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chapter 6

"Dean..." the new man coaxed. He was obviously trying to "good cop" routine. It was not working, Dean still didn't say anything.

"Do you have any history of mental illness?"

That question got Dean's attention. He looked up, caught the mans eyes and broke into a grin. "Why-?"

The man shrugged carelessly, " You've had a hard life Dean. Mother dead at a young age-"

That wiped the smile right off Deans face. He was about to reply when the door opened and the detective from before came in. He wore an annoyed expression. "You're free to

go Mr Winchester. Thank you for your time. I am sorry for your loss." Dean was surprised but he stood up. He was eager to go.

"No you're not sorry." He said softly as he reached the door. "You're sorry that I'm innocent. You're sorry that you have no clue how did it. You're also sorry that you're an

incompetent asshole." He mouthed the last two words.

"Careful Mr Winchester or I may have to caution you for verbally abusing a police officer."

"Prove it," goaded Dean recklessly. "Chuckles here won't back you up. And the cameras point here and here ( he pointed), nowhere near me. And I personally don't think that

anyone's going to believe you, not after today. Sour grapes and all that." Dean strode out, leaving an astonished silence in his wake.

"Dean!" someone called his name. As he turned, someone clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Dad, hey-" He tried to explain his situation but John cut him off.

"I can't leave you alone for an hour can I?" John smiled tiredly as he lead Dean, who was speechless,to his car.

"How did you know that I was there?" Dean asked quietly. He examined his hands and refused to look up.

"One of them," he voiced the last word with disgust, " answered your cell. Told me where you were. I came right down and found out-"

"They thought I hurt Sammy?" he asked in a quiet voice. John nodded. HIs hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Completely ridiculous of course. I soon set em

straight." There was a note of pride in his voice.

"What did you do?"

"Aside from scaring an ugly looking detective?" JOhn smiled, "Gave you an alibi. If you ask me I let them off lightly. How dare they-" John broke off and glanced sideways at

Dean. A smile was forming on his lips.

"Thanks dad, thanks for not asking questions. Not judging me. Or doubting me. Thanks."

Two weeks later.

Dean stared into space. He couldn't look at anyone, which was difficult seeing as the modest living room was full. The people, men and women he and his family had interacted

with throughout his life. Some were there due to a sense of loyalty. The Winchesters had been there for them, in their time of need, and now was the time to repay the favor.

Dean didn't recognise half of them. He had seen Caleb, looking awkward in a suit in the kitchen. He had dodged Pastor Jim at least twice. Bobby had offered him his

condolences at one point. There was an odd hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. The clock on the mantle struck eleven.

Dean looked at, transfixed. All of a sudden, his dad was by his side shaking him gently. "It's time to go Dean."

NEXT CHAPTER: THE FUNERAL. ANGSTY (HOPEFULLY)