Sam and Dean Winchester entered the building. For once they weren't dressed in jeans and flannel, today they came in in suits and with an aura of authority. John watched them walk straight to the front desk where they flashed some kind of ID.

A part of John wanted to just turn his back and pretend he hadn't seen them, he'd been on his feet for way too long and he needed a drink or at least more caffeine, but in the end, he excused himself from the old man he'd currently been interviewing.

"Gentlemen," John greeted them with his hands on his hips, right hand not quite on his gun but close enough to make the point.

"Deputy," Dean answered with an open smile, not in the slightest flustered by getting caught doing whatever they were doing here.

The receptionist behind the counter eyed them curiously but then she decided that other people needed her attention more.

"A word?" John jerked his head towards the exit. Whatever the Winchesters were doing here, he didn't want to discuss it in a full ER. Especially since he intended to call them out on the ID they had shown the receptionist.

Sam and Dean exchanged one of their looks, Sam shrugged, Dean nodded, and then they followed John outside.

"What are you doing here?" John asked once they had some privacy.

"We had a closer look at that tree," Sam said.

John blinked at him.

"Yeah, that was my first reaction too." Dean was having way too much fun with this. "But hear him out."

"There's a reason this town is called Beacon Hills," Sam continued. "This tree, it's a beacon. A beacon for the supernatural. You see, I was wondering why you have Derek and a pack of werewolves in a town this size. And then there was this druid. That's a lot for just a sleepy town. I asked somebody to have a closer look and it turned out that the supernatural activity here is much higher than it should be."

"How do you even measure that?" John wondered.

"Ash is a genius." Dean grinned at him.

"That explains why you're here how?" John pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That was quite a crash you had here this morning," Sam said carefully. "We just want to make sure that it's just that, a tragic accident."

"We've already been out on the interstate but nothing out of the ordinary there," Dean spoke up. "No EMF, no ectoplasm, no sulfur. So far it looks legit."

"And now you're here to talk to the victims?" John guessed. It was basically what he was supposed to be doing right now. Instead, he was listening to this. He had no idea what Dean was talking about here, his crash course on the supernatural hadn't covered things like ectoplasm. What was this? Ghostbusters?

"Pretty much," Sam agreed.

"We're going to check out the car wrecks after that," Dean added with way too much joy in his voice. He was looking forward to seeing the totaled cars.

"What kind of ID did you show in there?" John asked. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer, though.

"Insurance inspector." Dean got his ID out and showed it to him. "I made it myself."

It did look real, John had to admit which didn't make it better.

"We would have gone for cop but we kind of burned that one around here," Dean continued, not in the slightest bothered by the fact that he was confessing to a deputy here. Sam looked as if he wanted for his brother to shut up but he didn't intervene.

"Let's pretend I didn't hear that you wanted to impersonate an officer of the law," John said. "Do you have an actual clue that this was more than an accident?"

Now Dean looked over to his brother who ducked his head and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. So this had not been Dean's idea, interesting.

"No," Sam admitted. "But this is the biggest accident you had around here in … ever." He spread his arms in a helpless gesture that reminded John of Stiles. "With such a high rate of supernatural activity … we have to make sure."

"And tomorrow you're checking the High School for werewolves because somebody mentioned smelly, hairy teenagers? That's called puberty." John's voice rose with every word but he forced himself to calm down. "This was just an accident. Tragic but things like that happened. There haven't even been fatalities." There were still victims in a critical state but nobody had died on the scene.

Dean gave Sam a look which John read as a "Told you so." but Sam didn't look convinced.

"I'm currently interviewing the people involved in the accident, at least the ones who can talk to me right now." John let out a sigh, why was he even doing this? "So far nobody has mentioned anything suspicious. No Final Destination vibes."

Dean lit up at that reference.

"If I hear something and that's a big if …" John gave them a stern look, "I'm going to tell you but you're not going to bother these people here. They have been through enough. There is nothing to do for you in Beacon Hills."

Sam opened his mouth to say something but Dean stomped on his foot.

"Are we clear?" John asked Sam but it was Dean who answered: "Crystal clear."

"Good." John had no illusions that they would still check out the totaled cars but he couldn't care less about those. He turned around to get back to work when he remembered something.

"Oh, Sam." John looked back over his shoulder. "I hope this also means that you're no longer trying to free Stiles."

Sam's eyes widened in panic.

"Free Stiles?" Dean asked. "Since when are we going to free Stiles?"

"You're not." John turned fully to face them again. "I talked to him about it last night and he made it very clear that he doesn't want to get away from Derek. Even given the choice he would stay with him."

"He doesn't have a choice," Sam pointed out. "What is he supposed to say?"

"I don't know what crusade you're on." John stepped closer. "But not everybody needs saving. Stiles doesn't want to be saved. He wants to be left alone."

Sam didn't like the answer, his jaw was working and he clenched his fists, but Dean put a calming hand on his shoulder.

"We should leave now." Dean had to put some force into his hand still on his brother's shoulder but eventually, Sam followed his lead.

John was not convinced that Sam would drop it now but he had the feeling that Dean would have a word with him. Maybe that helped.

John watched them walking over to their car. Dean was already hissing something to his brother who's stubbornness was clearly showing in how he squared his shoulders. They were working up to an argument but they got in the car before the yelling started. John made sure that they had truly left before he went back inside, he still had people to interview.

By now the waiting area was less crowded and John didn't see Walter anywhere, he must be with a doctor by now.

"What did they want?" Mark came over with barely concealed anger in his whole posture.

"To make sure that there's nothing fishy about the accident." John rubbed his eyes, this day had been way too long already.

"Why would they think that?"

"Apparently the supernatural activity in Beacon Hills is higher than average," John repeated Sam's words. "Didn't know there is a measured average for that."

Mark grumbled to that, a noise that came deep out of his chest and didn't quite count as human.

"Anyway, we have work to do." John got his notepad out to update Mark on what their task was and what he'd done so far.

For a long moment, Mark ignored him, still caught in his anger about the hunters, but then he let go of that and was ready to listen to John.

"How's Walter doing anyway?" John asked when he'd finished his report.

"Most likely a mild concussion." Mark took the bait. John did want to know how the other man was doing but it was also a good way to get Mark's mind back on track. "Some cuts and bruises, nothing serious." The I hope hung unspoken at the end.

"That's good." John didn't know what else to say so he tapped his notepad with the pen to get them going.

They finished talking to the people still waiting to be seen by a doctor and then Melissa pointed them to where to find the more severely injured ones. Of the three only one was up to talking to them. Which didn't matter, they would have to come back tomorrow anyway for the two who were still in surgery.

Before they left, Mark checked on Walter but since his wife was with him now, he quickly left to give them some privacy.

John and Mark went back to the station where the paperwork waited for them. John was not looking forward to it, he could barely keep his eyes open, but with the help of what felt like a gallon of coffee, he somehow got through the rest of his shift.

He wasn't the only one. Others had been first responders to the accident and they were downing coffee like water. John knew that a lot of them would switch to something stronger later, the haunted look in their eyes gave them away.

John didn't say it out loud but he was glad that he hadn't been on duty when it happened. He was messed up enough without gruesome pictures haunting him. He ducked his head and focused on his work.

Around him, people talked. Of course, the accident was the topic of the day and it helped to talk about it but John didn't want to know the details. He tuned the rest of the office out as best as he could but he only breathed easier when he finally left the station for the day.

A drink, shower, food, couch, and more drinks in between before he fell into bed around nine, that was the plan when he entered his house.

However, since Agnes had ambushed him the other day, John did not go straight for the bottle in the kitchen. The door still open for an easy retreat, he stood in the hallway to get a feeling for his surroundings. He was about to laugh about his paranoia when he heard noises coming from the living room. Somebody was in there.

John did not draw his gun but he did unclip his holster. Agnes was his first thought but Stiles and even Derek came to mind. Lately, a lot of people were coming and going as they pleased.

John didn't ask who was there. Instead, he quietly moved farther into the house and peeked around the corner.

"Stiles?" John stepped around the corner fully when he saw who was sitting on his couch.

Stiles yelped in surprise and almost dropped the laptop he had on his knees. Clutching his chest he turned around to John.

"Not cool man." Stiles grimaced while he tried to compose himself.

"What are you doing?" John eyed the laptop barely sitting on Stiles' knee. "Is that my laptop?"

It was a stupid question, of course it was his. Stiles didn't even have a phone before John had forced one on him.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay." Stiles gave him a sheepish look that told John that Stiles hadn't expected him back just yet. "It was there and I rarely get the chance to browse the internet."

John stepped closer and tried to have a look at the screen, curious what Stiles had been doing.

"Please tell me you didn't watch porn on my laptop." The glimpse John got before Stiles turned the laptop around didn't leave much room for doubt.

"Okay, I'm not going to tell you," Stiles agreed easily and hurried to click a few things.

John closed his eyes with a groan while Stiles closed some windows. When John opened his eyes again, the screen just showed the desktop.

"Consider yourself lucky." Stiles closed the laptop. "Five minutes later and you would have caught me jerking off." Stiles didn't look as upset as he should over that statement.

"There are things I never want to see." John raised his hands in defense. "I need a drink."