Dean sat his phone down on library table after disconnecting from Jax and Cade. He looked over to Sam, who looked as anxious as he himself was feeling. "They didn't sound great." He shook his head. "But they sound better than I expected them to."

Sammy sat down in the chair that was in front of the laptop. "I just can't believe Jax didn't look into it any further. That's not like him." Sam was perilously close to 'bitch face'.

He shrugged. He could. When they had met Jax and Cade, Sam had been fifteen and in his 'I hate you all and I hate this life' phase. Sam had no idea of what Jax's family had done to Jax and Cade. If someone pressed him about it, he'd have to admit that he was shocked Jax was going anywhere near the situation.

But they were, so he and Sam would have their backs. Cade was the closest thing he and Sam had ever had to a sister; and Jax was both a buddy and a brother. When God tells you that the four of you were meant to meet, meant to bond; a guy just has to roll with it. Better Jax and Cade than some self-righteous douchebags who had no idea of fun at all.

"Dude, the number those fuckers did on him and Cade, I'm not surprised he's not really that curious." He thought about it for a second, Sam wasn't really wrong, it wasn't like Jax to walk into a situation without knowing every damn detail he could find. "Then again dude, that headline alone would be enough to put him in shock." He sat down and took a drink of his beer. "That's why he called us Sam, to have their backs. He knows neither one of them are thinkin' straight."

Sammy stretched his mile-long legs out in front of him and folded his hands over his torso. "They both died violent deaths, Dean." Sammy looked at him sadly. "You know what that can mean."

He sighed. He hadn't really wanted to think about it. But yeah, he knew. He also knew from Jax's description of the town and his own drive through when he was in the area spying on Sam when he was at Stanford, that salt and burns would be nearly impossible. "I know, Sam."

But of course Sam wasn't going to let it drop. "Not only that, but what if these other gangs decide that Jax is there for a little payback?" Sam shook his head. "Anyone looks up Jax and Cade is gonna find the same laundry list of shit that they find on us." His brother had gone from sad to paranoid. "This is just a shitstorm waiting to happen."

"Whaddya want me to say, Sam? That it won't be?" He sat his beer down before he was angry enough to slam it down. No need to waste good beer. "It will probably be fucked from the second we get there until the second we leave. But we'll have their backs. We won't let Jax do anything stupid and we'll make sure that Cade doesn't have a PTSD flashback."

Sam's eyes widened because there had been no flippancy to his tone. "Was it that bad?"

It wasn't really his story to tell, but he knew that neither Jax nor Cade would ever tell it. Not to Sam. As Jax once said, there was no reason to upset Sam with things he couldn't do shit about. But Sammy needed to know enough now to at least navigate the fucking situation.

"Yeah, Sam. It was really that bad." He shuddered a little. "Cade was treated badly enough that even a year after it happened, just thinking about it could give her the shakes." He knew he ragged on Cade about being a 'fuckin' hippie', but he knew he was just as soft at his core as she was. He'd just had most of it conditioned out of him by his father from the time he was five. And he knew how rattled he'd have been if treated that way. Even after John Winchester's conditioning. And Cade had been raised as a loved only child who was the apple of her parents' eyes. What happened with them had devastated her; when she fell in love with Jax, she'd hoped to regain a family. What she got was her man disowned and exiled. "And not just by Jax's Mom and brother. That whole fucking MC treated her like shit." He also knew that Cade hadn't told Jax some of what had happened. Not because she didn't trust him, she just hadn't wanted her husband to murder anyone on her behalf.

And he wasn't gonna deny that a part of him hoped that any of the douches that were still around from back in Jax's day tried some shit so he could give them the beatdown that Cade couldn't. He'd never say it aloud, but that fuckin' hippie girl was his cosmic twin and someone was gonna have to shed a little blood for hurting her. He didn't give a fuck that it was over fifteen years ago. It was still a wrong that needed to right. And if he had to do it, all the better.

Sam shook his head with a wry smile. "You can't beat the shit out of them all because they were awful to Cade back then." Sam was still smiling. "Even though I'd love to, too."

He grinned back. "Guess I might just have to goad someone into it." The grin faded. "'Cause someone is gonna pay for that shit. Nobody fucks with the people I love…"

"… And gets away with it." Sam shook his head with his dimples popping. "No starting fights. Finish them, sure. But no starting them." Sam's face grew serious again. "We want to have their backs, not make this harder for them."

As he went to protest, Sam's cel phone started to ring. Sam looked at it and answered. "Hey, Bobby."

His ears perked up because Sam had called Bobby earlier in the day and asked the older hunter to put on his Fed voice and to ferret information out of the San Joaquin County District Attorney.

"Let me put you on speaker, Bobby." Sam punched a button and set the phone on the table.

"Those two are walkin' into a clusterfuck that's been five years in the makin', boys." Bobby sounded frustrated. "Have you boys talked to them? How are they doin'?"

"They're holding it together and they're not goin' in alone, Bobby. Me and Sam are gonna meet them in Grand Island tomorrow afternoon." He threw his two cents in.

"Thank fuck for that." Bobby's relief was obvious. "That DA is one tough lady who does her homework. She's already looked into Jax and Cade."

That wasn't good. At one point the two of them had been as wanted by the FBI as him and Sam. Granted, they were listed as possible accessories who were wanted for questioning instead of the 'go directly to jail' warrants that he and Sam had at the time, but still not good. It meant that she'd have law enforcement keeping an eye on them.

"Fuck." Leave it to Sam to come up with the right word.

"Got her talked down about the two of them." Bobby snickered a little. "Good thing Hendrickson wiped the Feds record of you guys, otherwise I'm not sure I'da been able to. She's pretty ambitious."

"What all did she say, Bobby?" Sam was trying to figure out a plan and his boy needed info.

Bobby sighed. "Apparently all of this started when Tom Teller had made arrangements to make a deal for jail time over that school shooting back there. He made it to save the wife from accessory to murder charges." Bobby sounded like he needed a drink. "Guess Mama Teller didn't like that, she kills the wife and then lies about who did it and sparked a gang war."

"Jesus Christ." This was even more messed up than Sam had thought.

"You ain't kiddin', boy." It sounded like Bobby had just taken a shot. Not that he would blame the guy. "Tom Teller fucking burns down his world trying to figure out who killed his wife. Eventually found out his mother did it." Bobby paused for a second. "She told me Tom Teller came to her before he met his end. Confessed to the killing of his mother and the former police chief of Charming and then basically told her he what he was gonna go do." Bobby paused again. "She's pretty messed up over this. Apparently she had a bit of a soft spot for Thomas Teller." He could hear glass on glass in the background. Bobby was settling in for a night with the bottle. He didn't blame Bobby at all. In fact, it was a plan he was contemplating after this call was done. "She's still keepin' an eye on Charming, so I'd expect to run across her at some point."

Fucking awesome. Oh well, it isn't like they hadn't faced worse situations. The Apocalypse flashing in front of his eyes. Hellhounds. Motherfucking witches. Sam, if he can't get rabbit food for four days straight.

"Wonderful." He raised his beer at his brother, who flipped him the bird. Sam got up and started pacing back and forth in front of the table. "Just what they need."

"Not at all. Which is why you two idjits are goin' with 'em." Bobby's voice had that after shot roughness. "Next time you boys talk to 'em, tell them to give me a call. Want to hear how they're doin' for myself." That was not a request. "And keep an old man informed, will ya?"

"Sure, Bobby. We can do that." Sam looked at him like it was gonna be his job to relay that message.

"Then I guess I'll talk to you boys soon. G'Night." Bobby disconnected the call.

Sam looked at him, dread levels back to teenage girl levels. "Shit, Dean, usually Bobby considers Jax the least idiotic of all of us, if he's this worried…" Like it was finally truly hitting Sam that this was so not good on so many levels.

"It's gonna be fine Sam. We'll get there, Jax will do his legal shit, have the funerals, and then we all go to Vegas for a vacation." He had both sets of fingers and toes crossed that he was right.

"We're not going to Vegas, Dean." Damn. "Not unless that's what Jax and Cade want to do after all of this." Whoo-hoo! He knew he could talk Cade into it, who could talk Jax into it… "And even then, I'll still say no." Damn.

He tried to give Sam a little pout but Sam just shook his head. "Possible zombie thing down in Mississippi." His brother's smile slowly widening. Bastard. Sam had the zombie ace in his pocket this time. Both he and Jax had a thing for zombies. Sam and Cade said the two of them just liked the easy pickings. Whatever.

"Guess we'll be going to Mississippi when we're done in California." He smiled at Sam. "Can we get drunk now?" Heading over to the bar to grab a bottle and glasses.

Plopping down in one of the comfy chairs they'd hauled into the library, Sam held out a hand for a glass. "Hell yes. The next week is not gonna be fun."

For once, he really couldn't argue with his little brother.