By the time the siblings had freshened up and returned to the main area of the bar, the largest of the tables there had been set for a meal. The two other patrons Sam had spied in the corner of the bar when he'd first arrived were now helping Ellen with the last of the serving dishes.

"Sam." Ellen smiled warmly at him as he and Dean approached. "Meet my daughter, Joanna Beth."

The young blonde next to her smiled up at Sam, whilst somehow also managing to give her mother an exasperated sidelong glance at the same time.

"It's Jo." She told him, extending a hand.

Sam had to smile back at that, understanding her sentiments entirely. "Jo." He affirmed, returning the handshake.

"And that over there is Ash." Ellen indicated to the sleeveless man at the far end of the table who already had a plate in his hand. The man acknowledged the introduction by giving Sam a distracted nod, eyes barely meeting his before they returned to the food spread before him. Sam was sure there was a more favourable way to describe him other than 'redneck mullet man', but right then his brain couldn't come up with anything better.

Dean settled at the closest seat, which happened to be at the head of the table and instantly reached for a beer. That didn't escape Sam's attention and he frowned as he took the seat beside him, directly opposite Bobby. Dean seemed more interested in the beer than the spread which was surprising, given that the food looked delicious. Even if Sam had been blind, the aromas would have assured him of the quality of the fare.

"All right, well help yourselves." Ellen said as she handed Sam a plate. "It ain't gourmet but it'll get the job done."

Something about the way she'd said that made Sam think she was apologising and he felt instantly abashed, memory of his earlier snobbishness coming back to haunt him.

"This looks great Ellen," he said, hoping his sincerity was obvious. "Really."

It truly did, especially given he'd been living on takeaways and diner food of late.

"Nouvelle cuisine can kiss my derrière." Ash said, not catching anything amiss between Sam and Ellen's exchange as he piled more food onto his already dangerously laden plate. "I'll take an honest home-cooked meal any day…" Then he looked up and paused, the mash covered serving spoon stalled mid scoop. "Or sashimi. I might go for that over this. Long as it's top grade and fresh. No offence Ell."

"None taken." Ellen replied, amused. "Especially seeing as you've had this home cooked meal, what is it? Two? Three times already this evening?"

"Where do you put it all?" Jo asked, eyeing Ash's plate in wonderment, seeming half genuinely curious, half outright jealous.

"A brain needs fuel," he drawled, his slight southern backwater twang curling over the words. "The harder it works, the more you gotta chow down. And mine," he tapped the side of his temple with his forefinger. "Is wired to a high energy consumption matrix."

"So with all that energy you've been consuming," Dean said from across the table. "You must've come up with something worthwhile by now."

There hadn't been anything particularly cutting about what Dean had said, but it was perhaps more the way in which he'd said it, his voice all but stilling the budding conversation around the table. Sam wasn't sure what the dynamic was amongst these people he was sharing a meal with, but up until Dean's comment he would have said it felt like a family. After Dean's words however even he felt the climate nosedive by a few degrees and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Across the table from them Ash swallowed down his mouthful of food, seeming to take a moment to choose his response.

"There wasn't a whole lot to go on," he said, then quickly carried on before Dean could remark on that. "But what little there is, it's running through the algorithms. Just need to wait now."

"And you're sure you haven't missed anything."

"I've gone over everything twice."

"Yet you've had three dinners." Dean said pointedly, fixing Ash with a stare that left Sam feeling glad he wasn't on the receiving end.

Ash blinked at Dean before ducking his head and standing.

"Right. Right, wouldn't hurt to go over it a third time. I'll just… let me just take one of these." He grabbed two more dinner rolls, pilling them onto his plate along with another piece of chicken which he clasped between his teeth before leaving the table.

"You know you could have at least let him finish his meal." Jo chided.

"I hear he's already had a meal." Dean said, taking a swig of beer. "Twice."

"He's been working non-stop," she maintained, the rebuke in her voice unmasked. "It wouldn't hurt you to cut him some slack."

Dean smiled, but it held a somewhat snarky edge. "Next time I want your opinion sweetheart, I'll be sure to leave a dollar in the tip jar."

Jo was clearly about to erupt at that when Ellen stepped in.

"Hey!" She snapped, aiming her ire at Dean. "Maybe when you leave that dollar I'll ring up your bar tab while we're at it, huh?"

Although Dean didn't outright apologise he at least had the good sense to keep his mouth shut, which was probably the closest thing to an apology he would give. Jo on the other hand was clearly still irate and was forming a retaliation, but her mother again intervened.

"Jo honey, would you mind checking on the kids?"

"Sure," the young woman relented after a beat, getting up to leave. As Dean reached for a fresh bottle however she grabbed it before he could get to it. "Get your own damned beer," she told him, walking away with the bottle.

Sam raised his eyebrows, not sure what to make of the exchange.

"Smooth," he commented, receiving a scowl from Dean in return.

"If you're done spreading your charm," Bobby said, buttering a roll and taking a bite. "Perhaps we can discuss more important things?"

"Knock yourselves out." Dean said, not bothering to hide his indifference as he got up, presumably to retrieve another beer.

"Sam," Bobby said, turning his attention to the younger Winchester and ignoring Dean's ill grace. "Your brother filled us in but I think it best if you go over the CCTV again at some point."

"You've got the footage?" Sam asked, surprised. "Do I want to know how?"

"Not unless you wanna kiss that plausible deniability goodbye." Dean remarked, returning to the table with a six-pack in hand. "In case you forgot, most of what we do isn't technically 'legal'."

"Right now? I couldn't care less. I'm just surprised you managed to get it. I thought the cops had it."

"Well let's just say Ash knows his way around a few things, and leave it at that." Bobby supplied. "Speaking of, he's got the police reports too. We've gone over them, but… Well I'm sorry Sam, I know it's not easy, but I'd still rather hear it from you."

Sam set his fork aside, chewing over his mouthful as he collated his thoughts and recollections. It didn't require much effort; he'd gone over those details, not only with the police and then Dean, but within himself as well, over and over. Each time he did, he couldn't repress the brittle strand of hope that wove its way through his narrative, and no matter how thin or incredulous it was, it made him believe that perhaps this time he would uncover some hidden clue or revelation. When he finished relaying the events once more however, he was once again left feeling crestfallen and somehow spent.

Bobby and Ellen asked a couple of questions, most of which were expected and which Dean had already quizzed him on previously. Several times during his statement however, Sam had noticed the subtle looks exchanged between the three of them. It bothered Sam, because he knew it meant they were keeping something from him, either to prevent him from worrying or for some other more serious reason. Either way, he didn't like being kept in the dark.

The four of them discussed next steps, but for the most part, there was nothing left to do right then.

The meal and discussion, compounded by the long haul drive, all compressed together to form the heavy weight on Sam's shoulders and he pushed his chair back, stretching his legs in hopes of dispelling the weary fingers of lethargy which had begun to crawl into his muscles.

Jo had started clearing the table by the time they were done talking and Sam stood, grabbing some plates.

"I'll give you a hand," he offered. "I've been sitting way too long anyway."

As he and Jo left, Bobby eyed Dean.

"Should I ask how the hunt went?" he queried as soon as Sam was beyond earshot.

Dean dragged a hand over his face, dredging memories of the last hunt out as though they were buried under a mountain of time. Thinking back, he couldn't believe it had been less than a couple of days.

"The Seal didn't get broken, so that's a win," he reported wearily. That should have made him feel good but it didn't. How could anything feel good, he thought sourly, if Sam was here and in trouble.

"We've not got any update on any of the others." Ellen informed him. "Not yet anyway."

The angels had directed Dean occasionally, pointing him towards Seals that needed protecting, but Dean didn't particularly enjoy feeling like their little errand boy, so Bobby, Ellen, Ash and Jo had all been working on deciphering clues hidden in ancient texts, doing their own research to help the cause.

But that was on hiatus for now as far as Dean was concerned.

"Forget it," he dismissed. "It's all on hold till I sort this mess out."

Ellen and Bobby exchanged a glance.

"You sure that's wise?" Ellen pressed.

Dean looked at her incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"All I'm saying–"

"How could you even think anything else matters right now?" he pressed, cutting her off.

"I'm not saying this isn't top priority. Of course it is," she appeased, voice remaining calm in the face of Dean's blatant irritation. "But unless you know something we don't, other than what Ash is already working on, trying to see if the weather patterns match up with any demon sightings or whatever it is he does, we've got nothing. And it'll stay that way unless you find something at Sam's place. So till then, makes sense for us to keep on track instead of just sitting here doing nothing. Especially if it turns out to be related."

"It's not." Dean said flatly, but even he knew he had no solid argument to back up his stance.

"We can't be sure." Bobby put in. "And Ellen's right. If we find out later that it is, better we stay on top of it now rather than play catch up later."

"And his son is what? Six months old?" Ellen added. "Isn't that the same age Sam was when–"

"I know what it is," Dean growled. "But Jess isn't dead. Sam didn't find her burning on the ceiling. There's nothing similar with what happened before."

"Dean–"

"No Bobby. No. Sam got out. He is out. All we really know right now is that Jess and Kyle are missing. That's it. So until we know why, he doesn't need to know anything else."

"How much does he know?" Bobby asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "About…?"

"About what's going on. With the Seals, with the Apocalypse."

"Nothing. And it stays that way."

"Are you sure?" Ellen challenged. "His family disappearing might be connected, for all we know."

"Am I not talking English here? There's no reason to think this has anything to do with anything. Until we know any different, there's no point making him any more worried than he already is."

"Dean–"

"Look. My brother wanted out, so he got out. And just because he's here now, doesn't mean I'm gonna pull him back into all this crap. Doesn't mean he's a hunter again. We figure out where his family is, I get them back, and send them all on their way. If it's got something to do with the Seals or the Apocalypse or anything, then fine, we'll deal with it. But till then? He doesn't need to know."

"All I'm saying," Bobby countered. "Is if he's gonna be hanging around here, which is the only safe place for him right now, he's bound to wonder what we're all working on."

"So?"

"So if he starts asking questions, don't expect any of us to start lying."

"Fine." Dean conceded, annoyed and unhappy but too tired to argue.

"What about Castiel?" Ellen asked. "Any leads from him?"

"Not yet." Dean replied evasively.

"You have spoken to him, haven't you?" Bobby pressed.

"It's not like I've got some special angel bat signal for him." Dean snapped. "When he makes an appearance I'll ask."

Bobby wanted to press Dean more about that, but he knew from past experience how quickly Dean clammed up when pressed about anything concerning the angel's involvement in his life.

"Fair enough I suppose," he conceded, allowing Dean off the hook for the time being. "But for the record, I don't trust any of them."


tbc