You folks love Hillary so much, you've inspired me to create a canine main character for my Nano-novel! (So far so good. My word count is pretty much on track.) Thanks again to all of you for your patience in November. I really appreciate it. And a big thanks to charis-kalos for always taking the time edit my fanfic.

Chapter 48: Hostile Testimony

"...and that was when Sam decided my books were out of order. He set about rearranging my whole da- uh, darn library." Bobby squirmed in the white chair. He shot a glance their way.

"And did any of your dogs ever take a liking to Sam?" Gabriel asked. Sam bristled at the question. He heard Hillary shoot the archangel another well-deserved growl.

"Oh, sure," Bobby said with a wave of his hand. "Why, I remember an old hound I had, Ike. Wasn't too much of a guard dog except he looked the part, but he took a real shining to Sam. Used to follow the kid around everywhere."

"Was Ike the only dog you had who liked Sam?" she asked. Hillary growled again and Sam ran a hand over her head. What a great dog.

"Nope." Bobby readjusted the hat on his head. "But there've been a lot of dogs over the years. Can't remember who did or didn't like the boys." He fixed Gabriel with a stare. "But I will tell ya, the ones that didn't, I didn't trust as far as I could throw 'em."

"Thank you, Mister Singer," Gabriel said with a brilliant smile. "No more questions. Cross examination?"

"Not at this time," Michael replied. "You may step down, Bobby." He flinched. "Mister Singer."

Gabriel shot Michael a confused look while Bobby headed back to their seats. Sam wondered what it was all about.

"Next witness," Gabriel announced, "is Dean Winchester."

Sam groaned to himself as Dean and Hillary went back to the witness stand, if a marble chair could be called that. What business of angels, or anyone else's, was any of this anyway? Here they were, being forced to expose everything that had happened to their family, and why? Because Sam's life sucked, that was why. Mom died when he was a baby - Sam's fault because he was targeted by the demon. Dad died - Sam's fault again because Dad went after the demon which killed Mom because it was after him. Dean had a bad back - Sam's fault because Dean went after the demon because it was after him. And now? Just because he had the stupid idea that having an archangel as an ally would be a good thing for them, Dean and Mike got into a dumbass staring contest his brother just had to win. Not that he had really doubted Dean could best Michael in some things, like pool, poker, beer and women. Honestly, he had seen a confrontation coming, but he hadn't really expected a staring contest of all freaking things.

Dean's testimony was short and Hillary only growled at Gabriel. Constantly. Not that Sam blamed her of course. He wished he could get away with doing that. Only he, Dean and Bobby seemed concerned with Hillary's behavior here. Damn dog was getting away with murder. And where had Dean been since last night anyway? It was pretty obvious he hadn't taken off to hook up with some pretty face - hopefully attached to a nice body. Not that Sam had really thought that might be the case, since the Impala had still been at Bobby's. With the way Hillary was acting Sam could only assume something really bad was happening to Dean and it had his stomach tied up in knots with worry.

Dean returned to his seat beside Sam. "Relax," he whispered as Hillary leaned into Sam's leg briefly, before returning to her earlier position of glaring over the short wall at the archangels.

Sam shook his head at his brother. Relax? Honestly? That was the best Dean could come up with? Sam couldn't possibly relax, not now. This trial couldn't have come at a worse time. He and Bobby needed to find Dean! Well, okay, so Dean looked fine. Right now. In a heavenly host courtroom. He could be comatose or beaten and lying in a ditch some place and this was just Dean's self-image they were seeing in court. Hell, Dean could be dead!

Then Dean gave him a shove in the arm. Sam glanced over at his big brother. Dean stared intently at him. He felt a stinging, lingering pain in his wrists. Then he noticed a distinctive ache in his lower back. He was tired and worried, mostly about his little brother. It took Sam a moment to recognize a lower grade of the empathy he used to share with Dean. This was exactly how Dean felt at this moment, and from the physical aches and pains Sam could tell Dean was essentially okay. He relaxed instantly, offering his brother a quick smile of thanks. Dean shot the dog a glare, which Sam understood: help keep Hillary out of trouble.

Relieved to have something to do other than listen to testimony about him, Sam kept a sharp eye out for anyone or anything which might set the dog off. He had a pretty good idea of what might do it, too.

"Where'd Ralph go?" Dean whispered.

"If you'd been paying attention," Bobby hissed at his brother from the row behind them, "you'd know the next witness isn't here yet. What's wrong with you?"

Dean stiffened, looking a lot like he used to when Dad would reprove him. "Just a little distracted, I guess," he replied in a tight voice.

Bobby swatted at Dean's shoulder. "Get undistracted," he snapped back. "This is your brother they're talking about here!"

Sam wanted to grin at the hard glare Dean shot Bobby over that one. "Like I don't know that?" Dean demanded in a harsh voice.

Bobby sighed as a hand grasped Dean's shoulder. "Sorry," he muttered. "Guess I'm just a little worried." He looked at Sam. "Sorry, Sam."

Sam shrugged, keeping one eye on the dog. Like he didn't understand how his family acted when they were worried? Hell, if they had been acting any differently, Sam would worry more.

Ralph appeared in the center of court. "The witness has arrived and must be treated as a hostile witness. Please note the reason this witness is allowed here is by request of the defense. She will be unable to view her actual surroundings, so do not be surprised by her comments." He waved a hand at the marble chair. It filled with a slender woman with long blond hair.

"Ruby?" Sam breathed. What the hell was she doing here?

Dean punched him in the arm. Don't act like you know her, flowed through his mind in his brother's voice.

"Please state your name for the council," Gabriel intoned, her voice hard and cold.

"What is this?" Ruby demanded, her actions and voice bordering on hysteria. She tried to stand but could not move from the chair. "What are you?"

"I am asking the questions," Gabriel glared at Ruby. "You will answer them. What is your interest in Sam Winchester?"

Ruby grimaced. "You're here because of that lousy brother of his, aren't you?" She snorted. "Well, tell him not to worry, his precious little brother is more worried about oatmeal than talking to me."

"Really?" Gabriel asked. "And why exactly do you want to talk to him?"

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the archangel. "Why do you care?"

"It's my business to care," Gabriel replied evenly. "Why do you want to talk to Sam? I understand you've been asking to use his name. Why?"

"I need his permission," Ruby said. She glanced around her. "What is this? I didn't mean to say that."

"So you can't use Sam's name without his permission." Gabriel paced in front of Ruby. "But why have you been trying to gain permission? To what end?"

Ruby sighed as she looked up. She struggled again to stand, to get away, but she could not move from the chair. Sam felt sympathy for her. She had never attempted to harm him, even going to the extreme of placing herself between him and other demons. Well, placing the woman she was possessing between him and other demons. Somehow, it didn't sound so noble when he thought of it that way.

"You!" Ruby pointed a finger at Michael. "You're behind this! I don't know what kind of spell you're using, but don't think I won't find out. And when I do..." she glowered at him.

Michael rolled his eyes with a slight head roll. In that instant, that very instant, Sam was struck with how familiar the action was. Mike looked exactly like Dean when his brother made the same movement. Holy crap. Sam's eyes darted between Dean, whose eyes had a distinctly annoyed green glow, back to Mike. They held themselves the same way, had similar facial expressions, even moved with the same confident, easy grace.

Oh, man... If anyone else noticed this, it might be Dean on trial instead of him. Surely influencing an archangel was a serious offense! Sam rubbed his hands nervously on his pants as Mike backed away from Ruby, responding to Gabriel's request to give the demon some room. Mike really looked kind of pissed off about it, like he would prefer just slamming her back to hell regardless of the outcome. Then Sam noticed Raphael watching Mike intently, and did he look worried.

Raphael caught Sam staring, but he didn't seem upset. He nodded subtly towards Dean. Sam's attention shifted back to his brother. At the moment Dean seemed fine, all things considered. Sam gave a small shrug in Raphael's direction. Raphael again nodded at Dean.

Sam reached over to grab his brother's shoulder. "Relax," he whispered. "She isn't going anywhere."

Dean leaned in close to whisper. "But why does she want your name, Sam?"

"I told you," Sam hissed back, "she wants to stop the legion. Demon against demon, Dean."

Dean shook his head, the annoyed glow in his eyes growing. "Got to be more to it than that, Sam."

Sam shrugged back. "So what?" he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not like she's going to get it."

Dean gave him a long look before leaning back and nodding his head. Sam looked over at Raphael, whose attention was riveted to Mike. Mike leaned back against the second table, appearing more relaxed now. How weird was that?


Hillary kept her eyes on the target. No way was the screechy one getting close to Food-boy. Not on her watch. She planned to find out exactly how tough the screechy one's leg was next time that woman came too close. Food-boy kept acting like they could hurt her. She snorted loud through her nose.

Book-boy scratched her neck again. At least he understood. Food-boy ought to be worried about Screechy, not her.

Uh-oh. Here came Screechy. Hillary started with a low warning growl; Screechy was too close. Screechy stopped and tilted her head, studying Hillary. Hillary growled a little louder until Food-boy grabbed her collar again. Oh, cats! Still not allowed to go after Screechy? She knew Food-boy didn't like Screechy either, so what was the problem?

"Really, Hill," Food-boy whispered in her ear, "stop attacking archangels. You can take on hellhounds and I might let you go after a demon, but no angels. Got it?"

Hillary whined at him. Couldn't she take just one little, tiny, hardly-noticeable lunge? Right into Screechy's lower leg?

"No!" Food-boy hissed in her ear as he yanked on her collar.

Disgruntled, Hillary climbed off the wall to lie under the bench between her boys. Fine. If they didn't want her protection, fine. She could just lie right here and ignore both of them.

"Dean!" Book-boy whispered. "You hurt her feelings!"

"So, Ruby," Screechy said, "what is your personal view of Sam Winchester?"

Food-boy leaned over her to whisper back at Book-boy. "Better than having Gabby smite her!"

Book-boy stared at Food-boy while the bad woman talked to Screechy.

"He was supposed to be our leader, reign over Hell on Earth. Honestly, I can't imagine what Azazel saw in him, but he has the name recognition I need to organize the others against the legion," the bad woman said. "If I could get him to listen to me and not worry about what kind of oatmeal his loser brother likes, maybe I could get some frigging work done!"

"Did you honestly use the word 'smite'?" Book-boy asked.

"Yes, I used the word smite!" Food-boy snapped back. "You got a better word for it?"

Hillary watched anxiously as her boys argued. She liked it better when they got along.

"I almost, almost had him convinced the other day..."

Hillary sat up to look over the wall again at the bad woman. She knew Food-boy and Book-boy were doing the same thing.

"...but then his rotten brother showed up and spoiled the whole thing." The bad woman made a rude noise, the kind Bobby fussed at her for. She really didn't like the bad woman talking mean about Food-boy like that. "I mean, if it weren't for his brother, I could have turned half the demons against the rest of the legion by now. The brother would have been a better choice for our leader. At least he's capable, tough, and, the way I hear it, mean as hell."

Hillary stood, her fur bristling with rage. She locked on to the bad woman. Nobody talked bad about her Food-boy! Flat-footed, she cleared the low wall in one leap. Growling loud, Hillary approached the bad woman slowly. Now she could see it, the dark shadow under the bad woman's skin. This one was similar to the hellhounds, a Bad Thing controlling the body. Hillary bared her teeth, the only thought in her mind to run off the Bad Thing the same way she sent those hellhounds packing.

"Hillary!" Food-boy's shout echoed in the room. Hillary ignored it. The bad woman couldn't be allowed to be in the same room with her boys, end of discussion.

Food-boy slid on his knees in front of her, blocking her with his body. It wasn't like she would ever hurt him, so she waited to see if he would get out of her way.

"And that dog!" the bad woman shouted. "There is something really wrong with that dog!"

"Shut up, bitch!" Food-boy snapped at her. "You're not helping!"

He scooted towards Hillary on his knees, both hands out like he might pet her. Hillary waited patiently, though her focus was on the bad woman. His fingers ran through her fur. Too late, she realized what he was up to. Once again, Food-boy had her by the collar. He struggled to get to his feet until Book-boy helped him up.

"Okay, seriously," Food-boy said as he scanned the room, "does anybody have a leash I can borrow?"

Oh, cats! Not a leash!!