Fourth of July

"I think Lucas would love that," Andrea Barr said with a wide smile. "He's really into race cars these days and a trip to Nascar would just make his year."

"I'll definitely look into bringing him along with us then," Fred Burkit replied. "Tyler and Adam will be thrilled. It'll be a weekend trip, so if you get bored you can go over to the house. Greta will be there."

"Actually, there are some things I should get done," she said, letting out a long sigh. "I've been meaning to clean out the shed. I think a couple raccoons already consider it home and I don't want it to become a hotel."

Fred chuckled slightly. "Alright then." He took another drink of his soda before he looked around the Fourth of July party. "Wonder where Greta got to?"

"You go find her," Andrea told him, waving him off as she got up to throw out her plate. "I should go play hostess. And it's getting dark, so the kids will want to use the sparklers soon."

Fred nodded. "Sounds good."

Andrea tossed her paper plate and plastic cup into the trash bin before heading toward two women talking over on the porch bench. She altered her course, however, when she heard the phone inside ring. She went into the house, sliding to the side as two girls went racing past her, and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

There was a pause. "Hi, ah, Andrea?"

Andrea narrowed her eyes slightly. "Ah, yes. Can I ask who this is?"

"It's Sam Winchester. From a few years back? Do you remember?"

Andrea's mouth opened in surprise and she blinked.

I heard this voice….

It said come play with me….

You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that….

A smile slid across Andrea's face. "Sam! Wow! Of course I remember!" Her eyes narrowed abruptly. "Is something wrong?"

"I-I know I haven't…talked to you in so long but actually I was hoping I could ask a favor," Sam said with an audible cringe.

"Of course, Sam," she told him, worry creasing her face.

"We're in Two Creeks right now. Dean and I aren't in great shape and since we're close it would really help us out if we could crash at your place for the night."

Andrea's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"It's just…you know, our job." Andrea swallowed and nodded slowly. "We're about twenty minutes out. Is that okay?" Sam asked.

Andrea blinked and briefly looked around the kitchen and out the window into the backyard. "Yea, sure, twenty minutes," she responded. "See you soon."

"Thanks."

Sam hung up and Andrea hung up the phone and went out into the backyard, turning off the radio, drawing some eyes. "Excuse me, everyone?" she called out, drawing the rest of their gazes. "I'm terribly sorry, but I have a family emergency that I need to take care of. It's nothing horrible, but we're going to have to cut this a little short, or at least move it to Greta's house," she said, smiling at the woman a few feet from her.

00000

"What do you mean, they're staying here?" Lucas asked, surprised, as he hastily cleaned up the kitchen.

"I'm not sure what it is," Andrea told her son. "I just know that they're in trouble, possibly hurt, and they called for help."

"Well since their job includes diving into haunted lakes, it's probably safe to assume they're hurt if they're asking for help," Lucas replied.

Andrea gave him a half smile. "True. Okay, please finish up cleaning the kitchen and then move onto the backyard. I'm going to start on the living room."

Lucas gave his mother a mock salute before tying a garbage bag closed and taking the dishes on the counter, putting them in the sink.

It was about ten minutes later that Andrea heard the doorbell ring. She hurriedly went to the door, swinging it up, and froze, a gasp catching in her throat. "Oh my God!" she cried at the blood soaking into the boys' shirts and pants. Her eyes went up and down Dean's body, which appeared to have taken most of the damage.

"'M okay," Dean muttered, his arm slung over Sam's shoulders.

"Is there somewhere he can lay down?" Sam asked. "And we're gonna need a couple garbage bags to put down first. It won't save all the sheets, but at least the mattress."

"Sure, sure, ah…guest room, down the hall there, to-to the left," Andrea stammered. "I'll get the garbage bags."

"Oh cripes, did we interrupt some sort of party?" Sam asked, glancing around at the decorations, limping with Dean down the hall.

"Please, Sam, if this doesn't count as an emergency I don't know what does," she shot back at him, getting the box of plastic garbage bags from the cabinet. "I suppose you considered and dismissed a hospital as a possibility?"

"I can take care of this," Sam told her. "And we don't have insurance anyway."

Footsteps came around the corner and Lucas stumbled to a halt, staring at Sam and Dean, as his mother came out of the kitchen. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

"Watch your language," Andrea snapped instinctively, going quickly in front of the boys to get to the guest room first and put down the bags.

Sam then carefully laid Dean down on the bed, sitting down beside his brother and examining his expression. "You going dark?"

"Nah, just fuzzy," Dean murmured.

"How can I help?" Andrea asked quickly.

"Ah…some warm water and towels?" Sam asked wearily, starting to stand back up. "I need to get the first aid kit from the car—."

"Don't you even," she told him, putting a firm hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him back down to the bed. "Where is it?" she asked, taking the keys from his hands and handing them to Lucas.

Sam blinked. "Um…back seat."

"I'll get the towels," Andrea said with a nod, motioning to Lucas to go to the Impala.

Once they'd left, Sam turned back to his brother. "Okay, help me out," he muttered. "We gotta get these clothes off you."

"Awesome."

Over the next few minutes, Sam managed to get Dean out of his jacket and shirt, revealing gashes down his chest, and out of his pants. "You're seriously gonna do this when I can have Florence Nightingale instead?" Dean murmured.

"I'm not gonna have Andrea give you stitches," Sam shot back at him. Dean grunted in annoyance as Lucas walked in with the first aid kit.

"You guys look like crap," Lucas stated, handing over to kit to Sam.

Dean snorted as Sam put the kit on the bed and opened it up. "Nice to see you too."

"What happened?" the boy asked, his eyes wide in anticipation, obviously eager to hear a horror story.

"Ah…Sammy pissed off this stray cat," Dean mumbled. "Nasty little bugger."

Lucas rolled his eyes.

A few seconds later, Andrea walked in with a pot of water and several towels under her arm. "Thanks," Sam said quietly as she put it on the floor.

"Jesus," Andrea breathed, staring at the blood seeping from Dean's chest.

"Andrea, please, not in front of your son," Dean said tiredly. Sam let out an exasperated sigh as he washed and dried his hands before he put on a pair of gloves and started to soak one of the towels in the water.

Andrea's expression grew dry as she let out a small smile. "Nice to know you haven't changed."

"Oh, I'll have you know I've matured immense—ah-ah…owwww…" he growled, gnashing his teeth together as Sam started to wipe at the blood.

Andrea hissed in a sharp breath. "Lucas, go to the kitchen."

"But—."

"Now," she insisted. With an exaggerated sigh and a roll of his eyes, Lucas dragged his feet as he left the room. Andrea turned back to Dean, pursing her lips in concern. "Once you cleaned Dean up, I'll help you out, okay Sam?" she asked, looking at the lacerations on his face.

"Nah, it's fine," Sam murmured absently, continuing to wipe away blood. "It's not anything that needs stitches."

"You look exhausted," Andrea asked softly. "Make a mother feel better. Let me help."

Sam let out a quiet breath as he soaked the towel in the water again and wrung it out before nodding, sparing a glance toward her. "Yea. Okay."

00000

"Seriously? That's the story you're sticking to?" Lucas asked, glaring at Dean.

"Kid, don't make me pull the injured/tired card, cause I will do it," Dean told him through half-lidded eyes.

Lucas sighed. "Fine."

"Tell me about you. How's school been going for you? You just finished, what—?"

"Sixth grade. Not much going on there though. Same old, same old."

"Come on, I'm sure you've got something more than that," Dean said. "Some…great grade you got in a genius class or…some hot chick crushing on you."

Lucas smiled. "Nah. Average grades. And girls…." His voice trailed off.

"Not into that kind of stuff yet, huh?"

"Not really." Lucas paused. "So you want to tell me about this mile-long police record you've got, Mister Corleone?"

Dean narrowed his eyes and paused. "Did you just…compare me to Marlon Brando?" he grunted, with a lack of anything else to say.

"I saw The Godfather again yesterday," Lucas said with a shrug. "You're avoiding the question."

"What makes you think I've got a record?"

"The FBI came around like a year ago," he told him. "Two guys in suits, one black guy, one white guy, come in flashing their badges like they're in some movie, acting like you're some big time crime boss. They were following up on some credit card fraud?"

Dean groaned. "Oh don't tell me they bugged you guys…."

Lucas snorted. "Hardly. Mom didn't put up with it."

"What? What'd she do?" Dean asked, genuinely interested.

Lucas thought back. "She said something like…Sam and Dean Winchester are two of the most incredible…kind-hearted young men I have ever met," Lucas said, looking away as he thought back to the words, "and if you had an ounce of self-respect…you would consider the possibility that they help people…instead of trying to put them in prison," he finished, looking back to Dean.

Dean stared at him for a long moment. "She really said that?" he murmured.

Lucas narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What'd you think she'd do?" he asked. "Tell them you hunt ghosts?"

Dean pursed his lips. "They say anything else?" he asked. "Elaborate on this…mile-long record of mine?"

"Well yea," Lucas said with another shrug. "Once they realized my mom actually knew you, they tried to back their case. Bank robbery, kidnapping, murder…. God, you'd think they were talking about Hannibal Lecter. What did you do to piss them off so much?"

"Escaped from their custody," Dean murmured.

"Oh."

"Twice."

"Ouch," Lucas remarked.

"Listen, ah…I'm sorry that those guys came around here," Dean told him quietly. "I'm sure it brought up a lot of bad memories—."

"Are you kidding?" Lucas asked suddenly. Dean blinked. "Man, I got to smart-mouth some real FBI agents. That was totally awesome."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You smart-mouthed them? What'd you say?"

Lucas shifted in his seat. "Just…don't tell mom…."

"Hey, scouts honor."

"Well, mom went into the kitchen for a second to get them coffee, because she's so nice like that," Lucas said with a roll of his eyes, "and they asked me if I'd spoken to you in the last couple years. And they were acting like I was some stupid clueless four-year-old. So I said no. They asked me if I was sure, because I could get in trouble if I was helping a fugitive."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Dean muttered.

"So I asked them if they knew that interrogating a minor without a parent present was against the law, and I told them that they were just suits on a power trip and if they threatened me and mom again I'd sue the FBI into the ground."

Dean burst out laughing, and then cringed, sliding his hand over his chest. "Oh-ho…oh…don't make me laugh," he said. "If I pop my stitches Sammy'll be pissed."

Lucas smiled. "Sorry."

"Dude, you really said all that?"

"Come on, I watch Law and Order," he replied with another roll of his eyes.

"You know you do that enough your eyes will roll right outta your head," Dean told him.

Lucas smiled. "Besides, you told me to take care of my mom, right? She doesn't watch as much Law and Order as I do. So I was taking care of her."

Dean nodded slowly, giving the boy a small smile. "Yea. You were. You're a Hell of a kid, you know that?"

Lucas grinned. "I know."

Just then, there was an echoing boom from outside, causing Dean to narrow his eyes. Lucas's eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. "The fireworks!" he exclaimed, dashing to the window.

"Fireworks?" Dean asked in confusion as Lucas quickly pulled aside the curtains.

"Yea, I lost track of the time," he replied, pulling up the window and letting in the night air. "They start at nine." Lucas looked back to Dean. "We always have fireworks over the lake."

Dean blinked. "Wait…it's the Fourth of July?"

Lucas stared at him. "Yea…. You didn't know?"

"Not really my top priority, buddy," Dean replied.

"Oh. Well you should be able to see them from there," Lucas told him, turning off the lights in the room. "The rest should start any second." The young boy repositioned his chair so he could see out the window also and not block Dean's view. He was silent for a long moment before he turned back to him. "Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Is it…lonely?" Lucas asked quietly. "Doing what you do? And like…not having somewhere to go for…a barbecue and fireworks?"

"Kinda. But then I get to hang out with really cool kids who smart-mouth the FBI and compare me to Marlon Brando," Dean replied.

Lucas grinned, satisfied with the answer, and turned back to the window, settling into his chair as the fireworks echoed across the sky.

00000

"You know," Andrea started quietly as she put a butterfly bandage over a laceration on Sam's face, listening to the fireworks outside, "the shock of seeing Dean wasn't just the injuries he'd gotten tonight. Once you'd gotten most of the blood cleaned off—."

"We've been doing this our whole lives," Sam stated softly, shifting in his seat at the kitchen table. "The scars just add up."

Andrea hesitated for a moment before she picked up a plastic Ziploc bag with ice in it, handing it to Sam for him to put on his face. "Your whole lives. You mean you were started in it when you were just kids."

Sam sighed. "It wasn't really a choice we could make."

"Your parents made it for you?"

Sam tensed. "No. I mean…it wasn't a choice any of us could make. It was made for us. It's made for any hunter." He paused. "It's complicated."

"I would think so," she murmured, packing some more ice into plastic bags. "I'm in awe of what you do. Really, I am." Sam remained silent, staring at the ground, and swallowed hard. "You came here in 2005 knowing that something was going on, figured out exactly what you needed to do to stop it, and you succeeded. With everyone around you contradicting what you knew was the truth. Law enforcement. Civilians. You risk your safety, your lives, for people you don't even know. It's incredible." Andrea paused. "I just wanted to say that."

"Thanks," Sam said somewhat awkwardly.

"Alright. Keep ice on your face and on that shoulder," Andrea told him, standing up. "There's a blow up bed and pump in the guest room closet. You can set it up next to Dean's. And you'll probably have to kick Lucas out if he's ever going to go to bed."

"Yea, sure," Sam replied with a smile.

"I'm gonna get Dean some water. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Sam blinked and paused, looking around as he thought. "Ah…yea," he replied with a nod, standing up. "Water would be great. I'm gonna take the garbage bag of sheets and stuff out to the bin. And please let me do it," Sam added with a smile. "Is the bin in the garage?"

Andrea smiled in reply and nodded. "Yes, thanks. And before you say anything," she continued, right before Sam spoke, "they were sacrificed for a good cause."

00000

Andrea glanced in the direction of the front door when she heard the knock, flipping the pancake. "Lucas, can you see who that is?" she asked. "I don't want this to burn."

Lucas nodded, turning the television on the kitchen counter on mute. He got up and went to the front door. "Who is it?"

"Sheriff Santini," replied the voice.

Lucas opened the door with a smile. "Hey! You see last night's fireworks!"

The man nodded. "Sure did. Pretty great stuff. Is your mom here? I'm actually here on official police business."

With a blink, Lucas paused. "She's making pancakes. What's going on?"

"You want to tell me who the car in your driveway belongs to?" Sheriff Santini asked, cocking a thumb toward the vehicle.

"Friends of the family," Lucas replied easily. "They're visiting. Why?"

"You think I could come in to talk to your mom?" he asked.

"If this is police business, I'm sorry, but not unless you have a warrant," Lucas told him.

Sheriff Santini stared in surprise at Lucas for a long moment as Andrea walked quickly up behind her son. "Lucas that is quite enough. Do me a favor and go set the table for us, will you?" she asked, putting a hand on her son's shoulder and gently pushing him toward the kitchen.

Lucas glanced at her with pursed lips before he walked off.

"Sorry, he watches way too much television," Andrea replied with a smile, coming out onto the porch and letting the screen door swing shut. "Is Amy the same way?"

The sheriff smiled back at her. "Yes ma'am. Especially cause her daddy's sheriff. Good mornin' to you, Andrea. Hope you had a good Fourth of July."

"I did, thanks."

His expression tightened a bit. "I need to talk to you about the car in your driveway."

Andrea's eyebrows rose slightly. "Sam and Dean's car? What about it?"

"Sam and Dean?" he asked. "Those the family friends that came into town?"

"Yea, they're still sleeping. It is ten, but they had a rough night," she said with a cringe.

"The license plate was caught by a traffic light camera in Two Creeks last night," Sheriff Santini told her. "Ran a red light."

"Oh dear," Andrea said with a sigh.

"The thing is…a young man was found dead today in Two Creeks," the sheriff said, his voice low. "Shot twice in the chest. And it looks like he was killed some time last night. Now I saw some blood in the car and I don't have to tell you that doesn't look too good for them."

Andrea's jaw had dropped slightly as she listened to him. "Oh my…. You can't possibly think that these two boys had anything to—."

"Now I'm not sayin' that," he told her, "but I am sayin' that I had word sent from the sheriff over there that they were lookin' for the car. When I found it in your driveway and it looked like that, I came up to talk to you."

"Well I'm very grateful that you didn't waste their time, because I can eliminate them as suspects right off the bat," she told him.

The sheriff looked shocked. "You can?"

"Of course. The reason they came to stay with us last night was because Dean was attacked," Andrea told him earnestly. "The blood in that car is all his. They were in some woods about…a hundred miles or so from here deer hunting and they were attacked by a mountain lion. Sam took a tumble down a hill and Dean got the brunt of its claws before Sam managed to shoot it. They'll be making an official report with the authorities, of course, but they weren't in any condition to do it last night. They were so far from a hospital that Sam had to provide medical care for Dean and give him stitches there and that's why they came to stay with me. And we were having a party last night and that's why I had to cut it short."

"Well then," he breathed, his eyes wide. "I'm mighty glad you aren't wrapped up in all this business. But I'm sure I don't have to tell you—."

"You need to see, I wouldn't send you back to the station with anything less," Andrea said with a gentle smile. "Please come on in. Lucas?" she called to the kitchen.

Lucas paused, hoping to make it seem like he hadn't been at the kitchen doorway listening, before he came out. "Yea?"

"I'll be right back. You can put two pancakes, butter, and syrup on the trays for Sam and Dean," she told him.

"Sure mom," he replied before turning and going back.

"They're probably exhausted after all that last night, but they are growing young men so I knew they'd be hungry," Andrea said to the sheriff with a smile as she went down the hall.

Sheriff Santini nodded in reply. "I know I was at that age."

Andrea knocked on the door twice. "Sam, Dean?" she asked, opening it. The two raised their heads from their pillows as she peeked in. "You two decent?"

"Yea, sorry, we're late sleepers," Sam replied.

"Oh God, after last night I don't blame you. And I wouldn't have woken you but running a red light last night put you on a security camera and with the blood in the car…the sheriff needed to confirm your alibi for this…murder," Andrea told Sam with an 'oh how horrible is this' grimace before opening the door all the way and letting the sheriff step with her into the room.

Though they immediately caught on to the don't-panic-at-the-cop drift, Sam and Dean were still unsure. "Murder?" Sam asked, his eyes wide, not having to fain confusion.

"A young man was killed last night," the sheriff told them tightly. "Since a traffic camera caught a license plate of an unknown vehicle, an APB was put out and I did some scouting. Found it here."

"I didn't want to have to wake you," Andrea told him, "but Sheriff Santini needed to see Dean's scars from the mountain lion."

Sam nodded in agreement of everything she said, without hesitation, as he stood up and grabbed a t-shirt from his duffle. "Sure. And don't be scared of all the other scars he's got to keep them company," Sam added to the sheriff as Dean pulled the sheets off of himself. "Made his career as a crash-test dummy for a while."

"Hey, motorcycle stunt rider," Dean enunciated carefully, peeling back the bandages over his stitches. "It had an official title."

"Damn," the sheriff muttered, staring at the claw gashes. "She said Sam took care of that on site. Where'd you learn to do stitches like that, son?" he asked, turning to Sam.

"Middle East," Sam replied with a tight smile.

The sheriff let out a stunned breath. "Wow. Alright, well I hope I didn't ruin your morning."

"Oh not at all," Andrea assured him. "You can stay for pancakes if you'd like."

"I better get going actually," he said, walking with her out into the hall. "Report back that the car is a dead end."

"Okay then. Well you tell Marie and Amy I say hello," she said as she walked him to the door.

"Will do. You folks have a good one."

"You too, Sheriff." Andrea waved goodbye as he went out to his car and watched as he drove off. She closed and locked the door behind herself before going back to the guest bedroom, where Lucas was already giving a tray of pancakes and condiments to a stunned Sam.

"You should've heard her," Lucas said. "I mean I've never heard anyone lie like that."

"It was a rare necessity," Andrea told him. "And I hope you don't start taking after me on that one."

"Andrea, I can't tell you how grateful we are," Sam said sincerely. "And I am so sorry you were put in that position."

"It's all right," she assured him. "I hope Lucas doesn't take this to mean that lying to the police is something I condone, but all I knew was that they didn't and couldn't have all the information." Andrea let out a small breath. "Like what happened with the lake?" she said quietly. "Did you know that the police originally suspected Bill Carlton of his children's murders? Since he'd been the only one home?"

Sam stared at her sadly for a long moment. "No, but I don't doubt it."

"Lucas, please get the other tray for Dean. Oh, and is orange juice okay?" she asked them.

"Sounds great," Sam replied.

"Be right back," Lucas said with a nod.

When Lucas went off down the hall, Andrea quickly but silently closed the door. "But I do want the truth from you two," she told them. Sam's face slowly went slack and he swallowed, and Dean's reaction was similar. "It was a murder. I did not expect that and like I said, I don't have all the information, so I don't understand how it got that appearance."

"It was a skinwalker," Sam said quietly. Dean averted his gaze, letting out a long sigh. "They can shift into any animal they want to, with the skin to do it with."

Andrea swallowed hard. "I know what a skinwalker is," she whispered. "What I didn't know is that they exist."

"They do," Sam murmured. "My injuries are from when it was human. He attacked me and managed to get away from us and into his bedroom, and then Dean was expecting to break the guy's door down and find him human, but he'd shifted. Caught Dean by surprise. I shot him, but they shift back to normal when they're dead. So what the sheriff didn't tell you was that they found him wrapped in the skin of a tiger. You'll probably read that in the paper."

Andrea stared at him for a few seconds before she slowly nodded. "Okay. I, ah…well I'm sure you're used to shocked reactions to stuff like this."

"Little bit, yea," Dean replied.

"Sam, you should eat your pancakes before they get cold," she told him.

Sam blinked before looking down to his pancakes and back up to her. "Um. Yea. Sure." He paused. "You okay?"

Andrea smiled meekly. "Of course not. But this isn't my world. It's yours. So what matters is that you two are okay," she told him, sliding her eyes to meet Dean's also.

"Hey, no hands here," Lucas called from the hallway, banging on the door with his foot. Andrea opened the door, revealing Lucas holding a tray of pancakes and drinks. "Chow time."

"Feel free to ask for seconds," Andrea told them. "And you guys can get some more sleep if you want."

"We got like ten hours, actually," Sam said, glancing to the clock. "So we should be fine. And alibi or not, we should probably get going."

Andrea nodded in understanding as Dean put some syrup on his pancakes. "Alright. Lucas and I are going to eat some pancakes ourselves and we'll see you off."

"Okay," Sam replied with a nod. Andrea motioned for Lucas to head off and closed the door behind her as she left. Sam gazed at the door for a long moment. "She's pretty damn amazing," he said finally.

"No kidding," Dean mumbled. "These pancakes are awesome."

Sam looked to him, one eyebrow cocked expectantly, and Dean met his gaze for a moment. It was all Sam needed to know his brother knew exactly what he meant.