he thanked god he still had his machete on in it's sheath from a vampire case he came across a town over on his way to this one. The vampire was a hell of a lot easier dispatching than the fucking rugaru. Nasty creatures. Both of them.

Why the fuck do they have to have human lives? It just makes his job that much harder to do.

It's also a bright neon flag to Steve of his possible whereabouts.

Just fucking great.

Dean absently wiped his machete clean on his jeans, his brow furrowed as he thought through his options. On autopilot, he slipped the now clean machete into its sheath on his belt as he walked away from the abandoned house with a burning body inside. He splashed gasoline all around the house before he lured the rugaru to the place, knowing he'll need a place to get rid of any supernatural evidence.

His arms are killing him. It took a lot chopping to get Bertram's body diced up enough where Dean could grab the lighter fluid and light the bastard up. Damn rugaru's are hard to kill and the only way to do so was by burning them. Hence the abandoned house and gasoline scattered about.

He brought his mind back to the present. There's signs of a demonic possession in Louisiana. If he goes to take care of it, there is an almost guarentee he'll run into his father. Anything demon related, John Winchester was not far behind.

Here's the thing, Dean really wants to go after the demon, and he knows it's a bad idea to go after a demon on his own but Dean's feeling reckless. No one would have to know. Well, unless he got himself killed because he took a demon on his own, and knowing his luck, the demon will get caught again, this time by his dad, and blab his fate to the incensed Winchester patriarch.

His dad would summon his ass from Heaven just so he could lecture him on doing something so stupid and dangerous.

Dean felt the rush of rebellion shoot through his body.

He never got to rebel when he was a teenager, too busy raising his brother and taking care of his dad to even consider doing something like going against dad's orders. That time with the shtriga knocked any thoughts of ever disobeying their dad's orders and effectively killed any thoughts of rebellion Dean ever had.

He still has nightmares about that night. So many what ifs.

What if his dad hadn't come home when he did? What if Dean hadn't've left the room? What if Dean had returned when the thing held Sam in its arms? What if he couldn't have fought the shtriga off of Sam and Dean had to watch his brother slowly die in front of him, knowing he was next? What if they had died from it? Would their dad even care that they were dead or would he shrug it off and continue his pursuit of their mother's killer?

That last question haunts Dean and he gets uncomfortable thinking about it. He's honestly scared to know the answer.

There are some questions a son doesn't need to know the answer to, or a subordinate to a commanding officer. Some lines don't need to be clarified or understood for the answer might rip the rug out from underneath a person. Hell, that's soul crushing if Dean ever found out his father's true priorities.

Aaaand Dean's treading dangerous ground. He needs to change the subject now.

Fuck it. Dean's going after the demon.

Deja vu, anyone?

ALK

Dean got his ass handed to him and then some but he has the biggest smile on his face and he's riding an unparalleled high.

Sure he's cut up, bruised, and supporting a few (hopefully not) broken bones, but god, he ganked that son of a bitch good. Dean exorcised a demon on his own, and he didn't screw it up! He sent that bastard back to Hell with a great big Fuck You from Dean Winchester. Granted, he maybe shouldn't have told the demon his name but he couldn't help it. He was riding the waves of adrenaline at the time and just rolled with it.

He's a badass hunter, baby!

The thing though, when Dean told the demon riding old Mrs. Cromwell's meatsuit his name, it looked surprised and maybe a little afraid. Maybe his dad is putting the fear of Winchester in demons on his quest to find Mary Winchester's murderer.

That is the only thing making sense of the demon's reaction. The only explanation that doesn't make Dean's skin crawl and make ice run through his veins.

No one wants demons and the realm of Hell to know their name.

Not anyone sane, that is.

Dean also shoved that far back in the deepest parts of his brain, labeled it "DO NOT OPEN UNLESS YOU WANT TO BECOME A PARANOID BASTARD", and sealed the door shut. It sat snugly next to a box labeled "Night: 1983 & Mommy's Scream" and a box "1994: Morland Ghost". Those are not happy memories and he'd prefer to never remember in his lifetime.

Enough of that, Dean thought with a shake of his head. No more sad or bad thoughts.

They're not conducive to hunting.

Dean showered to wash off the blood and to soothe his bruised and aching muscles, wincing when he moved in a way that aggravated his possibly (hopefully merely bruised) broken bones. He might have to go to the hospital to get those looked at.

If he was with a hunting buddy, he'd have them take a look at them to see if they need anything more than a wrap. Maybe he should give Caleb a call.

Nope. Call Caleb, he'll call dad, and dad will know where he's at. His dad might pull out the big guns and call Sam to come talk to him since John Winchester is as bad at talking about feelings as Dean is. Hell, Dean learned it from him.

Shit. He just thought of another reason not to go to the hospital; Steve will know where he's at. Chin probably has a running program of his facial recognition should he go to a hospital or something that requires an ID. They'll swoop in, berate and/or reclaim him, and then he'll have to have those talks with Steve and Danny.

Buuut, if he doesn't go to the hospital, he could die . . . from a booboo. That's an humiliating way to go out for a hunter. He'd be a laughing stock.

Dean sucked it up and went to the hospital to get checked out. He'll have to move fast once they were done making sure he wasn't going to impale himself with his own ribs and wouldn't die from an infection. He'll have to leave the painkillers behind. They'll take too long and increase the chances of him being caught by Five-Oh.

The doctors and nurses asked him questions how he ended up with two bruised (yay!) ribs, a sprained wrist, a few stab wounds (scratches really), a torso that looked like he'd been used as a punching bag (what? demons pack one hell of a punch), and a slight concussion (see: previous explanation).

Overall, Dean thought it could have been a lot worse.

Dean booked it as soon as they cleared him but got caught before he hit the automatic doors. They made him stay over night to make sure he didn't die from a concussion. He wouldn't but they didn't believe him for some reason.

The second they cleared him the next day, Dean accepted the pain pills and took off before they changed their mind and decided to keep him another night.

On his way out of town, Dean turned on his stolen police radio to hear if Steve and the others showed up, and to see just how much distance he needs to put between him and them. Half an hour later, Dean hears over the radio of Baton Rouge Police Department that an Hawaiian task force swooped in and hounded them for answers over a fleeing key witness of a case they're working on. BRPD did not like that, judging by the amount of grumbling and sneering over the channel.

Dean grinned.

As cover stories go, him being a fleeing key witness is not a bad way to ensure to get information out of inherently uncooperative local cops when it comes to government cops. Sometimes competing agencies work well in a hunter's favor.

This is not one of those times.

Stupid cops. Why couldn't they keep their trap shut?

Now Dean has to double time it. He had to stop fill up his prescription and to check out of the hotel he was staying in. Doing those stupid mundane things cost him valuable time. He can only hope that he put enough distance between him and Baton Rouge, and Five-0. Man, they move fast. Dean can admire that about them.

The thing is, despite them being unbelievably fast at tracking him (seriously, that's kind of terrifying at how quick they found him) down, Dean is faster and better.

He has a hunt in Boston he needs to get to. He could have gone after the hunt in Georgia, but that's a little too close to Louisiana for his comfort. He's tempting fate by going to Boston, it's near Caleb's territory, but he rather risk running into his fellow hunter than Steve and the others.

He has no idea how he'd react to seeing Steve again.

He might punch him. He might kiss him. Hell, Dean might do both, and get both back from Steve. Lord knows Dean wouldn't deserve it. From Danny and the other as well.

The months since he left Oahu, Dean can see that he overreacted to Steve's laughing at him. He acted like such a little bitch but he can't take it back. His pride won't let him. Though he does wonder why Steve laughed after Dean confessed his insecurities, but that is in the past and Dean has no plans on going back to Steve or Hawaii, at least not if he can help it.

He'll fire off an email to Kamekona, apologizing to his former (and only) boss for taking off like he did. It's the least he can do and it would be closing another chapter of his island life.

Theoretically, it should help him move on from a life that was pretty damn good until he got bored and toyed with Danny's feelings, encouraging the blond's developing feelings towards him until they became the real deal. That was a dick move on his part, he can admit.

Hell hath no fury like a Jersey cop scorned.

He's more afraid of Danny to be honest. He can take Steve, has beaten the SEAL before many times, but Danny? The blond wields words like a samurai, and he does not stop until he thinks you've learned your lesson. He's not someone to be pissed off lightly, just ask Steve and anyone who would dare hurt his family.

That and he has more guilt towards Danny than he does Steve.

Guilt is a powerful weapon when used properly, something he knows Danny knows how to use to it's deadliest form.

And he's getting dramatic but who cares? It's just him and the open road. No dad. No Sammy. No Steve. He's on his own, and he likes it.

He does.

But seriously. What was up with that demon getting all worried over his name? It has to do with his dad, right? It has to be the reason why it wigged and preferred to go back to hell than try to stop him from exorcising it. Demons, man. So weird.

It's going to bug him until he founds out the meaning behind the demon's reaction.

Fuck. That means more demon hunts, which means more of a chance running into his dad or his dad's hunting acquaintances who would rat out his location before Dean even registered why the guy looked so familiar and stop him. Sometimes hunters know when to keep their traps shut, unless it had to do with John Winchester, than their tongues are a-wagging in their haste to tell the Winchester patriarch whatever information he's looking for.

Any news of his sons would be considered high priority. Especially Dean.

Why? Because if a good lieutenant goes rogue, it needs to be reported and dealt with by their superior officer, in this case his dad.

Stupid military mentality.

They all recognize his father's dominance, his superiority, whether they admit it or not, they defer to his dad. And if his dad as a hunter BOLO out for him, there is nowhere he can hide.

Well.

That's a lie.

He can go back to Hawaii. It's out of his father's reach because the island protectors don't listen to haoles.

Actually that'd be a good idea. Steve and the others are on the mainland looking for him, it'd be the perfect place to hide out until Dean figures out what he's going to do. Taking hunts in the Midwest is starting to get old. He feels more trapped here than he did on the island, where he was literally trapped by the ocean and the only way to the other islands was either by plane or boat. He could hide out on Kauai. They'd never think to look for him there.

Yeah. There's plenty of rental properties there that are cash based. He'll just have to scrape together the money he'll need. It should take a month, at the latest.

So much for his plan on not going back to Hawaii.

God has a sick sense of humor. When Dean meets him, he's going to clock the Almighty right on his nose. His angels, too. Nah, he'll stab the angels instead of punching them. It'll be more satisfying stabbing them and watching their bewildered faces at a mere mortal having the audacity to hurt one of the Host.

Grinning, Dean turned up the music and sang along loudly, practically shouting as he cruised his way to Boston. He's still got a hunt to do. He'll worry about getting the funds together for his venture back to Hawaii later.