"Sam," Becky cried, tears glistening in her eyes as she flung herself on the taller Winchester. Baffled, Sam looked to his brother. "Thank you!" She squeezed him tighter then released him. Turning to look at Dean, there was some hesitation before she added, "And thank you too."

Now both brothers were completely confused. "Uh, you're welcome, Becky." Sam answered. "But what are you thanking us for?"

"You haven't heard the news? It's all over the TV." She grabbed for the remote from one of the tables and turned on the small set up in the corner of the room.

"..ice are referring to the murderer as a Copy Cat killer. We will talk with David Heeler right after the break, who will be reporting live from the Precinct where local authorities have found and killed the serial killer who has affected countless lives with his crimes. This is Amanda Blessing of Channel 4 news. Continuing coverage of this breaking news when we come back." A series of commercials followed. Becky huffed and put the set on mute.

"They caught the guy who killed Emily. The Police said they are going to re-open all the cases they think were connected to this chameleon killer and probably clear their names, including Zach's."

"That's great, I'm glad to hear that Zach will be free soon. But why thank us?"

"You're lady friend and some Marshal showed up this morning and explained what happened last night and how you were both instrumental in finding this shapeshifter. Now that it is dead, I was free to go home and wait for Zach's release. They told me you were in the hospital and I had to come see you."

"Shapeshifter?" Dean spoke for the first time, his eyes bouncing between Becky and Sam. "You know it was a shapeshifter?"

Sam looked sheepishly at his brother. "Yeah, I kind of explained it when I was looking for you."

Becky met Dean's eyes and she forced a smile. "I'm sorry, it's still really hard to differentiate you from the creature in my mind. But I can see you were just as much a victim as I was. I'm sorry he got you too. But I'm also very grateful that you and Sam were able to stop it. I don't know what would have happened to Zach if you hadn't."

"All in a day's work." Dean smirked.

"Well, I got to go. I need to make some arrangements to have the house cleaned. My parents should be back tomorrow. I don't want them to see the mess that monster made." She hugged Sam once more and patted Dean's leg. "Thanks again."

"See ya around, Becky."

"Yeah, I'll let you know if Zach and I decide to go back to school or not. See ya."

After the door clicked closed behind her, the brothers shared a meaningful glance. A silent conversation passed between them. Then Dean reached for the remote and un-muted the TV.

Together the pair watched the latest news reports that were trickling in about the Chameleon Killer. About an hour later, a Police Officer came to take the boy's official statements. As soon as they were done, Dean started pestering for AMA papers. He was ready to leave.

-SPN-

Unfortunately for Dean, Dr. Favreau anticipated his request and left strict orders not to release Dean until they had spoken. While they waited Dean prepared for his imminent departure much to Sam's annoyance. But the younger Winchester's tune changed when a reporter tried forcing an interview. How the reporter managed to figure out they were involved, they didn't know. But it didn't matter.

It was time to leave and still they were trapped. Even more so since the Officer was posted at the door for their 'protection.' Based upon their Police interview, it was apparent that Dean's heroic efforts to help take out the chameleon killer were not enough to wipe his slate clean.

The Winchesters were in the midst of planning their breakout when the door opened. Dr. Favreau regarded the duo before perching down on the edge of Dean's bed. He noted that his patient was sitting on top of the sheets, back in street clothes and looking extremely unhappy. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Had an emergency earlier today that kept me tied up til now."

"Well, I'm ready to go, doc. Mind giving me my papers?" Dean demanded.

"I held you up for a reason, Dean. I need an answer before I let you leave this hospital."

"You said I have time before I have to make a decision. That you wouldn't do anything until the swelling was down any way. Why do you need one?"

"Because I want to give you a treatment plan, but I can't do that unless I know what you plan to do. And I'm not talking about surgery and recovery, I'm talking about meds and physical therapy too. I had planned to have you start PT at the end of this week, but with you leaving I know that won't happen."

"Yeah, well, we got places to be."

"So what I would like to do is provide you with a treatment plan that you can take to your regular doctor. I can include it with our discharge papers or I can forward it if you provide me with the Practice information and your Primary Care Physician's name."

Scoffing, Dean began, "Well, that's not going to be possible…"

"Yet, because we have to set one up once we get back home." Sam interrupted his brother.

"So you'll be heading out of state then?" Dr. Favreau directed his question to the younger Winchester.

"Yeah, I'm going to take care of him until he can get back on his feet, literally. So we'll be heading back to Stanford. Once I get him added to my insurance and we set up a PCP, I can have them contact you to get the file. Would that be ok?"

"That would work. But I'm still going to prep some prescriptions and give you some exercises you can do to help strengthen that knee until you can see your doctor. I'll get everything drawn up and have the nurse bring it in."

Both brothers thanked the doctor who remained where he was. Curious, Dean asked, "Something else you wanted to say, doc?"

"I was wondering if I could speak with you privately, Dean."

Glancing at his brother, Dean decided they had enough time away. "What's on your mind?" Sam settled in his chair, his attention on the doctor.

Emry sighed. He knew that the material he wanted to discuss was very private. But he could also see the resolution in both men that they were staying. Submitting to Dean's implied permission, he forged ahead. "Dean, I would like to offer you my professional opinion to further supplement treatment regarding your experiences here as well as previous trauma."

"You wanna run that by me again in English?"

"I've worked ER for many years and I've seen a lot of horrific things. And in assault cases we are required to be very thorough to avoid missing pertinent information that could be used during an investigation. As an organization, we do not make any assumptions toward lifestyle and sexual preference even though we may be required to document our observations.

"Mr. Winchester, we have eluded to your occupation previously and while our assumptions have neither been confirmed nor denied, we can only speculate on our observations. It is often best to compile as much data as possible to fully treat our patients in all aspects. And though you are not required to disclose anything, I would like to ask you a few questions. I won't force an answer but I would also appreciate as much honesty as you are willing to give."

As Dr. Favreau spoke, Sam noticed Dean's complexion get whiter and whiter. And from what he was gathering the man was trying to gently imply, Sam could feel his own face drain of color.

Dean's voice was low and quiet. "What kind of questions?"

"Just a few standard questions. Would you prefer to continue in private?"

Yes! Dean wanted to scream, but he could see the look on his little brother's face. There was no way he was getting Sam out of the room. Besides, even if he did manage it, Sam would pester him until he told him what they discussed. May as well get it all over at once, like ripping off a band-aid. "Shoot, doctor."

Clearing his throat, he focused on his patient. "Ok, can you please provide your occupation?"

"Mechanic." Dean responded. But Favreau regarded him with disbelieving eyes. Still, as promised the doctor didn't push.

"Do you participate in any extreme sports or hobbies?"

"Hunting. The occasional bar fight."

"Drugs or Alcohol?"

"No, and yes. Have a beer now and then, nothing too extreme."

"Good. Now please answer as truthfully as you can. These next few questions can be rough. I'm not here to judge you, Dean. I just need to assess how best to help you. Understand?" Dean gave a slow, jerky nod. "As a child, have you ever been abused physically?"

"Our father never laid a finger on us." Dean ground out. Suddenly he felt like he was twelve again talking with Social Services.

"That's good to hear, but that still doesn't answer my question."

"We moved around a lot as kids. Got into a couple fights. Sucks always being the new kid."

Once again, Dr. Favreau considered his charge thoughtfully. After a pregnant moment, he pressed on, "And as an adult, you ever deal with any type of physical abuse?"

Dean glared daggers at the man. "No," he bit out through clenched teeth.

"Easy, Dean, I told you, I'm not here to judge. Let's move on, shall we? Have you ever been tested for HIV or other STD's?"

"Yes, negative."

"Good." Then with as much sympathy and understanding he could convey, Emry asked, "Would you like us to run the tests again, in light of recent events?"

At this question, Dean could feel Sam's startled gaze watching him. But he didn't turn to look at him. Instead, he simply answered, "No." Sam's subsequent sigh told Dean they would have a conversation about this again later. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"Last question, Dean." Emry cleared his throat and softened his tone just a touch more. He chose his words carefully, knowing from past experience that men in general do not react well to this particular inquiry. And he imagined with such a strong and dominating personality as Dean had, his reaction could be more volatile than most. "Uh hmm, yes, uh, Dean, your recent intimate relationships, were any of them un-welcomed or un-solicited?"

It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did, Dean sprung up from the bed practically growling, "No." But the tremor that coursed through his body – that had nothing to do with his knee – provided a clearer answer.

Sadly, the Doctor nodded. He held up a placating hand, which only infuriated the older Winchester further, along with his false sympathy. "It' ok, Dean. There's n-"

"I said nothing happened!" Dean protested vehemently. "No one did anything to me. I'm fine."

Emry continued to talk his patient away from the virtual edge with a smooth and gentle tone. "We believe you, Dean. Nothing happened."

But hearing the empty words hurt more than Dean expected. It was ok for him to lie; to protect those around him from the truth when he knew the truth would only hurt them. To cushion the blow with half truths. To say words that were hollow even though deep down they all knew. To be on the receiving end of such artificial concern was new to Dean. And it felt wrong. The false words felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.

All the fight and anger washed away from the frigid cleansing. His legs threatened to fall out from under him. Desperately, he grabbed the edge of the bed and locked his good knee to keep him standing. A jolt of pain shot up his bad knee. Gasping, he clenched his eyes shut and focused on the rhythmic task of breathing.

From behind, Dean could hear Sam surge to his feet, his own name slipping worriedly from his brother's lips. Eyes closed, he could still sense his brother's towering figure hovering close but not daring to touch him. Dean wasn't sure if his brother's hesitation was because he worried he might not be welcomed or because Dean disgusted him. A shiver ran up his spine. He couldn't blame Sam if he the latter were true. He already hated himself, this would simply complete the circle. His brother would see him for what he truly was. Broken.

Another tense moment passed. And again, Sam softly called his brother. "Dean." So many emotions packed into the one word. Fear. Worry. Compassion. – Pity.

No! Dean's mind wanted to scream but he couldn't breathe. A frantic gulp for air, as he sucked in precious oxygen to fill his seized lungs. He couldn't accept Pity. Not from anyone. And especially not from Sam. He didn't deserve their pity. Not now. Not ever.

"Dean!" Sam shouted when he saw his brother struggling for breath. Unable to stand by and watch, he closed the distance between them and put his hands on his brother's shoulders. He needed the contact. To make sure his brother was there and would be all right.

A few steps away, Favreau was stunned by the sudden change of events. Perhaps his patient wasn't ready to leave yet. This could be the onset of a panic attack. And with Dean's stubbornness and strength, he knew he was not prepared to handle the situation by himself. Quickly, he announced, "I'll get help."

"No!" This time Dean managed to get the word past his lips. "Don't need help. I'm fine."

"No you're not, Dean," Sam fervently denied.

"I am, Sam." As if to prove his point, Dean took in a shuddering gulp of air, followed by a steadier breath. Then another. His body finding the rhythm easier now. Opening his eyes, he looked over his shoulder to his not-so-little brother and locked gazes. "I will be, Sammy, I will be."

"Are you sure?" The doctor asked as he took a hesitant step closer to the pair.

"Yes."

"And you're still planning on leaving?"

This time both brothers firmly answered, "Yes."

"So be it. I'll have the nurse finish drawing up the paperwork for you." Instead of stepping away from the brothers, he boldly took a step forward. "Dean, I do want to help you. I'm adding to my notes that you seek professional help to deal with the emotional trauma."

"I'm not crazy," Dean bit out. His head snapped around to glare daggers at the man.

Smiling wryly, Emry assured the young man. "I never said you were. It's just you have obviously been through a harrowing experience recently, as well as older trauma. Sometimes having an impartial ear to listen is the best medicine. I can't force you to go, but I strongly suggest it."

This time however, it was the taller Winchester who responded. "Noted, Doctor. And we will discuss it at length during our drive back to Stanford. In the meantime, how about those papers?"

"Of course." The doctor knew when he was dismissed and he also knew how to pick his battles. He got further in his conversation than he thought he would when he stepped in to the room. Perhaps he managed to slip something in there to help his patient. With his hand on the door, he hesitated. "Take care of yourself, Mr. Winchester. And take care of your brother, it is obvious that you mean the world to each other. It would be a shame to lose either of you." And with that he gave a quick nod of good-bye and left the boys.

The brothers glanced at each other awkwardly. The doctor's farewell had been both pointed and ambiguous at the same time. Which brother was he talking to exactly? The man's eyes had moved between them frequently as he spoke which made it harder to know who he was talking to. Silently, each decided to take the man's words to heart and left it at that.

Brow furrowed in worry, Sam urged his brother, "Why don't you sit back down until the papers arrive?"

"I think I've had enough sitting. I want out of this room." Dean glanced up at his brother. "I need out of this room."

"Soon, man, soon."

Thoughtful silence fell over the room while the brother's held their positions. No more than ten minutes could have passed when Dean grumbled, "What's taking so long?"

"Dude, relax. This is a hospital, unless it's a real emergency nothing happens fast. Remember?"

"Whatever. They got 5 more minutes before I'm walking out that door, with or without those papers."

"Fine. Five more minutes," Sam agreed.

Suddenly, the door flew open and abruptly slammed shut again. Just inside, Jenn stood behind the Marshal watching the door with trepidation while Patrick glared at the boys, hurriedly, "It's time to go boys. Now!"

- S – P – N – S – P – N –

Well, sorry for the late post! I hope you all enjoyed it. Sorry if anything is still a bit off. I didn't get a chance to really proof this chap at work because of a power outage. And I couldn't get to it until much later. Then I was fending off sleep. –yawn- Still am actually.

Either way, it's now posted. I wish everyone a Happy 4th tomorrow!

Until next week,

~Ari :D