Here is chapter 3...finally! I've been trying to get online all week, and was finally able to do so. Hope you enjoy, and reviews are welcome!! I am working on the next one, and hope to have it up within the next 24 hours.
Fallen Angel

"All right, Mr. White. You're free to go," said the Lieutenant, tossing Dean his clothes. "You can pick up your belongings at the desk on your way out."

"Thanks," he said, grinning. "Can I get some privacy?" he asked Bobby when the Lieutenant left the room. Bobby nodded and headed for the door.

"Make it quick."

Dean made short work of changing his clothes, and he and Bobby left the police station.

"Sam's waiting a few blocks away with the Impala," Bobby said as he and Dean got into the Acura.

"How far did you have to go to get this thing?" Dean asked, checking out the car's interior.

"Far enough. You owe me 250."

"And would you like me to pull that out of my ass?" Dean said dryly.

"You could always use one of your seven credit cards. And after you pay me, I can show you just where to shove them."

"Right." Dean buckled his seat belt and closed his mouth, and he and Bobby set off to pick up the truck meet Sam.

--

Sam was leaning against the driver's door of the Impala smoking a cigarette when Bobby and Dean pulled up. As Dean got out of the truck, Sam threw away his cigarette and made a beeline for his brother.

"Are you okay?"

"Obviously, Sam. You weren't smoking that thing in the car, were you?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Of course not." There was a silence between the three men for a good twenty seconds. "So…what did I do?" Sam asked finally. Bobby reached into his coat and pulled out a manila file.

"Here, read it for yourself." Sam grabbed the file and flipped it open. His eyes went wide as he read the file. As he neared the end, his hands became shaky, and the file fell from his grip, papers scattering on the ground.

"How could I do that?" he looked at Dean. "How could I slit somebody's throat in my sleep?" Sam took a few steps backward, and started to feel a bit faint. Dean rushed to his side and put Sam's arm around his shoulder.

"It's gonna be all right. We'll figure this thing out, ok?"

"But what if I—well, try it again?"

"I'll start locking the deadbolt again and hide the weapons, like Dad used to when we were kids."

"Dean I'm not five anymore. A deadbolt isn't going to stop me." Sam caught a glimpse of a photograph from the case file on the ground, and bent to pick it up. He stared at the photo almost hypnotically. The girl in the photograph was young—she couldn't have been much older than Sam, and she was beautiful. What had possessed him to attack an innocent person in his sleep?

"You okay Sammy?"

Sam looked up at his brother and Bobby.

"There has to be a reason I did this. I can't let this go. I want to remember."

Bobby stepped forward.

"Are you suggesting that we investigate this ourselves?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Okay, so where do we start, Sam? You have no recollection of last night whatsoever."

"I've been researching sleepwalking since Sam was little," Dean chimed in. "We should start by retracing every step that Sam and I took yesterday. People usually dream about things that happened during the day. So if Sam and I relive yesterday again, maybe we can figure out what made him—well, yeah."

"That's a great idea, but I think we need to get ourselves across town and get you two hidden." All agreed, and within seconds everyone was in their vehicles and on their way.

--

Bobby found a discreet motel across town and checked them in under a false name. Once inside the room, they started to discuss the previous day's activities.

"Did you guys talk about anything unusual during breakfast yesterday?" Bobby asked, pulling up a chair from the table.

"We were talking about Dean's deal, and then he found a case in the newspaper."

"Right," said Dean, getting up off the bed. "We ended up tracking a werewolf. It killed twice in one night."

"Or maybe there was more than one," Bobby added. "Did you get the one you were after?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, and Dean let out a nervous chuckle.

"Uh, not exactly."

"Dude, that's it! That's got to be it! I must have been dreaming about the werewolf."

"You mean we went through all this nonsense because Sam was dreaming about a werewolf?" Bobby asked, sounding almost annoyed.

"That can't be it, Sam. It's too easy."

Sam got up from the table.

"I don't know what else it could have been, Dean."

"Hold on a second, boys. We still have some gaps to fill in. What exactly happened with this werewolf?"

"It kinda attacked Sam."

"What?! And you waited this long to tell me? Is there anything else I should know before Sam turns into a werewolf?"

"It didn't bite him. I shot the bastard in the leg before it managed to, but Sam's got a pretty nasty scratch."

"Wait a minute Dean. You don't think that scratch has anything to do with what happened last night, do you?"

Dean thought back to the other night. Sam had not been himself. He had dealt with the sleepwalking before, but Sam had never become violent toward him.

"It's possible. You hit me pretty hard last night." Dean indicated his black eye.

"Sorry about that."

"Enough already! It seems like the scratch Sam got is affecting his personality, but not turning him into a werewolf. His sleepwalking spells don't seem to help, either."

"So we get rid of his sleepwalking, and everyone sleeps better, right?" Dean asked, hopeful.

"Almost. There's no guarantee that Sam will never sleepwalk again. Something like sleepwalking is very hard to control, and with a lifestyle like you guys have, I can't see Sam being free of it for a very long time, if ever."

"Thanks for being so hopeful, Bobby." Sam said dryly.

"There's got to be a way to help my brother. I can't just let him become a sleepwalking serial killer!"

"We're not going to let that happen. We'll find a way to save Sam. I promise."