See no evil, hear no evil, kill no evil: A Winchester Family Vacation

Welcome to the story! This is technically a sequel to "Stowaway," but if you haven't read that story you should be able to follow this one. All you need to know is that Gwen is Sam's daughter. She does not want anything to do with hunting, and Sam and Dean decided to take her on a road trip to South America in order to have some monster-free family bonding time.

Also, this story is an AU post Season 11, pre Season 12. Gwen shot Lady Toni in the bunker, Sam was never tortured, and the Men of Letters have no idea what happened to their operative. Mary is back form the dead, and still trying to figure out what she thinks of this strange new world she woke up in.

Summary: The Winchesters are on a family vacation and are determined that NO HUNTING will occur on said vacation. The Men of Letters are trying to figure out what happened to Lady Toni, who was killed a the bunker (instead of abducting Sam). Meanwhile, the Latino hunters and Men of Letters are trying to figure out what the Winchesters are doing south of the border.

Chapter One: Headed South

"'Cause I was headed north to Tennessee, and Old Red was headed SOUTH!" Dean punched his fist in the air with the last line of the song, and drummed on the steering wheel as the chorus faded out. "Now there's red haired blue-ticks all through the South. Love got me in and love-"

Dean halted mid-note. Sam was staring at him with the reproachful look that begged the question, 'who are you want what have you done to my brother?' "Country music Dean? Really?"

Little brother never missed the chance to point out that big brother's macho persona was not all he made it out to be.

Dean scowled and pointed an accusing hand at the radio. "We're in Texas, Sammy. It's country or Mexican. Besides." Dean pointed to the road ahead of them. The landscape was dotted with cacti and palm trees. "We are headed south."

In the back seat, Cass cocked his head, his expression puzzled. "Do you mean to imply that this family vacation is similar to a dog having-"

"Whoa! Cass! My mom is in the car!"

Mary's eyebrows climbed to her hairline. "You should have heard some of the music your father sang with me-"

"Who wants to listen to a mariachi band?" Dean's finger slapped the radio to flip the station and crank the volume in one move. The end of Mary's comment was drowned out by the sounds of guitar, trumpet, and a voice crooning about 'amor.'

Mary settled back with a satisfied expression. She had learned very quickly that the best way to make Dean's face turn red was to mention parent sex. Sam cast Mary an appreciative grin. It was good to have an ally against the big brother.

"What the heck is that!" On Cass's other side, Gwen pulled out an earbud and stared at the radio as if it had bitten her.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Dean's voice dripped with false sympathy. "Is Pedro Fernandez not meshing with your X Ambassadors?"

Gwen's eyes narrowed.

"You know," Dean continued. "If I had my cassette collection, we'd have more options."

Sam's lips twitched, as if he had a few thoughts on the matter, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"More options?" Gwen snorted.

"Yes, more options. Good options. Classic options. But no, someone moved it while we were loading up."

"We all have ipods!" Gwen held up her music player. "Dad has one, even grandma has one! You have one too. I know you do."

"Drivers aren't allowed to use headphones." Not that Dean generally cared about the finer points of traffic laws. But he could recite them all. "Besides, if you have headphones you can't share. This is a family vacation."

"Yeah, and that's what the Bluetooth speakers are for." Gwen fetched something out of her back that resembled a hockey puck with a mesh speaker output on one side.

Mary reached across Cass to take the speaker and stare at it. "This can play music from your phone?"

"Yes, but I still haven't figured out what it has to do with blue teeth," Castiel said.

Mary looked at Gwen, as if expecting an answer to the angel's question.

"The Impala's speakers are better," Dean grumbled.

"No, actually the one by me is developing a crackle." Dean turned his glare onto his little brother, but Sam met his gaze calmly, and then reached forward to flip off the radio. "Turn it up, Gwen!"

"I miss my Zeppelin," Dean muttered.

"Yeah?" Sam had little sympathy. "Well I miss my flannel."

o0o

Back at the bunker…

"Where's Dean? We're ready." Mary stood in the kitchen doorway with a bag slung over her shoulder. Gwen was next to her, loaded down with a duffle, a backpack, and a handbag. She listed to one side under the weight.

Sam looked up from the cooler he was packing for the road. "He went out to get supplies."

Mary shook her head. "No, he got back a few minutes ago."

"Ready to go!" Dean burst into the room. "Come one, Sammy! Time to get ready."

Sam stared at his brother, not quite sure he believed what he saw. Dean was wearing Bermuda shorts in a frightening shade of yellow, topped by a light cotton button-up splashed with tropical flowers. He had a fisherman's hat in one hand, and two duffel bags in the other.

"What are you wearing?"

"We're going on vacation. This is what people on vacation wear. Don't worry. I got some for you, too." Dean hefted Sam's duffel meaningfully, then his eyes narrowed. "Did you just put a smoothie in that cooler?"

"He made one for me to try, and I liked it," Mary said.

"Yeah, well" Dean's retort was cut short by Mary's pro-smoothie vote. He hadn't figured out how to say 'no' to his mother yet. "There better be room for beer."

"Aren't you driving?" Gwen asked. She was still dressed sensibly for the chilly Midwest spring, but her flip-flops hung off the side of her bag in anticipation of the South American heat.

Sam was still staring at the duffel Dean had brought him. "You packed for me?" Sam snatched his bag and opened it. No way was he going to leave home for a two-month trek and trust his brother had remembered everything he would need. He stared at the contents, then glared at his brother. "These are not my clothes."

"We are on vacation! That means no flannel and no fed suits."

"Flannel is not a work uniform, Dean."

"Well you're not wearing it in Mexico. Let's hit the road!"

"I have to pack." Sam stepped around Mary and Gwen toward the hallway that led to their bedrooms. Dean shrugged and examined the contents of the cooler. A moment later, Sam burst back into the room.

"Where are my clothes? My dresser is empty."

"Vacation, Sammy! You don't need your work clothes on vacation." Dean settled a six-pack on the top of the cooler. "We're ready!"

Gwen shuffled toward the garage, weighed down by her luggage. "I'll start loading up!"

o0o

Present

Dean pointed to the Mickey-mouse face plastered across Sam's t-shirt. "That's one-hundred percent cotton. It'll feel great in the heat."

"It would feel great if I picked it out myself! Besides, we're not going to Disney."

"Boys!" Mary's voice cut across the bickering brothers. "There's a tollbooth or something up ahead."

"Ah! That would be the border." Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out two blue booklets, which he handed to Cass and Mary. "You'll need these."

Mary's brow crinkled as she stared at her own photograph. "I'm not sure how I feel about this."

"What? You grew up a hunter, it's not like you've never used a fake ID before."

"No I haven't." Mary said. "Most hunters don't."

Sam and Dean shared a look. Cass offered a few words of comfort. "It's ok, we won't be arrested. They do this all the time."

"Besides, he used mine to make the fakes, so it should be accurate." Gwen held up her own passport. Mary did not look reassured.

Dean leaned into the accelerator, making the Impala's engine roar. "Vacation, here we come!"

o0o

Pit-Stop. US dollars accepted. We speak English! The sign was written in blocky letters that had once been bright but were now faded after years in the harsh sun. There was no need to spend extra money on an upgrade; the proximity of the border crossing and lack of other options ensured that the small gas station and convenience store kept up a steady business.

The proprietor, Enrique, had kept an eye on the border for the past twenty years. He saw every car that crossed the high barricade separating Mexico from the USA. Most of the travelers stopped at his place for gas and a bit of food before continuing to their vacation destination of choice.

If the newcomer thought that a traveler was food, well, Enrique took care of it. He had a good eye for spotting monsters. It was amazing what American people-eaters thought they could get away with once they crossed the border. They were so excited to be out of Winchester territory, they thought it was open season south of the border.

They thought wrong.

"Yes, sir, best motel in town." Enrique slid a brochure across the counter toward the shifter. There was still a bit of slim on the young man's skin from his last molt.

But it wouldn't do to kill him in front of the tourists. His sister owned the motel, and Enrique had a set of master keys.

Of course, Juana would send him the cleaning bill if things got too messy.

The shifter's eyes grew wide, his head snapped around to stare out the window, and he dropped the brochure as if it had burned him. "Thanks, man, but I'm moving on."

Drat. Enrique reclaimed the brochure and set it back in the rack. What had sent the shifter off in such a panic?

Sunlight glinted off of the car that had pulled up to the pump outside. Black and silver, the car was an antique.

No. It couldn't be.

Enrique pressed his face against the window to get a better look.

It was. A '67 Chevy Impala sat there. Two girls poured out the back calling for the bathroom. A giant emerged from the passenger seat and came in to load up on pre-packaged snacks. A stocky man was pumping gas, his eyes flicking from side to side in a professional sweep of the landscape.

Looking for monsters?

Enrique processed the transaction for the taller man's snacks wordlessly. The ladies piled back into the car, and as Enrique watched them leave, the man in the middle of the back seat turned around to meet his stare with a pair of piercing blue eyes.

They said the Winchesters ran with an angel in a trench coat.

Winchesters. The American monster's version of a boogey-man. They said there wasn't a monster those two couldn't figure out how to kill. Some talked about meetings with God and the devil. Enrique wasn't sure he believed all that.

All he knew was that Winchesters took on the worst cases. The end-of-the-world kind of stuff.

Enrique ran back to his phone. His heart thumped as he waited for an answer. "Jose! Have you heard of anything big happening? Demon signs? Freak acts of nature?"

There was a shrug in Jose's voice. "Uh-no. I mean, I had to drown a succubus in a lake last week, but that's nothing new. Everything's quiet here. Why?"

"I just saw the Winchesters."

"Yeah? You on vacation up north?"

Enrique shook his head, then remembered Jose couldn't see him. "No. No, I'm at the station."

"You mean the Winchesters are here? In Mexico?"

"Yes."

Jose swore sharply. "What do they want?"

"I don't know! I thought after that whole sun-almost-died thing, we'd be in the clear for a little while." He should have asked when the tall one was purchasing his snacks. Enrique had no problem engaging werewolves and skin walkers in casual chit-chat. Why not a Winchester? "These guys never take on anything small."

"You have to find out what they're after!" Jose, like any hunter in the business, knew that Winchester's didn't travel this far for just another ghost hunt.

"They left already."

"Right. I'll take the bottom half of the phone tree, you take the top."

Enrique didn't waste time on good-byes. He cut the call and dialed the next number on his list. "Chavo! Hey, have you seen anything weird lately?

o0o

Can Sam and Dean manage to spend an entire summer without hunting? What will Mary think of vacation Winchester-style? What will Sam and Dean think of the Mexican hunters?

The song referenced is "Ol' Red" by Blake Shelton.

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