DellaVie

"Hey kid - Regulus - stop!"

Of course this only prompted him to run faster. After spending years hunting down wolves, spirits and the occasional black dog, ten year olds were surprisingly easy. Dean caught up to him in less than a minute. Just in time, it seemed, as Regulus was about to mount the broom and take to the air.

Dean snatched a handful of clothes and yanked. Regulus' lanky frame stumbled backwards, but Dean caught him before he could fall. When he made sure the kid was steady, Dean noticed he had a stick pointed at him. Probably a wand or some shit, Dean surmised, recalling the man who used one to erect his tent.

Not wanting to fight, Dean opted to bluff instead. Levelling his most intimidating glare, he spoke in a low voice, "Don't even try it."

Frightened, Regulus' grip wavered. Dean held his stare and raised an eyebrow in challenge until the boy surrendered, lowering the piece of wood to point at the ground.

Dean relaxed his grip, but didn't let go. He didn't want the kid running off before he said his peace, not after going to all that effort to chase him down. "Look, kid, is it really that bad being a beater?"

Regulus shook his head.

"Then what are you ashamed of, huh?"

The accusing stare was back. "You're just like him."

"Just like who?"

Regulus' eyes narrowed. "You just pull mean jokes on people and expect them to forget about it when you want them to. You're a jerk."

"Woah, hey," Dean let go of Regulus and raised his hands in surrender. The words were hitting a little close to his teenage years. "Look, no one cares that you called out like that. Those people have probably already forgotten about it. Besides, even if they do remember, you said it yourself; there's nothing wrong with being a beater. Now either you weren't telling me the truth about that, or you're just getting girly - overreacting," he quickly amended, "over something small."

Regulus shook his head. "You don't get it."

It was at this point that Dean decided he needed to know what the hell a beater was. "Do you want to be a beater, yes or no?"

Regulus petulantly looked down at his feet. Dean grabbed his shoulder insistently,

"Yes or no?"

"Yes," He mumbled.

"Then why do you care whether random strangers know it?"

"Because I'm no good at it."

Dean winced inwardly as he realised he'd somehow wormed himself into a chick-flick moment. He sighed. No way but through...

"I got a brother too, you know. We go hunting together.

"Thing is, when we started, he was terrible at it. Which is strange, because Sammy usually gets everything first try. But my Dad an I took him out, and he couldn't hit a thing, his aim was so bad."

Not feeling cheered up in the least, Regulus pouted. "So."

"So, my point is that he practiced at it. Every day. Now he's got damn near perfect aim. You keep at it and you'll get there too."

There was a silence after that as Regulus considered his words. When he was done he gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

Dean smiled gratefully and clapped him on the back. "Good, now let's talk about something else, okay?"

They resumed walking, Dean keeping stride but letting the shorter boy lead. After a minute, Regulus spoke, "What do you hunt?"

"Huh?"

"You said you and your brother hunt. What do you hunt? Like Knarls and stuff?"

"Uhh," Dean struggled to think of something that a witch - or witch-boy... warlock? - wouldn't take offense to him hunting. All he come up with was something already dead. "Zombies."

"What's a zombies?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" Even civvies know about zombies. Well, of them at least. "They're dead, but they move around. Living dead."

Regulus formed an 'O' of understanding. "You mean inferi?"

Dean was about to reply that he didn't know what the hell Regulus was talking about when he remembered the research his father had made him do on his first zombie hunt. The word inferi had come up in one of the texts. Though he didn't have Sam to confirm, he figured he was close enough. "Yeah, we just have a different name for them in the states, I guess."

Regulus' eyes lit up. "That is so cool! Could you teach me how to hunt them?"

Dean was saved from replying when a voice called out Regulus' name. They turned to see a slightly older teen heading their way. Regulus' shoulders slumped.

When he approached, Dean noted the similar features and deduced that he was the brother Regulus had mentioned. "Where have you been? Mother's been ready to leave for an hour now. And father's not too happy with you either." He finally noticed Dean and nodded. " 'Lo."

Dean nodded in reply. "Hey."

Sirius cocked his head to the side, much like Regulus had. "Yank?"

Dean mocked him, "Brit?"

He smiled and held out a hand. "Sirius."

A sarcastic reply was on the tip of Dean's tongue when he noticed the outstretched hand. His gaze switched between the brothers before he realised that it was possible bizarre names ran in the family. He shook it. "Dean."

They both let go and Dean waited for Sirius to make the next move. For a person who scolded his brother on tardiness, he seemed in no rush to get back. "How about that match, eh?"

Dean looked to Regulus, who blinked back innocently. "Riveting," was all Dean could come up with.

Obviously this wasn't the right answer as Sirius frowned. "It didn't even last an hour."

A slight sniggering to his left drew Dean's attention down to Regulus' smiling form. "Thanks a lot, kid."

"No problem."

Dean scuffed him playfully on the ear before giving him a gentle shove. "You better head back, wouldn't want her to come looking for you and find Ole' Hitching's stall all destroyed."

"You destroyed Hitching's stall?" Sirius asked. "Wait, who's Hitchings?"

Regulus let out a snicker as he waved to Dean. "Thanks."

"Later," Dean nodded.

Sirius lingered, halting Regulus departure. "I apologise for my brother," he said solemnly. "We try to keep him locked up, but every now and then the cage needs cleaning, so..." He shrugged as if to say what are ya gonna do?

Regulus ducked his head again at the words, not game to meet Dean's eye.

"I dunno, he seems alright. People are talking about how he's gonna be a kickass beater one day."

The way Sirius laughed suggested he highly doubted it. "Beater, that's a good one." He slung an arm around his brothers' shoulders. "Anyway, must dash. Nice meeting you. You're alright for a yank."

"There's nothing I like to hear more," Dean deadpanned.

Sirius let out another bark of laughter as he gave his brother a slight shove in the direction of their tent. "Come on, Reg."

Dean watched as the brothers walked off, waiting until Regulus looked back. When he did, Dean shook his head as though to discredit what his brother had said, and gave him one last wink of encouragement.

"Oh, hey!" Dean called out, suddenly remembering his situation. The boys turned around. "You haven't happened to have seen a guy about this tall-" He raised his hand as an indicator, "-with brown hair and big ole' puppy dog eyes wandering around, have you?"

Regulus' brow furrowed. "Why does he have dog eyes?"

"It's an expression."

"Oh. No, I haven't seen him."

Sirius shrugged. "No, but the officials set up a lost and found, you could try there. It's out front of the pitch."

"Right, thanks." Dean looked to Regulus, who tilted his head in the direction of the pitch before turning around and following his brother.

Having successfully conversed with three different witch-people (really need confirmation on that), Dean casually strolled to the pitch in hopes of finding his brother, confident that he wouldn't be found out and turned into a toad.

He was right on the second part.