Chapter Three: The Outlaw Torn
Dean sat on the low, metal-framed bed in his cell looking to the world as cool as though he were sitting in his own living room.
Back resting against the cinderblock wall behind him, right ankle sitting atop left thigh, Dean oozed calm and confidence.
He had been arrested before but he'd always managed to escape in those situations, albeit sometimes as a result of dumb luck, and so he looked at this as the exact same. Not only was he counting on the small amount of luck which always seemed allow Sam and him to squeak out of the grasp of the police, but now that they actually had friends on the inside who would do everything possible to help them out.
The only thing Dean was truly concerned about was his brother and his tenuous hold on reality. He was terrified of Sam having an 'episode' in front of one of the FBI agents. If that happened, Dean had no doubts that they'd lock his brother up in some nuthouse and throw away the key. But he had no idea what to do; the agents had put him and Sam at opposite ends of the holding area. There was no way Dean couldn't see his brother, much less hear him. So, if some memory of Hell flared up…
Just hang in there, Sammy; Dean thought silently, directed towards his brother as though they could communicate by Winchester telepathy; we'll get out of his mess soon, just hang on.
SPN
Sam sat on the low, metal-framed bed in his cell looking to the world like a man on the day of his execution. Feet planted firmly on the cement floor, hands clasped tightly between his thighs, head lowered so that his hair screened his face, back curved as though under an immense weight, the younger Winchester was struggling to keep control.
Lucifer was leaning against the bars on the other side of the room, ankles and arms crossed casually.
The hunter's body thrummed with so much tension he was trembling. He didn't know where the Feds had put his brother, having separated them upon entering the holding area, but Sam feared that without Dean nearby, he wouldn't be able to maintain his grip on reality for long.
Sam opened his hands and jammed his thumb into the scar on his left hand, gritting his teeth as he did so. From across the cell, the hunter heard the Devil give an exaggerated sigh but he did his best to ignore it.
You're not real; he thought desperately, you're not real, not real, not real…
"You know what this reminds me of, Sammy?" Lucifer asked, "The bars, the close quarters, why it's just like the Cage, isn't it?"
Sam clenched his jaw so tightly the muscles spasmed. He pressed down even harder on his hand, willing the hallucination to disappear.
"Why don't we do something fun while we wait?" Lucifer asked, his voice closer now.
"No!" Sam gasped and spread his hands, an idea suddenly coming to him.
Reaching up with his left hand, the hunter gripped his right shoulder and dug his fingers into the still-healing flesh. Pain raced down the limb and Sam groaned. Lifting his head, his eyes widened when he saw that Lucifer was gone. He was alone.
A sob escaped the hunter's throat and he fell back against the cinderblock wall, relief washing over him.
SPN
"Find anything useful?" Morgan came up behind Garcia and Reid, the two of them focused on the laptop screen before them.
"Not yet," Garcia said quietly.
"We've watched these a dozen times and can't find anything," Reid turned in his seat to look at his friend, "The Leviathans are just too good. They look just like the Winchesters."
Morgan sighed and peered at the screen between his two team members.
"Maybe it's not proving those two aren't Sam and Dean that'll help them," he suggested, "Maybe it's proving they were somewhere else when the murders took place."
Garica paused the footage and looked to the dark-skinned agent.
"Why didn't we think of that?" she asked, but smiled.
"If we can prove, definitively, that Dean and Sam were seen somewhere else at the time of these crimes," Garcia continued, "Then we might be able to prove they are innocent."
"To find out where Sam and Dean were when these Leviathans killed those people," Reid said, "We need to talk to them. Do you think Lamb would let us?"
"He might let Rossi or Hotch," Morgan replied slowly, "But I wouldn't count on it."
Reid wilted a little.
"Don't worry about it, Kid. Even Lamb has to take a break," Morgan assured him, "And when he does, we'll get our chance."
The young doctor nodded, "I just hope you're right, Morgan."
The older agent turned serious, "It's the best hope we have right now."
"I'm gonna check in with Hotch," he continued, "You may as well put that away, it won't help."
Garcia nodded and pushed the eject button on her laptop, slipping the CD out on which the footage had been copied.
Leaving the two other agents, Morgan made his way back to his team leader's office. He hoped he was right. If they could find out where Sam and Dean were when the Leviathans had killed all those people, if they could find and interview witnesses to prove the Winchesters were not at the bank or the diner, then they could have a chance in claiming that the brothers had been set up.
SPN
Supervisor Special Agent Carter Lamb sat down behind the desk in his little-used office and stared at the other members of his team.
"We did it," Lamb announced, "The Winchesters are finally in FBI custody. Give yourselves a pat on the back."
No one moved. The other members of Lamb's team knew that when he said 'we' he really meant 'I'.
Agent Fan, the only woman on Lamb's team, cleared her throat.
"How long do you want to wait before interviewing the Winchesters? You know you can't wait too long-"
Lamb leaned forward in his chair and interrupted her, "Dean Winchester. I want to interview Dean Winchester. He's the mastermind behind all of their crimes."
Agent Clayton, the mountainous agent who had arrested Sam, spoke up, "What about Sam Winchester? You should be interviewing both of them."
Lamb scowled, "Sam Winchester? From what I hear he's retarded or autistic or something and just does what his brother tells him to do. Every serial killer team has to have a dominant and a submissive partner, Clayton, and Sam Winchester is definitely the submissive one in this relationship."
"But Carter, you still need to get statements from both brothers," Peterson, the final member of the team spoke up.
Lamb sighed heavily, "Fine, if it'll keep Strauss happy, I'll interview the younger brother too."
"When were you planning on interviewing them?" Fan asked again.
"Jesus!" Lamb snapped, "In the morning! Let them stew for a bit. There's no hurry, it isn't like they're going anywhere."
"What are you all still doing here? Don't you have paperwork to do?" Lamb asked and the three other members of his team left the office, each wishing they hadn't been saddled with the arrogant agent and each secretly planning on handing Request For Transfer forms to Strauss once this case was wrapped up and the Winchesters were safe and sound in some maximum security penitentiary and no longer their problem.
W
Alone in his office, Carter Lamb opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a large cigar. Tearing off the plastic wrapping, the agent brought the cigar to his nose and took a long whiff of its pungent aroma.
"Ahhh," he sighed and placed his feet up on the desk, grabbing a lighter from the same drawer he'd obtained the cigar from and thumbed the wheel, "Here's to me."
Lighting the end of the cigar and blowing out the small flame, Lamb stuck the end of it in his mouth and tossed the lighter on the desk. Leaning back, with his hands behind his head, the agent puffed away at the cigar, feeling mighty proud of himself for capturing the Winchester brothers.
SPN
Reid bade a weary goodbye to his team members as one by one they left the building, heading home for the night. Hotch was the last one to head home since Jessica was watching Jack for him. The team leader stopped by the doctor's desk and peered concernedly at the young man.
"Why don't you head home? You can't do anymore tonight," Aaron asked but Reid shook his head.
"I can't," the doctor argued, "I'm worried that Sam might have one of those episodes like before and he, well, he might need help."
Aaron nodded, "I understand, Reid."
Reid knew there wouldn't be much he could do to help Sam if he did start having an episode; he wasn't Dean and he wasn't a medical doctor, he probably wouldn't even know it was happening sitting at his desk in the bullpen, but that didn't squash the feeling that he needed to stay the night.
"We'll help them, Reid," Aaron told him, laying a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "We'll prove Sam and Dean are innocent."
The doctor nodded his head and turned to peer at Agent Lamb's office across the catwalk from Hotch's. The light was still on and the blinds were opened halfway, indicating the man was still inside.
"You should go," Reid said, "Spend some time with Jack."
"See you tomorrow," Aaron said and left Reid, walking towards the elevators.
The young doctor waited until his team leader had gotten onto one of the elevators before quickly looking back to Lamb's office.
He had no idea why the man was still in his office but it didn't matter. As long as Lamb stayed there, Reid didn't really care.
Standing up, the doctor cast one last glance over his shoulder before heading towards the elevators.
Pressing the button, Reid waited on pins and needles for the lift to arrive. Once it did and the doors open, the doctor stepped inside quickly and pressed the button to one of the lower levels where suspected criminals were held.
If he could speak to Sam and Dean and get some idea of where they were at the time of the bank and diner massacres then they may have a chance of finding witnesses to put the brothers elsewhere while the real killers were doing their grisly work.
Reid knew Morgan had suggested they wait until Agent Lamb had gone home for the night but the doctor had a sneaking suspicion the man was going to haunt the building until he saw Sam and Dean convicted and locked away for good.
Besides, the sooner Reid found out where Sam and Dean really were during the murders, the sooner his team could get to work finding witnesses willing to make official statements and the sooner the brothers would be released.
Once the elevator had reached the correct level, Reid stepped out into the hallway and headed towards the area where the criminals were held.
Waving to the guard on duty, Reid walked through the door when it was opened for him after a loud, low buzzing sound. Before he could go any further, the guard asked him to hand over anything that might be used as a weapon.
A second set of doors was opened the same way as the first and Reid quickly moved through them before they had fully opened.
The guard called from behind him, "In a hurry, Doctor?" but Reid wasn't listening.
Moving down a hallway with grey tile floors and cells on either side, Reid felt a certain need to rush. He didn't know if it was fear of Agent Lamb coming down to the holding area and finding him- if that happened he was sure he could make up a plausible lie- or his concern for the younger Winchester but the doctor was moving so rapidly that he nearly walked right past Dean.
"Hey! Dr. Reid!"
He stopped a couple of cells down, quickly turned around and faced the older Winchester.
"You on a mission?" Dean asked, standing up and stretching.
"Do you remember where you were at the time the Leviathans were pretending to be you and Sam and killing all those people?" Reid asked without formality.
"What?" Dean asked.
"We think that if we can prove you and Sam were not in those places, we could have a chance in proving your innocence."
Dean still looked confused. Reid sighed and listed the names of the cities the Leviathans were in, "Jericho, California; Manitoc, Wisconsin; St. Louis, Missouri, and Ankeny, Iowa."
"Shit," the elder Winchester swore and ran a hand down his face, "I don't know."
"Do you think Sam would remember?" Reid asked.
Dean shook his head, "If he didn't have Hell rattling around in his head, I'd say yes but not now. He can barely keep it together most of the time."
"Then you have to know!" Reid insisted, "This is the only way we have of getting you and Sam out."
"Okay, okay," Dean answered and began pacing, muttering.
"Jericho… Jericho…"
"That was the First Bank massacre," Reid offered, trying to be helpful, "It was the first attack."
After a moment or two more of pacing, Dean stopped, his expression grim.
"I remember where we were," he told the doctor, "But I don't think it would be very helpful."
"Where?" Reid asked, "Whatever it is, we will make it work."
Dean raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before raking a hand through his hair, "Sam and I were in Whitefish, Montana, helping a friend torture a Leviathan for information."
"Could this friend vouch for you and Sam?" Reid asked. It wasn't an airtight alibi but it could be useful. Maybe. Perhaps they could overlook the fact that a relation and not a complete stranger knew where the brothers were during the time the Leviathans were murdering in their names.
"And where were you and Sam during the other attacks?" Reid wanted to know, maybe there was something there that could be helpful.
"Hunting down the bastards who were pretending to be us and killing innocent people," Dean growled, "We stayed out of public sight as much as possible, since everyone thought we were murderers."
Reid nodded.
"Oh wait! We got arrested in Iowa and almost killed by the Leviathans pretending to be us. The Sheriff there… uh, Osborne, I think his name was, helped us escape and promised to help fake our deaths. You could talk to him."
Reid perked up a bit, "That could be helpful."
Dean gave the doctor one of Bobby's numerous phone numbers before asking the younger man to go check on his brother.
"I'm really worried about Sammy," he told Reid, "I'm afraid he'll snap and your FBI agents will lock him away for good."
Reid, his expression serious, approached the cell, "Dean, I'm going to do everything I can to get you and Sam out before that happens."
The older Winchester smiled, "Thanks, Doc."
Reid returned the gesture and headed down to the other side of the holding area to where Sam was.
For a second Reid thought the younger Winchester was asleep. He was lying on his back on the metal-framed bed, hands laced together on his chest, legs hanging over the end of the bed, before his eyes opened.
"Sam," Reid said, "Are you all right?"
The hunter nodded but didn't move to sit up.
"I made him go away again," Sam told him.
"You made who go away?" Reid asked, "The Devil?"
Again, Sam nodded, "Lucifer."
"We're going to get you out of here," Reid assured him, "My team and I are going to get both of you and Dean out and all charges erased from your records if we can manage it."
"That's good," Sam muttered.
Reid frowned. He wasn't sure Sam was as all right as he claimed he was.
"I should go now," he told his friend, "But I'll be back as soon as I can."
Before leaving the holding area, Reid stopped to talk once more to Dean.
"He said he was all right," he told the older Winchester, "Told me he made Lucifer go away again."
The doctor looked questioningly at the hunter and Dean frowned.
"He said that? Did he tell you anything else?"
Reid shook his head, "What does it mean?"
Dean sighed, "Shortly after the wall in Sam's head broke, he cut his hand open, sliced a gash right down his palm."
"By accident," he added after a moment, as though it would be a stain on his brother's character if Reid believed the younger Winchester had hurt himself on purpose.
The hunter held his left hand open, palm up.
"And at first, Sam would press down on the cut and it seemed to make the hallucinations stop."
Dean pushed his right thumb down onto the palm of his left hand in demonstration.
"But… eventually it stopped working and the hallucinations just got worse."
"Why did that make the hallucinations go away?" Reid asked; he had heard of schizophrenics or drug addicts clawing at their own arms, hallucinating insects underneath the skin but he had never heard of pain causing a hallucination to stop completely.
"I'm not sure," Dean admitted, "But I think that the physical pain Sam causes himself is different then the remembered pain of Hell. If that makes sense. I guess it doesn't really have to. It worked okay."
Reid nodded, "But you said that pressing on the scar on his palm stopped working. What could he be doing now to make the hallucinations disappear?"
Dean thought for a moment and then his eyes widened.
"His shoulder," he said, "The shoulder the Leviathan bit. It still isn't completely healed. Sam must have hurt his shoulder so that Lucifer would leave him alone."
Reid sucked in a breath; he didn't know how he felt about that.
"But… that's good, at least for now," he suggested, "It's helping Sam keep control."
Dean shook his head, "With the way his hallucinations are now, how strong they are, it won't work for long."
Reid said nothing. He only hoped that his friend would be able to hold onto his sanity just a little bit longer.
"I really need to go," he said, "I shouldn't be down here."
Dean nodded, "It was good to see you again."
Reid looked surprised for a moment and then gave a wan smile, "You too, Dean."
"Now just get Sammy and I the heck out of here!" Dean exclaimed, laughing.
Reid nodded, "We'll do everything we can."
Turning away from the hunter, the doctor walked back the way he came, pausing only to say goodnight to the guard before returning to his desk. Looking up at Lamb's office, Reid noticed that the light was now out and the blinds were closed. Lamb must have finally gone home for the night.
Author's Note:
Chapter title comes from a Metallica song of the same name.
Thanks to Trucklady53, QueenBea93, reannablue, and SamDeanLover28 for reviewing.
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