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Metropolis stinks.

Rachel's a bitch.

Jo's still doing her own thing. Jo's always doing her own thing. Dean shouldn't mind that so much.

He misses Sam.

However, there's always good food on the Cooper farm. So guess where Dean and the Impala are headed?

Wouldn't hurt to check up on that kid with the interest in demons, either.

(He left a message with the usual hunter's channels -- still in existence, even here where they don't use the term 'hunters' -- for Jo. Figures she'll tell Rach, the two of them so freakin' buddy-buddy.)

So -- eventually, somewhere between Metropolis and the Cooper farm's entrance gate -- there's a 67 Impala growling its way along the dirty roads, belting out Metallica.

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"... the ghost? Keeps hiding the books?"

Dean is trying not to smirk. But still.

"... okay, you're gonna need the basics. Rings of salt."

"I didn't know she could pick things up!" Sokka explodes, complaining loudly as he throws his arms up in the air. "She's probably hidden them in the spirit world or somewhere else impossible and it just fucking figures that my sister would find a way to be more annoying dead than she ever was alive!"

--but hey, Dean wants to help him. Helping is awesome. Dean now has Sokka's full attention again, lifted brows and wide eyes. "Uh... okay. Salt for what?"

Dean is grinning, amused by the flaily.

"Spirits can't deal with salt, or with solid iron. Least, in my world they can't. So if y' pour salt on the ground in a line, they can't cross it. Put the book inside a salt circle, or the whole house if you wanna keep her out -- or in -- and you're set."

Sokka keeps staring, giving Dean his full attention, and nods as he reaches back for a pad of paper and a pen. "Out, definitely," he says, making notes. "Penning her in didn't work when she was corporeal, I don't wanna mess with it when she can be invisible if she wants."

Dean shakes his head, bemused. And trying not to imagine what he'd do if it were Sam.

"Yeah, good point, I guess. Uh ... rock salt loaded into a shotgun, if y'wanna temporarily get rid of her. Doesn't hurt them, just -- discorporates them, takes them a while to get their bits back t'gether."

Sokka pauses in his notes and looks up at Dean, one eyebrow lifted high. "Um... let's skip that one."

No shooting his sister, please.

Dean laughs. "A'ight. Yeah. Point. Sorry, man, I'm not used t'dealing with friendly ghosts. Kinda outta my experience.

"-- speakin' of which, there's a dude headin' this way with one. Maybe you and he outta talk."

"Why, is he trying to bring his back, too?" Sokka asks, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Y'know, it's not like I expected it to be easy, but I did kinda expect there to be a surefire way to do it."

"His ain't actually dead. Just got her body stolen. If we can get her back in hers, don't see why we can't find a way t'get your sister back."

Dean's brighter-eyed than last time, more lively. A hunt, even if it's reversed -- HELPING ghosts? -- is way better than cruising for trouble in Metropolis.

Sokka grins a little, growing more excited - more hopeful. "Thank you."

It's not much but it's all he can really say right now. And another brother will understand how much it takes to say it.

Dean just nods, silent.

He gets it.

"... Might get the girls in on it. Jo's a damn good hunter, and Rach could use th'experience."

"Yeah?" Sokka looks even more hopeful and grateful for this. "They're friends of yours?"

"Yeah ... well ... sorta. Jo's her own thing, and actually, y'know, Rach is too. Not sure we're friends ... but I trust 'em."

Both of them, as weird as that should be.

Sokka's grin isn't going anywhere with that explanation, shifting to sit more comfortably and looking at the motorcycle again. "In this place, that might mean a lot more than 'friends' does. Works for me, anyway."

"You might change your tune when you meet them," Dean warns, grinning wryly. "Prickly bitches. Don't know why I like 'em so much."

Sokka just grins and shrugs, not at all bothered by this. "Hey, so long as they help, I don't care. They can be as prickly as they want. My girlfriend wants to help, too, and I'm sure my older sister will, too. If they manage not to kill each other, should be good.

"Will they mind? Your friends?"

Dean opens his mouth to say no, and then hesitates, and grins. "Well, shit, if they do, they won't come. No big deal, I can work just's well on my own. Better, probably."

He doesn't need Sam. He doesn't.

Sokka grins and asks the unfortunate question.

"You're going to bring your brother, too? He hunted with you, too, didn't he?"

Dean's face tightens.

"No," he says bluntly. "I'm not."

Sokka doesn't miss a beat.

"How soon can your friends get up here? I'll start on that salt thing but I need to find all new books. Katara stole all the ones I had."

Dean looks up again, and for a moment his expression is ridiculously grateful. Just for a moment.

"Soon. I'll bring them fruit, bribe them into it. I'll bring y'books if I find any, but see if y'can get your sister to give them back."

"I don't think fruit will work," Sokka replies dryly. There's the brief flicker of an understanding smile before he's looking at the motorcycle again. "But I'll see what I can do."

Brat of an unhelpful sister.

Dean nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets and giving Sokka a lopsided smile.

"It might. You ever been without fresh fruit for months? They'd probably do a lot more."

"Oh, I've been without fresh fruit for two and a half years," Sokka says, dismissive as he works on cleaning out the grease from the shiny chrome. "I just meant for Katara. Tempting her with fruit she can't eat won't make her any happier with me."

Dean snorts. "Yeah, point. Must kinda suck bein' dead."