Pressed Into Service

Summary: Sam's not himself after a research trip goes horribly wrong… really not himself.

A few answers for you here… Not all of them, but a few.

Chapter Three

"Can I help you?" A young woman stood in the open door of the upscale suburban home. She was average-looking with dark shoulder-length hair, dressed in the typical American uniform of jeans and print shirt.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean said, giving her a low-watt version of his smile. Sam hadn't said a word on the drive from the motel and the longer he went without speaking the more worried Dean got. He and Sam were both in their suits which only added to the level of discomfort. "We're attorneys with Boston and Scholz. Our client has asked us to look into the death of a family member at the cave this summer. We were hoping you would have a few minutes to talk to us?"

"You're lawyers?" the woman asked skeptically.

Dean just nodded and kept smiling. He knew he didn't come across like a lawyer, suit or not. Still, look confident and most people were too chicken to call you on it. That and, even acting as weird as he was, Sam looked trustworthy and just more professional somehow. Dean had no qualms about riding Sam's decent, respectable seeming coattails.

"What happened to your face?"

"What do you mean?" Dean replied innocently. It was a useful technique. It put the responsibility on the person who'd asked the question and implied that they'd made a mistake, all at the same time. It was kind of like asking a woman when she was due and having her tell you she had the baby two months ago. Thankfully it was early and his face wouldn't look really awful until tomorrow.

"I… nothing," she said uncomfortably. "What is it you need?"

"We just want to make sure that the cave is safe, Mrs. Conrad. That is our client's primary concern."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "My husband died when the cave wall collapsed. I thought that-"

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Dean pressed.

She hesitated for another second and then finally stepped back, allowing them into the house. Dean looked at Sam and saw that he was nearly mesmerized, staring at the woman. Despite every instinct telling Dean this was a bad idea, the lady was their only real lead. He surreptitiously put a hand beneath Sam's elbow and urged him forward.

Mrs. Conrad led them into the living room and gestured toward the sofa. Dean parked Sam on the couch and then waited for the woman to sit before he took his own seat.

"Is your friend all right?" she asked, eyeing Sam.

"I'm fine, thanks," Sam answered, still staring at her as if spellbound. Ok, Dean thought. Weird, but passable. At least Sam had found his voice.

Dean cleared his throat. "Can you tell us what happened that day in the cave?"

The woman looked back and forth between the two of them. She nervously fiddled with a ring she was wearing, twisting it around her finger. It was a large diamond and Dean supposed it must have been her engagement ring.

"There's really not much to tell, Mr…" she trailed off.

"Call me Tom," Dean said. "This is Barry."

She frowned. "Right. Look, Brian and I… Well… we hadn't been getting along." She looked back down at the ring again, still twisting it around her finger.

"So you thought a cave tour would help?" Dean asked incredulously, then coughed knowing his tone had been a little too amused.

"We took the tour when we were on our honeymoon," Mrs. Conrad replied, then smiled at the look on Dean's face. "Yeah, I thought it was a dumb idea then too. Nothing says romance like cave mold."

Dean knew better than to say anything, but Sam was sitting very straight and he looked incensed. "I'm sure it was educational," Sam said and Dean didn't like the almost confrontational glint in his brother's eyes.

The woman actually snorted. "I'm sure that's exactly what Brian thought. Educational…" She shook her head. "Well, it certainly was. The first time it taught me that I'd married a very special man. The second time it taught me never to go into a cave again. Guano, fungus and dead husbands," she said bitterly. "Can't imagine why everyone doesn't go caving."

Dean decided it was time for a lawyerly redirect. "Mrs. Conrad, if you could just tell us what happened?"

"Sorry," she sighed. "We were on the tour. We walked into this place where the cave widened. All of a sudden, I heard this sort of… rumbling, I guess. I heard Brian shout my name. Then someone pushed me real hard. I ended up on my face and everyone was yelling. It was like a stampede, people trying to get out of the way. I was lucky I didn't get trampled. He'd pushed me out of the way. Brian got caught when the cave wall crumbled though."

"I… He saved your life?" Sam said.

Dean looked over at him abruptly and saw that Sam's eyes had started to bleed toward blue. Dean grabbed his brother's arm and dug his fingers in until Sam gasped and looked at him, eyes clearing again, a freaky sight in and of itself.

"Yeah," Mrs. Conrad said, too caught up in her own memories to notice the odd exchange between them. "The big jerk."

Sam's head snapped back toward her. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, his tone bordering on belligerent.

"We'd been on that stupid tour for an hour and I'd just decided that I'd had it. I was going to ask Brian for a divorce. I couldn't stand being married to him for one more minute and then the big jerk goes and gets himself killed saving me."

"You were going to ask for a divorce?" Sam bit out. Dean dug his fingers into Sam's arm again, trying to keep his brother grounded in the here and now and more importantly keep Sam's co-pilot from completely taking over.

"Talk about guilt, huh?" she said sheepishly. "Hard to hate the guy when he died for you." Mrs. Conrad grimaced. "Is it awful that I'm still mad at him for being a crappy husband?"

"I'm sure everyone in your situation would have… mixed feelings," Dean said, deciding that was a safe middle ground statement. If he started thinking about being pissed at a guy who'd died for him, he'd have a breakdown in about two minutes flat. Now was not the time. Sam first. Breakdown later.

"Crappy husband?" Sam shook Dean's hand off and stood up. Dean did the same, knowing without looking that Sam's eyes were blue. They were so screwed.

"Look," she stood as well, eyeing both of them again apprehensively, "I'm not sure what's really going on here, but I think it's time you left. I can't tell you anything else anyway."

Sam reached out as if he would take her arm. "But, Carrie…"

The woman backed away sharply at the sound of her name. "Who are you two? Do I know you?"

"No," Dean said with certainty, casually trying to push Sam toward the front door. "I'm sorry we bothered you." Really sorry. Sam was starting to push back and Dean was afraid this was going to devolve into another wrestling match. "Mrs. Conrad, just one last thing."

"Yes?" she asked warily.

"Could you tell us where your husband is buried? We thought we might pay our respects." Dean tried to look sincere, which frankly never worked very well. He needed Sam for this, but Sam was currently incommunicado.

Mrs. Conrad looked so immediately taken aback that Dean stopped struggling with Sam who stepped up beside him and they both stood waiting.

"What did you do?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Nothing that's any business of yours," she answered almost defensively.

"What did you do, Carrie?" Sam snapped.

"I… I was angry," she said.

"And?" Sam demanded, taking a step toward her. His fists were clenched, his body language threatening and nothing like Sam's and Dean stepped up beside him, bracing himself in case this went wrong. Well, more wrong.

"The lawyer was reading the will and Brian had set out all of these stipulations. There were all of these stupid instructions for this and that; what he wanted done with every little bit of money we had and he'd never even consulted me about any of it! It was like everything else. He just ordered me around. Told me how it should be and expected me to follow along."

Sam opened his mouth, but Dean stopped him. "What does that have to do with where Brian's buried?"

"There was a special amount of money earmarked in the will for when he died," she said.

"For?"

"He told me to buy him a nice stone."

"And?" Dean suddenly wished he'd never asked when an almost wicked grin appeared on her face.

"I saw an advertisement in a magazine one time for a service where they take your ashes and make them into a diamond." Mrs. Conrad held out her hand so that they could both see the ring she was wearing, the one with the big diamond Dean had noticed earlier.

"You…" Dean blinked, staring at the ring.

The woman laughed humorlessly. "I bought Brian a stone. Pretty, don't you think?"

I will do my best to get the next chapter up tomorrow, but no promises. Miles to go before I sleep.