Hunter

Chapter 20

AN: Harry changed his name to Gabriel Winchester Evans in order to avoid anyone figuring out he was alive. He goes by Bree in order to avoid confusing him with his father.

"No and hell no," said Dean.

"You have two options. One, you either get all of this out now or two, we let you two idjits hunt in the psycho ward. Frankly with how much you two morons hold in, it cant be healthy," said Bree flatly.

Dean had taken to calling Gabriel 'Bree' because it was still easy to confuse the two otherwise. Loki had taken up that nickname and now they were all calling him 'Bree', which he complained made him sound like some sort of cheese.

One of the older hunters who had 'retired' had called in a hunt in a psychiatric hospital. Sam and Dean had offered to take the case, but Bree had other ideas.

Namely letting the Winchester brothers vent for once so that they could at least go back to a more functional relationship.

With how much hunters held in thanks to all the crap they've seen, they needed someone to vent to who wouldn't diagnose them as insane or take away their guns.

Bree was currently breezing through medical books in order to help them out. If he could get a legal certificate claiming he was a doctor, then chances were that he could keep them from being locked up.

Besides, he was bored out of his mind.

"I'll toss you then. Heads we vent to you about all the crap we've been through, tails we go on this hunt," said Dean.

"Jesse, can you bring us a galleon from my pouch?"

Dean gave him a look.

"Galleons are spelled so we can be sure neither of us can cheat with a double-sided coin," shrugged Bree.

"Fair enough. Tails," said Dean, hoping he could just go on the hunt.

Bree tossed it up and let it fall on the ground.

"Ooh, sorry Dean. It's heads. Why don't we have you go first?" said Bree far too eagerly.

"Dammit..."

~

Dean sat down in the chair. Bree was going to give him a silver time-turner (unlike the gold ones, it went back days instead of hours) later, but they needed to do this now.

"So what, do I just describe my feelings to you?" asked Dean.

"No, how about you tell me how this all started and how you've dealt with all the hard decisions you've made. You can even talk about hell and get that out, since we've both been there already," said Bree.

"Why don't you read those damn books?" bitched Dean. He didn't want to be here, and they both knew it.

"Start talking or I swear to God I will have dad prank the ever-living shit out of you once you leave," said Bree flatly, "Or do you want a repeat of the Mystery Spot?"

Dean winced. Gabriel had killed him in so many inventive ways, one of which he never spoke of to his brother because he was embarrassed that it had happened. (Tentacle death...do I really need to explain more?)

Bree sighed, then pulled out his best weapon.

"Here...drink this. You can claim I got you two morons drunk to start talking."

It was a bottle of the best whiskey on the market. Dean grabbed it without hesitation.

Four shots in, and he started spilling everything. It wasn't like Bree cared about how insane he sounded, and the man in front of him knew how a hunter worked better than any shrink ever could.