Getting directions at the front desk, Dean had little trouble finding Donna's office. A nervous, blonde-haired man Dean had never seen before was pacing around inside, looking anxious. Donna's face lit up when she saw Dean, but then she frowned. "Where's Jimmy?"

"It's his amnesia," Dean lied, thinking fast. "He's upset because his own name doesn't mean anything to him, and he doesn't know if he's ready to meet with his brother."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked incredulously. "I flew out here to get him. His wife and daughter are frantic! You cannot seriously expect me to believe that he doesn't want to see us?"

"Sir, I tried to explain this," Donna said smoothly. "Your brother is suffering from a severe form of amnesia. When he was first brought in after his initial accident, he couldn't even speak. The damage he sustained to his brain is serious. He has no memory of who he is or anything about his own life. Since then, he has actually been recovering remarkably, considering how much damage he sustained. And Mr. Winchester has been taking care of him."

"I had to teach him how to eat, dude," Dean explained. "He took a big bite out of a plastic spoon because he had no idea what it was for."

Michael Angelo was young, a bit younger than Sam, by the looks of him. His blonde hair was somewhat shaggy, and his blue eyes were much lighter than Cass's. The man was thin without being scrawny and good-looking, although he looked nothing at all like Cass. Now his eyes grew wide at Dean's words before he grimaced. "I'm sorry, Mr. Winchester," he apologized. "I'm just very concerned, as you can imagine. The only thing I knew was that he'd been hurt. We were all so worried! I just knew I had to take him home. I had no idea he was that bad!"

Donna smiled. "Why don't you both have a seat, and the three of us can talk? It sounds like Mr. Winchester needs to bring us both up to speed on Jimmy's condition. If you don't mind, Mr. Winchester?"

"It's Dean," he called, sitting down. He turned to face the man. "First of all, I want to say that I totally get your concern. Your brother really was in bad shape, but he's slowly getting better. There are times now that you can't even tell he's got brain damage at all."

"You're a saint for taking him in," Michael declared. "I want to thank you for that. Not many people would have done it."

Dean chuckled. "I gotta say, part of me thought I was crazy. But he's such a scrawny, short little guy! It's hard to believe he's a security escort."

Michael smiled. "Yeah, I know. I used to have to stand up for him when we were kids. But he came into his own pretty quick."

Dean straightened, and Donna sucked in her breath. But Dean's friendly smile remained intact. "Does his daughter have those same big brown eyes?" he asked.

"Sure does!" Michael agreed. "One look Claire you can tell right away whose daughter she is."

Dean nodded, still smiling. "And what color is your brother's hair?"

Michael blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you've already fucked up on his eye color and his physical build," Dean informed him. "I just want to see if you can go three for three."

"Who are you?" Donna hissed getting to her feet. "What is this? You're trying to take a man with amnesia under false pretenses? That's kidnapping!"

All the color drained from Michael's face. "Er…"

Donna's face flushed. She began yelling at Michael, rapidly reciting all of the laws he was currently guilty of breaking. In another life, she might have made a wonderful cop. Michael appeared paler with every charge. The man appeared in danger of passing out any minute.

"You know, she's right. Kidnapping's a federal offense," Dean declared when Donna paused to breathe. "I hope you end up someone's prison bitch. Donna, call the cops!"

"No, wait!" Michael squeaked. "I'm sorry! I don't understand what's going on. But I'm not kidnapping anyone!"

"Who are you really?" Dean asked.

"My name is Adam, Adam Milligan, see?" He dug into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and frantically showed his ID. "Ok, I'm not the guy's brother, but I'm not a kidnapper or a criminal. I'm just an actor! I got paid to come in here and play the part of some guy's brother, get him to go out with me and then turn him over to the guys who paid me. I didn't know what it was about. I didn't know he had amnesia until you told me. Until then, I thought it was a joke!"

"A joke? You were going to turn a man with a brain injury over to some strangers as a joke?!" Donna looked ready to explode.

Adam cringed. "I didn't know he had a brain injury! I thought I could make some quick cash, maybe get something to add to my CV to help get my next gig. I'm not a kidnapper, I swear, I'm just an actor!"

Donna was taking a deep breath to start yelling again, but Dean was quicker. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he exploded. "What kind of sick, pathetic excuse for a human being could agree to something like this? You were supposed to take someone from a hospital under false pretenses and then just turn him over to some complete strangers, no questions asked? What was going to happen to him once you turned him over?"

"I had no idea what was going to happen to him," Adam insisted. "I just needed the money!"

Donna yelled something at Adam so crude that made Dean blink at her in surprise. Then she grabbed her phone. "It's Donna. Get me security, now!"

"Wait!" Adam was pointing out the window of Donna's office. "That's one of the guys now that paid me, sitting in the suit in the waiting room. See? He's the one you want, not me!"

Dean looked and stiffened, recognizing Agent Crowley. The agent was wearing another pricey, immaculate suit, looking like a businessman stopping in for an appointment between meetings. He was seated in the waiting area next to radiology, well away from Donna's office with a magazine in his hands. Dean hadn't even noticed him when he'd come in. "Donna?" he called. "I think I should go."

"Yes, go, take care of Mr. Doe," she replied, embarrassed. "And if anyone else comes to claim him, I promise you I'll make sure they are who they say they are. We're changing some hospital policies after this debacle. Nothing like it will ever happen again!"

Dean rose. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," she growled. "Just get out of here, alright? Take care of Mr. Doe. I'll deal with this one." The look she shot Adam made the man seem to shrink.

Dean thought that was excellent advice. He waited until a dietary aide came by with a large cart and ducked out, keeping behind it to avoid being seen by Agent Crowley. When he was sure he was out of sight, Dean broke into a quick walk. Running would attract attention.

But then a familiar face came around the corner. Agent Luke Morningstar froze, staring back at Dean as he gawked. Then, as Dean tried to move around him, the agent moved to block his path. "Mr. Winchester!" he called with a pleasant smile. "Fancy seeing you again!"

"Hey, how you been?" Dean called cheerfully. "Excuse me, I need to get going."

Once again, the agent blocked his path. "Why don't we go back and meet up with my partner? I believe we have some more questions for you."

"I already told you everything I know."

"We both know that's a lie." The agent moved closer. "Is he here?"

"Your partner? Yeah, I saw him in the waiting room up by the radiology department."

Morningstar was still smiling. "You've been living with him all this time, haven't you?"

"Dude, your partner's not bad, but I already told you, I've got a boyfriend. Now excuse me." Dean tried again to go around him.

"Really?" the agent asked, once more moving to block Dean. "You know, it was a real mess when you took him out of here. You got here just minutes before we could have taken him into custody. And now you claim he's your boyfriend? What are you, playing house? That's cute."

Dean shook his head. "I think we're talking about two different people here."

"Oh, I don't think so," Morningstar declared. His smile never faltered. "We both know that the man you found and the man you've been living with are the same person. Especially if you brought your so-called 'boyfriend' here, thinking he was about to meet his family."

"You admit that? You son of a bitch, that was beyond low!" Dean exclaimed, too upset to think straight. "You tried to trick a man with brain damage into thinking he was going back to a wife and kid? That's a sick thing to do!"

Agent Morningstar seemed unbothered by this. His eyes were bright as he looked at Dean. "Tell me, what's it like? Was it badly injured? It's pretty dependent on you, isn't it? Is that why you're living with it?"

The sudden change in pronouns confirmed Dean's worst fears, as well as brought an icy-cold feeling to his heart. "Dude, that's confidential patient information," Dean informed him. "Can't be released without either written permission or a warrant. You got either one of those, pal?"

Morningstar's blue eyes narrowed. "Let's go meet up with Crowley."

"No thanks, I'm kind of on my way out right now. I'll call you and we'll do lunch." Dean tried to slip past.

Agent Morningstar put his arm out almost casually to block Dean's path. "Mr. Winchester?" he called patiently. "Turn around, and let's go find my partner. Now."

Dean eyed him. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in the agent's reply.

Dean sized the other man up. Morningstar was about his height and build. But Dean was younger. He suspected he'd have fair odds in a fight. Dean frowned. "You know I'm perfectly capable of kicking your ass, right?" he said, trying to look intimidating.

"You know I have a gun, right?" Morningstar's hand moved to his weapon on his hip and patted it meaningfully.

Dean blinked. "Seriously? You'd shoot me in a crowded hospital?"

The agent's face was set and serious. "In the interests of national security? Yes, Mr. Winchester. Yes, I would."

"Right." Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat. Then he frowned, looking down. "Dude, your barn door's open."

Agent Morningstar quickly looked down, his hands going to his fly.

The instant he was distracted, Dean bolted. The old "your fly's open" trick had served him well in the past when Dean was trying to run from bullies. Thank God it still worked. This time, he didn't care if he attracted attention. Dean barreled through the halls of the hospital, startling employees, patients and visitors, leaving a trail of chaos, a dropped bedpan, and scattered linens as he accidentally bumped into a linen cart, spilling it into the hall. Dean glanced back and saw Agent Morningstar charging after him, vaulting the fallen cart like an Olympic athlete. The man was in great shape. With a groan, Dean put on more speed.

He reached the elevator for the parking garage and pressed the button. Then, realizing how stupid he was being standing around waiting for an elevator while being chased, he followed the signs for the stairway, shoved through the door and into the stairs. Donna's office had been on the first floor. Naturally, they'd parked on the sixth. Dean ascended the stairs as quickly as he could, ignoring the screaming of his lungs for air and the painful stitch he'd quickly developed in his side. When Sammy heard about this, he'd start nagging Dean to go jogging with him again. Maybe this time Dean might consider it.

Glancing back, he saw no sign of Agent Morningstar. Maybe he'd lost him after all? With a sigh of relief, Dean slowed down, giving himself a chance to catch his breath. He exited at the sixth floor just as Agent Morningstar stepped off the elevator. The two stared at each other for a moment before the agent's hand shot out like a striking snake, grabbing Dean's arm. "Where were you going in such a hurry, Mr. Winchester?"

"The bathroom. Had some bad Mexican last night. Really gotta shit! Excuse me."

The grip on his arm tightened. Shaking his head, the agent chuckled. "What are the chances? I knew you were heading for your car, so I was just trying to get to mine, see if I could cut you off or follow you. Instead, you pop out right in front of me! That is some kind of luck."

"Could we maybe cut to the part where you shoot me?" Dean sighed. "Believe me, I am all too aware of what my luck is like."

He smiled. "I think maybe we need to talk."

"Sorry, man, I'm taken, but flattered." Dean tried to pry the man's fingers off of his arm. Agent Morningstar's grip was like steel. "Um, you need to take your hands off me."

"I don't think so. Let's go someplace private, where we can talk about exactly where it is you've hidden it." The agent started moving, dragging Dean along.

Dean couldn't believe it. He resisted, but the agent just kept going. Morningstar was strong, stronger even than Cass, far stronger than he should have been. Suddenly, Sam's wild conspiracy theories about supersoldiers were starting to look more valid. "Ok, time to get real," Dean called. "You don't get to just drag me away. I don't care who you work for, I know my rights. Am I being arrested?"

"Depends entirely on how you answer our questions." The agent had his cell phone out and was sending a text, never letting go of Dean.

Dean did a quick assessment. The strength of the grip on Dean's arm made him pause when normally he'd start swinging. That unusual strength, combined with whatever government kung fu training he probably had, plus the fact the agent was armed? Somehow, Dean didn't think he wanted to get into a physical altercation with the man. He dug in his heels, forcing the agent to all but drag him. "Let go of me," he ordered. "Unless I'm under arrest, I'm not going anywhere with you. And I sure as hell am not getting into that!" he added, seeing that he was being pulled towards the familiar black SUV. "Stop!" he yelled. "Hey! Let go of me!"

The agent had opened the door of the SUV and was shoving Dean inside. Dean clung to the sides, kicking at him. "Let me go!"

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Now get in!"

Dean resisted with all his strength, straining to maintain his grip on the sides of the vehicle as he was pushed in. "Fuck you! Let me out! Help!"

And then there was a commotion from up the ramp. Dean and Agent Morningstar both looked and saw Castiel coming towards them. Sam was clinging to his arm, leaning back with all the strength of his powerful six-foot-four frame to try to impede the other man's progress. But Castiel, seemingly strengthened by pure fury, kept moving. Sam's feet slid over the floor as Cass continued forward, oblivious to his pulling or his frantic pleas to stop. "Dean!" Sam yelled. "I'm sorry man, but I can't stop him!"

Castiel's eyes fell on Dean, still straining to keep from being forced into the SUV. Then they moved to Agent Morningstar and became murderous. His lips curled back into an animalistic snarl, and his fists clenched. He increased his speed, moving towards the two, ignoring Sam who continued to be dragged after him.

The agent stiffened, his eyes going wide. Then he smiled. "Finally! Holy shit, look at you!"

He'd stopped pushing Dean into the SUV and Dean quickly climbed out. But then he took hold of Dean's arm again, holding on as Castiel approached. Dean pried at his fingers, alarmed by the strength of the man's grip. Cass was strong, strong enough to keep moving despite Sammy's best efforts. But Sam was clearly having an effect. Cass was fighting for every step forward. From what he'd seen of Agent Morningstar, the agent was every bit as strong. He was also armed. With a sinking heart, Dean realized that this was not a fight Cass could win. If he kept coming, the agent would have him, and there would be nothing he or Sam could do to prevent it. "Let go of me, asshole!" he called desperately. "Cass, please, you can't fight him!"

Castiel didn't listen to Dean any more than he'd listened to Sam. Sam let him go, digging frantically in his pocket. Castiel stormed forward, his eyes locked with the agent's. Morningstar seemed to brace, drawing his weapon with one hand and holding onto Dean with the other. Still smiling, he raised his weapon, aiming at Castiel. "Settle down," he called. "Just keep cool, get in, and no one gets hurt."

Dean changed tactics, moved until he was between the two and held up a warding hand towards Castiel. "No, don't shoot him," he pleaded. "Cass, please!"

"Homeland Security goons!" Castiel spat, grabbing Dean's arm. "I'm not telling you again. Keep your grubby fingers to yourself!"

The agent's eyes widened in surprise. "It can talk? What the…?"

"Smile, motherfucker, you're on candid camera!" Sam, all but forgotten in the tension of the moment, had his phone out and was busy filming the scene. "This is a couple of American citizens facing off with an agent of Homeland Security who is attempting to abduct one or both of them. Hey, you Nazi bastard, better back off or I swear, this is going to go viral! You want to be a star, asshole? Huh?"

The agent paused. His brow wrinkled, considering his options. Then with a muttered curse, he finally released Dean. "Another time, Winchester!"

Dean gave him the finger as he let Castiel pull him away. "Come on, man, we gotta go," he pleaded, pushing at the furious man's chest. "These guys are bad news. Please, Cass?"

Castiel's arms went around Dean, holding him close as he glared over Dean's shoulder at the agent. Something seemed to pass between them. And then Castiel at last turned around and let himself be guided back to Sam's car. His arm kept Dean tightly to his side, making walking a bit awkward, but they soon arrived and climbed into Sam's minivan.

A moment later, Sam was in the driver's seat. His hands shook so badly that he dropped the keys, whimpered in panic before finding them, and finally started the ignition with a shaking hand.

"Sammy, you may have just saved our lives back there," Dean called, hoping to help calm his brother as they backed out and then took off with a squeal of tires. "It's ok, buddy. That was some damned fast thinking, taping that whole thing like you did? I really think that asshole was ready to drag us both off."

Sam looked terrified. He raced through the parking garage at unsafe speeds, nearly taking out an old lady with a walker and the gate in his hurry. Once on the street, he ignored all posted speed limits. "Oh shit, oh hell, the government's after us now," he moaned. "They're probably tracking us from space. They could have a missile locked onto us right now! We're dead, so dead!"

"Dammit, Sam, would you calm down?" Dean exclaimed. When they'd gotten into the car, Castiel had pulled Dean onto his lap and was refusing to let go. It was nice, but as wild as his brother was driving, Dean really wanted the safety of a seat belt. "C'mon, Cass, it's safe to let me go," he soothed. "I'm alright. How about you let me sit down in the seat so we can both get into the seat belts, ok?"

Castiel scowled, not letting go. He still appeared very upset, and his arms were tight around Dean. Dean struggled a bit more, realized he wasn't going anywhere, sighed and somehow managed to buckle Castiel's seat belt around them both. "You're so freaking strong! But you know, so was that agent. He was way stronger than he looked."

"He's probably part of a government program," Sam declared, not slowing down. "You know they got drugs to alter the human body, make supersoldiers and shit like that. Poor Castiel's probably been getting juiced since they grew him in a test tube!"

"Sam?"

"Your boyfriend there's probably an altered government agent. They sent those other goons to bring him back in after he escaped. The reason that agent let us go is because the only thing they fear is exposure," Sam declared. "Thank God Cass was pacing around outside the van. I couldn't get him to come in and sit down after you left. That's why we heard you yelling and came out after you. If that guy would have gotten you into that van, we'd never see you again, Dean!"

"Sam?"

"They'd take you to some government training facility and inject you with experimental drugs," Sam theorized. "You'd come out of there twice as strong and with a chip in your head, ensuring your obedience to your shadow government masters. The way that fucker was so surprised that Cass could talk? You know he expected to find an obedient slave! And if he'd taken you away, he'd have turned you into one, too!"

"Sam?"

"You know they put tracking chips into vaccines now?" Sam was clearly on a roll. "Every time Jess takes our babies for their shots, they're getting a new chip. And all those metal detectors and the scanners in the store? They're not there for safety, they're reading those chips. The government tracks your every move, watches you all the time…"

"Sam!" Dean yelled.

"What?!"

"There's a cop trying to pull you over," Dean calmly informed him, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "And before you panic, it's probably because you ran a stop sign and you're speeding."

Sam swore a blue streak. "What should we do? Bolt?"

"Just pull over, you idiot! He's going to be pissed enough as it is." Dean craned his neck around to look at the silent man holding him. "Hey, buddy, I don't suppose there's any chance you'll let me go now? This cop is not going to like that I'm sitting on your lap."

But Castiel still looked upset, and his grip didn't loosen.

Sam pulled over and got his paperwork ready, muttering what sounded like a prayer under his breath. Dean felt Castiel's arms get even tighter around him and tapped on them. "Cass? You need to loosen up, buddy, I can't breathe too well. Thanks. Listen, no one is going to hurt me, or any of us, ok? We're all going to be just fine," he repeated, louder for Sammy's benefit. "Now, Cass, I need you to just sit here quietly and let this cop do his thing. Don't say anything unless he asks you something. Really, you don't have to tell him anything but your name, so let us do most of the talking here. Alright?"

"Alright." Castiel looked unconvinced. He was still frowning, but at least he didn't look like he was about to tear the cop's head off. The look he'd given Agent Morningstar had been chilling. Dean considered it progress.

The cop was at Sam's window. "License, insurance, and registration, please?"

Sam meekly handed them over. "I guess I was going pretty fast, huh?"

"Yes, yes you were," the cop confirmed, looking at Sam's papers. "And you ran a stop sign."

Sam slumped. "I'm really sorry, officer."

The officer's eyes were on Dean and Castiel. "You know that's not safe, both of you in one seat belt?" he asked. His eyes fixed on Castiel. "You could really hurt him if you got in an accident, buddy. You'd press him into the seat belt. What were you thinking?"

"Castiel Novak, escort service," Castiel announced.

The cop blinked as Dean and Sam cringed. But then he smiled, looking at Dean. "Special occasion?"

"It's my birthday," Dean replied weakly.

The cop chuckled. "Well, hell of a nice choice there, brother. I can't really support prostitution, but between you and me, I'm tempted to look him up!" The cop smiled brightly at Castiel. Castiel smiled back. "Those blue eyes, damn, brother! I can see why you're in a hurry to get home, but it's not worth your life."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Dean managed.

Suddenly much friendlier, the cop returned his attention to Sam. "Ok, buddy, I'll let you off with a warning, since it's your friend's birthday and all. But you need to slow it down. I get you're excited and anxious to get where you're going, but don't kill your friend on his birthday, ok?"

"Got it," Sam managed.

"And as for you, gorgeous?" The cop was back to Dean. "Happy birthday. Now get off this lovely thing's lap and get into your own seatbelt."

"Yes, sir. Let go of me, Cass." To Dean's relief, Castiel let him go. He unfastened Castiel's belt, climbed into his seat, and they both buckled up. "Thank you very much, officer."

"It's Officer Dan Cole, handsome, if you're ever interested in company you don't have to pay for. Not that I blame you, this guy's smoking hot. He's worth whatever you paid. Now you three get going. Have a good time, and stay strong!" The officer slapped the side of the minivan, gave a jaunty salute, and returned to his vehicle.

Sam meekly pulled back out into the street, this time careful to obey applicable traffic laws. "Dean?" he called. "Your luck is incredible. Most of the time it's shit. But every so often, it turns into gold and you find the one understanding gay cop on the entire force!"

"Can we please just get back?" Dean asked.

"Why, you got an appointment?" Sam grumbled.

"Yeah. As soon as we get in the door, I'm having a heart attack."