Thank you Jenjoremy for beta'ing and generally being awesome. You're a star. Thank you Gredelina1 for being the best cheerleader I've ever had. Thank you all for reading.

I am guessing most of you have Twitter or Facebook and saw the news already, but I thought I would put out an update and share for those of you that haven't seen it. Jared, Jensen and Misha posted a video a little while ago announcing that Season Fifteen will be the last season of Supernatural. It's a really beautiful video and you should check any of the three of them out on Twitter to see it. If you did know, sorry for repeating. If you didn't, I'm sorry. I think we're all feeling the same way right now.

Clowns or Midgets xxx

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sam felt nervous out on the streets. There was a smell of smoke in the air, and when Sam looked up at the rooftops, he saw billowing black clouds. The city was burning. Homes and businesses were being destroyed. Sam imagined Missouri and George watching the news and knowing that he and James were trapped there. He hoped they had faith in him to get them back home safely.

People were everywhere, but none of them looked like they needed help. They were happy smashing windows and slugging back bottles of liquor. Sam went left up the street, past his wrecked rental, and searched the storefronts for what he needed.

He had decided that he was going to concentrate on preparing the place before bringing people in. Once they were there, it would be harder for him to go out again. He didn't want to leave James and Chrissy vulnerable without him. He needed to get everything he could on as few trips as he could and then hope the rest came to him.

He turned a corner and saw a drug store. Sighing with relief, he checked around for people looking at him then ducked up the alley beside the store. He wanted what was inside, but he didn't want people following him in and looting if he could help it, though he supposed a drug store would be lucky if it made it out of this without being plundered.

He found a door that was reinforced with kick plates, but the lock looked standard, and he bent down and inserted his picking tools. It took him a minute to find the catch, and then the door clicked open and he slipped inside. He had come into what looked like a staff break room. There was a small kitchenette and table and chairs. Sam walked through it and into a larger space. There were shelves upon shelves of boxes and packages, all labeled and neatly lined up.

Sam saw everything that he could need on offer, and he breathed a sigh of relief that caught in his throat as he heard the click of a gun's safety being disengaged. A light flipped on above him and a cold voice said, "Put your hands up and turn around."

Sam obeyed slowly, turning on his heel to face the woman aiming her revolver at him. She was older than Sam. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a braid that fell over her shoulder. Her blue eyes were fixed on Sam, and the hand that held the gun was shaking.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Sam said.

"No, you're just here to rob me."

"It's not like that," Sam said. "I am here to take stuff, yes, but I have money. I was going to leave it by the register for you. I just need some supplies."

"I don't have the kind of drugs you'd want," she said.

"I'm not here to steal drugs."

Sam stared into her eyes, trying to communicate his sincerity. He felt vulnerable with his hands held up. He was fast, but he wouldn't be able to pull his gun before she got a shot off, and going back to the motel covered in blood would freak James out, perhaps more than ever when he saw Sam had no wounds for it to have come from.

"Let me explain," he said.

"You have thirty seconds, and if I don't like what I hear, I'm pulling the trigger," she said.

Sam swallowed hard. "Me and my friend are in a hotel around the corner. We were shot off the road and so we hid there. I saw a woman in the night going along the street, bleeding. I took her in and cleaned her up. She's okay now. I want to help others, too. There are people trapped in the city because they came into something they didn't understand. If I can get them inside somewhere safe, I can protect them. I need supplies as people are going to come in injured. I only have a basic first aid kit and–"

"Time's up," she snapped.

Sam held his breath, waiting for the shot to come. It didn't. For a long moment, she just stared at him and then she lowered her gun.

"I believe you."

"Thank you," Sam said fervently, slowly lowering his arms.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Sam Taylor. I'm from Kansas."

"So, what are you, Sam Taylor? Cop or fire fighter?"

Sam smiled slightly. "I'm a foreman for a construction company."

"How did you end up here?"

"My friend came for the verdicts and I was worried about him so I came, too. He just wanted to see justice done, but he got caught up in this whole thing. I think a lot of people did. Those are the people I want to help."

She nodded thoughtfully. "We better get you set up with what you need then." She set her gun down on a counter and walked around a set of shelves, coming back with two blue plastic crates. She set them down and began to gather things from the shelves. "You're going to want bandages and gauze," she said. "And some painkillers might be helpful." She stopped and turned to him. "Come on then. You want to help these people, you're going to need supplies. Just load a crate with whatever you need."

"Thank you," Sam said fervently. "I'll pay for whatever I take."

"No need," she said. "I have insurance. You can be a looter. Save your money for what matters."

Sam could have explained he had plenty of money for both, but he didn't. The fact she was willing to do this for him was more than he could have hoped for, and he didn't want to take the generous gesture away from her.

He grabbed packs of dressings from the shelves as she sorted through boxes of medication and tucked them into the crates. Sam felt like a kid in a candy store, free to take whatever he needed, and he took what he thought would help. He had no idea how many people he would find and what injuries he would face, but he was going to take as much as he could in case there were a lot.

When the crates were loaded with things, she stacked them and gestured to Sam. "Load up. We've got people to help."

"We?"

"I'm coming with you," she stated as if it was obvious.

"No," Sam said. "You should stay here and guard your store."

She shook her head. "My father was an army medic. He wouldn't be able to look at me if he knew I was protecting money when there were people out there that needed me. We'll go to this hotel of yours. Besides, like I said, I'm insured, and now I've been looted by you, maybe that's my lot."

Sam lifted the crates in his arms and nodded. "Let's go then." He walked through the break room and out of the back door to the alley. She followed him out and then closed the door tightly behind her.

As they set off along the alley toward the street she said, "By the way, I'm May Thurston."

"Nice to meet you, May," Sam said. "And thank you for this."

"You're welcome," she said. "Let's go save some lives."

Sam was feeling positive as he turned the corner to the hotel and moved along the street without people approaching him, a feeling that disappeared entirely as turned the corner and saw the hotel door held open. Anton was just inside, gesticulating wildly at James and Chrissy who both looked upset. Sam rushed forward and set the crates down.

"What's going on here?" Sam asked.

"He wants us to leave," James said.

Sam turned his glare on Anton. "We're not going anywhere."

"This is my hotel. I demand that you leave. They say you're bringing more people here. I heard them. You cannot bring rioters into my hotel. They will destroy the place. You must leave."

"We will not," Sam said firmly.

"I have to defend my business!"

"You have to defend people first!" James said angrily. "I already said I'd make sure you were paid for any damage. This isn't about money. This is about you being scared. Being scared doesn't make you bad, but kicking us out and stopping us helping people that need it does."

Anton flushed with color. "I am not a bad man."

"Then don't make a bad man's choice," Sam said.

"You cannot stay," he said, though his voice was quieter now.

Sam didn't know what to do. They needed the hotel both for themselves and for others. If they were kicked out, they'd be unprotected, and they wouldn't be able to help anyone.

"The hell with this," May said. She pulled her gun and aimed it at Anton who paled and held up his hands. "I know you Anton Rose, and I know the kind of man you are. I fill your prescriptions for you, and you always complain about the price. These people are trying to help others, and they're willing to pay you for it. Do something good and help them. Do it by choice and we'll make this hotel famous as one that saved people when the riots came. Make us force you, I will make sure every one of your neighbors knows you are a coward that refused to help people that were desperate."

Anton was defeated, and they all knew it, but he obviously still had pride and he looked at Sam and asked. "You will pay?"

"I promise we will pay," Sam said. "You already have my credit card. I told you to charge what you wanted on that, and I will make good on anything that doesn't cover."

Anton nodded slowly. "Okay. Fine."

"Good," May said, tucking her gun away again. "Stay and help if you can, Anton. If you can't, find somewhere out of the way to hide. We're going to be busy." Without waiting for him to obey, she turned to Sam and said. "You get out there and start finding people. We'll get everything set up."

Sam nodded. "Thank, May."

"Sam…" James said quietly.

"I'll be fine," Sam reassured. "I'm not staying out long. I have another idea." Without giving James further chance to argue, he walked away along the street and turned right toward the main road through the city.

The damage in Sam's street was minimal compared to what he saw deeper in the city. People were running amok. Stores were burning, most had busted windows and there were burned out husks of cars in the middle of the road, some still smoldering. There were people all across the streets, running, fighting, standing in groups, some even sitting on the curb and sharing a bottle of vodka. Most of them were armed. Sam had never seen anything like it. In one night, they had turned LA into a war zone. The worst part was that this was a war they were enjoying. This was their own city they were burning, and there could be no victor. It would carry on until the police and military took control again, and the damage would cost over a billion dollars to repair.

He looked up and down the street for what he needed, his eyes falling on a hardware store. Keeping his head down and not making eye contact with anyone, he made his way over to it, skirting a crowd of men and women that were jostling each other and joking around.

The store had already been looted, and Sam climbed through the broken window and into the store. There was a smell of chemicals in the air, and the floor was puddled with what looked like water but Sam guessed was something more sinister. He stepped carefully around it and walked along the aisles, looking for what he needed.

There was a rack of spray paints near the register, and Sam grabbed one in bright red then carried it back to the window. He climbed out and started along the street. He passed the crowd and one of the men turned to look at him. "Hey, look at that," he said, pointing at the can in Sam's hands. "Bama's gonna tag the city."

Sam ducked his head and made to walk away.

"You too good to talk to me, Bama?" the man asked, following him and grabbing his arm.

Sam allowed himself to be turned. He didn't want to fight. Even though he knew he could defeat his man in a hand to hand or with weapons, even if his friends joined in, since Michael had made him essentially untouchable, he wanted to get through this calmly.

"I just want to help people," he said. "I'm going to set somewhere up for first aid. That's all. I don't want trouble."

"You're in the wrong city if you don't want trouble," the man said, running his hand over his shorn head. "LA is all about trouble right now."

"I've seen," Sam said. "People are being hurt. I want to help them."

The man laughed. "Bama wants to be a hero."

"Don't be a dick, Drew," one of the other men said. "Maybe he can help Rhiannon."

Sam turned to him. "You've got someone here that needs help?"

"Yeah. My girlfriend got burned when the car went up. I'm worried about her."

Sam would have pointed out that he couldn't be that worried if he was here on the street with his buddies instead of taking care of her, but he didn't want to anger them. He just wanted to get to the girl that needed his help.

"Where is she?" Sam asked.

"In the diner," he said, gesturing down the street. "I'll show you."

Sam nodded and followed him down the street to a diner that was emblazoned with the name 'Wally's Waffles'. The door had been broken open, but the windows were still intact. Sam went inside and saw three women sitting at one of the booths. One of them was cradling her arm against her chest, and her face was tear streaked.

"Rhiannon?" he asked as he approached.

She looked at him suspiciously. "Yeah?"

"He's here to help you," her boyfriend said.

"At least someone is, Theo," one of the girls said with heavy emphasis, glaring at the man that had brought Sam in.

The man, Theo, scowled, but didn't speak.

Sam fixed his attention on Rhiannon. "I'm Sam. Can I see your arm?"

She held out her arm and Sam saw the skin was reddened and sore. It hadn't blistered, though, and he thought that, while it would be painful, it wasn't too serious.

"Okay," Sam said. "Have you cooled it?"

"I held it under the water for a few minutes," she said.

"That's good," Sam said. "We'll cool it a little more though. It will feel better." He turned to Theo. "Can you go to the kitchen and see if they have any Saran wrap?"

"Saran wrap?" he asked doubtfully.

"Trust me," Sam said.

"Okay," he said slowly, turning and walking away.

Sam thought he was making a good show as a boyfriend now, despite the fact he had left her before.

He turned to one of the women. "I need a cold compress. Can you find me a clean towel or cloth and soak it in cool water?"

"Sure." She patted Rhiannon's shoulder and then got up from the table and went through to the back.

"I'm going to wrap it and cool it here, and then I'd like you to come with me to the place we're setting up. You can lie down there and rest. You'll be safe. We have painkillers, too."

"Painkillers sound good," she said.

"I bet."

"Here. I got it," Theo said in a voice that made Sam think he was expecting praise.

Sam set the paint down on the table then took the roll of plastic wrap from him and pulled off a long piece. "Okay, Rhiannon, this may hurt a little at first, but once we're cooling it down, it will feel better. I'm just going to wrap it around the burn."

"You're going to put that around me?" she asked doubtfully.

"It'll help," Sam promised. He took her wrist gently and stretched out her arm then carefully wrapped the plastic around the burn. She flinched and a tear slipped from her eye, but she didn't pull away from him.

Her friend came back with a wet towel and gave it to Sam with a short laugh. "Wow, Rhiannon, you look like leftovers."

Rhiannon laughed wetly, and Sam smiled.

He handed her the towel and said, "Hold this against the burn. It will keep it cool, and that'll take away some of the pain. Now, what are the rest of you planning next? Are any of you close to home or a safe place you can go?"

"No," Theo said. "We bussed in."

"Okay. There is a place I can take you where you can be safe, but it you're coming, you've got to leave any weapons you have outside."

The girls nodded but Theo looked unsure. "What about the heat you're packing?" he asked Sam.

"I trust myself to only use it if I have to," Sam said. "I don't trust you."

"I'm coming," Rhiannon said. "I don't have any weapons."

Sam nodded. "And the rest of you?"

The girls all nodded, but Theo continued to look mutinous.

"It's your choice," Sam said. "You can come with me and be safe, or you can stay out here and enjoy the riot."

"I'll stay, thanks," Theo said.

One of Rhiannon's friends scoffed and Rhiannon looked hurt. She quickly schooled her features into an indifferent expression and raised her chin. "Fine. But you and me are over, Theo. I don't want an idiot that wants his knife more than he wants me."

"Good for you," one of the girls cheered while the one that had brought the towel wrapped an arm around Rhiannon's shoulders.

Theo's cheeks flushed, and his tone was bitter as he said. "It's your loss, bitch."

"Let's go," Sam said, picking up the paint can and gesturing for them to follow.

He led them outside and along the street. He stopped on the corner and pointed down the street. "It's the Hotel Montefort. Tell them Sam sent you and I will be there soon."

The three girls walked along the street, Rhiannon nestled between them. Sam watched them go and then turned to the wall. He uncapped one of the cans of paint and spayed the wall of the building with a large cross. He overlaid it and extended it, making it as large and obvious as he could, then he added an arrow pointing towards the hotel. He hoped people would see it and know where to come for help.

He did the same on the wall opposite the corner and then walked back to the hotel. He painted the cross on the wall by the hotel door, not caring about Anton's reaction when he saw it, and added the words: Help Here.

He opened the door of the hotel and followed the voices to one of the rooms. Rhiannon was sitting on the edge of a bed and her friends were sprawled out around her, seeming perfectly at ease. May was lifting the wet towel from the wound and looking at the burn. She turned as Sam cleared his throat from the door and said, "Saran wrap, Sam?"

"It'll keep it moist and clean," Sam said.

"It's a new one on me," she said. "But I'll trust you." She turned her attention back to Rhiannon and said. "How about we get you some painkillers?"

"Yes, please," she said quietly.

Sam nodded and smiled at May and then went in search of James. He found him in the kitchen with Chrissy. They were making a pile of sandwiches. As Sam entered, James' eyes brightened and he smiled. "You're back."

"Only for a minute," Sam said. "I need to go out again, but I brought someone back. May is taking care of her. It's just a minor burn, but she's jumpy. Her friends are with her. I need you to make sure she drinks plenty. It'll help the burn heal."

"On it," James said.

"Thanks," Sam said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Sam…" James said tentatively.

Sam turned back and smiled. "I know. I'll be careful."

"That too," he said. "But I was going to say thank you. You're doing awesome."

"You, too," Sam said with a wink. "See you soon."

So… Los Angeles is burning. The damage to the city from the 6 days the riots rages was estimated at around a billion dollars. It was the costliest riot to ever happen in the USA.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midget xxx