"Benigan?" Sam made the connection, "Isn't that …"

But Dean cut him off. "Deacon," He gestured for the guard to come in, "Close the door."

Ben looked from one to the other of them, from the look of determination on Dean's face to Sam's frown. He slid up from the wall nervously as Deacon stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him.

Ben held up his hands, "Hey, look guys," He said, voice trembling. "I thought you guys were okay. I'm just gonna go now, alright?"

"You're not going anywhere." Dean growled. "Your mother? Leslie Benigan?"

Ben froze. "What?"

"You're the dead son? The one that died in an avalanche in Utah?" Dean asked.

Ben paled, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Is your mother Leslie Benigan?"

"How do you know that?"

Sam had to retrieve his jaw from the floor, "Ben, tell us how you ended up here. Please."

Ben swallowed hard. "No. I'm not telling you anything." He turned to Deacon. "Let me out."

Silence fell, but Deacon never moved from the door.

"Okay then. I'll tell you how I got here." Sam said softly. "My dad … he started dating a woman named Leslie Benigan. She seemed nice, but then I started having … accidents. She … she backed a car into me and ran into me with a hot skillet. She dropped a China cabinet on my toe."

Ben paled.

"Then, I got arrested by accident. It was just a silly mistake, but Leslie … she told the cop she was my legal guardian and told them she wanted me sent here. Then my file somehow got mixed up with some serial killer who liked hurting animals. They got it straightened out and Dad got me out of here, but then a dog was hurt and a bomb went off and the guy might die, and she offered to pay some boy's way through college if he lied and said I did it. So now I'm here. And it's her fault. She did this to me. And my lawyer … my lawyer says we have to find her missing son because he might be able to testify if she's done stuff like this before."

Ben slid back down the wall, his body trembling. He shook his head like he didn't believe what he was hearing.

"No … Sam … just … no." He whispered.

Dean studied the boy who looked like he'd just seen an unwelcome ghost from his past. "She did the same thing to you, didn't she?"

Deacon stepped forward and put his hand on Ben's shoulder. He shook his head at Dean. "That's enough conversation. You boys need your lawyers before anything else is said in this room." He reached down a hand and pulled Ben up. "I'm taking you back to your room now, Ben. And I'm calling both of your lawyers. No more talking about this between the three of you, you hear me?"

###

Sam sat beside Dell in a courtroom that bore no resemblance to his last appearance. It was himself, Dell, John, Dean, Bobby and the courtroom staff. No spectators. The prosecution had dropped the hate crime and terror charges, and all that remained was the charge of animal cruelty, but Dell assured them it was only a formality.

The judge suddenly addressed him.

"Samuel, it is apparent to me that a gross miscarriage of justice has occurred to you in my courtroom, and it's with the utmost regret that I apologize on behalf of the state of California. What happened to you should never happen to anyone, especially someone of such a tender age. And I assure you that I'll do my utmost to see that it never happens again. That being said, will you please stand and face The Bench?"

Sam and Dell rose.

"Samuel Winchester, the remaining charge of cruelty against an animal is dropped. Charges are dismissed. You're free to go." She dropped her gavel, and with it, all of Sam's sadness and stress of the last few months fell away. He turned and leaned into Dell's hug. Sam laughed as he felt the familiar thumps on his back from John and Bobby, and then Dean was there, and Sam grabbed him and pulled him tight.

"Thanks, big brother. I probably wouldn't even be here for this if it wasn't for you." He whispered, his voice breaking with emotion.

Dean hugged him back like he never wanted to let him go. "Shut it, you little bitch. It's my job, and you know it."

###

"They got her."

At John's proclamation, the kitchen fell silent.

Sam and Dean had been home for only half a day, when John turned from his phone and dropped the bombshell - Leslie Benigan was in custody. In exchange for her cooperation, Dell said the state was working with her to prosecute her accomplice, a much bigger fish. The judge who'd expunged Sam's record initially, in the hopes of covering his tracks, was also the one responsible for switching out the information in Sam's file with that of the convicted serial killer. Apparently, he'd done it before. And not only had it led to Sam's arrest, but it had also set the other man free early. In the interim, he'd killed two more people.

"She ain't getting off, surely?" Bobby asked, slamming his beer on the table.

John shook his head. "Dell says she's looking at a possible death sentence for the hate crime and the bomb. Mr. Martin's dead, after all, and it was her bomb that killed him. He says if she cooperates, she might get life instead."

Dean grinned, shoulder-bumping his kid brother. "How 'bout that, Sam? That white-hot bitch locked in irons, walking into a courtroom packed with people who hate her? I hope she gets the cup of piss right in her ugly face." The older boy would never forgive what his kid brother had been forced to endure because of one woman's obsession.

Sam smiled faintly, then glanced at his father. He cleared his throat. "You, uh … you okay, Dad?" He asked, remembering that John had once thought he loved Leslie. In Sam's lap, Shallie gave the boy a comforting lick on the arm.

John looked startled. Then he smiled, reclaiming his seat next to Sam at the table. "Why wouldn't I be, son? My boys are here. They're safe. That's the only thing that matters, Sam." He suddenly pulled the younger boy into an awkward hug. "God, I'm so sorry Sammy. Everything you went through … I brought that woman … that evil … into this house. And we almost lost you because of it."

"It's okay, Dad." Sam struggled with his voice, unaccustomed to such displays of affection from the stoic John Winchester.

Across the table, Bobby and Dean exchanged amused glances.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but that news sure helped my appetite." Dean said, reaching for another pile of Bobby's famous scrambled eggs.

John snorted, drawing away. He took a swipe at his eyes. "Well there's a newsflash."

Sam grinned happily, as he watched his brother reach for the eggs. Dean glanced over at him suspiciously. "What?"

Sam shrugged, scratching Shallie's ear absently. "Just remembering the last time you had a plate of scrambled eggs in front of you. Maybe you'll actually get to eat them this time. You know, instead of using them to decorate some dude's face."

Dean paused, considering. Then he shrugged. "Dude had it coming. Felt damned good too."

John studied his older boy. "That the altercation Deacon was telling us about? He said you lost it pretty good. What'd the guy say anyway?"

Dean and Sam froze, eyes locked. Then Dean shrugged, "He wanted to buy something I wasn't sellin'."

John's eyes narrowed and he glanced at Bobby, a silent communication passing between the two older men.

"Dean." John suddenly spoke, his voice thick with emotion.

The older boy looked up from his eggs, wary. He was totally prepared to lie to his father, to his unofficial uncle, to anyone who asked, to spare his brother the embarrassment and humiliation of what that particular day had caused him.

"What, Dad?"

But John only smiled. "You're a hell of a good man, son. I hope you know that."

Author's Note: Not the ending. Not even close :) Thanks to everyone who's hanging in there with me. Loving your feedback!