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We've Got Work To Do (2/2)

Title: We've Got Work to Do.

Word Count: 12080

Summary: The Winchesters have faced yet another would be apocalypse and won. You would think, they’d be able to enjoy a little peace and quiet, but fate, the Secret Service and Chuck have other plans for them.

Disclaimer: Are we still doing these? Look, I don't own ‘em, never have and I don't make a penny out of these little scribbles, so please don't sue.

Notes: This is how I would've wanted the show to end fic. It won't happen as it's been Kripked to hell and back since it was started back in April before the episode Games Night.
 I still wanted to finish this story as I'm a sucker for a hopeful ending, even though we’ve lost several beloved characters along the way. You’ll notice that there’s a few shoutouts to a few of my favourite shows, such as Angel, Buffy and Criminal Minds. I’m sure you’ll be able to spot them.

 There's a couple of people who I'd like to thank for their help with this. First bigj52, a beta without compare who turns my scribbles into English. And chellexxx, Obi enabler, partner in crime and handholder extraordinaire. Thank you for putting up with my wibbling.


Chapter 2

Six months later


Since that day the world found out about the supernatural and hunters, the Winchesters' lives had become even more chaotic.

It started with a trip to Washington to help the Secret Service demon proof the White House.

While they worked, Sam watched Dean like a hawk, in case he got the urge to slip a souvenir or two into his pocket. He didn't want to get back to the Bunker to find Dean doodling with the President's pen.

The first problem they encountered was how to draw warding sigils, and a key of Solomon in the Oval Office. To Sam's horror, Dean suggested tearing up the carpet. As Dean reached for his crowbar, their Secret Service escort offered them an alternative.

The agent handed them several cans of invisible ultraviolet spray paint. They were also handed special goggles that allowed them to see the paint. As they got to work warding the office, Dean started to hum the Mission Impossible theme. By the twentieth time he heard it, Sam was ready to throttle his brother, but if the look on the agent's face was anything to go by, Dean was about to be dragged off and thrown in a cell. Sam hoped that was the case, he could do with the peace.

Once they'd finished, the White House was covered with every ward and sigil they could think of. Their next job saw them in a room full of military personnel and Secret Service. They gave them lessons on how to make rock salt rounds and silver bullets. Sam also suggested having holy water in the sprinkler system, in case of a demon attack.

When they returned from Washington, Dean tried to carry on hunting as normal. But they found themselves surrounded by adoring fans, clamouring for selfies. At first, Dean felt flattered by the attention, but it lost its appeal when he couldn't even eat a cheeseburger in peace. The situation came to a head when Sam in mid salt and burn, was almost gutted by a homicidal ghost, because a fan wanted a selfie with him.

Dean wanted to blast the moron with rock salt, but Sam stopped him before he had the chance.

When they got back to the Bunker, Sam suggested they lay low for a while. Just until the fuss died down, and Dean's blood pressure was back to normal.

While they were on lockdown in the Bunker, the phones never stopped ringing. People were begging for help, and hunters rang, needing their expertise with lore. Dean spent his time trying to deal with as many calls as possible, while Sam researched.

With hunts piling up, Dean had no choice but to start reaching out to other hunters. This was happening more and more. One day, as they sat in the War room grabbing a bite to eat, Dean complained he felt like a police dispatcher.

Sam took a bite of his sandwich, and looked down at the map on the table. He suddenly looked up and said, "How about if we resurrect the Men of Letters hunter network?"

Sam leaned forward excitedly, as he outlined his plan for the new and improved network. It made Dean happy to see Sam so enthusiastic about something again. Sam hadn't been the same since the whole Michael crap fest. Especially after Michael broke free, and slaughtered the hunters under Sam's command.

From that moment Sam hated being in the Bunker, preferring to spend as much time on the road as possible. But if this turn of events meant Sam was once again happy in their home, then Dean was all for it.

Sam, Dean, Castiel and Jack got to work, reaching out to hunters to explain what they were attempting. There were a surprising number of hunters who liked Sam's idea. And soon the Bunker became the nerve centre for the fledging network. They were dealing with more and more calls, and soon became too much for them to handle. It meant they often worked late into the night, and it wasn't long before they were exhausted.

They were all running on fumes, even Cas was starting to look a little frazzled. One day when Dean was on yet another coffee run, he talked about how busy they'd become. The next day Sam was stunned to find a group of volunteers from town at their door. They were all ready and willing to help with the new network.

Sam was in his element, as he showed his recruits the digitalized Men of Letters Archive and how to operate it. It didn't take long for the Network to start running smoothly, and Dean began to think about hunting again.

Before he had a chance to broach the subject with Sam, they received a visit from a couple of F.B.I. agents. Special Agents Prentiss and Rossi weren’t there to arrest them, but to ask for help. A new Supernatural Crime unit was being set up, and they wanted Sam and Dean's input.

After the agents left, and several beers and whiskey chasers later, Sam suggested Dean handle practical training at Quantico, while he trained agents and analysts the art of Supernatural research in the Bunker. Then going forward, he’d help them create their own database. Dean stared at Sam, a part of him was happy to be out on the road again. That joy was tempered by the fear of making himself look like an idiot, in front of a roomful of FEDS. Dean poured himself another drink to try and settle his nerves.

Sam smiled. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. You taught me how to hunt. Remember?" He said encouragingly.

"You're my brother. You had to listen to me, and besides, dad was the one who taught you."

Sam snorted. "Come on, you know how we butted heads. Dad may have drilled us until we could field strip a gun in the dark, but you were the one who explained why I needed to be able to do it. You had patience, dad was a drill sergeant. Believe me, you were the better teacher."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe, but I'm not sure my old reward system will work with the FEDS. I can't see them leaping for joy, when I offer them a bowl of Lucky Charms, if they get something right." He smiled ruefully.

Sam sat forward. "You're Dean Winchester, the best hunter there is. They're damn lucky to have you teaching them."

Dean ducked his head and smiled shyly at his brother's belief in him. He'd thought about who he could pass his knowledge of hunting on to. He would never have imagined he'd be teaching a roomful of FEDS. He wondered how they’d cope with learning how to set traps for Kelpies, or get rid of Poltergeists. Perhaps it might be fun to shake the stick from up their collective asses.

"Do you think I'll get an apple on my desk?" He asked with a grin.

Sam laughed and shook his head. "No, but if you're lucky, they won't shoot you for being a smartass." Sam reached for his laptop. "Now we need to work on your lesson plan!" Dean groaned softly as Sam typed.

Dean yawned as he turned off the Impala's engine. It had taken him three days to get back from Quantico. He was taking a break after teaching his latest Hunter 101 course. He was ready for a couple of cold beers, and the chance to get reacquainted with his memory foam mattress. He just hoped it hadn't forgotten him. It seemed like an age since he'd been home.

He wouldn't call his class of agents ‘hunters’, but at least they knew what was out there now. There were several agents he'd trust to watch his back. But the others still couldn't shake the whole we're Federal agents and we follow the rules. It was like having a class full of Mulders and Scullys. He smacked the steering wheel.

 That was it! He'd have the Scullys and Mulders partnered up. That way they stood a chance of surviving a supernatural encounter. Feeling pleased with himself, he opened the door and climbed out stiffly. Dean moaned softly as he stretched to work the kinks out of his back. He grabbed his bag, and headed for the front door of the Bunker with a smile on his face. He'd die before he admitted it, but he'd missed Sam, Cas, and Jack.

Once he was inside, Dean headed for the meeting room. It didn't matter it was Friday night; he knew that's where he'd find Sam.

Dean grinned as he walked into the room. He was right. There was Sam with his group of agents, still working hard. Sam looked up and smiled, "Hey, how was Quantico?" He asked as he walked over to Dean.

Dean put his bag on the table and shrugged. "The same as always. They keep trying to do everything by the book. I keep telling them, monsters don't play by the rules, so quit yelling ‘freeze F.B.I.’ at them." Dean smirked evilly at Sam. "So, we did a little role play and I got to play the bad guy."

"Oh god, what did you do?" Sam asked warily, wondering if he'd have to ring the Director of the F.B.I. again to apologize.

Dean shrugged. "Nothing much. But there's a group of Federal Agents who've got a healthy respect for Werewolves now." He winked cheekily at Sam." You got anything interesting?" Dean asked, changing the subject.

Sam looked at the tablet in his hand. "There's a group of rogue vampires down in New Orleans. An unauthorized Werewolf pack in Wisconsin, and a ghoul problem over in Bakersfield. I've got hunters on the way."

Dean nodded. "As long as the vamps aren't being emo and sparkly all over the place like Robert Pattinson, we'll be fine. Anything you want me to take on?"

Sam shook his head. "It's all taken care of. Besides, I thought you might want a break. You've been working non-stop for weeks."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "Standing in front of a classroom of Feds ain't working. You know I like to stay sharp." Dean sighed. He'd been hoping that Sam would be able to provide him with a good old-fashioned down and dirty hunt. He still kind of missed having grave dirt and blood under his fingernails.

Dean glanced around the room, and realized that Team Freewill 2.0 was down a couple of members. "Where's Cas and Jack?"

"They're on their way back from a job. They've been dealing with an outbreak of Zombies in Atlanta. Cas was helping to organize the police response," Sam replied.

"Damn, they have all the fun," Dean muttered.

Just then, the Bunker's door opened, and Cas and Jack walked in. Jack was engrossed in a paperback book and seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Cas spotted the brothers and walked over to them. "Hello Sam. Hello Dean, how was Quantico?" Cas inquired.

"Boring as usual. How was Atlanta?"

"Tense. A necromancer razed an entire cemetery, and the city was in danger of being overrun by zombies."

"You should've called me; I would've brought some of the trainees with me. I'd like to see how they'd cope with Zombies. I've got a guy called Morgan in the class who thinks he's got hunting pegged. But there's nothing like being chased through a cemetery by a pack of starving Zombies to give you a fresh perspective on things." Dean turned his attention to Jack, who was still avidly reading his book. "Hey Jack, what are you reading?"

Jack looked up and smiled at Dean. "Eliot found these on Amazon for me. Were you and Sam really teddy bear doctors?" Jack asked as he held the book up for Dean to see.

Dean growled as he reached out and grabbed it. "Crap! I can't believe these things are still available." He glared at the lurid cover; his lip curled in disgust.

 The Sam and Dean on the cover looked ridiculous. 'He' was a blue steeling six-pack Ken doll. And Sam was all long blond hair and bulging biceps. To make it worse they were half-naked; they wouldn't last five minutes in the real world dressed like that. If a monster didn't gank them, then other hunters would die laughing at them.

"Not only are they still available, but they're now number one on the New York Times Bestseller list. The Bible never managed that, it's very satisfying." Dean nearly dropped the book in shock, as Chuck appeared beside him with a smile on his face.

Chuck's smile dimmed a little, as he was surrounded by steely-eyed Federal Agents. They had their guns pointing at him, and some of them were chanting exorcisms.

"Whoa, stand down. You'll embarrass yourselves." Dean waved the agents away. "What brings you back here? Come to collect your royalties?" Dean asked as he waved the book at Chuck.

Chuck took the book off Dean and stared thoughtfully at the cover. "That's a good point." He looked up with an enthusiastic smile on his face. "I think I'll set up an account for the hunter's network, and have the royalties sent there."

"Beats credit card fraud. Talk to Sam about it. The Network's his baby. I just go where he tells me." Dean shrugged.

"Ignore him, Chuck. It might've been my idea, but Dean was instrumental in recruiting some of the more sceptical hunters out there." Sam smiled warmly as he shook Chuck's hand.

Jack looked at Cas. "I thought Dean threatened to break the legs of any hunter who didn't sign up?"

Sam coughed. "As I said, Dean was very convincing."

Chuck's smile broadened as Dean smiled proudly. "Actually, it's the Network I want to talk about. And I need a favour."

Sam straightened up. "Sure, whatever you want."

Chuck looked over at the unfriendly stares of the F.B.I. agents and Sam followed his gaze. "Guys, haven’t I told you that not everything Supernatural is evil? Investigate it, and then if they're not hurting people, you leave them alone. How about we talk in the Library?" Sam said as he ushered Chuck out of the War Room.

"I want to start by saying you've done a great job in creating a worldwide hunter's network," Chuck said to Sam as he sat down.

Sam looked at him in shock. "Hold on, there's only a network here in America. I haven't spoken to any hunters from other countries."

"True, you haven't," Chuck said meaningfully as he looked at Dean.

Dean shrugged. "Last time I spoke to Ketch, I told him what you were doing. He seemed pretty interested. Then he said he was heading home; there was something he wanted to do."

Chuck nodded. "The something Ketch wanted to do, was stage a coup against his previous employers. He's running the British Men of Letters these days. He spread the word about your network to the other chapters around the world. He suggested Sam's new network became the blueprint for dealing with the Supernatural. Arthur will be calling you soon, to put the global network at your disposal." Chuck beamed proudly at Sam, as Dean patted him on the back.

"That's great news, but what's the hunter network got to do with the favour you want?" Sam asked.

"It's got plenty to do with it. During mine and Amara's family time we travelled to many different dimensions. I began to realize there were worlds on the brink of sharing the same fate as Michael's Apocalypse world. I don't know if I can stand by and let that happen." Chuck said, as he folded his hands in front of him.

Dean's eyebrows raised. "So you're gonna swing in and start smiting, then?"

Chuck shook his head. "No. I meant it when I said I was done helicopter parenting. But I happen to know a group of individuals, who could help organize hunters and save people. Since you've done such a great job setting up Hunter Network here, I wondered if you'd like to see if it would work in other dimensions."

As Dean listened to Chuck, his mind raced at the prospect of hunting on other worlds. He thought about all the people they could save, and all the evil sons of bitches they could kill. No matter what he said about retiring, he was still a hunter at heart. But if Sam wasn't on board with this, then he'd happily carry on playing nursemaid to a bunch of FEDS.

Sam was staring at the table, lost in thought, when he felt Dean's eyes on him. He lifted his head and met his brother's eyes. Sam had a smile on his face, and a determined look in his eyes, and Dean knew exactly what it meant. "What do you say, Sammy. Ready to take the family business on the road?"

Since they'd said yes to Chuck's request, Dean had been raring to go. If it had been left to him, they would've been packed and ready to ship out in under an hour. But he knew Sam wanted to make sure the network would run smoothly without him. Sam spent the next week making frantic preparations for their departure. Every time Dean saw his brother, he was making page after page of notes for Bobby.

While Sam worked, Dean didn't sit around idly. He tuned the Impala until she was running like a dream, then cleaned and checked their weapons, ready to load them into the trunk.

At long last, it was time for them to head out, and Dean was taking one last look around his room. His weapons were already stowed in the Impala's trunk, and his bag was packed and ready on his bed. He picked it up and patted his beloved memory foam mattress, hoping that one day they'd be reunited. He straightened and walked to the door to give his room a final look. He was more than a little sad to be leaving the first real home he and Sam had ever had together.

He might have been sad about leaving the Bunker, but he'd never regret his decision to see other worlds. The best part was he'd have his family with him. With that thought in his mind, he turned out the light, and closed the door behind him.

Dean made his way to the garage, nodding at people as he passed them. Elliot looked up from his work on the new Men of Letters database, and waved excitedly. Dean passed a group of Feds and Hunters, debating which guns were the most effective against the Supernatural. The conversation died away as they silently acknowledged Dean. Then one of the hunters spoke, "Give ‘em hell, Dean, and if you want any backup…….."

Dean grinned, "I know, Abe, don't call you. Try not to let this place fall apart while we're gone."

"Hell no! I'm terrified of your mother and what she'd do to us if we broke Sam's shiny new toy. You boys be careful out there." Abe smiled warmly.

"You know me, careful is my middle name. Now if you'll excuse me, I better not keep Sam waiting too long, or else he might start filming Ted Talks to inspire you." Dean winked at Abe.

"I swear I'll put a bullet in my laptop, if your brother pops up and starts spouting crap about self-belief, and the healing properties of kale," Abe replied with a laugh.

Dean left the group, and as he walked into the garage, he spotted Sam talking to Bobby and their mom. At first, Mary had been adamant she was going to come with them. Dean was firmly against that idea; he was going to have enough on his plate keeping Sam, Cas, and Jack safe. He didn't need the extra worry of watching out for his mom as well. Fortunately, Bobby managed to convince her to stay and help run the Network.

As Dean joined them Mary was hugging Sam, and when they broke apart, he saw her eyes were filled with tears. She blinked rapidly and an errant tear made its way down her face. She quickly wiped it away as she turned to her eldest son. "Hey Dean, you ready to go?" She asked with an overly bright smile on her face.

"Yup, I'm packed and ready to roll. Has Sam finished giving you his orders yet?" Dean asked, ignoring Sam's frustrated huff.

"We've got spreadsheets, PowerPoint presentations and the hunters’ equivalent of War and Peace in the library. My guess is he's good to go." Bobby grumbled as he scratched his beard.

"I wanted to make sure I'd got everything covered," Sam said unrepentantly.

"Sam, unless the Kardashians go dark side and try to take over the world, we're golden," Dean replied.

"I think he covered that in Chapter Thirty-Two," Bobby quipped dryly as Dean grinned at his fuming brother.

Dean turned to his mom as she opened her arms wide. Dean gladly stepped into her embrace and as they hugged, she whispered. "You take care of yourself and Sam. I've warned Cas if he lets anything happen to either of you, I'm going to hunt him down and kick his ass."

Dean smiled as he breathed in the comforting scent of motel shampoo and gun oil. The familiar Winchester fragrance. "Don't worry, I'll look after Sammy. I promise we'll make it back here someday."

"I know you will. Now go out there and kick it in the ass." Mary squeezed Dean tightly, then stepped back, her hand lingering on Dean's shoulder.

Dean couldn't find the words to say goodbye to his mother. Instead, he nodded, picked up his bag and turned toward the Impala. He looked up, and saw Chuck deep in conversation with Cas and Jack.

Dean couldn't hear what they were discussing, but if he had to hazard a guess, Chuck was probably giving them a final briefing. For the last few days, Jack had been hard at work learning to open portals, and now he had it down to a fine art.

Dean looked away and opened the trunk. He heard a low whistle from Sam. He looked up and grinned at the mesmerized look on Sam's face. Even by Winchester standards, the number of weapons he'd packed was impressive.

"Expecting a little trouble?" Sam asked with a smile.

"We're not going into this naked. For all we know, we're about to drop into the middle of a freaking war zone." Dean picked up a gun, checked it, then put it back. He paused for a moment, and then turned to Sam.

"You sure you're ok with this? ‘Cause if you're not, I'll go over there and tell Chuck he can ask someone else to go and save his multiverse." Dean waited. If Sam had even the slightest doubt about doing this, he was going to call a halt to the whole thing.

Sam squared his shoulders, and looked around the garage. For a moment his gaze lingered on their mom, then he looked at Dean. "To be honest, I wasn't all that sure about doing this at first, but I'm good to go now."

 "What changed your mind?"

Sam sighed. "After what happened with Michael, I wasn't sure if I could face someone like him again. Then I realized I can't sit here in the Bunker when we have the chance to prevent it from happening somewhere else." Sam put his bag into the trunk and fixed Dean with a determined look, "I'm ready to get out there and kick some ass."

Dean patted Sam on the shoulder, smiling proudly at him. "Sounds good to me. Do you know where we're going first?"

"I asked Cas. Apparently we're heading to a world that's got a real vampire problem," Sam replied.

"Does Chuck want us to start training slayers? Awesome! I say we get you a tweed jacket, some glasses, call you Giles and we're golden." Dean smirked at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Very funny, but you're partly right. Chuck wants us to help train more hunters, as well as establishing safe zones for civilians. When that's done, we'll start work on a Hunters Network."

Dean nodded as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. Sam knew his brother was already working on a plan. Dean would have heavily fortified camps, surrounded by vampire traps, operational in a matter of days. Then he'd get to work on training the civilians to defend themselves against vampires.

Dean hummed thoughtfully. "Ok. After we've dealt with the fang problem what happens next?"

"According to Cas, when we're finished, he'll pray to Chuck, and Chuck will send him coordinates for our next job. Sound familiar?" Sam answered with a smile.

Dean let out a bark of laughter. "Seriously? Man, the more things change, the more they stay the same." Dean's smile dimmed as he looked around the garage. "Do you think we'll ever make it back here?" He asked softly.

Sam shrugged. "I'm sure we'll be back here one day. You never know. You might find yourself a hot lady hunter on another world and finally settle down." Sam teased.

"Naw, that's not for me. Besides, who's gonna watch out for the three of you if I'm gone." Dean looked meaningfully at Sam as he patted the Impala. "Do you think I'd trust you to take care of my Baby?"

"I'm surprised you're bringing her with us. I thought you might've let her sit this one out."

Dean shook his head, "She's an important part of the team, and as long as she's with us, we'll have a roof over our heads."

Sam gave the Impala a sceptical look. "Won't it get a bit cramped in there with the four of us?"

"I admit it will be a little cosy, but as long as you lay off the refried bean burritos, we should be fine. Otherwise, I'm breaking out gas masks for me and Jack. Cas doesn't need to breathe so he should be fine." Dean smirked at the epic bitch face Sam gave him. It was time to get going.

Dean reached up to close the Impala's trunk. As he did, he said to Sam, "Come on, we've got work to do."

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