PROLOGUE

MARCH 23, 1995

MOJAVE FEDERAL PRISON, CALIFORNIA

"Jesus Christ, John," muttered Bobby as he plopped down on the other side of the visitor's booth, slapping down a thick file folder onto the counter. "What a bloody mess you've gotten yourself into."

"Bobby?" John queried in disbelief as he squinted his eyes, reached forward, and hooked his fingers into the wire partition that was separating them. "Is that….is that you?"

"In the flesh. Been a long time." Ten years, actually.

"Holy shit. What...how... what in the hell are you doing here ?" he nearly screeched.

"I asked to be here. Calm down, let's talk like gentlemen. It's just you and me. Nothing's being recorded, and we only have one chance to speak."

John was so taken aback that he literally could not get the mechanisms in his throat to work in order to enable to him to respond - had he anything to say, that is. For now, all he could do was stare and gape. So Bobby dived right in.

"Lucifer has appointed me as the negotiator for this discussion, prior to the arraignment tomorrow. You do know that's happening tomorrow, right? I don't know what they've told you."

John continued to stare, and Bobby gave it right back to him. Several long moments passed.

"What. the hell . are you doing. here ," John repeated, having almost recovered from the shock. There was no anger in the question, although there should be, considering what happened the last time they saw each other.

"As I said," Bobby repeated calmly, although he felt like passing out from anxiety, "I'm a pre-arraignment negotiator. Appointed by Lucifer himself. We only have one hour, John. Shall we get to it?"

John stood up and walked away, pacing his little booth fruitlessly, hoping to exit. There was no guard to let him out, though, and after pounding on the door a few times without response, he stood against the back wall as far as he could go, glaring daggers at his former friend.

"Yes, I know the arraignment is tomorrow, to answer your question. But this makes absolutely zero sense. The Opportunists aren't the ones bringing charges against me, and you're not a government official, so why the hell does Lucifer have any right to appoint anybody for this trial? I repeat: why are you here ?"

"Because we are involved as an interested party for the corporate espionage charges. But never mind that, I don't have time to explain the law. I'm actually here to talk about Sam and Dean...more specifically, to discuss their future if you are found guilty. You should know that Lucifer is aware of my previous relationship with you, and how much I love the boys, too. That's why he thought my presence would be better than someone who doesn't understand the depth of their attachment to you, and vice versa."

John said nothing.

"Are you going to talk to me, or just stare at me like I have three heads?" Bobby asked harshly. "Sit down, John."

"If this is prelude to a grave threat against my sons, I'm happy to stand here and stare at you for 54 more minutes, because that's all you're going to get."

"Actually, it's not a threat. I'm here to help."

John snorted. "Right. Help. What do you want, exactly?"

"To be precise, I want you to sit down in front of me and talk about old times for a few minutes. Then we will talk about the future. There will be no more arguing from my end, but you're welcome to it if it makes you feel better. Just don't expect me to reciprocate. Please sit, John."

Bobby watched as John gauged his expression critically, then crossed the room and sat down heavily. He smiled sardonically and pitched his tone up to an excessively cheerful tenor.

"So, Bobby, old friend. How have you been? Life treating you well? Divorced yet? Got kids? Been on vacation? Do tell."

Bobby sighed. "Fine. Not really. Widower. No kids. No vacation. Anything else?"

"Not for the moment," John replied in a normal tone, feeling like a total shit suddenly. "I'm very sorry to hear about Karen."

"Thank you. Let's proceed. Listen, John. These charges...if you plead not guilty against the evidence, the trial is going to be an absolute shit show. Even without it, you must know the jury will be heavily prejudiced against you, especially with your recent tirade against your own constituents."

"It wasn't a tirade, it was a...forget that! I thought you were only here to discuss the boys," John replied sharply, pounding the counter as he did so.

"In a minute." He picked up the file. "Bribery of state officials. Abuse of the public trust. Political espionage...that's the one that allows Lucifer in the game. Treason against the nation. I'm not here to discuss your guilt or innocence, but-"

"I won't be found guilty," John responded confidently. "These charges were only brought three days ago, but-"

"Yes, you will. That's why I'm here."

Now John looked at him like he really did have three heads. "What are you saying?"

Bobby took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "I'm saying...look, it's really difficult to say this to you, but I have to. John, this is so bad that your own party decided to lock you up, not us. This is their doing. I'm not the enemy. Lucifer's not the enemy, at least not right now. I'm just wondering how the hell it was you that finally brought down the Insurrectionists? I mean, perhaps I should be saying thank you, but damn, I'm just as confused as everyone else. This is unprecedented. It's sensational."

"If you are already convinced of my guilt, why are you here?" John demanded furiously. "Lucifer should be doing handstands and throwing a party right about now. Not trying to help my sons. None of this makes sense, and I would appreciate if you would get to the point."

Bobby's eyes narrowed. "Again, I'm here to talk about what's going to happen to Sam and Dean if you are found guilty by a jury."

John grinned. "I can still read you like a book after all these years, Bobby. You're threatening my sons because a trial could prompt me to expose things that would bring down Lucifer, should I decide to bargain with the government instead of you. This is such an obvious ploy that I'm almost disappointed at the lack of suspense."

Bobby hesitated for the first time, and felt unsure of his own footing for a few moments. John wasn't wrong to be angry about the party's motives where he was concerned, but no one was threatening the boys. Bobby would never have agreed to such a tactic, and neither would Lucifer - who, after all, was the one trying so hard to change the current law regarding what happens to the orphans of convicted felons.

"Alright, John. Let's put emotions aside and talk facts instead for the moment. If you are found guilty by trial, your boys will be deeded to the state for life. And that's whether you spend 48 hours or 48 years in jail. It's automatic, no negotiation. You know that already, I assume?"

John nodded wordlessly. He was pale and sweaty all of a sudden.

Bobby softened his tone, hating himself for what he had to say next. "The Opportunists can propose a plea deal in which that does not occur, but you must plead guilty and agree to immediate execution. Before you decide, I'll remind you one last time that your conviction is certain."

John's expression could have set the world on fire in its intensity. He leaned forward, thankful for the wire barricade that would stop him from adding homicide to the long list of charges against him.

"You son of a bitch," he growled dangerously. "Now I see why our conversation isn't being recorded."

CONTINUED IN NEXT CHAPTER