Sam Winchester's office was large and sparse and only partly dedicated to work. The other half contained a small set of gym equipment. He was over on that side now, the jacket of his uniform stripped off so the standard dark t-shirt was visible. He grasped the bar that was above his head and lifted himself off the ground, his arms bulging out of the sleeves. His chin hovered a few inches above the bar and then back down, a pause, and then back up, his breath leaving in a grunt. He wouldn't stop though, because when he finally did stop again, he would hear Jo. He had found that when he put himself through this, he couldn't hear her anymore. Unfortunately, it wasn't Jo that haunted him right now, all he could see was Dean's face the first time he had seen his brother in years. The bruise on his jaw assured him it had not been a dream.

His phone rang from the other side of the room. He dropped the floor with more grace than a man of his size should be able to boast.

"Hey Bobby." He said as he picked it up.

"Hey kid." The gruff voice of his mentor greeted him. He could just imagine what he looked like. In some high rise apartment but cluttered with artifacts.

"How are things down there?" Sam asked,

"Getting close, Raphael is making mistakes and the press is starting to eat him alive. I've been making my way onto the scene. Going to functions, but it makes me sick to be around all these Southerners."

Sam gave a smile. Bobby was a true Northerner through and through. To think that he would be the president of the South was an ironic twist in their plan.

Robert Singer was a Northern born and bred. He had lost his wife at the beginning of the war. Sam alone, truly alone now that Dean had left, had been taken under his wing. He had worked with Bobby, been introduced to Crowley by him, and been made the man he was today with Bobby's help.

The plan had been his idea. To assassinate Raphael, have Bobby run for the president, and slowly work negotiations over to the North. They had been working at it for over two years, buying people off, and killing those who refused in "accidents." The South's government was corrupt enough on its own it had been easy.

"So, I heard about the little strike we had last week." Bobby said. "You saw your brother."

Sam's jaw tightened. "Why didn't you tell me about Dean?" He asked, his voice a low burn.

"Because I didn't know!" Bobby said. "My ears are focused on the Capital right now, not on some humdrum little army camp! Only someone like Raphael would know that it is one of the headquarters for special ops!"

"I'm sorry Bobby." Sam apologized, he knew that his mentor had other priorities.

"We know to keep an eye on the place to see if they're any trouble." Bobby said.

"Sounds good, hey Bobby," Sam said then he trailed off. His eye was glued to the corner of a photograph sticking out of a file.

"What?"

"Thank you for the picture." He said, grabbing the corner of the photo and tugging it out. It was a photo of Olivia. She was facing slightly away from the camera, dressed in a tan trench coat, walking with her keys in hand to her car. The wind was blowing her hair to one side and her eyes on the ground. Just seeing it made his stomach clench. Everything else around her was blurry, taken through some long distance camera at a neighboring parking garage.

"You're welcome, even though I think you're damn idjit for wanting it." Bobby said.

Sam gave a smirk and returned it to the file, it contained about ten other pictures of her. Most of them similar to the one he had held in his hand, though there was a personal favorite where she had been in the park in the spring time. She had braved short sleeves that day and she had sat in a shady spot behind a wall of ivy. Her outstretched arm showed the pentagram carved against her skin. The file closed, blocking her from view. The absence of this distraction pulled him back to the matter at hand.

"Just one more week." Sam said.

"Yep, this crap of a country, won't know what hit them." Bobby said, his voice delighted.

"Let me know when you hear more about Dean." Sam said before he hung up. "I'd like to know what my big brother has been up to."

xXx

Elizabeth woke up to the smell of breakfast. For one wild moment she thought she was home, even though it had been months since she had visited. Everything came back to her from last night. She smiled into her pillow when the memory of Dean saying he loved her reached her. Speaking of Dean, she grabbed his shirt from where it had been dropped the night before and walked into the kitchen buttoning it up. Dean was standing shirtless at the stove poking the eggs in the pan.

"Now that's a sight I could get used to." Elizabeth said dragging her eyes down his body. Dean turned the burner off and looked down at her in his shirt.

"I'd say the same for you." Dean said biting his lip and raising his eyebrows. He leaned down and gave her a long kiss. She felt him smile halfway through. There was a little snap as the toast popped.

"So we don't have work today, what do you want to do?" Elizabeth asked as she spread jam on the bread. Dean slid a plate in front of her.

"We could go into the capital. Have you ever been?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Well, I think what a boyfriend would do is take you shopping or something?" Dean asked looking uncertain.

It was so adorable that Elizabeth laughed, and told him anything would be fine. They agreed to finish breakfast and then head out. Elizabeth had just gotten out of the shower and was toweling her hair off when her phone rang.

"Hello?" She said into the phone.

"Sergeant Curran?" A male voice said through the phone.

"Yes."

"We have to ask you to come into the main office today. We need to talk to you." His voice was so serious and Elizabeth felt a weight drop to the bottom of her stomach. Dean had come in and saw her face.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Elizabeth said. She hung up and took a breath to steady herself.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, the army called and told me they wanted me to come in." Her mind went into panic mode, "What if it's my family?" She said as she hurried and got dressed. "Would they call me about that?" She said.

"They would send someone over for that." Dean said trying to soothe her. "We can call your parents on the way over."

Her wet hair was pulled hurriedly into a bun and soon they were in his car on the way over. Her mom had answered the phone and reassured her that everyone was fine, even though she sounded confused as to why she was calling. Elizabeth sat back in her seat, her worst fear elevated, now confused.

"It's gonna be okay." Dean said.

They pulled up and Elizabeth found Campbell waiting for her in the hall.

"Come with me, Curran, you can wait here Harvelle." He said. He looked over her shoulder at Dean, giving him a look that was distinctly unfriendly. Elizabeth gritted her teeth but followed him anyway.

The elevator travelled upwards, and Campbell was silent. They got off and walked to a conference room. A gruff looking man with spiky grey hair sat there in a suit.

"Please take a seat." The man said. Elizabeth sat down.

"I am Detective Gently and I work for the army for investigations. I would like to discuss the incident that occurred two weeks ago."

"You mean when I was tortured by Sam Winchester?" Elizabeth said. Mr. Gently shook his head.

"No, we have been asked to begin an investigation on how that mission became disrupted and resulted in the death of Sergeant Todd Surge and your torture. Are you acquainted with Sergeant Leonard Tern?"

"Yes I know Lonnie." Elizabeth said growing more confused.

"Sergeant Tern, when I interviewed about the incident told me, that your team had successfully planted the explosives and you were on your way back when you and Surge were adamant about investigating a room that appeared to contain information that could prove useful. This breach from orders caused the three of you to be caught and resulted in a death."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open in shock.

"Tern is lying! We were on our way back when Surge and Tern insisted on investigating that room, against my protests!"

Gently pursed his lips and looked down at the paper.

"You are saying that Tern has given a false testimony?" He said slowly.

"Yes!" Elizabeth said adamantly.

"This is a very serious thing both of you are accusing each other of. There will be further investigation. For the time being consider yourself on paid suspension." He said getting up and gathering his papers. Elizabeth sat dumbfounded.

"Where is Tern?" She asked.

"I can't tell you that." Gently said.

Elizabeth knew he probably thought she was going to kill him. Hell she could but she needed to know why he would do that to her.

Gently left her alone in the room and Elizabeth sat there dumbfounded.

"Tough break." A voice behind her said and she turned her head to see Campbell leaning against the door. His arms were folded over his chest and he was smirking. In that instant, Elizabeth knew he had something to do with this.

"Why did you put Lonnie up to this?" Elizabeth asked, standing up.

"That's a pretty serious accusation." Campbell said.

"Not when it's the truth." Elizabeth said icily. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this and when I do, you are never going to show your face anywhere near the army again." She began to leave.

Campbell gave a laugh. "You think they'll believe a sergeant who's fresh from the academy and a woman besides? They'll never believe you."

Elizabeth looked back at him as she left. "Don't be so sure of that." She said her voice a warning. It did stop the laugh for a brief moment and then she left.

xXx

Olivia greeted the new day with a sense of dread. It had been two weeks now that she had been taken prisoner and each day was similar. Hours of talking to Sam and being cut, and screaming and him being too close. The guards came eventually to take her and once again she was taken to the same room. However, Sam was at the door when they arrived.

"You can take her handcuffs off." Sam said.

"She could attack." One of the guards said.

Sam lifted and eyebrow and moved his eyes down the eleven inches he had over Olivia as well at least seventy five pounds on her.

"I think I can take her. Now uncuff her."

They were unsnapped from her wrist and she was led inside. She stood stiffly with her back against the door her eyes trained on Sam as he walked away. Olivia was like a caged animal, she remembered watching a snake her family had owned when she was little. They would drop a live rat into the cage and wait for the constrictor to catch its meal. Sometimes it would take a while, but the snake always succeeded in the end. She looked around, she might not be able to fight him, but she could run.

Sam sat down on the edge of the table. He was watching her as if he was watching some interesting movie.

"Oh Olivia, you don't have to run you know, I just wanted to talk today."

Sam gestured to the chair and Olivia walked reluctantly forward. It had been the first time, since she first arrived that she had not been handcuffed in front of him.

"I brought a game today." Sam said, and he pulled out a wooden box. Inside was a chess set, with white and black porcelain pieces. He set the dark polished board down and began to set up the pieces.

"Do you know how to play?" He asked, looking up. Olivia nodded,

"I'm not good though."

"Me neither." Sam said with a laugh, it was almost friendly and it made Olivia feel strange, no one cared about her here.

The game began slowly, Olivia was always willing to sacrifice her pawns but eventually that led to her losing some larger pieces when she was forced to use them. Sam was more methodical, moving pieces back and forth, baiting her into the open.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked.

"I'm fine." Olivia said. She rolled one of his pawns she had captured between her fingers.

"You can tell me." Sam said looking at her, his forehead crinkling a little. Olivia shook her head.

"No, I can't. Just like everything else, I know it's going to be used against me."

There was a moment of silence as they played. Finally Sam spoke up again.

"I know you wish you were somewhere else."

"So observant." Olivia said acidly. He gave a small smile.

"Where do you wish you were?" He asked.

Olivia quietly killed his knight and then spoke.

"On the coast, my family owns a house on the beach. It's my favorite place." She said. Sam took her bishop.

"What it's like?" He asked.

"Why do you care?" She said "You hurt me every day and now you're asking where I would rather be and playing chess."

"Would you rather I keep torturing you?" Sam asked.

"No, but I don't know what you are doing here, and it scares me almost as much." Olivia said.

Sam looked like he wanted to say more, however he simply moved a piece again. To Olivia, for some reason, he looked almost hurt. Then it hit her, he was trying to be nice. As strange and as twisted as it was, he was trying to make this day bearable for her.

"I miss the ocean." She said quietly. "The way it sounds, and how salty it is, and how beautiful it always looks. I miss drawing on the beach."

Sam looked up.

"How are the oceans up here?" Olivia asked.

"Cold." Sam said immediately. Olivia gave a snort, the way he had said it so decidedly was slightly amusing, or she had been deprived of anything funny for a while.

"They are, we are supposed to swim them when we train."

"Another admirable trait." Olivia said sarcastically under her breath.

Sam either didn't hear her or ignored it. Olivia tucked her knee up so it was against her chest and moved her queen to block her king from an assault.

"Do you think every northerner is evil?" Sam asked suddenly, taking her queen.

Olivia considered for a moment before she shook her head.

"I think there is a lot of misinformation and prejudice. They may think evil but I don't think they are evil on purpose."

"I don't think the South telling the North that they have to fend for themselves when their people were starving counts as misinformation, and if it's prejudice then it's justified." Sam said heatedly.

"We barely had enough that winter to feed ourselves!" Olivia said,

"You're barely old enough to remember that!" Sam said, his eyes scornful and Olivia sat up straighter, her foot slamming to the floor.

"I am twenty years old but I'll be dammed if anyone calls me young or stupid!"

"You think just because you joined the army young and as a woman that you've proved something?" Sam said leaning forward. "Girls younger than you join every day. They join and no one gives them a pat on the back or a check for feminism, it's because it's what they are doing to simply survive and politics has nothing to do with it."

"Politics is what started this! The North wanting power is what started this!" Olivia said angrily.

"Everyone wants power!" Sam said.

"I don't!" Olivia said.

"That's because you've never had it." Sam said and his eyes were darker than she had ever seen them. He reached down to the belt at his waist and threw his knife down on the table. It glinted just an arm's reach away from Olivia. If she reached for it, she knew she would be dead but it was a tempting thought.

"Do you know the power you get from having control over someone?" He said softly. He stood and came around to where she was sitting. She stayed still as stone as he took the knife from the table and scraped along the often scratched path of her throat.

"I could make you do anything right now." He said into her ear. "I could bring another POW in and you could take this knife and make him do anything you wanted. You'd see what it was like to have control over another person."

"I don't want that." Olivia said her voice trembling a little. His breath was on the back of her neck and it made her want to move away, but his strong brown hand had settled on her shoulder and held her there.

"I bet if I gave you that power you'd love it."

"Power can corrupt." Olivia said. Sam laughed in her ear.

"I'm already corrupted." He moved around to her front and knelt so he was at eye level with her.

"I'm broken, I'm twisted and there is no hope for me. Power can change you, but you can't change back." He said it all wryly but looking into his eyes, Olivia felt like she could see how much the truth hurt him. Maybe she was imagining it, but she saw it. Maybe that's why she said what she did.

"You're wrong," She said quietly. "People can change, and there is reason for hope. There is evil in the world but you still have your soul. It might be broken but it's still there."

Their faces were inches away from each other and Olivia felt like crying. For a brief moment Sam looked younger. Olivia reached past his shoulder and moved her knight. She plucked his king from the board.

"Check mate." She said quietly, holding the little black figure up between them. Sam looked at it like he had completely forgotten it was there. He took it from her and stood. Olivia wondered if he was going to say something. The jacket across his back stretched as his shoulders were hunched forward but he straightened up and moved to the door. He knocked and brought the guards in.

"Take her back." He said and Olivia stood, he wasn't looking at her and Olivia didn't see him slip the black king into his pocket.

For the next few days she wasn't taken from her cell. It was boring, and she had begun to try and doodle on the walls with a piece of broken rock. No one would talk to her, and the looks of that they gave were beginning to be boring.

On the third say Sam came. Olivia sat up in her bed and looked at him. She could see the wall he had let drop for her was back and she dreaded the consequences for what she said. They had to be bad if he was coming to her cell.

"Crowley gave me permission to give you this." He said and he pulled out a small booklet and some felt tip markers. "I thought you might want to draw." He said quietly, "I've been away." He said. Olivia took the papers and markers from his hands.

"Thank you." She said not a little warily. Sam nodded, his eyes shooting to the floor, then the walls where she had been scratching and then back to her.

"You're welcome." He said and he reached forward. Olivia flinched but Sam only pushed an unruly curl out of the way of her forehead.

"Goodbye." He said and he turned, Olivia saw his hand brush her pillow and the door closed behind him. She saw something small and grey on the side of where his hand had brushed it. Picking it up, she saw it was small whelk shell. Pearly grey and beautifully formed. She held it to her nose and she imagined she could smell the faintest trace of salt.

What did it mean? Was it some sort of thank you? A trick, some way to lull her into a false sense of security in believing she had a friend? Whatever it was, Olivia knew she didn't trust it.