The court broke for the day before testimony resumed the next morning. Before the prosecution was allowed to call any new witnesses, it was Dawn's turn to deliver her cross-examination of the arresting officer who had first pulled Caleb and the boys over. It would prove to be a critical cross-examination from Dawn, since this was the charge that had the potential of carrying a life sentence for him, if the jury was that cruel, and if the fates were so clearly not on his side.

As he went through the familiar routine of being transported to the county courthouse for the continuation of the prosecution's case, he tried to envision Dawn delivering a cross-examination that would obliterate what the prosecution had managed to score against him, and render his testimony unreliable. It would be tough, though. The police officer wasn't an idiot, and would have followed all laws associated with making the arrest, but he was hoping that she would delve into what happened after the arrest, when the boys had made a run for it.

If that didn't prove they weren't scared of him, he didn't know what would. He let those thoughts guide him as the guards led him through the halls of the courtroom until they reached the holding cell area that he would have to wait in until his case was called for the day. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. Within the hour, the guards were back to lead him into the courtroom, and when the restraints came off, he automatically felt better as they sat him down next to Dawn, who was reviewing her final notes before the officer was called again.

"Hey," he whispered, sneaking a peek at her notes.

"Hi. Sleep well?" she asked, no doubt catching a look at the dark circles under his eyes, and the way that he seemed to be stifling a yawn every time he tried to speak.

"Nope. Every time I did, the mattress was digging into my back."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Not that he was necessarily picky about what he slept on, but the jail mattress took the cake for the most uncomfortable bed that he had ever slept on. It hadn't helped his chronic insomnia since being booked into the county jail, and as a result, he came into court exhausted, and often counting down the hours until he could lay back down again.

"Not your fault," he said, hiding a yawn behind his hand. "What are you going to do with this cop?"

"Get him to admit a few things."

"Like what?"

She didn't get a chance to answer: the judge entered the room, and then the proceedings got under way again. As predicted, the police officer was the first person on the stand that morning, and Dawn got her chance to hammer in her cross-examination of the officer.

"Your Honor," Dawn said, before addressing the witness. "At this point, I would like to ask permission to inquire about some issues that were not covered in the State's direct exam."

It was one of the "rules" of cross-examination. The defense was not allowed to interrogate the prosecution's witness about issues that hadn't been covered in the direct examination, without first clearing it with a judge.

"You may proceed," the judge said, "but carefully," he added.

"Thank you. When did you first get the APB on your radar?"

"About an hour before I made the stop."

"Okay, and during your direct exam yesterday, you said you only pulled over my client for a traffic violation. So, it wasn't for the APB?"

"That was the initial cause, yes, and then I took a deeper look into my radar."

"And how soon after you pulled him over did you realize who you were dealing with?"

"Very soon after. Before I got out of the vehicle."

"Did the defendant actually say that he was trying to flee with the boys?"

"No. He said that he was just trying to spend more time with the boys before he had to surrender them."

"He never said he was trying to run, correct?"

"That is correct, yes."

"Then what did you say?"

"I informed him that, despite his intentions, the law was clearly defined when it concerned these types of offenses."

"And what offense did he commit?"

"I told him that he was committing kidnapping by failing to turn them over to the custody of the state, and then he was caught outside the state lines."

"Alright," Dawn said, "so he didn't resist you when you were arresting him?"

"No, I could tell he was tense, but he didn't make any moves to fight me."

"Okay, and then fast foreword a few minutes. What did you do after he had been taken?"

"I went to talk to the children."

"And what did you do?"

"I instructed them to step outside of the car."

Caleb knew what happened after that from what Dawn had told him, and it broke his heart that they had been put in that terrifying position to hear what the officer had next told them.

"And then you told them that the defendant had been placed under arrest, right?"

"Yes."

Dawn knew this would go a long way in disproving the theory by the prosecution that the boys had been abused, and that they had been taken somewhere against their will.

"And what was Dean's reaction when you informed him that my client had been arrested?"

"He was...he was visibly upset."

"And what did he do?"

"He grabbed his brother and ran from us."

From what Dawn had told him, Dean had grabbed Sam's hand and had made a run for it into the woods, where it would be a lot harder for the police to find them. Especially with the concealment techniques Caleb had taught both of them.

"Is that," Dawn said, diving into dangerous territory "The symptoms of a scarred, abused, kidnapped child-"

"Objection!" Mark Williamson interjected.

"Overruled," the judge said. "But proceed with caution, and rephrase your question."

Dawn nodded, taking a deep breath, before doing her best to rephrase the question while still going for the same answer she was hoping for. "In your line of work, do children typically exhibit certain behaviors when they have been abused and then kidnapped?"

"I have seen many different behaviors from many different children. No two children are the same."

"Is it something you pick up? Or is it something you're trained to look for?"

"We know the signs from training, and our own personal instincts."

"What does your training encompass, exactly?"

"To a certain degree we have to undergo child and adult psychology courses as part of the overall police training process in order to appropriately converse and deal with children and adults who may have been placed in traumatic or dangerous situations."

"Alright," Dawn said, "and drawing on past experiences and your training, obviously, did Sam and Dean Winchester show any of the signs of abuse and fear that you have come to associate with children who have been alleged victims of a kidnapping and abuse crime?"

"No," the officer said. "They were afraid, but I took that to mean that they were scared of me."

"But from the limited interaction you saw between them and the defendant, they did not show any fear, correct?"

"Correct."

"No further questions."


Dean wasn't sure he wanted to do this at all. It had only been at Bobby's urging, he had even agreed to go, but now, walking into the football stadium with his friends, he was beginning to regret his decision.

Some of his friends from school had heard that he was back, and had invited him to go to a football game the school was having. The only reason he decided to take them up on their offer, was that the principal would safely be far away from the game, and he wouldn't have to worry about running into him during the game.

"Where have you been, by the way?" his friend Jack asked, as they settled themselves into the stands to watch the game.

"Just doing stuff," Dean said with a shrug, as he dug in his pocket for his camera.

It wasn't anything he felt like he could confide in with his friends; even though they were some of his best friends in the world, there were certain parts of his private life that the kept private.

"Like what?"

"Stuff," Dean said again. "What about you?"

"Not much, except I went out with Rachel Liner."

"The girl from first-"

"Second period," Jack corrected, as the cheerleaders came out onto the field. "She's awesome, she really is."

"Awesome," Dean said, shaking his head in amusement. "You think I might be able to score a date with some of those girls?" he asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the cheerleaders, who were cheering to the school song.

"Probably," Jack said, "and I will be there to help you every step of the way-"

"Yeah," Dean said with a scoff. "Like I need your help, idiot."

"Wow," Jack said, feigning hurt. "So anyway, how's your brother?"

"Annoying as hell," Dean said with a rare smile, "but he's good other than that."

"That's good. How has it been since Jim-"

"Fine," Dean interjected, not wanting to dive into crap that he would much rather leave by the wayside, at least for one night.

"Alright. Are you coming back to school?"

"Probably not."

"Seriously?" Jack said, raising an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because," Dean said with a shrug. "I don't want to go back there."

"But why? Are we really that boring?"

"Yeah," Dean said with a short laugh. "You guys are awful. But our principal, sorry to say, is a dick."

"I knew that already. Still doesn't explain why-"

"Just some personal crap," Dean said. "Who knows? Maybe one day I'll come back, but not for right now."

"Okay. Can we still hang out?"

"Sure."