Fireflies at Midnight

Chapter 4: Crossed Signals

Neal had no difficulty in falling asleep despite the ghost stories Sam told. The one about someone called Bloody Mary was particularly incredible. Neal hadn't considered spirits could be real until he met the Winchesters. He wondered if his world seemed equally alien to them.

Peter arrived at seven the next morning while he was having breakfast. Peter was already in a state of high anxiety about the incoming horde of campers. They were due to be bused in at nine. Peter grabbed Travis and Mozzie to discuss the schedule for the morning while Neal and Sam took a walk outside to become familiar with the layout.

Dean called Sam shortly before the kids arrived with an update from Bobby. The other hunters in the area hadn't found any evidence of activity so until they had more to go on, there wasn't much Dean and Sam could do except keep themselves available. That meant plenty of time to help out with camp.

There were sixty-five kids, ranging in age from six to sixteen. The workshops were divided into three sections with Peter in charge of the most advanced ones, Travis handling the intermediates, and Mozzie the beginners. Neal and Sam were floaters. They along with Dean would handle the midmorning break, freeing the others to prepare for the second round of workshops.

Neal and Sam were getting out equipment when the Impala pulled up in front of the observatory. Dean took one look at them in their astro camp t-shirts and laughed in their faces. That is, until Sam tossed him one to put on

"Not happening," Dean scoffed. "Dude, I don't wear patterned t-shirts."

"It's a small gesture for the expert IDs you're getting," Neal countered. "Do you know how much they're worth on the black market?"

"Are those your handiwork?" he asked.

"Hypothetically speaking, it's conceivable Mozzie may have called upon an expert for assistance." Dean and Sam knew next to nothing about Neal's less-than-legal skills and he didn't mind cracking the door open. From the appraising look he got from Dean, he was glad he had. They had more in common than Dean realized.

"I have my shirt on," Sam pointed out. "Even Satchmo's wearing an astronomy kerchief. It won't kill you. Besides, I like the message. It's a good one for us."

The t-shirts were black with the silhouette of a person against a field of stars. The message was Life is looking up. Peter had selected the design. They worked well for adults, and everyone could benefit from an upbeat attitude.

"You should be grateful we're not asking you to wear space antennae like the ones Mozzie has on," Neal added.

"You're joking, right?" Dean turned to Sam for confirmation.

Sam shook his head, grinning. "He's had them on all morning."

Neal adopted Peter's lay-down-the-law tone. "Here's the drill. In five minutes, the kids will be turned loose. Our objective is to wear them out so they'll sit quietly for the next session." He led them over to a grassy area next to the main building. "We're dividing them into two groups based on age. I brought along foam fencing swords and masks to hold a mini-fencing camp and we also have space activities."

"So you weren't conning us about the blades?" Dean asked.

"Nope, I'm on a university team."

Dean dismissed Neal's fencing experience with a shrug. "You wear padded clothes, your swords have protective tips, and you use facemasks."

"Exactly. It's a sport, not carnage. I realize that's not your style."

Sam was looking through a list of activities while the two of them debated. "Here's one for you, Dean," he said. "Asteroid smash."