I apologize for not having this posted sooner. When I tried to post I kept getting an error from ff.n. The issue has finally been corrected and I am finally able to post. Again my apologies. Enjoy!

- S - P - N - S - P - N -

"What kind of fool do you take me for?" Patrick bellowed. "You're probably an accomplice to all these murders. I should have you arrested." The Marshal got up to leave.

Refusing to be threatened, Sam jumped up as well blocking his path. "Then you'll never find that creature and more innocent lives will be destroyed. I'm telling you the truth. Just give me a chance to prove it."

"How the hell are you going to prove anything without implicating yourself?" He jabbed a finger at Sam's chest.

Sam stood up straighter and crossed his arms. "Were you the only escort last night?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Before that, he was being held in a cell block with other prisoners?"

"Of course."

"Then I can guess what happened last night, and while not original it was still effective." The Marshal raised a hand, motioning for Sam to continue, who obliged him. "You were taking him down when he said he needed to go to the bathroom before you left. So it was probably just you and him in there, perfect conditions for what he needed. He attacked you and probably knocked you out. When you woke up he was gone and when you went to tell people about the escape no one saw anything but you. I'll bet they said they thought you had already left."

Patrick swallowed hard. "Like you said kid, not original."

The hesitant doubt he heard in the older man's voice told Sam exactly what he needed. He slammed the Marshal with the whammy he was working up to. "Did you see the skin?"

All color drained from the man's face. "But how…?"

"It sheds when it changes. Like a snake shedding old skin." Sam knew by the look on the man's face that he had nailed it. There was no way the Marshal could deny it now. "We found a number in the sewers when we were searching for my brother."

Slowly, Patrick sank back into his seat. He wiped his face, placed his elbows on the table and locked his hands together. Leaning his forehead against his fist, Patrick sat there for a moment before drawing in a deep breath. In a shaky whisper, he admitted, "I saw it….changing."

Sam eagerly took his seat. What the Marshal just shared was more than he could have ever dreamed. If Patrck had seen the Shifter change then there was no way they could blame Dean. Encouraged by this turn of events, he pressed his advantage. "Then you know what I'm talking about, that I'm telling the truth."

"I don't know anything!" Patrick slammed his hands on the table. "All I know was that thing wasn't human!"

Nodding, Sam agreed, "You're right, it was a Shapeshifter."

Patrick sprung from his seat and spun around. Hands fisted in his deep chocolate locks. "Aw, come on! This is ridiculous!"

"You know what you saw! You saw it changing." Sam challenged the man.

Patrick stood there for a long minute shaking his head trying to make sense of this royally messed up situation. In the end he slowly made his way back to the table and placed his hand flat against the cool surface. Drawing in a deep breath, the older man pierced the pair with his clear blue eyes. "Even if I believed you, you can't expect me to go out there and tell them that the escaped con we're looking for isn't really Dean Winchester but some kind of Shapeshifter, can you? Say it wasn't Dean Winchester that tried to murder that girl but some mythological monster. They'll lock me up instead!"

Sam knew it was too much to hope for to get Dean acquitted so easily so quickly. Still, all hope wasn't lost if he could at lease gain another ally in their arsenal. "No, I don't. All I want is to work together to bring this monster down. As I said before, this is personal. We have reason to believe the creature is still in the area and suspect it's going to attack again."

Eyeing the young man suspiciously, the Marshal asked, "What reasons?"

"I'd be happy to explain everything to you, but I think too much has been said here already." The youngest Winchester had given the man enough to get him hooked. But to say any more now could prove dangerous for them all. What he really needed to do was get back to his brother. Dean was once again alone without back up and by the sounds of it, the creature had an virtual walk-in closet worth of skins he could wear. If the Marshal wanted in, he would have to play by Winchester rules. "If you want to continue this conversation then it will have to be somewhere else."

"Where did you have in mind?"

Glancing quickly at Jenn, who was content to remain silent for now, then back to the older man. "Well, for starters, Starbucks."

"You've got to be kidding me." Patrick laughed. This whole situation was just absurd.

"Alright, not so much going there to talk but to pick up someone."

The meaning behind that statement was obvious. Still, Patrick eyed him curiously. "Let me guess, your brother."

"I'm not at liberty to say at this point." Sam smirked. "So how about it, Marshall? You want to get this bastard or do you go back to hunting down an innocent person?"

Leaning forward, the U.S. Marshal stated in a clear, firm voice, "I want my prisoner back."

"Then let's go." Sam got up with Jenn following suit. They were about to head out when noise erupted from Sam's pocket.

"Sammy! Sam!" Dean's voice crackled through the material of Sam's jacket. Reaching inside, he pulled out the phone and put it to his ear.

He listened for a few moments, nodding. "Fine, I'll see what I can do. See you soon." Turning back to the other man, Sam smiled sheepishly. "Marshal, I know I've already pressed my luck here pretty far, but I need to ask you for one more favour."

- S – P – N –

Ten minutes later Sam and Jenn were walking into the Starbucks with Patrick trailing behind them. Dean was still sitting in the same place the pair left him. Dean glanced between all three of them as they stood over his table. Gruffly, he said, "Well?"

Sam tucked his fingers in his hip pockets and answered his brother. "Well, we're going to talk but we can't do it here. And we shouldn't go to the hotel yet until we know we won't need to go anywhere. So we have to figure out a good place to talk, privately."

"Simple, let's book a conference room and hash this puppy out." Dean's mocking tone denied any validity to his request.

Jenn offered an empty smile as she commented, "Well, if this was a normal situation, I would have already had the room arranged, but seeing as this is anything but, I would say come up with a new plan."

Patrick seemed equally unhappy about the current predicament. After a pregnant pause, he tentatively suggested, "We can go to my apartment."

Sam's lips quirked in contemplation before glancing back down at his brother. They shared a look, deciding without speaking, and turned back to Patrick, "It probably wouldn't be a bad idea for a start. That way you can grab some things before you leave."

"What do you mean leave?" Surprise lacing his tone.

Dean looked up at the man hard then laid it out for him. "You said the Shifter changed into you, which means he now knows everything about you; where you work, favourite restaurants, what hand you use to wipe. Every thought, every dream, every nightmare. This thing now has access to them all. It will use any and all against you. For your sake I hope we take this sucker down before it can cause any more damage." Dean frowned as another thought occurred to him. "Do you have family?"

"Yes, but she's in Nevada right now."

"Good," Dean nodded. "This thing isn't about to skip town yet so she should be safe for now. And if we take it down, then you won't have anything to worry about."

"How can you be so sure about that? How do you know this shifter-thing is around still?"

"Later," Dean dismissed the man's questions quickly. "But right now we need to move. Did you bring the stuff?"

"Yeah, in my car. I'll show you when we get to my apartment."

Dean nodded his approval. The newly formed quartet quickly broke down Dean's set up.. Sam held out a hand for Dean to take, but his older brother wasn't ready to take it. His pride wouldn't allow him to accept the help in public. Using the chair and table, Dean pushed himself to his feet. From there, he did his best to walk as casually as he could out of the coffee shop. Once outside, Sam, Jenn and Dean climbed into the Impala and followed Patrick's Charger back to his place.

It didn't take long to reach a small cluster of buildings that advertised short term rentals and furnished apartments. The place looked well kept but lacked a sense of home. The lot was virtually empty. Climbing out of the back seat, (which he had been forced into since that morning by both Sam and Jenn in an attempt to keep his leg straight and supported) Dean leaned against his baby and huffed, "This place is cozy."

Patrick walked over to them carrying a box. "This place is temporary. Only here a few more weeks til my shift is up."

"Shift?" Sam pondered aloud.

Patrick shrugged, "Can't be too careful. Cons sometimes aren't as rehabilitated as they claim to be. Retaliation or revenge is a constant threat. So we don't work in the same place we live."

"Don't piss where you sleep kind of a thing." Dean added his own unique perspective to the conversation.

Patrick grinned. "Yeah, in a manner of speaking." He had to admit he liked Dean's straight up, point blank, in your face kind of attitude. In his line of work, he had learned to see through the false bravado of his prisoners, their dark and nasty words that they used to mask their own troubles. While Dean still had a mask, he could see that the kid was grounded in a harsh reality that molded his personality.

"That my stuff?" Dean asked, bringing Patrick back from his thoughts.

"Yup." He was about to lead them up to his place when he looked Dean over for the first time. The shadowed interior of the Starbuck's and the need to get to a secluded spot, kept his focus from the older Winchester. But now that he had a chance to look over him in the glaring – and unflattering – light of the sun, Patrick couldn't believe the kid was walking around on his own.

Automatically, the Marshal started categorizing the wounds. He noticed some bruising on the kid's face and how every breath seemed to be calculated and measured. He also realized Dean's grip on the car was more than a casually hold, more like if he let go, he might just topple over. Recalling the badly hidden limp at Starbucks, Patrick realized the kid was in bad shape. And if his brother could be believed, it had all happened at the hand of the Shifter.

He glanced at the other two and discovered they were looking at Dean with well hidden concern as well. It was their duel looks of weary compassion that had him suggesting, "You could always go through this down here. No sense lugging it up only to bring it back down again."

Dean regarded the Marshall for a moment. And just like that, in the blink of an eye, Dean locked away all pain and emotion except anger. He slammed the door shut and ordered, "Let's go."

Patrick wasn't about to argue. It was obvious Dean had seen right through his casual comment to the underlying meaning. He had seen plenty of people like Dean – any show of weakness, no matter how small, will not be tolerated. They would sooner run themselves head first into the ground than willingly allow others to witness their lack of ability. So he turned and headed toward the staircase. His apartment was on the third floor. He heard the audible sigh from the taller Winchester before they all started to follow.

By the time they got to the top, Dean was gulping down breaths and fighting to stay on his feet. He took one step at a time, slowly dragging up his bad leg. It felt like an eternity of steps when they finally reached the top.

Still, Patrick ignored him as he continued on along the walkway. "My room's right around this corner."

Sam silently went to help his brother who vainly attempted to shrug him off. Exhaustion was quickly setting in. It only took one faltered step for Dean to finally relent. The trek from the Impala to the Starbucks entrance was only a few yards and a half-step away. And while that was annoying it was close and Dean was just so glad he didn't have to sit in that damn wheelchair any more. However, after walking about 50 yards and climbing 3 flights of steps, Dean could really feel the toll it was taking on his body. Good news was that from the top of the stairs, Patrick's room was literally a few steps away around the corner.

Once the group was inside, Dean grumbled. "This place ever hear of elevators?"

"Sure, but paying for them is a whole other story." Smiling, Patrick placed the box on a small coffee table in front of the couch. "Well, there you go."

Dean flopped down on the couch and relaxed. He didn't even bother reaching for the box. He muttered a quick 'Thanks' and allowed himself a moment to breathe.

"Well, where should we begin?" Patrick asked.

Sam sat on the arm of the couch near his brother. "Could you tell us what happened during the escape? You mentioned seeing it change."

"It was the damndest thing I ever saw. As you guessed, when I was escorting it out he asked to go to the bathroom. We'd been trained for this kind of situation. So I watched him like a hawk and didn't see any sign he was ready to pounce. In fact, when he did turn and hit me, I still had no idea it was coming. Next thing I knew I was kissing tile. Later as I regained my sense, I could hear these awful sounds close by. And when I managed to turn my head and see what was making the noises, I couldn't believe it. It was twisting and turning and ripping skin from it's body. If I wasn't so dumbstruck I probably would have lost my lunch right there.

"A minute or two later and it was done. It turned around and looked right at me. It was like looking into a mirror only a hundred times worse. It didn't seem happy to see me awake because it stomped over and then knocked me back out. Next time I woke, he was gone, I had a massive headache and was stripped of my uniform. The chain and jumper were in a heap next to me and just past that was the pile of skin. That's when I finally lost my lunch." Patrick gave a nervous chuckle.

"After that I quickly got on the overalls and went out to report the escape. That's when they told me that I had left stating that the prisoner transfer was supposed to be tomorrow night not that night. And they let me walk out. Had to leave most of my personal stuff in a locker for the transport which he left behind but I thought it strange that he also didn't used the Police transport. Must of fled on foot."

"Pretty much, found the nearest sewer and took off. He won't be easy to find. We're gonna have to draw him out somehow." Now that Dean had a moment to recover, he leaned forward and opened the box. Inside he found his clothes and a few bags that contained some of his smaller effects. He briefly rummaged through everything. "Son of a bitch!"

Concerned, Sam asked, "What's wrong?"

Dean ignored that question and asked the Marshall one of his own, "Was this everything you got off the shifter?"

"Yeah."

"Dammit."

Again Sam asked, "What's the matter?"

"Bastard still has my necklace." Dean answered with a pointed stare at his brother.

At first Sam didn't understand what Dean was so worked up about and then it hit him. Automatically, he consoled, "We'll get it back dude. Don't worry about it."

Dean still wasn't happy but there wasn't much else he could do about it. He turned back to Patrick a moment later. "And I'm guessing my gun's still in the station lock up?"

"Well of course."

"Great, no way you could get your hands on it could you?"

Shaking his head, Patrick answered, "Not without a lot of questions."

Dean nodded knowingly, but it was worth a shot. "See what you can do when this is all over. For now, we have more Silver bullets in the trunk. Just make sure your shots count," he cautioned.

"Is that how you kill this thing? With Silver bullets?"

Sam's geek-mode kicked in. "Yeah, a number of creatures have a reaction to Silver, I believe it has something to do with the refining process that purifies the metal. Most religions and cultures have a few items that are considered sanctified or pure, most commonly salt, holy water or silver. For Shapeshifters and Werewolves, a Silver bullet to the heart should kill them."

"Thanks for the history lesson geek-boy," Dean interrupted before focusing his energy back on the older man, "Next question, were you able to get copies of the Security Camera tapes?"

At that Patrick smiled, "It's a new age boys, tapes are obsolete. It's all digital now." He pulled a USB drive from his pocket. "Let me hook up the laptop to the TV so you can see it better. Give me a few minutes." Patrick moved around his apartment and pulled out a laptop. He took a wire dangling on the TV stand and plugged the machine in. Apparently, he had done this enough that everything was already in place, just needed to connect a few wires together.

Once the TV was on and projecting the laptop display, he plugged in the thumb drive and let it load the folder. He then reached down into the laptop case and pulled out a small remote. Turning to the waiting group, he finally asked, "So which one you want to see first? Honestly, there isn't much to see on either. They show up for only a brief moment before moving off camera. We've reviewed them a hundred times."

"Well, we'll take another look to be on the safe side. Sometimes fresh eyes can catch things others missed." Dean stated matter-of-factly.

"Whatever."

"Hey, if you've already seen these, perhaps it would be best for you to pack while we check them out." Sam offered.

Patrick nodded and was about to head back into his bedroom when he paused. He looked at the two brothers. "You guys do this sort of thing all the time? Take out monsters?"

"Dean, more than me. I've been chasing a college degree for the past few years." Sam answered sincerely.

Patrick watched Sam for a moment then turned to Dean. "You said, this thing knows everything about me and will use that against me, right? You told me you can take this thing out. And you also said my family was safe right now, but can you guarantee it?"

Sam stood up, placing himself slightly in front of his brother protectively. "Dean and my Dad are the best at what they do and they don't leave jobs hanging."

Dean pushed himself up and off the couch, stepping around Sammy and met Patrick's ice blue gaze. "I swear to you on my life, I am going to find and kill this thing. I won't let this thing hurt any more innocent people, including your family. I promise." The elder Winchester vowed with such conviction that Patrick only nodded and then left the room.

Dean's eyes followed the Marshall out of the room and then he slowly sank back down into the couch, conscious of his aching knee.

Sam watched Dean carefully. He couldn't count how many times he had heard those words from his brother; I promise. Those words were meant to comfort. And for a long time, they did. Now they weighed heavily on his heart, because Sam knew what those words really meant. Dean would uphold his promise no matter the cost. In Sam's mind, Dean had already paid enough for protecting the world, and he just wasn't sure how much more his brother could take.

Despite looking a hundred times better than he had in the sewers, Dean was still far from recovered. Oh his brother was a master at hiding pain, even surpassed their father in that department. So it was easy to forget at times that Dean was still in no condition to hunt. But Sam also knew that for Dean, the hunt always came first. Only after it was all over would his brother finally take a step back to recoup.

Sam's only hope now was to find the bastard and take it out quickly. Sighing, Sam noticed his brother watching him. "What?"

Scowling, Dean didn't bother to hide his irritation. "I'm fine, Sam. Let's just get to work."

"Yeah, ok." Sam agreed. He hated how well Dean could read him even after so much time apart. Unfortunately, he would have to save his musing for later. They had work to do.

- S – P – N – S – P – N –

Another installment down, hope you all liked it. And thank you all soooo much for all the wonderful comments this week! I cannot begin to express how awesome you all are! This fic has hit triple digits which is incredible. Keep up the encouragement and I'll keep plugging away at those chapters for you. Much love for you all.

Now a quick Author's Note: The Marshal's "shifts" is a complete fabrication on my part. We were having a church picnic once and one of the people that was invited was a deputy for the Sheriff that covers that area. He declined the invite stating that he could not go to a place he patrolled in plain clothes because it could compromise his job. People he may have busted in the park might recognize him and retaliate. And if he was in plain clothes he had no jurisdiction to act against them. I found the situation fascinating and wondered why something like that wasn't set in place for high risk law officials like Marshals, Judges and Feds. So I decided as part of my plot to put it in place here. Just thought I should share that with you.

Also, last week I was on a bit of a low. But with the nice huge moon this week and your awesome reviews, things have looked up a lot. The puppy is even doing better. Looks like we're going to work through the issues and keep the pup for now.

Now for my shout outs! Lobita – Aww, thank you so much for speaking for those lurkers out there. I must confess to being a lurker myself some times, so I understand. Thanks again for reminding me. ;) Anon – No, normal evil is boring and over done. ;) We'll just have to wait and see what the muse has in store for the Shifter. I wouldn't say that. Let's just say the Shifter has options at the moment. We'll just have to hope when he is one of the brothers that Winchester luck does rub off on him. Thanks, it's fun writing their banter and yeah it's good Jenn is there to step in on occasion. And we know how much Dean respects law officials, so I felt it fitting. Let's just hope the Marshal is willing to work with the boys to take it out. Thanks again for reviewing! Sweetpea – Thank you so much! I'm glad you are enjoying my little fic here. :D

As always thank you all for the reviews, faves and alerts! The statwhore in me is loving the attention, LOL. I know the action in this chap isn't too thrilling, just give me a few more chaps and I promise to kick it up a gear soon.

Oh! I almost forgot. I have a number of AU Plot bunnies breeding on my farm and they are making it impossible to pick one to develop. In fact I have several already started and a few more waiting in the wings but I just don't see how I'm going to get through them all. I was wondering if I were to post them anywhere if people might be willing to adopt some. Or at best I can offer to co-write or consult on some. Unfortunately, I just don't see myself completing many of them and I know how much I would love to read some rather than write them. I was considering posting the bunnies on my secondary Live journal account; musing_grounds; but if anyone knows of a better place I would appreciate the help. :)

Wow, sorry, this tag got the better of me. So I think it is time to wrap this up. See you all next week!

~Ari :D