A/N: Thank you all so much! Thanks to Sharllissa, Beakers47, grishma239, VattaKeto, Jenna, Missy Winchester, sarah, Sara B, BranchSuper, Qbbie, and Guest for reviewing!

Note on the text: remember, it takes time to become a lawyer. This story takes place in 2008, so it is entirely possible for Jess to have an iPhone first generation. They came out in 2007, and went down in price significantly by 2008. :)

It seemed like the quick refresher was a win, so I'll be doing that from now on. Enjoy!
-Jaq

"Tell us exactly what happened, sir," the man said in a deep voice.

Sam swallowed. Best to go with the story he and Dean had rehearsed. "I was...I was angry with the accused," Sam mumbled.

"Speak clearly."

Sam nodded. "I was angry with the accused. I leaned over and my Swiss Army knife fell out of my jacket pocket-"

"Your breast pocket?"

"Yes, sir. And he-the accused- leaned over and used his head to pull the knife towards him. I don't know how, but he somehow undid the cuffs. I was going to shout, call for security, but he threatened me with the knife. I was afraid. Then..." Sam grimaced. "He hit me. Next thing I know, I'm being shaken awake by you."

The man nodded, his face devoid of emotion. "You'll be taken to a hospital," he said. "They will assess your injuries there."

As soon as questions were answered, the press was satisfied, a doctor had examined Sam's injuries, and Sam had obtained clothes, he hailed a cab and went directly home. He was met on the doorstep by Jess, who ushered him in with a worried expression.

"What happened?" Jess exclaimed, her eyes wide. She walked through their kitchenette and sat down at the table, where a newspaper, a mobile phone, and a half-full cup of coffee sat at her place.

Sam sat down heavily across from her. "It's...complicated." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, thinking absentmindedly that the haircut he had gotten yesterday in preparation for the morning was a little shorter than he wanted.

Jess sat up, giving Sam a face. "That's why I asked. Complicated how?"

Sam was torn. He could either tell Jess the truth, and face the consequences, or he could lie, again, and face those consequences. He almost laughed. He was a lawyer now, for real, and he was considering lying to his fiancee. Nice one, Winchester.

"I...the accused wasn't guilty," Sam said evasively.

Jess' eyebrows shot up. "I just read a summary that said that the accused not only escaped, but he beat you unconscious and..." she glanced back down at the screen of her phone. "...'stole your clothes and wallet and exited the premises wearing them?'"

Sam swallowed and looked away in embarrassment. "...Yeah."

"So why are you defending him?" Jess' eyes suddenly became fearful. "He didn't...threaten you, right?" Her voice was anxious, and she glanced around. "I won't tell anyone. Sam, we can do this. But you have to tell me."

Sam sighed. Dammit. "He's my brother."

The weight of his words sank into the room for a few seconds while Jess collected her thoughts. "He may be your brother," she said at last, "but he's still a criminal. I can understand why you wouldn't want to speak against him, however." She paused and frowned. "Isn't there a law against that, anyway? The lawyer and jury can't have any relation to the accused?"

"There is. He used a false ID. I didn't know until he stepped into the courtroom. But Jess, it's not just that he's my brother. I...know he isn't guilty. He practically raised me when we were kids, and I never..." Sam shook his head. "He wouldn't do it."

"He was caught red handed, Sam. You told me, remember? You were relieved that your first case was obvious."

Dammit. "Jess...okay. Let's start over. I've never really told you about my past, right?"

Jess nodded, accepting the slight switch of subject without commenting. She wrapped her slim hands around her coffee and took a sip.

Sam looked a little to her left. "I...my family...we hunt...things."

"Things like...animals?" Jess asked uncertainly. She was a vegetarian, and it made sense...sort of...that Sam wouldn't tell her, but she wasn't that upset by it. She knew people hunted.

Sam sighed again and shook his head. "Things like ghosts. Demons, shapeshifters...Dad took down a werewolf once, with a buddy, but that was before I was allowed to join them...I've hunted a wendigo a couple of times..." He paused, looking at Jess' reaction.

His fiancee was looking at him concernedly. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her eyes pinched at the end. She had bitten her lip slightly. "...Sam?" she asked after a pause. "Are you...Sam, let's call a doctor."

"No, Jess. I'm not hallucinating, or have an overactive imagination, or going crazy. You have to trust me."

Jess shook her head. "Sam, I don't believe in things I can't see. Prove that ghosts exist and I'll join you in your train to crazytown, but until then..." she sighed. "Let's just call a doctor. The whole case has put a ton of stress on you, it's only normal..."

Sam let out a sharp, breathy laugh. "Normal? No, I'm pretty sure that 'normal' is the one thing it's not. Okay." He thought. "Remember a few years ago, on November first?"

Jess frowned. "November first, as in, the night our apartment burned down? Sam, are you trying to tell me that a ghost burned it down?"

"Not a ghost. A demon." Sam smiled bitterly. "I found sulfur, which is left behind when a demon has been in a place. I guess it's a good thing you drove to the library to pick me up, or you would have been home with it."

"So what you're saying is that the night before your interview, when you were studying at the library, and I drove down to pick you up because I decided you needed more than five hours of sleep, a demon broke into our apartment and set it on fire? Sam, that doesn't make any sense. At all."

"I know it doesn't. This is a lot to take in. Promise me this, okay: I'll find some way to prove that monsters exist, alright, and then you can decide for yourself. If you decide they aren't, you can take me to a doctor and have them run all the tests you want. But I promise you, I'm perfectly sane."

Jess, seeing that it was the best offer she would get, grudgingly nodded. "Alright." She paused. "What did all of that have to do with your brother?"

"It wasn't him that did all that stuff, Jess. It was a shapeshifter that looked like him. DNA tests and everything passed, but it wasn't him. He told me."

"And you believed him?"

Sam shrugged. "It's not the most incredulous thing that's happened to my family."

"You helped him escape." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "You didn't know if he was guilty or not, and you threw your job into jeopardy to help him escape."

Sam bristled slightly. "Yeah, I did. Well, I had planned it a different way, but...yeah. I helped him. So?"

"Sam, I don't believe all this ghosts and demons crap, alright, but how are the authorities going to see this? They'll figure it out, somehow, and then what?"

"I don't know! But I couldn't just leave him there, Jess!" Sam calmed down slightly. "I'd do the same for you! He's my brother."

Jess' shoulders sagged. "I know. I'm just not sure that it was the best idea."

-:-

Dean walked into the bar, freshly dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a plaid flannel. He would have preferred a jacket as well, but he'd already had to steal it all and there wasn't that much room under Sam's clothes. He still had about fifty dollars, and it was plenty to hustle enough money to buy gas to get to South Dakota. Walking over to the pool table, he surveyed the scene.

Two men were playing. One had a beer belly, little hair, and was smoking a cigarette. The other was shorter, with broad shoulders and a tattoo on his arm that read "Lindsay." Dean wondered who Lindsay was, but he'd learned that it was best not to ask in that situation. He watched the game. Neither man was amazing, but they weren't bad.

As Dean watched, Beer Belly scratched, hitting the cue ball into a pocket. He swore loudly, and the small crowd roared. Grinning with triumph, Lindsay Tattoo shot at the last remaining striped ball and it landed in the side pocket with a satisfying plop. He carefully lined up the shot, and the 8 ball rolled neatly into the opposite pocket. Swearing vehemently, Beer Belly yanked out his wallet. Carefully, the man counted out money and slammed it onto the table with a glare towards Lindsay Tattoo, who grinned smugly.

"Any challengers?" Lindsay Tattoo said, adopting the manner of some sort of untouchable champion. Dean waited, and then spoke.

"Sure," he said, giving an easy grin. "Twenty?"

Lindsay Tattoo raised his bushy eyebrows. "Twenty? Sure, I'll go for twenty." He smirked. "You sure?"

Dean nodded quickly, keeping his eyes earnest. "Sure! You can go first."

"I'll break, sure."

Dean watched as the man lined up the pool balls. Removing the wooden triangle, he placed the dirty white cue ball across from them.

An hour later, Dean was two hundred bucks richer and getting the hell out of a bad situation. Turns out, Lindsay Tattoo didn't like losing. At all. Dean had taken the money and ran, literally.

He glanced at Sam's watch. It was just after one AM. If he got his ass in gear, he could make it to Bobby's by tomorrow at the same time.

-:-

The next day was Saturday. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Sam was sitting next to Jess on their small sofa, watching a movie.

There was a loud rap on the door. Sam stood and walked over to it, throwing Jess a questioning glance. In return, she shrugged, but Sam caught a note of suspicion in her eye.

He walked over and looked through the peephole. A woman in a ponytail stood there, dressed in uniform. Sam opened the door several inches.

"Hello?"

"Sam Winchester?" the woman asked, not unkindly.

Sam nodded, but didn't open the door any wider. "What do you want?"

"You are asked to report for questioning about the escape of John Ridley." She paused. "There is probable cause as to your involvement. This is not an accusation or an indictment. However, if you do not go peacefully, the usage of force is authorized."

Sam sighed. "When?"

"Immediately."

"Give me a minute."

She nodded, and Sam walked back into the kitchenette/living area. He left the door cracked so that the policewoman could see him.

Jess looked up, her suspicions confirmed. "Is it-"

"I'm being taken in for questioning. It's nothing serious, but I'll be a while."

Jess pursed her lips, but nodded. "Well, I guess 'good luck' isn't the appropriate response."

Sam shook his head. "I'll see you in a bit."

Sam quirked a smile, met Jess for a quick, chaste kiss, and walked out.

-:-

The next day, Dean pulled into Singer Salvage. He was dead-tired, and hadn't taken a shower in several days. Slamming the car door shut, he walked up to the front door and knocked.

There was a pause, and then the door was yanked open and Dean's face was suddenly covered in water. Closing his eyes and spitting water out of his mouth, his hands clenched into fists. "Dammit, Bobby, I am pissed as hell, tired as hell, and human as hell. Let me in."

"That the way to treat someone you haven't seen in over a year?" came the grumpy reply. Dean opened his eyes to see an older man, wearing a t-shirt, jeans, a baseball cap, and a frown.

Dean smiled flatly. "I was in jail."

Bobby's eyebrows raised. "That so? Well I'll be damned. They finally caught the great Dean Winchester."

"Can it, Bobby. Do you have my car?"

"I might."

Dean sighed, trying to keep his temper. He'd met with Bobby a couple times over the last several years after Sam went to college, but he always forgot how ornery the man was. "Well, it'd be nice if I could see her."

"It'd be nice if you showered first," Bobby muttered, throwing the door open. "You want a beer?"

Dean smiled genuinely at the place. "Yeah, that'd be great."

An hour, a beer, and a shower later, Dean was explaining his last year to Bobby. He finished, leaning back in his chair.

"I think you should call Sam," was Bobby's response after a pause.

"Sam? Why? I'm stayin' out of the kid's life, Bobby. For good this time."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "He's gonna be worried about you, idjit. Trust me."

Dean slid his eyes evasively. "I...I don't have his number."

"You got his cellphone?"

Dean frowned. "No. I didn't want it to be tracked."

"Fine. I got his landline."

"How'd you get that?" Dean asked, surprised. "I never gave it to you."

Bobby gave Dean a knowing look. "I have my ways. Trust me."

"Okay."

Bobby walked over and picked up one of his many phones, the one that had a taped-on label reading "untraceable." He dialed a number off of a list, and gave it to Dean.

Dean took a deep breath as the call connected.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?" came a female voice. "If you're looking for Sam, he's...out."

A/N 2: Well...Dean meets Jess...turns out I ditched the legal procedures, so apologies to anyone looking forward to that. Please leave a review, it shows you care!

Have a fantastic day.

-Jaq