MJ looked back up at Dean. She considered her brother for a long moment, images of what she had done to the inmate at the jail and the possessed hockey player running through her mind. Sam had seen what she'd done at the hockey game, but didn't know about all of it. And it didn't seem like Sam had told Dean anything. She swallowed, eyes still on her brother. A clean slate.

"Deal." She agreed.

Dean smiled down at her, looking relieved.

"And there's actually something I need to tell you," MJ began.

The relief on Dean's face flickered as he waited for her to continue.

They were interrupted by a knock on the open door. They both looked up to see a woman who was undoubtedly a social worker standing in the doorway, flanked by two uniformed police officers.

MJ's stomach filled with dread as Dean went rigid beside her.

"Dean Sullivan?" The woman asked, looking at Dean, expression carefully neutral.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, standing, but not moving away from MJ's bed.

"I'm Catherine Mosley with Anoka County Child Protective Services. I'm going to need to speak with your sister alone please."

Dean pulled a confused look. "Maureen is eighteen. She's not a child. You can look at her paperwork." This was true, for the most part. Maureen Sullivan from Worcester Massachusetts was eighteen, and it was her insurance information they'd given the hospital.

One of the cops stepped forward into the room. "Sir, I'm going to need you to come with us."

Dean looked down at his sister, giving her a long, troubled look. MJ looked back up at him, panic evident on her face.

"Sir." The officer called impatiently.

"I'm coming." Dean answered begrudgingly making his way toward the door. The woman stepped to the side, eyes on Dean as he passed her and followed the cops into the hallway. His heart hammered in his chest. He wondered how much these people knew, even as he worked through a plan of escape in his head. They had to get out of here before they figured out exactly who they all were, arrested Sam and Dean and hauled MJ off to foster care. Dean said a silent prayer that they hadn't uncovered their true identities yet.

The taller of the two cops nodded to his partner, then closed the door to MJ's room behind him, walking deliberately down the hallway to Sam's room and ducking inside.

Shit, Dean thought, his stomach dropping. The other cop approached him, pulling out his little notebook as he began questioning Dean right there in the hallway. "Mr. Sullivan, I'm Officer McNeil. I need to ask you some questions about the fire."

Dean tried to look confused. "Well, I don't know anything about it. I wasn't even there until after the firemen got there."

"Why were you there at all?"

Dean fought to keep his temper in check. "My brother called me. Said they needed help. When I got there it was burning."

"Who's 'they'?" He asked, scribbling in his notebook.

"Sam and Maureen." He answered shortly.

"Your brother and sister?" The cop verified, eyes back on Dean.

Dean swallowed. "Yeah."

"What were your brother and sister doing inside? That bar was an active crime scene. A man had been murdered there just hours before and your siblings just walk on in. Why?"

Dean shrugged. "You'd have to ask them that."

The officer stared at Dean for a long moment. Dean was getting a pissed off, fed up vibe from this guy. He wondered if Sam was fairing any better.

"You live in Massachusetts?"

Dean gave a quick nod.

"What are you doing in Ham Lake?"

"Just passing through."

The officer nodded, his mouth set in a hard line. "Family vacation?" He asked, his tone definitely mocking.

"Something like that."

"It's funny," He began, his expression suggesting he didn't find this funny at all. "When the doctor ran your sister's information," The way he said sister, clearly told Dean this cop did not believe MJ was related to Dean, "it showed her having an emergency appendectomy two days ago in Boston. Doc examined her and she doesn't have any incision." He just stared back at Dean, his mouth set in a hard line.

Dean blanched, tried for an unaffected grin. "She's a fast healer?"

The cop nodded, paging through the file folder in his hand. "Doc got a picture of Maureen from her medical record." He pulled a black and white copy of a photograph from the file and thrust it in Dean's face. It wasn't a high quality image, but it was plain as day that Maureen Sullivan was Asian.

The cop took a step closer to Dean. "Who are you?" He demanded, voice rising.

"Look this is all just a misunderstanding." Dean took a step back, hands held up in a placating manner. It took the cop about five seconds to grab Dean by his wrists, spin him around and cuff his hands behind his back. Dean didn't fight it, hanging his head and heaving a low sigh. This was gonna be a long night.

Dean had been sitting in the windowless interrogation room for what he guessed was about four hours. There was no clock so he couldn't be sure. Once in a while someone would walk by outside. A muffled voice floated in here and there, but for the most part is was quiet. His patience was wearing thin. No one had been in to talk to him and he had no way of knowing what was going on with Sam and MJ. If they'd figured out who they all really were then it was only a matter of time before he and Sam were sitting in jail and MJ was hauled off to foster care. Dean ran his cuffed hands down over his face. This was a disaster. He needed his phone call. Needed to alert someone of their situation so they could figure out a way out of this mess. Who though…Bobby was close by, maybe he could figure a way to bust them out.

The door opened and Dean sat up, rigid in his chair as a tall, middle aged man opened the door and with an appraising look at Dean sat down across from him. He was wearing a tie that he'd loosened and a gun on his hip. There were dark circles under his eyes, but despite looking exhausted the guy seemed like someone you didn't mess with.

"Dean. I'm Detective Resnick." He announced. Even his voice sounded tired. He opened a file folder and looked down at the contents. Dean's stomach dropped when he saw his own mug shot, the one from St. Louis. So they definitely knew who they were. Shit. "So I know you've been in here a while," the detective continued. "I'll cut to the chase. You've got outstanding arrest warrants in three states, including Missouri, I mean, now that you've been…undeclared dead" he closed the folder and tossed it aside, "if that's a thing." He said seemingly to himself. He looked up at Dean, eyes hard. "Of course they can all get in line, because now you're connected to 5 murders and an arson here." He folded his hands on the table and leaned toward Dean. "I've got you for insurance fraud, identity theft, and after talking to that social worker from Chicago, maybe even kidnapping."

Up to this point Dean had been looking determinedly down at the table, his expression as neutral as he could manage. But when the detective mentioned kidnapping, Dean's eyes snapped up to meet the other man's. "Kidnapping, what are you-"

"You and Sam…you've done some messed up shit, Dean. So going on the run with the little redhead," he shrugged, "That sorta pales in comparison wouldn't you say?"

"We didn't go on the run, she-"

"It does leave me with one question, though," the detective interrupted again, leaning closer, almost conspiratorially. When he spoke again it was in a lowered voice and there was almost a smirk on his face. "Which one of you is banging her?"

Dean's jaw clenched and he yanked at the cuffs where they were anchored to the table. "No one is banging her." Dean ground out, seething.

The detective sat back slowly, shrugging. "Well," he opened the folder back up and pulled out a picture of MJ. "That's a waste."

Dean jumped to his feet, yanking painfully at the cuffs. "Watch your God damn mouth!" He growled.

Dean loomed over the other man, seething, glaring daggers at him.

Detective Resnick was unfazed. He sat, relaxed, looking up at Dean. The almost smirk was gone replaced with a serious, no nonsense look. He was silent for a beat, then nodded at Dean's vacated chair. "Sit down, Dean."

Dean stood there another few seconds, jaw clenched, pissed beyond words. Finally he sat back down, still glaring at the detective.

"When they brought you in last night, Dean I gotta tell ya, I had no idea what to make of you and Sam. I mean," he waved his hand at the folder, "Some of this stuff is some real psycho shit. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Then I saw that your names popped up last year in a case a couple counties north of here. I talked to a deputy up there who told me you two saved her life. In fact," he paused giving Dean a searching look, "She says you and Sam are in the business of saving lives." He paused, leaning back in his chair. "She also said you guys…specialize in weird."

Dean was still glaring at the detective. "What is it you want from me, pal?" He spat.

"Your help," Resnick stated simply. "I've got a case that I think might be right up your alley."

Dean gave a humorless chuckle. "Well, gee, boss, I'd love to help you out, but I'm a little occupied right now." He held up his cuffed hands.

Resnick shifted in his chair. "I was thinking maybe we could help each other. See, Dean, I've got 4 dead hockey players, a bartender beaten to death and a charred shithole bar in the middle of downtown. When I start looking a little closer, I find a girl's diary that doesn't paint those boys in the best light. So I could arrest you for conspiracy to commit murder and arson." Dean opened his mouth to argue, but the detective cut him off. "Or I could chalk it up to 4 dead rapists and the end of an eye sore in the middle of our city."

"If?" Dean demanded testily. He was getting sick of this and wished this guy would get to the point.

"Here's my offer," Resnick folded his hands on the table again, "you and Sam help me with a case and I let you walk. Any charges here will be dropped and I'll stall the out of state warrants as long as I can."

Dean considered the man carefully, "And what about this kidnapping bull?" He hedged.

The detective e shrugged. "There's no charges right now. Just a family court warrant for you to return with your sister to Chicago immediately. I can sit on that easy, but this caseworker? She's got a serious hard on for you. I wouldn't be surprised if she's on her way here now."

"Fuck." Dean spat.

"Of course, it'll be a lot easier for you to deal with that if you're not sitting in here cuffed to a table."

Dean swallowed, considered the detective carefully, "Where's my brother and sister now?" he asked finally.

The detective jerked his head toward the door. "Sam's across the hall. MJ's still at the hospital. They'll keep her until that caseworker gets here."

The detective fell silent, clearly waiting for Dean to give him his answer.

"Fine," Dean agreed. "Get me out of here and we'll do whatever you want."

"Deal." Detective Resnick stood. "As long as Sam agrees too, you'll both be out of here within the hour. I'll meet you at your motel tonight at 9. I'm assuming it goes without saying that the deal is off if you run."

"We'll be there. And trust me, Sam will go for it." Dean gave the detective a resentful look, but held his tongue. He just needed out of here. As soon as possible so he could fix this.

The detective nodded, heading toward the door. He paused with his hand on the door knob and turned back toward Dean fixing him with a sincere gaze. "Listen, sorry about that off color comment about Mary Jane. I had to be sure you were really her brother and not some pedophile. It was the quickest way."

Dean made no response. In his head he was already making plans for getting MJ out of that hospital.

An agonizing thirty minutes later, Dean and Sam walked out of the police station. It was barely dawn, but Dean knew he didn't have a minute to waste. He pulled out his phone, half running down the sidewalk, Sam hot on his heels.

"Dean, what the hell happened in there? Did you really agree to stick around here and help the cops?"

Dean waved Sam off as he dialed his phone. He put the phone to his ear, crossing the street. He had no destination in mind. His only objectives at the moment were getting away from the police station and figuring out a way to get to MJ.

"Dean, talk to me. Who are you calling? We need to get MJ and get the hell out of town." Sam pleaded desperately.

Dean ignored Sam, heaving an audible sigh of relief when the call connected.

"Hey, it's me. Thank God you answered. I really need your help."

MJ felt like a caged animal. Since Dean was forced to leave her hospital room she hadn't been left alone for a second. The local CPS worker, Catherine Mosley, spent an hour talking to MJ, trying to get her to tell her her real name. She'd asked questions that made MJ want to throw something: Who were those two men she was traveling with? Had they threatened her in some way to get her to go along with them? Did they make her uncomfortable in any way? MJ had stuck with their original story: she was Maureen Sullivan from Worcester, Massachusetts and Sam and Dean were her brothers. But then that cop had joined the party in her hospital room and shown MJ a photo of the real Maureen Sullivan.

Oops, MJ thought, guess that jig is up.

MJ continued to insist that she was eighteen and that Sam and Dean were really her brothers, which was only half false. After about forty-five minutes of MJ's repeated denials, the cop seemed to lose patience with her and left the room. Catherine took a break from her questioning after that, but didn't leave the room, just stood by the window paging through her files and casting concerned glances in MJ's direction. MJ's hands ached. Her throat burned and she was exhausted, but more than anything she was sick with worry. She had no idea where Sam and Dean were and what was happening to them. Early on in Catherine's interrogation, MJ had asked where her brothers were. Catherine had taken her time responding, seemed to be crafting her answer carefully.

"Sam and Dean are somewhere where they can't hurt you. You're safe now." She's assured MJ.

MJ knew she wouldn't get any more information than that, so she hadn't brought it up again. Besides, that cop confronting her about not really being Maureen Sullivan pretty much confirmed what MJ had already suspected: Sam and Dean were in jail. It was a matter of time before they figured out who they all were and then MJ was headed back to foster care. MJ was near panicked when the cop poked his head in and cleared his throat, signaling for Catherine to come to the door. They stood in the hallway. MJ could see them talking right outside the window of her room. Mj quickly scanned the room. There was one door and one window. It looked like she was on the second floor, which meant the window was out of the question. Tears sprang to her eyes. She had to get out of here. Now. Less than a minute after leaving the room, Catherine returned, renewed determination in her eyes. She sat next to MJ's bed, clearing her throat.

"Listen, the police know who Sam and Dean really are. They know that they've hurt a lot of people. And they know that they kidnapped you , Mary Jane."

"They didn't kidnap me, they saved me. You don't know anything!" MJ bit out, fighting back the tears.

"Mary Jane, they can't hurt you anymore. It's okay. You don't have to be afraid of them." Catherine said in what MJ knew she meant to be a soothing voice, but just pissed MJ off even more.

MJ shook her head, lifting a heavily bandaged hand in agitation. "You don't know anything about them. They're good men. They've never hurt me, all they've done is try to keep me safe." She insisted. She knew it was futile, that none of these people were going to listen to anything MJ said, but she couldn't sit here and listen to this woman bash her brothers and not defend them.

Catherine kept at it, trying to convince MJ she could tell the truth and MJ continued to adamantly deny her brothers were criminals, until finally, the woman sat back in her chair with a defeated sigh.

"Okay, Mary Jane. I understand you don't want to talk to me right now. That's okay. I'm just going to stay here with you until your caseworker from Chicago gets here."

"What? Who?" MJ asked, heart racing. Someone was coming to take her back to Chicago…this was even worse than she thought.

"Well, you haven't met her yet, but she called earlier and said she'd be here by morning so I expect her any time now. Her name is Tanya Stevens and she only wants what's best for you, just like I do."

MJ didn't respond, except to close her eyes and shake her head in disbelief. She turned away from Catherine and continued to try to think of a way out of this.

MJ had drifted into an uneasy sleep after realizing Catherine was true to her word and wasn't going to leave her alone at all. The woman had taken a bathroom break and had the cop from before come back into the room while she was gone. She had to admit, this lady wasn't stupid. She knew MJ would run if given the chance. It was late morning when MJ had finally closed her eyes, physically and mentally exhausted.

MJ was woken from her restless sleep by a quick, insistent knock at the door. She turned toward the door as it opened, and her heart leapt when she saw who it was.

Jenna blew into the room, looking determined and cranky. She spared MJ a brief glance, before setting her sights on the woman in the chair at MJ's bedside.

"Catherine Mosley?" Jenna asked, a no nonsense air about her that MJ had never seen.

Catherine stood extending her hand to Jenna. "Hi, you must be Tanya Stevens. Nice to meet you." Jenna shook Catherine's hand briefly, before showing the woman her ID badge and handing her a document.

"Good to meet you. Here's the order for Mary Jane to be returned to Cook County, Illinois. Everything's in order. I talked to the doctor and he said she's ready for discharge."

Catherine seemed slightly taken aback. "Oh, well, I was hoping we could meet, exchange information before you left with her."

Jenna was shaking her head before Catherine had finished speaking. "I'm afraid that's impossible. Mary Jane and I are booked on a flight back to Chicago in less than two hours. Unfortunately we have to leave now."

Catherine looked like she was going to plead her case further, but Jenna had already turned away from her and approached MJ, who had been watching this exchange, a little confused and still shocked at seeing Jenna here.

"Ms. Hansen, get dressed. I'll gather your belongings. Please move quickly. I know you don't want to go back, but you're not safe with Sam and Dean." Jenna winked, but gave MJ a look that told her they really were in a hurry. MJ did not need convincing. She was more than ready to get out of this hospital. MJ threw back her blankets and got quickly to her feet. She saw the suspicious look Catherine was giving her and realized that the woman expected her to give "Tanya" a hard time about going with her. MJ quickly fixed Jenna with a defiant glare.

"I'm not leaving my brothers." She argued. She tried to cross her arms in an obstinate gesture, and grimaced in pain at the pressure it put on her sore and tender bandaged hands.

"We don't have time to argue about this Mary Jane. Your brothers are both in jail and if you refuse to go with me you'll only make things worse for them. Is that what you want? They're already in enough trouble." Jenna warned, handing MJ some clothes.

MJ tried to pull a resigned, pissed off face as she made her way into the bathroom to change.

MJ could hear Jenna and Catherine's conversation through the partially opened bathroom door as she slipped off the hospital gown.

"Thank you for being so understanding about this. I know it's a quick turn-around, but these two men? They're very dangerous individuals. The faster we get Mary Jane away from them the better."

Jeez, Jenna, laying it on pretty thick don't you think? MJ thought. MJ called out for help, once she realized she couldn't even dress herself with the thick bandages covering both hands and wrists. Jenna came in and quickly helped MJ into the sweats and hoodie. She didn't say anything, but gave MJ a genuine, reassuring smile.

Jenna thanked Catherine again as all three of them walked past the cop and got on the elevator. They finally parted ways in the parking lot, Catherine waving as she drove off. Once the other woman was out of sight, Jenna pulled MJ into a fierce embrace.

"Jesus, that was close." She breathed, as she pulled away, holding MJ at arm's length and looking her over. "Are you okay?"

"Jenna, how-"

"No time," Jenna interrupted, guiding MJ by the elbow to a black sedan. "I'll explain while we drive. We gotta get outta here before the real Tanya Stevens shows up." Jenna opened the passenger door and waited for MJ to settle in before leaning over to buckle MJ's seatbelt. MJ noticed Jenna's ID badge, the one she'd shown Catherine hanging around Jenna's neck. It had Jenna's photo on it. "Tanya Stevens, Cook County Child Protective Services" was written across the bottom.

"Jenna, how did you get that done so quick?" MJ asked, clearly impressed.

Jenna smirked, straightening up. "Don't look so surprised," she said, hand on the car door. "Your brothers aren't the only ones who can impersonate government officials. Admit it, I'm awesome." She winked again before closing the car door.

"It's like talking to a female Dean," MJ muttered to herself.