Dean wasn't sure who started the fight be sure as hell was sure who ended it. Stiles stormed out of the room with one final huff of disgust at Derek and Dean could only glare at both Cas and Derek before pointing his finger at the pair of them.
“Next time you think he's weak, or can't handle it, I would like to ask you which one of you, as a goddamn human, survived what he did and came back with a grin on your face? Huh? Riddle me that, ass hats.”
He followed Stiles out of the house and got into his car. He saw Stiles at the end of the block and slowed down. Stiles looked over at him and Dean jerked his head as an indication for Stiles to get in. Stiles did and slid down in his seat.
He was silent for a long moment before finally bursting out with, “Did either of us get hurt? Did that thing even so much as raise a finger in our direction? No. You know why? You know why, Dean?”
“Because we get shit done.” Dean answered.
“Damn right we do. While those two were off chasing their own goddamn tails, in Derek's case I'm being literal, I've seen it happen, we were getting that motherfucking dragon and saving some virgin ass.”
“Goddamn right.” Dean agreed.
“And then they tell us we should have waited? Waited for what? For Cas to power up again? For the full moon to come around for Derek? Yeah, sorry, but when we started doing all this,” Stiles waved his hand around to indicate Dean, the car and the world in general, “The pact was to save lives? Right? That's what Sam said you guys said.”
“Saving lives. Hunting things.” Dean provided.
“And that's what we did! And I get scolded like- like-” Stiles fumbled for his words.
“Like a child.” Dean supplied, pulling into a bar. Stiles couldn't even find it in him to be surprised. He hoped someone started a fight with them tonight. They both got out of the car and faced each other across the hood of the car. Dean raised a finger at Stiles. “But you know what? You aren't a kid. You haven't been since Scott got bit. You manned the fuck up and you and me? We made a good fucking team out there. And we saved those girls and if that's a problem?” Dean spread his arms out and raised his eyebrows, “Then it's their problem and they can fucking deal with it themselves.”
“Damn right.” Stiles agreed.
Dean headed for the bar entrance and Stiles followed after him. As they dropped themselves into the barstools the bartender made a beeline for them both.
“Dean, I can't serve the Sheriff's kid. He's only like, fifteen.”
“I'm twenty.” Stiles growled.
“And he just magicked the fuck out of a dragon and helped me kill it, Larry. I think he earned his drink for the night.” Dean replied.
The bartender narrowed his eyes at Stiles who narrowed his own right back.
“Whiskey or tequila, kid?”
Stiles bristled at the word.
“We'll take the whiskey. Leave the bottle.” Dean ordered.
Larry did as he was asked and brought them a basket of fries awhile later.
Stiles felt that maybe twelve shots was a little much. He also pondered the intelligence of drinking with a Winchester.
“You don't drink with a Winchester.” Dean said and Stiles realized he was speaking out loud. “You try to keep up with a Winchester.”
“I'm the Lose-chester in this situation.” Stiles said.
The two regarded each other for a very long, grim moment.
Then they started laughing. Stiles had to lean against the bar and wiped his face on his shirt.
Larry dropped two burgers off in front of them and shook his head at them. “Where's Sam?” He finally asked.
That incurred more laughter before Dean could get a hold of himself. “He had a date.” He whispered.
“A date.” Larry repeated flatly.
“Yeah. This dude.” Dean pointed at Stiles who sat up straight and puffed his chest out proudly. “Introduced Sam to his best friend.”
“The True Alpha.” Larry said.
Dean snapped his fingers and made a gun out of his hand. “Got it one, Larry. You are goddamn genius. Anyway. This dude introduces Sam to Scott. Scott, Stiles, Sam-”
“Too many S's, man.” Stiles said as he slid off his seat and stumbled before finding the ground and going to the bathroom.
“We all go to the hospital to check out the bodies right?” Dean continues.
“But no one told us that they have the hookup at the hospital and we can just walk in and talk to Scott's mom.” Dean said. He wondered if his words were slurring. Stiles returned to his spot a moment later when Larry stepped away to serve drinks and back to their story.
“You should have seen Sam, Larry.” Stiles said.
Dean poured them both another shot. “Sam- oh god. My poor little brother, Larry.”
“He tripped over a cord and knocked over a table with an 68 year old dead dude on it.” Dean said. Stiles and Dean were positively howling with laughter and if Dean hadn't been Dean, Larry was sure that there would have been a fight. “And he tried to pick it up, and explain to Scott's mom who he was and what we were doing-” Dean was sobbing at this point, waving his hands around, “Stop, I can't breathe!” He pushed Stiles' face away, “Don't look at me!”
Stiles fell off his stool and sat on the ground and laughed with his head between his knees.
“I don't know how, but he walked away with a date.” Dean said and helped Stiles up. “And now, I have a Nightwing to my Batman.”
They tried to fist bump and finally got it right after the third try.
Larry had his head bowed and was shaking with laughter. “Don't take this as an insult, Dean. But I think that you should probably call it a night.”
Dean studied Larry before nodding. “I think you are right, Larry. Nightwing and I will take our check and be on our way.”
“It's been taken care of.” Larry said.
“Can I take my burger?” Stiles asked, eyeing the basket in front of him.
Larry waved them off and Dean put his own burger in the basket for Stiles to take and they left the bar. They stood in front of the Impala and Stiles took a bite of his burger from the basket.
“I don't think we should drive.” Stiles said.
“No. No, no, no, no. I've rebuilt her once, don't feel like doing it again.” Dean said.
They set off on foot, heading back the way they came. Stiles munched on his burger and hummed the old Batman song, occasionally bursting out with a, “Bat-MAN!”
Dean joined in.
That's how Deputy Hale found them.
Stiles was pretending to be an airplane, zooming across the empty road while Dean sang out AC/DC. Derek turned on his lights and stepped out of his patrol car.
“It's a bird! It's a plane!” Dean shouted out into the night sky.
“No, it's just the Fur-less Wonder.” Stiles said.
Dean felt that, at this point, he should probably be an adult but that joke was too good. He sat down on the curb and laughed some more.
“Get in the car.” Derek growled.
“Fur-less!” Dean laughed and pointed at Derek.
Stiles sat down next to Dean and handed him his red plastic basket. Derek walked over to them but before he could reach them, Stiles leapt to his feet and Dean was impressed at his ability to do so under the circumstances. Dean put the red basket on his head while he struggled to his feet.
“Listen here. Bro. Officer. Officer Bro. Bro-fficer.” Stiles said, poking Derek in the chest with his burger. Dean giggled. “I had a good time tonight with a friend that considers me an asset instead of a liability. And if you are here to get all growly and angry, you can step off and go right on your way-” Stiles flung his hand in the direction of the patrol car and Dean watched, in slow motion, as the patty that was layered with three different kinds of cheese, tomato, mustard, mayo, pickles, and ketchup land squarely in the middle of the patrol car's windshield.
“I couldn't have planned that better.” Dean remarked, watching the patty's slow descent, leaving behind a sticky trail of condiments.
Cas appeared at Stiles' side and he screamed, jerked the red basket off Dean's head and flung it at Cas' head. Cas blinked when it smacked him in the face and sighed heavily, as if being struck in the face with a greasy, red plastic basket by a spastic twenty year old of questionable dating taste was an everyday, if annoying, occurrence.
He strode to the two of them, raised a hand to each of their heads, and sobered them up.
“Ugh.” Stiles said, frowning. “That's shitty. I was having a good time.”
Dean glared at Cas. Cas disappeared with his own glare and Derek climbed back into his patrol car. He pulled away from the two of them without a backwards glance.
“Rude.” Dean muttered and looked around. “Where the hell are we?”
Stiles looked around. “About three miles away from my house.”
When Dean and Sam left a few days later, Dean pulled Stiles into a crushing hug. “Keep saving people, Nightwing.”
“I will, Batman.”