A/N: No long list of excuses. We all know real life screws things up. Only a simple "sorry so late" to start this chapter.
Not for the first time, Sam was glad the case in Salem turned out to be a bust, kids playing a practical joke that got out of hand. He still felt guilty about walking away from his brother in Indiana and wanted to make it up to him before things got worse. It terrified him to think what could've happened if he'd waited even a few minutes more before going back. Dean tried to hide the fact that he'd been hurt, both physically and emotionally, and not only on that case. The physical injuries were easier to spot and help fix. The emotional scars were another story. With the rough few weeks they'd had, Sam knew Dean wouldn't open up anytime soon. He finally realized the best way to make amends was to admit they didn't need to go to California anymore. Their dad was surely long gone by now. Instead they would do what Dean wanted for a change, they'd go to Las Vegas. He wasn't sure how to broach the subject until he came across the article in the Las Vegas Sun while they were ordering breakfast.
"Hey, Dean. Can we talk?" He tried to keep his tone light to make up for the argument they'd had about where to head next. Sam wanted to get to California as quickly as possible, no Vegas or any other distractions. Dean said they'd decided in Burkitsville that they would wait to hear from Dad and felt their time was better spent finding another case since there would be no Vegas.
"Do we have to?" Dean snapped. "There's really nothing to talk about. You were pretty clear about what you thought last night."
"Fine. You don't have to talk. But at least hear me out?"
"Whatever. But make it quick. We need to get back on the road soon."
"It's about that. I've been thinking about what you said last night." He ignored the mumbled "There's a first" from his brother and continued. "You're right. You were right all along. There's no need to go to California since Dad won't be there anymore."
"What made you change your mind?" He could tell Dean was still angry, but his voice lost a bit of its previous edge.
"I don't know. I guess the truth just finally sank in."
"You can be as stubborn as Dad sometimes." This time the words had no anger to them. "So where to next?"
Sam ignored the comment, hating to be compared with their father. What he had to say next should change the mood at the table considerably. "I found a case. A woman that burned to death with no physical signs there was a fire. None on the body. None in the house. The police are at a total loss."
"Sounds like it could be one of ours. So where is it?"
Rather than come right out and say it, Sam wanted to relish the moment. He turned the laptop around so Dean could see for himself. He watched his brother's expression go from slightly irritated to pure excitement.
"Vegas? Seriously! You found us a case in Vegas?" Dean looked up in surprise and back to the computer to read the article. The next words were so quiet Sam almost missed them. "Thanks, Sammy."
"Why don't I do a little more research while you go apologize the waitress. You were pretty rude to her and I'm not in the mood for any surprises with my breakfast."
Sam spent the rest of breakfast and all of lunch trying to find more information, only coming up with the victim's neighborhood. The police files were locked behind firewalls he'd need more time to hack. To keep himself occupied the rest of the trip to Vegas, Sam decided to look into the people investigating the case; see what they were up against. What he found was not reassuring for their research. They'd have to tread very lightly. The CSI crew in Vegas was accustomed to the more unusual cases and were very thorough. Unfortunately for the Winchesters, the graveyard shift, the group they'd have to work around, were somewhat legendary.
He researched some of the members of that shift and understood why. Most of the high profile cases were solved by them. They also survived more than their share of dangerous situations for a forensics team. Sam was so engrossed in a recent article, he didn't notice they'd stopped. Dean's slightly irritated voice pulled him from the story to show they were in the parking lot of some seedy motel just off the Vegas strip. He could see the turrets of Excaliber in the distance.
"Sam!" said Dean still sounding mildly irritated.
"Huh?"
"Were you paying attention at all? I said we're here. Did you find anything useful?"
"Yes and no. Pertaining to the case, we don't have any more than we did at lunch."
"If it's not about the case, how is it useful?"
"We'll have to find a different way to approach this case. Our usual ways aren't going to work."
"And why not?"
"The team investigating it is why. According to several articles I've read, the CSI team in Vegas, particularly the late shift crew, are the best in the country; the highest rate of closed cases, the leader in new forensic techniques."
"How does that change what we do?" The irritation level in Dean's voice was rising. Sam knew what he was about to say would not improve that.
"It means we can't simply pretend to be Feds and expect them to buy it. They certainly won't talk to reporters. They'll already know everything about the victim; their family, friends, and co-workers, so we can't pretend to be concerned loved ones. The files for the case are locked up tighter than Fort Knox. The only way to learn anything about this case is through them and there's not a chance in hell they will buy any of our usual stories."
"Hmm. Divide and conquer? See if there's a weak link in the group?"
"No, that won't work. The team is a very tight knit group, very loyal and protective of each other."
"So what then?"
"We drive the neighborhood and hope we find the house. With the correct address we can at least research the history of the house before we try anything risky."