Sam furrowed his brows and turned over to face the other wall when Dean's phone went off, the annoying chirp rousing him out of a short span of sleep. "Dean, your phone." When his brother didn't answer, he covered his head with his pillow before throwing it over towards the other bed, hoping that he made contact. "Dean. Get your phone." The ringing stopped and dinged once with a voicemail notification, finally forcing Sam to sit up and look around. "Dean! Dean…?" He cocked his head when he saw his older brother sitting with his back to him, typing away on his computer. "Hey, what are you doing on my computer?"
"Come here and take a look at this, Sammy."
Grumbling to himself about lack of sleep, the younger Winchester pulled himself from his bed and trudged over to lean over his brother's shoulder. "What is it?"
"This house. It seemed like your average household, dad, mom, two kids, then they started sensing what seemed like a spirit. It seemed friendly enough so they left it alone. But apparently Casper had some evil friends he let in and now there's a vengeful spirit there, which of course the family isn't so fond of."
Sam pulled over another chair and leaned in to inspect the news article displayed on the screen. His eyes scanned over the words before nodding. "Yeah, I can see why you'd want to help them."
Dean glanced over at his brother, turning his head a fraction of an inch. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Sam replied, standing up with a smile. "Just know that I know more about you than you think I do. I pay attention." The younger man stretched and ran a hand through his messy hair. "If we're going, we should start moving. Oh, and I'm driving since you used my computer." He turned and walked away to get ready, laughing at the sounds of his brother sputtering obscenities at his retreating back.
When the car slowed to a stop, Dean leaned around Sam to get a better look at the house they would hopefully be spending the night in. "Looks like a decent place," he remarked, arching an eyebrow skeptically. "For once it's not a place that looks like it's been through hell."
"That makes it all the more unnerving," Sam replied, getting out of the car. "It's always the quiet places that seem like everything is alright that scare me the most."
"You're quiet, does that mean I should be scared of you?"
"Shut up, Dean. Get out of the car."
The older Winchester cast him his classic smirk, his eyes glittering with deviance. "Bitch."
"Jerk." Sam closed his door and crossed over to the trunk. "So tell me what we're going in as this time?"
"Well, I am proud to say that we are actually going in there to do our job as ourselves. Well, not ourselves, we'll use fake names as always but we're not going in as FEDs, CDC, or anything like that. Just regular old ghost hunters. Snagged this case before the Ghostfacers could get their hands on it. We've been so muddled in all of the angel drama, I thought it would be nice just to do a case like we used to."
Sam smiled but couldn't help but feel like it was forced. It felt a little trivial to be chasing ghosts when there was a little something called the apocalypse looming over their heads. But Dean looked so excited…he knew that his older brother needed a break from it all every now and then. The older Winchester got burned out a lot—it made sense, he had never had a real break from it. So Sam just smiled and followed after Dean, wondering if this would feel like it used to.
Dean straightened his tie and cleared his throat before knocking on the door, putting on his best friendly smile just in time. When a frazzled looking man opened the door, Dean immediately stuck out his hand for a handshake. "Good afternoon. Are you David Connors?"
"Yes. And you are?"
"Hawes and Wilson. We're the paranormal investigators you requested."
Sam glanced over at Dean with a look that clearly read "really, Dean?", to which Dean smiled and shrugged. He shook his head before turning back to David and forcing a smile, hoping it came across as reassuring. "We're here to see what's going on here and put an end to it for you."
"Great, yeah, come on in." He opened the door wider for them to enter the house and once they were inside, closed the door behind them. Motioning them along after him, he proceeded to lead them around the house, pointing out where things had moved, where they felt cold presences and negative energy, and where they had seen lights and apparitions.
"Sounds like you've got a houseparty going on in here," Dean commented as Sam made the last note and flipped the notebook closed.
"We do. We were okay with the first one…but when it started getting malicious, we knew we had to do something. We want our kids to feel safe in their own home."
"Naturally," Sam replied with the reassuring smile that he had perfected over years of doing this job. He nodded to David then turned to Dean. "It's pretty typical for ghosts to like working at night. So since it's pretty late now, we'll just start setting up and getting a look around. If you and your family would like to stay in a hotel for the night…?" When David nodded and made a quick departure, his family hurrying along behind him, Sam cocked his head and watched them as they backed out of the driveway. "They're scared, Dean. They're genuinely scared to be in their own house."
"Then let's gank these sons of bitches and be out of here by morning!"
"Not so fast, Dean-o."
Dean heaved a heavy sigh and hit his forehead repeatedly with the heel of his hand, his eyes closed. "Please tell me I'm hearing things. Please tell me I'm hearing things. Sammy, tell me I'm—"
"You're not hearing things, Dean."
Dean opened his eyes and wasn't surprised to see Gabriel standing before him, his eyelashes fluttering as he unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it into his mouth. When Dean didn't move or speak, Gabriel pulled it from his mouth and held it towards him. "Want a lick? It's strawberry."
"No, I don't want any of your damn candy," Dean snapped, slapping at the sticky lollipop which he instantly regretted and wiped on Gabriel's jacket. "Freakin' angel. What do you want?"
Gabriel opened his mouth, but the voice that responded was not his own. "We wish to help you, Dean." The archangel's lips turned into a smirk when Dean visibly relaxed at the sound of the new voice.
"Cas. Why? Do you know something about this that we don't?"
"No, not at all. In fact, we probably know even less," the newest voice said. Judging by the snarky toned British accent, Dean knew who it was in an instant. Just what he needed. Cas, he didn't mind. But when both Gabriel and Balthazar were involved…he knew this wasn't going to end up well.
"Then what are you doing here?" Dean growled, running his hand through his short, spiked hair.
"Cas was…how do you say…longing for—no! Better yet, he was pining for you."
"That is not true," Castiel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact with any of the other members of their group. He squared his shoulders and took a step forward, eyes roving around to take in their surroundings. "We should get going if you want to solve this case by morning, Dean."
The older Winchester stole a ruffled glare at Sam, who shook his head, his hair flopping into his eyes which he quickly tucked back. Dean shoved a rock salt filled gun against Castiel's chest until he took it in his own long, graceful fingers and looked at it with his head cocked in confusion. "What?"
"How do I…"
Dean heaved a sigh and held out his own gun for the angel to see. "You point, you shoot. Not that hard, Cas." When his eyes flickered up and caught sight of the sad look in Castiel's eyes. He didn't know how the blue-eyed angel had managed to master the puppy dog expression so damn well, but however he had learned it, it worked. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Just…don't look at me like that."
"I don't understand how I'm looking at you but I will do my best not to," Castiel said with a stiff nod. "You should proceed. We will be right behind you."
At this, Dean nodded and turned towards the main portion of the house. "Let's go kill this sonofabitch and see why Casper is opening up doors for things like it."